"You have arrived at the perfect time!"
The exhausted, furious expression on Lion's face softened as the long-accumulated frustration melted away, replaced by the faint trace of a smile.
The Dark Angels had been stationed on Planet VII for over a decade, suffering unimaginable casualties. The pressure of the front lines pressing down on him had made it utterly impossible for him to smile.
The news from Planet V and Planet VIII was undeniably good, signaling that the Imperium of Man was marching toward ultimate victory. Yet for the ground campaign on Planet VII, it offered little immediate relief.
Having lost two vital strongholds back-to-back, the Rangdan had swiftly gathered their shattered remnants to reinforce Planet VII, redoubling the pressure on the Dark Angels. That they had managed to hold out was due entirely to sheer unyielding grit and an uncompromising conviction to cleanse their disgrace.
Now that allied forces had freed themselves from other battlefields to reinforce the Dark Angels, the flames of counteroffensive ignited within the Lion's heart.
Selene's unique gift brought the Lion immense joy, painting a genuine smile across his face. He marveled at his brother's extraordinary talent, thrilled by a force capable of turning the tide of war, while quietly suppressing a trace of envy deep within his eyes.
As the Firstborn, the Lion was immensely proud. He made no effort to hide the sheer power of the First Legion, plunging into the most brutal battlefields to prove both himself and his Legion through the harshest trials.
Once upon a time, he too believed the First Legion was the absolute strongest in overall military power. He was the Firstborn, his Primarch brothers were iterations of himself, and all other Legions were mere imitations of the First. (Excepting, of course, the individual combat prowess of Blazkowicz and his Doom Marines.)
Now, following Sanguinius's flight, yet another brother had revealed a distinct, extraordinary talent. To say he felt no envy would be a lie even to himself, though his pride forbade him from showing it, burying it deep inside his heart.
Furthermore, compared to Sanguinius's flight, Selene's teleportation offered a far greater strategic advantage.
In this moment, any lingering trace of envy or jealousy within the Lion was utterly swept away, completely replaced by a wave of surging euphoria. Almost instantly, countless strategic scenarios flooded his mind to exploit this gift to its fullest.
The ultimate objective of every plan: The death of the Silent Overseer!
Only the dying shrieks of a Rangdan Overlord, offered as a sacrifice to the blood spilled by his Legion's warriors, could allow the Dark Angels to thoroughly cleanse the shame of the First Rangdan War.
"I have a plan," Lion said, draping an arm over Selene's shoulder as they both stepped up to the command table.
He pointed to Landing Zone Two, which the Rangdan had fortified into a massive stronghold. With a flick of his fingers, a detailed, deconstructed layout of the Rangdan fortress materialized before them down to the smallest detail.
"Do not be surprised," Lion said with a trace of disdain, "Landing Zone Two was originally a barren waste. The xenos building a fortress right under my nose could never escape my notice."
"What do you propose?" Selene nodded. Judging by the holographic blueprints, the architecture shared a common lineage with the Rangdan continental fortress on Planet VIII, exhibiting clear structural similarities. Those shared traits confirmed that the schematics were exceptionally reliable.
"I want the Silent Overseer to watch as its army is reduced to ash!"
Lion gritted his teeth, zooming in on several points on the holographic map: "Here lies the plasma engine array."
His emerald eyes churned with a vengeful fire as he looked sternly at Selene: "Brother, I need you to destroy its functional systems and disable the planetary shield network."
"Planet VII has already deployed countless batteries of heavy firepower, merely awaiting the signal to unleash its rage upon the Rangdan."
"If the shields fall—even for a few brief minutes—it will be enough for our heavy ordnance to blanket the Rangdan landing zone."
As Lion spoke, the holographic projection shifted continuously, displaying a sequence of tactical steps ranging from severing the plasma engines to directing heavy artillery bombardments.
Blazkowicz stood with his arms crossed, staring at the display as his mind calculated the precise execution details. The overall plan was sound; though driven by a personal quest for vengeance, the operational structure contained no major flaws.
Otherwise, there was little to critique.
However, amidst the holographic projections, Blazkowicz caught sight of his own heavy siege guns originally placed aboard the Blackstone Fortress. The Dark Angels had concealed them inside industrial plants and deployed them across various key points of the fortress.
"I commandeered them," Lion felt his brother's gaze, his tone righteous and dignified, without a hint of embarrassment on his stern face.
The devastating firepower of those siege guns was something he simply could not ignore. Thus, without seeking his brother's prior consent, he had requisitioned them via headquarters orders for the ground campaign on Planet VII.
"So long as they are put to good use," Blazkowicz waved a hand, his tone devoid of blame or stinginess. "Siege guns are meant to serve the war effort; whether they can fulfill their purpose is all that matters."
"They will be used to devastating effect!" Lion grinned, exposing a cruel smile.
Blazkowicz pointed at the Rangdan base and turned to ask Lion: "In the final phase, do you need me to spearhead the raid into the fortress to slay the Rangdan Overlord?"
"No!"
Lion casually took a Legion command banner and stabbed it directly into the map marker for the Rangdan command post: "I will personally execute that filthy stain of a Silent Overseer!"
His refusal was absolute, his authoritative tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Very well," Blazkowicz nodded softly, agreeing to his brother's tactical arrangement.
The First Legion lusted for vengeance, and Lion lusted for it just as intensely! With the war escalated to such a fever pitch, nothing could halt the enraged Lion; his mind was consumed entirely by the resolve to decapitate the enemy commander.
"I have no objections either," Selene agreed to the tactical setup as well.
He knew full well he was here to assist, holding no decision-making authority, and needed only to follow his brothers' lead. Even having never managed high-level strategic warfare before, Selene understood the hierarchy of priorities. Planet VII was undeniably the First Legion's show; they came here to bring support, not to contest command.
"There remains one more issue."
Having reached an agreement, Lion gestured toward another section of the map, issuing several tactical directives in the process.
"Here."
Zooming in on a real-time feed of the sector, battle cries thundered beneath towering fortress walls as Rangdan elites and Dark Angels engaged in a desperate tug-of-war along the defensive line. They bled and fought savagely for every single brick and stone, contesting every inch of ground.
"Blazkowicz," a bright light glinted in Lion's eyes as he addressed his brother in an earnest, imploring tone: "I need an elite force to throw back the enemy at the Seventh Wall."
"Once the Rangdan shields fall, I will execute a boarding action alongside Selene to slay the Rangdan Overlord."
"Without my direct command and presence, the Seventh Wall will be left in an extremely precarious state."
"We must prevent the Rangdan army from launching a desperate all-out gamble against our lines in a chaotic meatgrinder once they realize their rear has fallen."
His heavy tone carried a rare sincerity, alongside a subtly lowered posture. For a man of Lion's immensely proud and arrogant nature to voice a plea showed that the situation along that line was teetering precariously on the brink of collapse.
"It is my duty!" Blazkowicz reached out, pushing the banner bearing his Legion's crest directly beneath the Seventh Wall.
"I will personally go to intercept the Rangdan elites. Not a single one of them will step past my line of defense."
With that, Blazkowicz immediately translated his promise into action. He tapped the vox-panel on his left arm, instructing his fleet in orbit to deploy Iron Men to the surface.
The battlefield of the Seventh Wall—nestled among barbicans and urban ruins—was the ideal environment for those mechanical warriors to unleash their full lethality.
"Good!" Receiving his brother's guarantee, Lion let out a visible sigh of relief.
"Then let us begin preparations," Selene's clear voice broke through the oppressive atmosphere, adding a light joke with perfect timing: "I can hardly go blow up the energy heart of the Rangdan base empty-handed."
"Of course not!" With his brothers agreeing to the plan, Lion relaxed considerably: "Warriors of the Ironwing will begin preparations immediately. Before long, you will be handed the very gift that will seal the Rangdan's doom."
As operational orders descended from the highest command level, the Dark Angels reassigned personnel to begin preparations centered around the core objective.
"Without delay, I shall head to the Seventh Wall first," Blazkowicz took his leave, turning to stride down the command platform.
Watching his towering back retreat, Lion voiced a word of caution: "Keep vox-comm lines open to prevent any unforeseen variables mid-operation. Arriving via warship means your presence may already be known to the Rangdan high command."
"It matters not," Blazkowicz replied calmly, his departing stride never wavering for a second.
The Doom Marines guard fell into formation behind their Primarch, following their gene-father out of the hall toward their next battlefield.
"Lion El'Jonson," the Shield-Captain of the Custodes spoke up solemnly, addressing the Primarch atop the dais: "We too shall march to the battlefield."
Lion chose not to press the offense of the golden-armored warrior addressing him directly by his full name, nodding to signal that the Custodes were free to depart whenever they pleased. Having fought side-by-side for so long, he had even grown accustomed to the Custodes' haughtiness.
Naturally, the Lion offered no words of thanks either. Had it not been for their formidable combat prowess, he would have preferred not to see their eye-searing golden armor inside his command room in the first place.
Odysseus moved with hurried steps, calling his Custodes guard to move out to the front lines.
The Custodes formed up in neat ranks, and apart from those left behind to guard the stasis sarcophagi, every one of them departed the Dark Angels' command hall. They too had had quite enough of the Primarch's furious roaring; while they understood his anxiety and pressure, they had no desire to endure being collateral damage to his wrath.
The Custodes marched at a brisk pace, quickly catching up with the Doom Marines guard ahead. Compared to the tempestuous Lion, they far preferred the taciturn, quiet Doom Marines—equally formidable and fearless, perfectly aligning with the aesthetic of the Ten Thousand.
Black armor alongside gold, the two columns marched shoulder-to-shoulder as Legion warriors saluted and mortal soldiers knelt along their path.