Under the control tower's direction, the strike barges—emblazoned with the Inquisition's sigil—slid into the Void Harbor. As the ramps dropped, five Astartes clad in ominous black Power Armor, each sporting the silver pauldron of the Inquisition, strode out, followed closely by three fully armed squads of Stormtroopers.
"Stormtrooper squad? Black Power Armor? Inquisition sigil? Wow, this has to be a Deathwatch Kill Team," muttered Yuji, who had just disembarked from the battleship Paragon. He recognized the black-armored unit instantly.
The Deathwatch, he recalled, was an elite force established in the wake of the Beast Wars, serving as the Ordo Xenos' dedicated partner. They were comprised of veterans drawn from various Chapters, specializing in the elimination of alien threats across the galaxy.
As for the Stormtroopers, they were the Imperium's mortal elite, selected from orphans raised in the Schola Progenium—a force specifically created for dangerous, specialized missions.
"Deathwatch? What are they doing here?" Wronghammer looked at the Kill Team with curiosity.
"Maybe they have a fortress in the Calixis Sector," Yuji guessed, stroking his chin.
Wronghammer slapped his forehead in sudden realization. "Could this be another new plot development? It feels like we've been getting new storylines dropping left and right lately!"
Yuji looked thoughtful. "A while back, the Guide talked to the Eldar NPCs and sent players to conquer specific Chaotic areas like the Garden of Beasts and the Soul-Stealing Chamber. Now the Deathwatch, which is tied to Xenos threats, shows up looking for the Guide. It sure smells like the new storyline and gameplay are going to center around the Inquisition."
"Maybe they'll embed us in an Inquisition Kill Team to run missions across the galaxy, wiping out heretics and Xenos," Wronghammer mused.
"That would be much more interesting," Yuji agreed, warming to the idea.
In the Void Harbor meeting room, Daniel and the Tribunal members, including Kaiding, met with the Deathwatch Kill Team.
The lead black-armored warrior entered, removed his helmet to reveal a resolute face, and offered a deep bow to Daniel. "Saint, I am Nurrus, Kill Team Captain. I've come here to seek your wisdom and aid."
"No need for formalities," Daniel said, holding up a hand. He sized up the man who called himself Nurrus. "Let's cut to the chase. Why don't I call you by your real name, Titus?"
Titus's eyes went wide. The name hit him like a physical blow. He thought that name had been lost to time, forgotten by everyone. That the Saint before him saw right through his alias both surprised him and stirred a deep, aching relief.
He was a veteran of the Ultramarines' 2nd Company, falsely accused of heresy and imprisoned for a century before being found by chance.
"Does the Captain have another name?" asked Beren, another member of the Kill Team, sounding surprised.
"Titus. Sounds pretty good. But how does he know it when we don't?" Darius frowned. "It feels like the Captain has been keeping secrets from us."
Titus's face darkened, recalling his time of abandonment. "That was a name of shame. I am Nurrus now."
"It is not a disgrace, Titus. Your name is a symbol of honor. I've seen your statue in the Ultramarines Hall of Fame," Daniel insisted. "Calgar was relentless in his search for you over the last century, but the court stonewalled him, refusing to disclose Inquisitor Serx's location.
Your brothers genuinely believed you were dead. The base of your statue is inscribed: 'A hero who gave his life for the Emperor—Demetrian Titus.'"
Titus stared, utterly incredulous. "Is this really true?"
"It's true, of course. And there's one more thing I need to tell you: your Primarch—Roboute Guilliman—has also been resurrected. When you have the time, you should go back and see him." Daniel placed his hand on Titus's shoulder.
"Everything in the past was just a misunderstanding. Your Chapter didn't abandon you. You should go home to your brothers."
"Thank you for clearing up my doubts. If it weren't for you, I'm afraid I'd still be kept in the dark," Titus replied, genuinely grateful. He had always believed himself a disgraced wanderer, but now he realized he was simply misinformed.
"Alright, now that we've gotten your personal affairs sorted out," Daniel said, "let's get down to brass tacks. Why did the Deathwatch show up here? Your job is to hunt Xenos across the galaxy, not lend a hand in suppressing local rebellions."
"This rebellion is tied directly to the Xenos threat," Titus affirmed. "We're operating under the Ordo Xenos to clean up corruption in the Calixis Sector.
We discovered evidence that the Eternal Consortium—a seemingly loose alliance of trading captains and merchants—was colluding with a new Xenos threat: 'worm-men' from the Colonus Expansion District."
"These aliens use proxies to breed and enslave humans. We were dispatched to the edge-world of Josian and found over 1.5 billion humans were being soul-sucked by these creatures, turning them into puppets.
When we tried to execute an extermination order on that world and target the Eternal Consortium across the galaxy, the Colin family betrayed us. The Consortium was one of their backers."
"They've amassed an unimaginable army on the world of Halsilus, and the Calixis Sector Deathwatch doesn't have the muscle to destroy them. We have no choice but to ask for your help."
Daniel opened the projected star map, locating the worlds of Josian and Halsilus on the very edge of the Calixis Sector. Clearly, this corruption had been brewing for a long time.
"It seems the Colin family didn't just build a network of interests across the entire sector; they also secretly colluded with numerous heretics and Xenos."
"I will lend you my aid, but now is not the time. Moreover, since the Eternal Consortium is colluding with the Colin family, sending troops directly to Halsilus is pointless.
The rebels will surely try to support their alien allies. Why don't we concentrate our forces to strike at the rebels' remaining strength? We're about to hit the Forge World of Ras. You should join us first."
Titus exchanged a few words with his teammates, then finally nodded in agreement.
"Very well. We will fight for you," Titus confirmed.
The fury of the Warp was beyond imagination, yet the Pilgrimage Expedition Fleet forged ahead, overcoming every obstacle.
Whenever the fleet sailed out of the Warp, Guilliman would summon his Astropaths, desperately trying to receive intelligence. These messages painted a grim picture of the galaxy's dire state: daemonic incursions, devastating plagues, and an explosion in the number of mutants and psychics, all accompanied by terrifying, sanity-breaking phenomena.
Loyal servants of the Imperium had been turned into shrieking cultists, and alien armies, emboldened by the raging tides of the Warp, launched massive invasions. The constant deluge of distress calls weighed heavily on everyone's minds.
The perpetual tension took a toll on the fleet's crew, sailors, and Chapter serfs, leading to illness, depression, and widespread disorientation.
When they finally reached the edge of the vortex, an unimaginable Aetheric storm erupted, tearing into the fleet. The Navigators screamed in agony, the Astropaths convulsed from the sheer pressure of the warp energy, and the light of the Astronomican dimmed to barely a flicker. The pilgrimage fleet was violently forced out of the Warp and back into the physical universe.
They immediately stumbled into a calculated ambush. A voice boomed across the pilgrimage fleet's communication channels, chilling Guilliman to the bone:
"Long time no see, my brother."
Guilliman was instantly furious. He knew that voice—it belonged to his traitorous kin, Magnus the Red. He tried his best to rally the fleet and turn the tide, but Magnus had set an elaborate trap, and escape was not going to be easy.
Massive artillery rained down, obliterating warship after warship. Countless rune-etched torpedoes slammed into the loyalist side, and the boiling power of the subspace turned bridges and ammunition depots into a sea of fire.
In that moment of utter despair, the BaldCustodian stepped forward.
"Primarch, we need to go in hard. We request permission to board the Tizka's Vengeance," he said. He laid out the Hail Mary plan: "If we can hit that flagship's core with a few Cyclone torpedo warheads, we can flip the script and buy the fleet a window to escape."
Guilliman sized up the Player-Saint before him. Though often irreverent, they were surprisingly trustworthy when the chips were down.
"Go ahead and do it," Guilliman nodded, giving the green light.
But the BaldCustodian and the other players stared wide-eyed, not moving, instead waiting expectantly. Only then did Guilliman remember Daniel's instructions. He quickly opened the interface and began editing the task: