Chapter 185: The Great Audit of the Spire
While Kian Voss and his men were confined within the "Gilded Dungeon" of the Cathedral-Tip, a tragedy of galactic proportions was unfolding across the boulevards of the Spire.
Ten full PDF regiments had spent five cycles in non-stop urban combat. Through blood and fire, they had successfully liquidated the Pox-horde. The Spire was officially "Reclaimed."
But in the 41st Millennium, the Imperium does not reward victory with peace; it rewards it with logic.
The thirty-five thousand soldiers who had survived the purge were ordered to assemble at the Central Sovereign Plaza. They stood in dense, rhythmic blocks beneath the shadow of the gargantuan Emperor's statue. A Lord General stood upon a high, brass-plated balcony, overlooking the sea of weary men.
"Brave sons of Tenebris!" the General's voice boomed through the vox-array. "I look upon you with pride. Through your steel, the Spire has been liberated from the Great Abomination!"
In the plaza, the soldiers smiled. They gripped their rifles, expecting medals, scrip-bonuses, and leave-rotations.
But the battalion commanders within the ranks began to notice a discrepancy. Positioned on the high ridges of the surrounding hab-blocks were hundreds of Heavy Las-cannons and 20mm Lumberers, their muzzles cold and focused directly on the assembly.
The smarter officers turned pale. Some sat down in the dirt, their spirits broken before the first shot was fired. One veteran Colonel tore off his peaked cap, crumpled it into a ball, and hurled it at the golden statue of the Emperor.
"THRONE ROT YOU! ROT THE IMPERIUM! YOU'RE ALL DAEMON-SPAWNED LIARS! DIE! WE ALL DIE!!"
The Colonel's scream triggered a ripple of panic. The soldiers began to murmur, the formation breaking. On the balcony, the Lord General ignored the dissent.
"The Throne thanks you for your service," the General continued tonelessly. "But you have walked through the garden of the Unclean. You carry the viral signature of the Warp in your lungs. To ensure the Hive remains pure, we must initiate a System-Wide Quarantine Closure."
The General raised his hand.
"Fear not, warriors. Your families shall receive a commemorative scroll. Go now to the Master of Mankind. PURGE THE CARRIERS!!"
His hand fell.
The hundreds of heavy weapons on the rooftops erupted in a coordinated storm of fire. High-velocity 20mm slugs tore through rows of men like they were wheat. High-energy Las-beams turned the dense squares of infantry into fountains of scorched ash.
It wasn't a battle. It was a factory-scale execution. For several minutes, the plaza echoed with the screams of thirty-five thousand men being "Sanitized."
When the silence returned, the Sovereign Plaza was a lake of blood. Heavy industrial loaders entered the area, using massive plows to push the bodies into piles. Excavators then dumped the remains into a fleet of heavy trucks.
The convoy of a hundred trucks drove straight to the Castellum Mechanicus. Under the clinical supervision of the Tech-Priests, the "Biological Waste" was shoveled into the primary furnaces. They were burned so thoroughly that not even a tooth remained.
By the next cycle, water-crawlers were raking the plaza with chemical disinfectants. Marble-smiths were already patching the bullet holes. A lone worker used a damp rag to wipe a spot of blood from the Emperor's golden boot.
The Spire was clean. The plague would be forgotten. The census would simply be updated with "Combat Attrition."
Deep within the high-security wing of the Grand Cathedral, the Canon-Preceptor sat across from a man in the elaborate crimson robes of a Cardinal-Hierarch.
The man was the High Bishop of Secundus-496b. Despite his superior rank, he sat before the "Pious One" with the posture of a shamed student before a legendary master.
The Canon-Preceptor's breathing was heavy, his eyes burning with a cold, terrifying fury.
"The Audit at the Plaza... you knew of it? Thirty-five thousand warriors of the Throne, murdered not by the heretic, but by the pens of the High Command?"
The Canon slammed his fist into the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot. The Cardinal flinched.
"Teacher, please... I tried to intervene," the Cardinal stammered. "I suggested a tiered quarantine. I offered the Church's labs to monitor for Warp-residue. But the Lord General... he deemed it 'Logistically Sub-optimal.' He said the risk of a latent bloom outweighed the cost of the meat. He said it was... 'Easier' to start fresh."
"Easier?" the Canon whispered, his voice trembling with an explosive pressure. "To murder thirty-five thousand souls because it was convenient?"
"Necessary Evil is the baseline of the Age, Teacher!" the Cardinal argued, his voice rising in desperation.
The Canon-Preceptor stood up and walked to the room's private altar, falling to his knees before the golden skull of a martyr.
"In this dark universe, we accept the 'Necessary Evil' to preserve the race. But we have grown addicted to it! We use it as a shortcut for our own incompetence! God-Emperor... how much of our suffering is a self-inflicted wound?"
The Cardinal knelt beside him. "I am no Saint, Teacher. I cannot save everyone. The PDF is a separate jurisdiction; I cannot countermand a General's 'Sanitization' order."
The Canon remained silent for a long time. Finally, he looked at the Cardinal. "The warriors who walked the Hub with me. The ones in the villa-dungeon. I am told the 'Audit' is moving toward them next?"
The Cardinal nodded slowly. "The High Command believes they were at the 'Epicenter' of the Sorcery. They are marked for the pyre."
The Canon-Preceptor's eyes turned to cold iron. "They are Heroes. And a hero should be treated as such. I fought beside them. I felt their conviction. I know their spirits are clean.
"You will use your authority as the High Bishop. You will issue an Edict of Sanctity. You will name Kian Voss and his men as Sanctified Crusaders of the Creed. If the PDF wants to burn them, they'll have to declare war on the Church first."
The Cardinal hesitated, then nodded. "I will sign the scrolls. I will have them released immediately."
As the Cardinal stood to summon his scribes, the door burst open. A young Cenobite ran in, his face pale.
"Eminence! Disaster! Arch-Confessor Renato has breached the villa-dungeon with a squad of Purgators! He claims the 'Traitors' must be silenced before the Bishop can interfere! He's going to execute the Sergeant and his men right now!!"
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