Aiden's eyes widened in shock. Before initiating the mutiny, he had tried to contact Quinn but couldn't reach him. He had assumed Quinn was on another mission; he never imagined his comrade would appear here—and on the opposite side.
"Quinn! What the hell are you doing?!"
Quinn didn't answer. Instead, his Thunder-Power Fist arrived with a howling gale.
BOOM!!!
The grey Knight's ion shield flickered violently. The two war machines began a world-shaking duel within the valley. Silver-grey and silver-blue silhouettes intertwined as the roar of Gatling cannons and the howl of melta guns merged into a chaotic symphony. The light of their ion shields pulsed, every impact making the ground tremble and sending spider-web cracks spreading across the ice walls.
Leo was knocked back by the shockwave, rolling over a dozen meters. He scrambled up, watching the two titanic figures with a confused mind. Quinn is actually saving me? Isn't he one of them?
But Leo quickly noticed something was wrong with Quinn. His movements were becoming slower and more rigid. Several times, he had a clear chance to deal a heavy blow to Aiden, but he was half a beat too slow, allowing Aiden to dodge. It was the rejection of the Machine Spirit. After being infected by Sarah, Quinn's soul was no longer "pure" enough to maintain full synchronization with the Machine Spirit. In low-intensity skirmishes, it was manageable, but in high-intensity combat, the rejection worsened as time passed.
Quinn's consciousness began to blur. The world before him swayed, and strange whispers echoed in his ears—like something was screaming inside his brain. He knew he couldn't hold on much longer.
At that moment, a cool female voice rang out in his mind: "For the Ice-Lord!"
Quinn's eyes suddenly cleared. He cast one final look toward the direction of the Brevis Hive Spire and made his decision. His Knight lunged forward, recklessly wrapping its arms around the silver-grey machine.
Aiden realized with horror that Quinn's reactor was red-lining into an intentional overload. "You're fucking insane!!!"
Aiden's Reaper Chainsword impaled Quinn's cockpit, dealing a mortal blow. He struggled frantically, trying to shake off the lunatic. But the blue Knight clung to him like a barnacle. The energy readings of the reactor skyrocketed, and alarms shrieked in a deafening frenzy.
"Aminos!" Aiden let out a final, unwilling roar.
BOOM~!!!
The explosion swallowed everything. Golden flames and blue energy intertwined, consuming the two Knights and everything within hundreds of meters. The shockwave sent a tidal wave of snow dozens of meters high, collapsing ice walls and sending stone debris flying.
After an unknown amount of time, Leo slowly emerged from a large Ice-Lotus that had shielded him. His ears were ringing, and his vision swam. Leaning against an ice wall to steady himself, he looked toward the center of the valley.
The Knights were gone. In their place was a massive crater over fifty meters in diameter and ten meters deep. At the bottom lay the wreckage of two Knights—twisted, melted, and fused together. Scorched metal emitted wisps of grey smoke, and broken components were scattered everywhere. Quinn and Aiden were gone; only the pile of scrapped metal proved they had ever existed.
Leo stood there, covered in blood and gasping for air. He didn't understand. Why would Quinn save him? Why sacrifice his life? The man who had looked down on them at the banquet had, in the end, traded his life for Leo's.
In the distance, the Frost-Warriors were slaughtering the last of the rebels. Wildman riders were clearing the battlefield, and the survivors of the Vanguard gathered together, watching from a distance without intruding.
Leo walked slowly toward the crater. He stopped at the edge, looking down at the remains. "Knight Aiden..." He opened his mouth but could only whisper those two words. He didn't know what else to say. He looked up at the sky. From the direction of the Forbidden Wall, light began to pierce through the dark clouds.
Callum was depressed—deeply, incredibly depressed. He'd had a perfect plan: lure the Governor in, sacrifice him to the Prince of Pleasure, extract the Governor's secrets, and win even greater favor from Slaanesh. But now, it was all ruined. That madwoman with the Tzeentchian monsters had burst in and trashed the dining hall. Then there was that bastard Loya, lurking on the sidelines like a vulture waiting for scraps.
And then the Ecclesiarchy's army appeared out of nowhere—fanatics, priests, Battle Sisters, and those terrifying Penitent Engines. They were ruthlessly slaughtering his men. The Slaaneshi cultists he had cultivated for years, the souls he had spent decades seducing, his proud "artworks"—all were being mowed down like wheat. Fanatics charged into crowds with explosives, and the Sisters' holy bolter rounds took a life with every shot.
Callum's expression was as foul as if he'd swallowed filth. The Helbrute brought by the Tzeentchian sorcerers, which was supposed to draw the fire, was thick-skinned but couldn't withstand the fanatics. Dozens of them would pile onto its legs and detonate their suicide vests. The continuous explosions eventually crippled its movements. Once it lost balance, a volley of holy bolter fire from the Sisters charred its daemonic essence. It let out a shriek like metal scraping glass before crashing down, shaking the entire hall.
With the Helbrute down, Callum became the Ecclesiarchy's primary target. He glanced around and realized Loya and the sorcerer had already vanished. Those slippery bastards had run the moment the tide turned.
"Fuck!" Callum hissed through his teeth.
Now he bore the brunt of the Ecclesiarchy's fire alone. Fanatics rushed him like madmen, completely unafraid of death, their eyes burning with a twisted fervor. Callum shattered a dozen with his whip, but more surged forward instantly. The Sisters suppressed his movements with bolter fire; every round that hit felt like it was searing his soul. His skin smoked, and his power drained. The Priests' chanting felt like invisible shackles, slowing his every move.
Callum began to regret. He regretted facing this alone, regretted being so greedy and arrogant. In his distraction, a relic grenade exploded beside him. Made from the ashes of a martyred saint, the blast erupted in blinding gold light accompanied by a soaring hymn.
"Ha~lle~lu~jah~!"
The singing pierced Callum's ears like a thousand needles stabbing his brain. He stumbled back, his aura flickering like a candle in the wind. Before he could steady himself, a dozen Battle Sisters lunged. Power halberds impaled him from all sides, pinning him to the spot like a hedgehog. The enchanted blades scorched his internal organs; he felt his body disintegrating from the inside. The Sisters formed a circle, waiting for Canoness Valenia to arrive and banish him permanently with a more powerful relic.
Callum looked up and saw Valenia approaching, holding a cross wrapped in white cloth that glowed more fiercely than anything else in the room. It was the light of death.
He knew he had to act. When Valenia reached him, all she saw was a rapidly shriveling husk. Like a snake shedding its skin, the body impaled by the halberds withered into an empty human shell. The real Callum was gone.
"Damn it!" Valenia roared. "He escaped!"
Callum's true form reappeared beside Raynor. The Governor, still pinned to his seat, showed a flash of panic in his eyes, though he quickly suppressed it. Callum grabbed Raynor by the collar, dragging him from the seat. His distorted face broke into a manic grin: "You're mine in the end!"
He moved with incredible speed, dragging Raynor like a ragdoll toward a secret door in the corner of the hall. It was an escape route he had prepared long ago, leading to a hidden vault deep beneath the fortress. Behind him, the Sisters discovered the empty husk and realized they'd been tricked, letting out roars of fury as they gave chase.
But Callum was too fast. He was drawing closer to the door. One hundred meters, fifty, twenty! Just as he was about to touch the door, he felt his feet snagged.
It was spider silk. Transparent psychic silk had wound around his legs from all directions. It was incredibly tough; he struggled but couldn't break free. Callum looked down and sneered, "Such petty tricks..."
He flexed his muscles, and his daemonic power surged, snapping the silk. But in that exact moment, a dark shadow descended. A purple daemon claw pierced through his back, erupting out of his chest. Purple blood dripped from the claws, corroding small, smoking pits into the floor.
Callum stared at the claw in his chest and slowly turned his head. Loya stood behind him, wearing that signature lazy smile.
"You really thought you could leave?" Loya said, his voice dripping with mockery. "He was my prey from the very beginning."
Callum's eyes turned from shock to despair, and then from despair to pure madness. He knew he couldn't escape. Loya's claw had shattered his heart, and the sensation of his soul breaking was consuming his consciousness. The Battle Sisters were only dozens of meters away. Raynor was right there, but he could no longer hold him.
Since I can't live... then everyone is coming with me!