[Historical Possibility Slice loading...]
[Target Locked: Siege within the Iron Cage]
[Anchoring temporal coordinates...]
When Leticia opened her eyes again, the tranquil garden filled with the breath of life and the fragrance of flowers had vanished.
In its place was an oppressive, suffocating, metallic gray sky.
The air was thick with the smell of engine oil, gunpowder, and the pungent scorched scent of over-burned metal.
Beneath her feet was no longer the glowing moonlight crystal.
Instead, it was a cold, lifeless, iron-gray earth riddled with massive craters and twisted rebar.
In the distance, hideous iron fortresses, like the skeletal remains of giant beasts, stood silently on the horizon.
Atop each fortress flew a tattered Iron Skull war banner, representing the Iron Warriors Legion.
This was Medrengard.
The Daemon World of the Iron Warriors.
An eternal iron hell personally forged by their suspicious, paranoid, yet brilliant Primarch.
"Ugh..."
A suppressed sound of retching came from nearby.
Leticia turned her head.
Fogremia was pressing a handkerchief tightly over her nose and mouth, her perfectly beautiful face slightly contorted by the sight before her.
Her eyes were filled with the undisguised, ultimate disgust of an artist.
"Ugly."
"Crude."
"Completely devoid of aesthetic!"
She commented with a trembling voice, as if she were looking at something unspeakable.
"These buildings are just cold piles of iron trash, stacked purely for defense!"
"This place is simply the grave of 'beauty'!"
Angronia, on the other hand, presented a completely different picture.
She took a deep breath of the air filled with gunpowder and the scent of death, and a flame of excitement ignited in her amber eyes.
Carrying her massive Chainaxe, she felt the omnipresent oppression and violence of war on this land, her lips curling into a wild smile.
"I like it here."
"A good place for smashing things."
Magna pushed up her non-existent glasses, her gaze sweeping over the distant iron fortresses like a precision scanner.
"The layout of the defensive matrix is exemplary."
"The overlapping fields of fire leave no blind spots."
"From a purely 'efficiency' standpoint, the design of these fortresses approaches the limits of the conventional physical universe."
She paused, then added another comment.
"Though, this 'turtle shell' tactic that sacrifices all mobility for defense is itself an outdated philosophy."
Three Primarch Sisters, three completely different evaluations.
Leticia listened with a smile, not interrupting.
She knew this was exactly why she had chosen to bring them along.
She wanted Perturabo—no, the future Pertura—to see with her own eyes exactly what she was missing.
Just then.
Heavy footsteps, filled with the sound of metal grinding, came from all directions.
Squads of towering Iron Warriors in iron-gray Terminator armor emerged from the ruins and cover.
In their hands, they carried massive, buzzing Power Fists and Storm Bolters.
Cold, emotionless red light flickered within their helmet visors.
Further away, hideous Daemon Engines with a destructive aesthetic slowly rose from the ground, aiming their black muzzles at the uninvited guests.
In an instant.
Leticia and her Sisters were completely surrounded by an airtight web of death constructed of iron and firepower.
A cold, electronically synthesized voice with no emotional fluctuation rang out from the loudspeakers around the perimeter.
"Unauthorized target has entered the range of 'Final Defense Protocol'."
"Immediately drop weapons and state your identity."
"Otherwise, the protocol will initiate... elimination."
The voice carried an absolute, programmed ruthlessness.
However, Leticia simply looked up, her calm gaze passing over these cold war machines to look toward the top of the tallest, grandest, and loneliest iron fortress in the distance.
She knew he was there.
Watching from that place he had built for himself, called 'home' but in reality a 'cage'.
Leticia ignored the gun muzzles.
She simply took a gentle step forward.
"We are here to see your master."
Her voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly pierced through all the noise and reached the ears of every Iron Warrior.
"Tell Perturabo to come out and see me."
At the mention of that name.
Every Iron Warrior experienced a momentary, imperceptible pause.
Immediately after, the cold electronic voice rang out again.
Only this time, a hint of offended, mechanical anger was present in the voice.
"Blasphemy against the name of our Lord."
"Final Protocol... initiated."
BOOM!!!
In the next second.
Ten thousand cannons roared at once!
Countless energy beams capable of instantly vaporizing iron and countless bolter shells that could tear through alloy armor poured in from all directions like a violent storm toward the small figure at the center of the encirclement!
It was an absolute, devastating firestorm intended to completely erase everything from the physical plane!
However, just a second before that light was about to consume everything.
A pinkish-purple, perfect sword light.
A crimson, violent Battle Intent.
A pure white, holy wing.
A scarlet, profound rune.
All bloomed simultaneously in front of Leticia!
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