Aboard the Conqueror, Angron was in a towering rage. He had personally executed a batch of disobedient astropaths, and now fury burned through him like fire.
There were actually people on his ship who dared defy his orders.
If you court death, don't blame anyone else for the result. Why was that so hard to understand?!
Yet Angron had still underestimated the astropaths' loyalty. Or perhaps, more accurately, they had never truly respected this Primarch in the first place.
After realizing that Angron had repeatedly refused to answer the Warmaster's summons, the astropaths had decided to get the message out. At the very least, the outside world needed to know that this Primarch was already showing signs of treachery.
Angron's response had been simple enough.
Kill.
But when he had slaughtered all the way down to the last one, he found himself staring at a young astropath girl. She was trembling in terror, yet forcing a brave look onto her face.
And for the briefest moment, Angron hesitated.
He could not understand why someone who was so obviously afraid of dying would still risk everything to send the message out.
What exactly are you trying to do?!
"Answer me," Angron growled, raising his blood-soaked axe as he looked down at the shivering girl. "Why did you disobey my will?"
"I made it clear. Without orders, no one is to initiate any communications."
"I… I don't know…" the girl stammered.
Angron's frown deepened.
"Is the Warmaster really worth that much to your loyalty?"
Though Angron obeyed Horus and even believed Horus was better suited to rule mankind than the Emperor, every man in his Legion was supposed to belong to him.
Why would this wretch throw away her life for something so pointless?
Did she see Horus as more her master than him?
"N-No… my lord…"
The girl shook her head, voice trembling. "They told me… what you intend to do is wrong. That we have to stop you before you fall into the abyss."
Angron let out a low, ugly laugh.
Then he lowered his axe and signaled for the area to be cleared. The nearby World Eaters immediately began hauling away the mangled bodies, while the Word Bearers were shoved out of the chamber as well.
"The Warmaster," Angron said, glaring at her, "what did he tell you?"
"The Warmaster said… this is your last chance. If you continue on to Nuceria, he will treat your actions as betrayal."
"And then?"
"He said… you were to halt immediately and wait for his next command. That the Word Bearers cannot be trusted. That Lorgar Aurelian is a liar, and that he has deceived you."
"And then?" Angron pressed.
"The Warmaster has sent an envoy. If you meet with him, and if you do not enter Nuceria, then… there may still be a chance to turn back."
"An envoy?" Angron's eyes narrowed. "Who? Abaddon? Torgaddon? Little Horus?"
The moment he heard that Horus had been willing to dispatch an envoy just to stop him, confusion stirred in him.
Had Lorgar not said the Warmaster was wounded? Then how could he be giving such precise orders?
Which of you is lying to me?
Tch.
Every time he was forced to think, the Nails in his skull screamed louder. For one savage instant, Angron wanted nothing more than to turn the ship around, find Lorgar, and beat the truth out of him. Fight first. Feel good first. Everything else could come later.
"It is Bruce Wayne," the girl whispered. "Lord Bruce Wayne of the Night Lords."
"Bruce Wayne?" Angron barked. "What mutt is that? I've never even heard of him. By what right is he the Warmaster's envoy?"
If it had been Abaddon, Angron could at least have ground his teeth and accepted it. He didn't much like the man, but Abaddon had the capability for the role.
But some no-name Bruce Wayne, and from the Eighth Legion no less, being sent as Horus's representative? The very idea was laughable.
"I… I don't know, my lord…"
The astropath girl swallowed hard. "I only repeated the astropathic message we received. And just now, it seems the astropath attached to that envoy's fleet picked up the signal we sent."
Angron's fury flared at once.
"So he's already in this sector? And how did he know I was going to Nuceria?"
At once, a possibility surfaced in his mind.
There are traitors in the Legion. There must be. Otherwise, how could a fleet moving under total silence be intercepted so precisely?
It was time for a purge.
Cull the weak. Exterminate the infiltrators. He would never allow the regrets of the past to repeat themselves.
"You can speak with him now, yes?" Angron asked, forcing himself to keep his temper in check.
Though he desperately wanted to crush the last surviving astropath into paste, the tiny shred of reason he had left kept him from doing it.
If every astropath aboard died, then the fleet would lose all contact with the outside world. No mustering the Legion. No communication. Even he understood what that would mean.
"Yes… yes, my lord. I caught their astropathic signal. If I initiate contact now, it should reach them."
"But… not here."
She meant the current chamber. As the territory of the astropathic choir, it had been thoroughly wrecked by Angron's rampage.
There were probably still shreds of lingering souls clinging to the place. If she tried to perform astropathic communion in an environment like this, failure was almost guaranteed.
"Come with me."
Understanding her meaning, Angron turned and strode out.
Under the absolute force of a Primarch's command, the girl staggered after him. Her legs were trembling so badly she could barely stay upright, but her instinct to survive drove her on.
As she walked, a reeking trail of urine stained the deck behind her, but she no longer had room in herself for shame. Survival was all that mattered now.
Because if she failed, she would truly die.
And she was the last astropath left aboard the Conqueror. If she died too, then the flagship would lose its last avenue of communication. For someone who had undergone the full training, that was unacceptable.
Even if I've only just graduated… for the Emperor, I have to live.
Fortunately, that suffocating ordeal did not last long. When Angron led her into the command center, the murderous pressure around him eased at once. Even his voice softened by a fraction.
"Begin the transmission," he said, pointing toward a half-enclosed chamber nearby, its walls engraved with sigils. "Do it properly, and I'll spare your life."
A tech-priest and several recorders were already standing by. Once the psychic link was established, they would immediately transcribe the message into spoken and written language for Angron.
"Yes…"
The girl stepped into the chamber under the gaze of all present.
"I need to align with the Astronomican first…"
Not long after, she found the beacon, steadied herself, and began to answer the signal she had caught earlier.
"Lord Angron! Contact established! The other side is very far away, but… they are also moving along the Nuceria route."
"That's enough. Now relay my words." Angron tossed his blood axe to one of his Astartes, then glared at the hololithic display and roared, "Who the hell is Bruce Wayne? Drag him out!"
"I've got a few questions for him!"
So Horus had yapped and yapped, making it sound as though he absolutely had to deal with him personally, only to turn around and send some so-called envoy instead. That infuriated Angron all over again.
What qualified that man to stand in for the Warmaster? He truly couldn't understand it.
"The message has been successfully sent. We are now awaiting a reply."
"How long?" Angron demanded.
Astropathic communication was a miserable thing. One exchange could take days, or weeks, or months. Real-time conversation was impossible.
And right now, all he could do was wait.
"In the same sector… if we are very lucky, perhaps a day."
"Too slow. Too slow. Far too slow!"
"L-Lord… please reduce unnecessary speech. It places a burden on the astropath."
Angron exhaled sharply and forced himself to calm down. He stared at the pale-faced girl and then smashed the railing in front of him with a single blow.
"Tell this Bruce Wayne one more thing. I'll be waiting for him on Nuceria. Until then, I won't do anything."
I want to see just why Horus sent you to negotiate with me. I want to see exactly what kind of man you are.
"Yes. Beginning transmission…"
"Lord Angron."
One of the Word Bearers, his face marked with scripture tattoos, stepped forward in warning. "Lord Lorgar's command was—"
Smack.
Angron punched him straight into the wall.
He was all rage, like a beast that had slipped its chains.
"Get out! None of you have the right to command me!"
"Lorgar? Then let him come here and say it to my face!"
If the bastard hadn't promised that the slavers might have a way to cure him, Angron would never have gone back toward that cursed world at all.
Nuceria.
Just the name filled him with fury.
More than Bruce Wayne did.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 155)
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TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
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I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter230)
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Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 45
The Uma Musume Who Became 40
I'm Definitely Not the King of 45
After Maxing Out Every Class 45
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