"It seems that for a traitor like you, blinded by hatred..."
The pristine white wings on the Great Angel's back fully unfurled, and pale golden psychic energy flowed around him like something tangible.
"...only overwhelming power can make you clearly understand..."
The Blade Encarmine was slowly raised.
"...the disparity between you and the Imperium."
Sanguinius's voice suddenly grew a fraction deeper.
"This is also why I find absolutely no fault in the decision made by my brother, Ferrus Manus, to initiate an orbital bombardment. He gave the Blaec House of that time a chance. Just as I have now. I gave you a chance as well."
Sanguinius's voice turned abruptly cold.
"But you people are simply that obstinate!"
Pale golden psychic energy violently erupted, and the air surrounding Sanguinius began to warp.
"And for obstinate people like you..."
The Great Angel's figure vanished from his spot.
The next second, he appeared ten meters directly in front of Sacken.
"...there is no choice but to utilize greater measures, and greater power."
The Blade Encarmine flared with a pale golden light that illuminated the entire upper hive, a light that struck terror into the heart.
"To judge and purify you!"
Sanguinius swung his sword. Along the trajectory carved by the blade, the very fabric of space exhibited microscopic flaking.
Sacken didn't even see how the sword came at him.
He could only feel his own insignificance.
Even though he had forcibly pushed his psychic level to Alpha-plus by sacrificing over five hundred fallen psykers, reaching a realm theoretically unattainable for mortals...
Even though his body had been augmented by the grace of the Changer of Ways, with the authority of trickery flowing through his flesh...
Even though the Warp energy conduit extending from the Tzeentch rift behind him was still continuously pumping power into him...
Before this strike...
"Urrgghh!!!"
Sacken let out a beastly roar, slamming his hands together as blue-purple psychic energy spewed from his body like a tsunami.
A dense blue-purple psychic shield materialized before him, millions of ever-changing runes flowing across its surface.
But all these actions seemed futile. As the blade of the Blade Encarmine descended...
CRACK!!
The instant the blade touched the blue-purple shield, spiderweb-like cracks surfaced across it.
Those frantic runes extinguished one by one, like snuffed-out candles.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
BOOM!!!
The shield shattered completely, exploding into a sky full of blue-purple psychic fragments.
The Blade Encarmine's momentum remained undiminished, continuing its downward cleave.
Sacken only had enough time to hastily twist his body, taking the strike with his left shoulder.
He was cleaved backward, tracing a parabola through the air before violently smashing into a pile of ruins a hundred meters away.
"Cough... cough-cough..."
Pale blue blood welled up from his mouth, mixed with fine psychic crystals and... fragments of some sort of writhing, dark-purple tentacles.
Sacken's gaze began to drift out of focus.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.
Am I going to die...
His vision began to blur, and memories flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.
He remembered those few days. Those few days when he allowed himself to drop his disguise and briefly return to being Sacken Alar.
He remembered the warmth of her palm, he remembered the undisguised adoration in her eyes.
He also remembered the tearing agony in his heart when he left without a word.
But he had to leave. His plan had reached a critical stage; he couldn't let her get involved, couldn't let her face danger because of him.
"If... if back then..." Sacken muttered to himself, a pale blue tear slipping from the corner of his eye. "If back then I could have stayed... if I could have been by her side... if I could have been with her when our child was born..."
His voice grew softer and softer. "Our child... is it a boy or a girl... do they look more like her... or more like me..."
"How... are you doing now... my child..."
Footsteps slowly approached.
Sanguinius walked to the edge of the crater, the pale golden light of the Blade Encarmine illuminating Sacken's dying face.
"Do you understand now?" Sanguinius's voice was very calm. "Your so-called revenge, your so-called revival. From the very beginning, it was a dead-end path leading to destruction. I have heard your repentance."
The Great Angel's voice remained icy. "But your crimes will not be lessened because of it. In the name of the Emperor and the Imperium of Man..."
Sanguinius raised the Blade Encarmine high, the light of judgment flaring once more on the blade. "...I execute you, traitor who has betrayed humanity."
Sacken lay in the ruins, pale blue blood pooling beneath him.
I'm going to die... that's fine too.
At least he wouldn't have to carry the burden of all that hatred, those plans, the whispers of the Changer of Ways anymore.
A single pale blue tear slipped from the corner of Sacken's eye.
That tear traced an arc through the air, landing on the charred concrete with a soft sizzle.
And right at that moment.
"Lord Sanguinius."
A cold voice, carrying the unique cadence of the Custodes, rang out.
"Please, hold your blade."
The Blade Encarmine, which Sanguinius was just about to swing down, stopped mid-air.
The Great Angel slowly turned his head.
Fifty meters away, the golden Custodes Praetor, Demetrian Titus, stood there, having arrived at some unknown point in time.
And standing beside him was a little girl.
Paul was feeling rather exasperated at the moment. He had been perfectly content standing off to the side, enjoying the show...
But then the five-pointed star in his pupils began to spin frantically for no apparent reason.
And then, the game System popped up a mission notification:
[Purification Mission: Purification of the Alar Bloodline]
[Mission Description: Helovia Elnor (Daughter of Sacken Alar) must personally end her father's sins to complete the final purification of the Alar bloodline.]
[Mission Requirement: Helovia's damage contribution against Sacken must be no less than 50%.]
[Mission Reward: 10,000,000,000 Imperial Coins]
[Note: This mission cannot be refused. Failure Penalty: Helovia will be targeted by a mysterious daemon of the Mecha universe, and risks falling!]
Paul was immediately dumbfounded.
Ten billion Imperial Coins?
But it required Helovia's damage contribution to be no less than 50%?
And she had to land the killing blow personally?
Paul hastily convened a short meeting in the regional channel with Blood Angels' Second Emperor, Cogboy, and the others.
[Regional Channel]
Paul: "You all see it? How do we handle this mission?"
[Have you been loyal today]: "Paul, this mission reward is too sweet! Ten billion! We raided thirteen hives and only scraped together twenty-seven billion. This one job is ten billion!"
[I am not the Regent, I'm Just Passing By Guilliman ]: "But the hard part is how to get Helovia's damage contribution over half. Even though Sacken is heavily injured now, he's still an Alpha-class psyker, and Helovia just awakened..."
Tax Bro: "The main point isn't the ten billion, it's that goddamn 'mysterious daemon of the Mecha universe'. Getting possessed by a Greater Daemon is one thing, but this is something else."
Blood Angels' Second Emperor: "I have an idea. We could do this."
Three minutes later, a barely viable plan was drafted.
And thus, the current scene came to be.
Sanguinius's amber-gold slit pupils contracted slightly.
The little girl looked to be about eleven or twelve years old, her height only reaching the Custodes Praetor's knee.
She was wearing... peculiar attire.
It was a design style Sanguinius had never seen before.
And her eyes...
Sanguinius saw some kind of... energy flow in those eyes that did not belong to the psychic system.
It wasn't the power of the Warp, nor was it the purity of the Emperor's psychic energy.
It was a lighter... fairy-tale-esque power.
But the energy intensity was nothing to scoff at.
"Praetor Titus." Sanguinius slowly lowered the Blade Encarmine, his brow furrowing slightly. "Who is she?"
His gaze shifted between the little girl and the Custodes Praetor.
An Imperial Custodes Praetor, walking around with a little girl in strange clothes holding a magic wand?
No matter how you looked at it, this combination was bizarre.
Paul answered without changing his expression. "By order of the Emperor."
He paused, enunciating every word clearly and heavily. "To bring the final bloodline of House Alar to Aurelian IV."
The golden faceplate turned toward Sacken, who lay dying in the ruins. "To end the source of this planet's sins."
Hearing this, Sanguinius's pupils abruptly contracted.
"You mean—"
The Great Angel's mind raced.
The final bloodline of House Alar? This little girl? Brought to Aurelian IV? To end the source of its sins?
Countless questions exploded in Sanguinius's mind.
But a second later, Paul interrupted his thoughts.
"This matter is an Imperial secret." The Custodes Praetor's voice was icy and devoid of emotion. "Lord Sanguinius, please do not pry."
Sanguinius fell silent. He truly had no way to question this statement.
For it was common knowledge that within the genes of the Imperial Custodes, there existed only absolute loyalty.
No lies, no selfishness, no personal will.
Every Custodian was a perfect creation shaped by the Emperor's own hands. Their loyalty was etched into the deepest depths of their genetic sequence, more unbreakable than any oath or covenant.
If this Custodes Praetor said it was the Emperor's order... then it was the Emperor's order.
As for why the Emperor would issue such an order? Why have a little girl put an end to the source of sin? What was that peculiar power residing within her?
Sanguinius didn't know, nor did he need to know.
Because that was the Emperor's grand design, and the Emperor's designs never needed to be explained to anyone.
At least, at this point in the 30K timeline, the Primarchs still maintained a near-blind trust in the Emperor.
Fragmented images flashed through Sanguinius's mind.
He recalled a private conversation from long ago, right after the Emperor had brought him from Baal to Terra. He was still young then, and he had asked the Emperor, "Father, why is it that among us brothers, the version of You that we see... is different for everyone?"
Sanguinius remembered that Fulgrim had seen the Emperor as the embodiment of perfect art. Ferrus saw Him as the perfect fusion of energy and metal. Lorgar saw Him as a radiant holy icon, wreathed in a sun-like halo, akin to a god... Others saw Him in yet other ways...
And Sanguinius himself saw an aggregate of energy akin to a golden sun.
The Emperor had remained silent for a long time back then, ultimately saying only a single sentence: "Because each of you needs to see a different version of Me."
Thinking back on it now...
Sanguinius looked at the golden Custodian.
Perhaps even the Custodes were but a single cog in the Emperor's grand design. This seemingly absurd order to bring the Alar bloodline to end the sin might harbor intentions far beyond his comprehension.
"...I understand." Sanguinius slowly took a step back, yielding the path to Sacken.
He asked nothing further, for it would be useless; an Imperial Custodian would not defy the Emperor's orders to answer him.
Paul breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.
Good, I bluffed my way through it.
Sure enough, at this point in the Warhammer 30K timeline, the combination of "Imperial Secret" plus "Custodes Praetor" was a universal skeleton key.
After all, who would have thought that a bunch of players would be impersonating the Custodes? Who would have thought that the "Imperial Secret" was for an eleven-year-old girl to purify her own biological father?
But in this fantastical, anything-is-possible Warhammer universe... this was very Warhammer.
Paul gave a slight nod.
Then, he looked down at Helovia beside him.
The little girl was currently gripping his hand tightly, her small face pale, her body trembling slightly.
Her eyes were fixed squarely on the half-man, half-monster figure struggling to breathe in the ruins.
The call of her bloodline was pushed to its absolute extreme at this moment.
"Go," Paul said softly, though his voice remained icy, filtering through the Custodian faceplate.
Helovia nodded forcefully.
Just moments ago, inside the Thunderhawk gunship, Paul had told her the truth.
"That man, Sacken Alar, is your biological father. Eighty years ago, House Alar was sent to the Black Ships by the Iron Hands; he is the sole survivor. He laid low for decades, orchestrating this revenge. But now, he has fallen to Chaos and become a puppet of the Dark Gods. Helovia, the blood of House Alar flows in your veins, as does... the psychic talent he gave you. Now, only you can put an end to all this."
She gripped her Magical Girl Transformation Device tightly and walked toward Sacken, step by step.
Every step was taken very slowly.
Because... they were far too heavy.
In the ruins, Sacken struggled to raise his head.
His vision was already blurry; the sensory damage brought on by psychic overload was rapidly deteriorating.
But he still managed to see that tiny figure approaching.
In that instant...
The House Alar bloodline within Sacken resonated explosively!
The resonance was so intense that it even temporarily suppressed the Tzeentchian brand Aetaos had left upon his soul.
"Urgh..." Sacken opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only pale blue bloody froth welled out.
But his eyes—those eyes reflected clear, distinct emotions.
Agitation, joy, disbelief.
And... a bottomless abyss of regret.
He realized it.
This little girl wearing peculiar clothes and holding a wand...
Was his blood.
Was his child.
The child he thought had died long ago, or perhaps had never been born at all.
She had grown up.
She... had come before him.
Sacken wanted to reach out his hand.
But his right arm was fractured and deformed from the previous battle, capable of nothing more than weak twitches.
He wanted to say, "I'm sorry." Wanted to say, "Daddy was wrong." Wanted to say, "Run, it's dangerous here."
But as the words reached his lips, all that remained was a string of meaningless whimpers.
At the same time, Helovia also came to a halt.
She stopped three meters away from Sacken.
At this distance, she could clearly see every wound on his body. Every blood vessel ruptured from psychic overload, every patch of purple tentacles withering and sloughing off.
She also felt the call of that bloodline.
It was so intense it made her heart ache.
But she had no feelings... for this man.
The father in her memory was nothing more than a blurry shadow. Her mother would bring him up occasionally, saying he was a scholar with a reassuring aura, saying he would definitely come back to find them.
But Helovia had never seen him.
Her childhood memories consisted only of the underhive's sewage and the noise of the refineries. The ever-insufficient corpse-starch and her mother's increasingly haggard face.
Then they were tricked into going to the Aru Industrial Zone.
If Big Brother Paul hadn't saved them...
Helovia tightened her grip on her wand.
Inside the pink crystal, the nebula-like energy sped up its rotation slightly.
She looked at Sacken, looked at this father who had given her life, yet had been absent for her entire existence.
She didn't know what to say.
Should she hate him? But he looked... so pitiful.
Should she forgive him? But the crimes he had committed... had killed so many people.
A struggle unfitting for her age surfaced on Helovia's small face.
And right at that moment.
"Hehehe..."
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