The battle barge "Eternal Night" sailed smoothly in the void, its huge engine running at low speed, and the frigates moved lightly with it, shuttling back and forth in the investigation area tens of thousands of kilometers wide.
The bottomless void reflects the blue-gray appearance of the Evernight, like a hunting wolf. The thick armor on both sides is decorated with skulls with cold gazes.
This giant ship had just emerged from the subspace a few hours ago. The aftermath of the shutdown of Geller's station was still emitting a dazzling white light, illuminating the hull made of fine gold.
The Evernight's command bridge is located at the rear of the massive ship, surrounded by tall towers, bulwarks, and sloping turrets.
The void shield ripples like gossamer on the several-meter-thick glass porthole. Below it is the crew of the bridge, who will do their best to ensure that the ship sails normally and that all its systems operate perfectly.
The space inside the bridge is very huge, and a cave-like hall more than 200 meters long has been carved out of the central area of the battleship.
The top of the hall is mostly transparent, and lenses like portals to the physical universe are arranged in a grid made of steel.
Below it is an open platform surrounding cranes, each patrolled by the Chapter's servants armed with weapons.
Further down is the middle deck. Most of the people here are mortal crew members. Most of them are crew members and mechanics wearing pearl gray robes. Of course, there are also anti-jump gangs among them. They wear explosion-proof armor and transparent face shields on the metal deck. Move forward step by step.
There are openings in certain places on the deck floor that reveal the structure beneath the deck below.
It's crowded with tactical workstations: rows of throbbing cogitator computers, and servitors huddled in dim ditches.
Many servitors are tied to their respective terminals by cables. There are a large number of tubes on their backs or faces, and the patches of gray skin exposed from them are the last remnants of their humanity.
The way these people serve is different from the past. Now they are lobotomized slaves, forever shackled to the machines that maintain their lives, performing numb and dull tasks over and over again.
Above all these levels, located at the very end of the bridge hall, is the command seat.
This is a hexagonal platform extending from the arched wall, ten meters in diameter, and surrounded by heavy steel handrails.
In the center of the great platform was a slightly raised dais, and in the center of the dais stood the throne—a heavy, angular seat carved from solid granite.
It is so huge that it would be difficult for a mortal to sit on it, but that is not a problem here - because no mortal has ever dared to set foot on this platform.
The place had been empty for several hours, but that would change now that the Everea was close to its target.
When the support piston began to retract back and forth, the huge doors behind the throne made a hissing sound.
Then they burst open.
A huge creature walked through the gates.
Magyar, Lord of the Temple of Death and Chapter Master of the Ascetic Chapter, strode onto the dais in his burly armor.
This formidable warrior wears exquisitely crafted power armor that looks like a skeleton. The chest emblem is made of long ribs bent and twisted. The imperial flying eagle with spread wings is like a high throne looking at the corridor of bones. The power armor ranges from greaves to greaves. Every component from the arm armor, leg armor to neck armor was shaped like a skeleton, and the armor made a menacing low and regular buzzing sound as he moved.
His movements were slow and calm, and every move showed caution and solemnity. The bones as a trophy were constantly shaking on the huge shoulder armor, and behind the armor was a cloak full of bullet holes.
The Chapter Master's face was as shiny as tanned leather, and wrapping his plump jaw were two tufts of sideburns as black as night, as bright and neat as the hair of predators.
No one knows the actual age of this fearsome Chapter Master, but most people guess that he is at least seven hundred years old. He may be the oldest among the many Chapter Masters in the Empire, second only to Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels. Ancient heroes.
With him came other giants.
Astador, the Death Priest, wears armor as black as a forge, his face hidden beneath the drab mask of an ancient helmet.
Hauganders, the Fourth Captain of the Chapter and the Lord of the Fleet, wears an armor full of battle scars. His slate gray hair is braided and hangs down over his neck. Due to the customs of the home planet, such a hairstyle is Ascetic Chapters are not uncommon.
The door slid shut behind them, sealing off the platform where the trio stood.
Under them, the deck creaked under the pressure.
Mazar examined the sensor with a grimace on his face, and the wrinkles on his forehead were as deep as gray mountains. .
"Are we there?"
Sound surged from his chest like a revving rhino engine.
The monks in the war group believed that he did not need to raise his voice even in the fiercest battle.
"soon."
Astador said softly:
"We'll be at Nathan Four soon."
Mazar muttered and sat down on the throne.
As a giant of almost three meters tall and two meters wide, he moves very easily.
The Chapter Leader's downcast brows were knitted together, and his green eyes shone with clarity and alertness.
"It's so boring."
He said impatiently:
"Hell, do we really need to spend time on this kind of entertainment?"
Generally speaking, Astartes become more taciturn and serious as they grow older, but Magyar is an exception.
Perhaps it has something to do with the chapter's tradition of eating the flesh and blood of the enemy. Whether in battle or in daily life, he maintained a fiery passion, which kept him from becoming depressed as the years passed.
Of course, there is also the occasional undignified side.
Once there is no fighting, he can easily fall into a low mood.
For him, life without a goal is a fragmented job, and a hunter needs some real prey.
"Chapter Commander, we are here to visit a group of heroes."
Haugandez said, leaning forward slightly as if checking the visual feedback from his helmet.
As soon as he finished speaking, a semi-circular display screen surrounding the command platform slowly lowered and started flashing.
A brown-red planet jumped into the field of view, growing larger every second, but because it was too far away, the picture was still blurry and distorted.
"Naisen IV has received our entry request."
As the fourth company commander spoke, he carefully checked the data sent at the same time as the image.
"After entering the starport, we will arrive at their monastery fortress in the Thunderhawk."
The images kept coming back, and Mazar stared at them, his mood slowly starting to change.
"They built a monastic fortress up there?"
"should be."
Mazar jumped up from the throne, a smile appeared on his face, implying some malice.
"If I remember correctly, this Soshiyan Chapter Commander is still a new recruit who has served for less than fifty years."
The hazy image became clear, and the planet's surface came into view. Dark brown mixed with dirty orange stripes, it looked like a rusty iron ball in the universe.
"If the information is correct."
"Today's young people all have two brushes."
He then burst into a savage laugh.
"A battle group with only thirty people left can still rebuild the monastery fortress and exploit the navy."
He looked at Astador and then at Hauganders, his eyes radiating excitement.
"I can't wait to meet him!"
