Garmo Zejie looked down at his unarmored limbs illuminated by ritual candles.
The censer burned in the niche, giving off the smell of holy oil, and his hand held the sword that turned off the stand loosely.
Metal gleamed between exposed muscles, embedded in the edges of the black carapace, covered in thick scar tissue, and the white smock he wore betrayed the cost of faith in Chaos - the palms disappeared, becoming It has bird-like claws, its thighs are like those of an arthropod, and its neck is a bunch of interlocking valves.
Deep beneath his feet, the Heart of Hate's engines churned and roared, advancing in a chaotic ethereal energy.
Several scrolls hung in the dim light, each recording a past battle he had fought for the Empire.
Ritual texts describe the glorious forgotten exploits, culminating in Princia, and leading up to the fateful moment of the search for the Soul Spear.
Since then, the mark has mostly been defeats, or miserable wins that gained nothing in the long run.
To see them is to witness the decline of a once proud and proud soul. These banners were written with the most meticulous and delicate brushwork in the past, but now there is no time to write properly, so the penmanship is hasty and sloppy.
Everything seems to be the same as before, but the essence has long been lost.
The smoke from the incense burner is soulless, and there is no rhythm in the cold air.
Garmo Zejie grabbed the sword again and recalled his fight with Soshyan.
He had done this a dozen times, trying to figure out the mistake he had made.
So far he has found none, his enemies are simply stronger - stronger, faster, sharper.
There is nothing to be learned from it, only a realization of his own weakness.
Digris, Ezekiel, Diego...
There was a time when Garmo Zeje also longed and aspired to stand shoulder to shoulder with those names and become the greatest Thinker and Astartes psyker.
But that disastrous operation ended all opportunities and instead put "shackles" on him.
This is war, this is fate, and there is no reward to be fished out of the quagmire called "fall."
Wizard swords swirled in the darkness, carving the air.
Garmo Zejie stepped forward to fight against an enemy in his memory who was no longer in front of him.
He had done this often in the Chapter's archives long ago, spending hours at a time fighting enemies recorded in the archives.
His sword was once as precise and smooth as writing.
The blade turned, struck down, and then withdrew.
Garmo Zejie adjusted his center of gravity to compensate for each swing of the sword.
When he withdrew his forelimbs, there was only a microsecond delay due to the uncoordinated movements of his limbs, almost imperceptible, but enough.
He maintained his posture, sizing up how much of his weakness would be exposed by these microseconds of sluggishness.
The mutated limbs always gave him an indescribable feeling.
He slowly relaxed.
At this time, the incense burner has been extinguished, and the remaining smoke is floating gently.
Garmo Zejie let the sword tip hang down and turned around from the center of the meditation room. At this time, he caught a glimpse of the outline of an observer in the shadow, lingering in the candlelight, waiting patiently.
"Friend, you have something to do with me."
Garmo Zejie's breathing was a little heavy, and then he walked towards the place where his weapon should be hung.
"The Astropaths received new information."
Tubek emerged from the shadows, without a helmet, with a faint aura shining in his eyes.
"...It was Huron's order to withdraw all men and ships back to the Maelstrom. His contract with Abaddon seemed to be over."
Garmo Zejie nodded, put down his sword and tightened his belt.
"How's the Imperial pursuit going?"
"Abaddon lost three more frigates, but finally dragged the fleet into the subspace. However, there is one cruiser that can no longer move. It may be used to supplement our crew."
"What else?"
Tubek paused.
"I heard that Abaddon and Ahriman met."
Garmo Zejie walked towards the exit of the meditation room, and Tubek joined him from the side.
"You're very uncomfortable."
"Indeed, after all..."
Tubek cast an uncertain glance forward.
"You also know what happened to us."
"That was all in the past. I would also like to talk to Ahriman if I have the chance. He knows a lot, and we still have to rely on him for many things."
"What now? Follow Xiulun's orders?"
"That's not necessary."
Garmo Zejie walked to the curtain covering the exit. The light from the corridor outside was projected on the paper-white floor of the entrance.
"Huron has nothing more to offer us..."
"By the way, there's one more thing."
Tubek stood there without crossing the threshold.
Garmo Zejie also stopped and tilted his head slightly.
"What?"
"I have also seen the report of the unlucky fleet commander of the Black Legion. He actually fought well. Although he caused huge losses, he did strand the empire's fleet in the void, allowing the hidden fleet to have a chance to go Expelling the mourning stars to fish for people."
Garmo Zejie listened patiently, but he already had some concerns in his heart.
"What really caused his battle situation to completely collapse was the sudden appearance of a giant ship, a Glory Queen-class ship. Do you understand what I mean?"
"not yet."
Tubek stared at Garmozejie.
"I'm not kidding, bro."
"Me neither, brother."
"Things are not that simple. Astral Knight, Pain Star, Hellfire Stone, brother, you know you have a lot of things that you still hide from me. Now I hope to know some truth."
"I admit that there are some things that I didn't tell you at the beginning, but it was not out of distrust, but because I didn't want to affect the subsequent battle."
"Okay, so what now?"
Tubek's brown face looked tense in the candlelight, with a ceremonial scar on his cheek.
Garmo Zejie took a long breath.
"Okay, let me be blunt. Just like our first glance, if I am not mistaken, the Astral Knights are the remnants of the forgotten Eleven Legions of the past."
Tubek's eyebrows twitched, but he controlled his behavior well.
"Yes, I actually have some guesses about this. It's not difficult to analyze this from the information you collected."
"And the banishing star——"
Garmo Zejie twitched his nose.
"The flagship of their legion should be hidden."
"You mean that ship is the flagship of the Eleventh Legion!?"
Tuback's voice sounded surprised.
"With such a big ship, where are they hiding?"
"I don't know about this, but I can't think of anything other than the legion's flagship that could make Soshiyang mobilize so much. Moreover, His Holiness also said that the whereabouts of the flagship were unknown when the Eleventh Legion fell."
"You think this has something to do with the Hellfire Stone?"
"It's just speculation, but it's meaningless now. He should have already obtained the flagship."
