Scourge Gathers

Clang~ Clang~ Clang~

The atmosphere was heavy on the path toward the Navigator Sanctum.

Arthur was quietly cutting down enemies at the front of the group, while Romulus trailed behind him, firing his Bolter in rhythmic, formulaic bursts, looking somewhat distracted.

He had just spent a sudden influx of points to spawn a batch of troops, deploying them to help the Astra Militarum hold the key chokepoints within the cruiser.

Crack.

Cleaving an Ork in two with a single strike and crushing a Gretchin that was trying to sneak away with its boss's tooth under his boot, Arthur noticed that, aside from the Astra Militarum at the Defense Nodes, the number of living things was dwindling significantly.

Whether alien or human, in the Warp—a chaotic region devoid of any supplies—everyone was bleeding out their last drop of blood in the melee, leaving nothing behind but death.

"Arthur, are you alright?"

Romulus, still micromanaging the Ultramarines as they cleared the various decks, looked at Arthur and asked.

Ever since they had taken down the Chaos Space Marine, Arthur's state of mind had been off.

"I'm fine."

Arthur shook his head, gripping his blade tightly.

"Just feeling a bit depressed."

Cypheris Gage, facing a gauntlet of enemies, had dragged his armor with its damaged power pack to win back sixteen Gene-seed from the hands of dishonorable Chaos heretics.

Such a tenacious warrior had died right before his eyes, and Arthur, who held a special reverence for such heroic figures due to his past upbringing, found it hard to let go.

"Relax, they've surely returned to the Golden Throne. The Warp is Old Man Gold's home turf, after all."

Romulus appeared much calmer.

Or rather, long before he had met Arthur, he had already experienced the culture shock unique to Warhammer 40k.

"But even the Emperor isn't omnipotent in the Warp."

Arthur replied sorrowfully; if the Emperor had the power to protect his warriors, this assault from the Warp could never have happened.

If not for them, this warrior and the Gene-seed he guarded would have become part of a Warp sacrifice, forever unable to reach the Emperor they worshipped.

It was a classic case of no good deed going unpunished—fighting to the death for humanity only to end up tortured by a Chaos God.

"Sigh."

Even Romulus couldn't help but sigh at that.

After all, besides the Emperor, there were those four piles of filth in the Warp.

"Forget it, let's not talk about this. The more we talk, the angrier I get."

Arthur shook his head, casting those negative emotions out of his mind.

"By the way, are you really okay chatting while micromanaging?"

"It's fine, my brain can handle it for now."

Romulus indicated it was no big deal.

"Besides, you know as well as I do, I did plenty of dual-boxing back when we played games."

"You're truly ruthless."

Arthur couldn't help but give a thumbs-up. Even though his own brain was quite superhuman now, his thought patterns were already set, and he still couldn't support multi-threaded operations.

"Hmph."

Romulus shrugged, accepting the compliment, and then Arthur's next question came through.

"So, what are you going to do after we get out of here?"

"Are you planning to return the Gene-seed?"

Romulus knew exactly what his brother was thinking.

"Yeah."

Arthur nodded.

"Since I promised, I have to see it through."

"Indeed."

Romulus nodded in agreement.

Setting aside the fact that their moral standards wouldn't allow them to break a promise to such a great warrior, Arthur had sworn an oath to the Emperor—there was no backing out now.

Because in the 40k universe, gods were real. If you swore an oath to some ancient sorcerous geezer and then broke it, who knew if the next Warp jump would toss you into some godforsaken corner just because you stepped forward with your left foot first.

After all, no matter how much the Emperor himself might deny it, the fact remained that believing in him was genuinely useful.

Although, according to Romulus's hypothesis, they were likely high-ranking minor gods of the Warp themselves, or at the very least, some kind of formidable entities, making them almost immune to the interference of other Warp powers.

But then again, they had received a proper education, and they weren't like those piles of filth in the Warp; they still possessed the morality to keep their word.

"Let's wait until we find the other two to discuss it. We can exchange intel and set a course of action for the future."

Romulus shared the vision of the Ultramarines, watching as the heavily mutated Astra Militarum soldiers begged the demigods to grant them a glorious death.

Romulus fell into a self-imposed silence.

Just like that, the two of them, each harboring their own thoughts, arrived at the Navigator Sanctum, where they saw a Blood Angels soldier with his head lowered, dozing off.

"Yo, you guys are here."

Compared to the frenzied state he was in when they first met, Karna was now sporting an optimistic look, his tone carrying a sense of lethargy so thick it felt like it was overflowing from the screen—not something an ordinary person could pull off.

"Ah, the Geller field is sorted. Now it just depends on whether Ramesses II can pull the ship out."

The two waved their hands as a greeting, and Romulus replied.

"Then let's head in first. With you guys there, maybe we can help him brainstorm."

Karna stepped aside to make room, and after both of them entered, he trailed at the back of the group.

Hummm~~

The moment they stepped inside, they were met with a blinding glare.

The sudden shift in lighting did not trouble their superhuman vision; their pupils adjusted in an instant to accommodate the overly bright environment, allowing Arthur to clearly see the scene within the sanctum.

The floor was littered with twisted corpses, flesh and metal powder scattered about like a paint can knocked over by a mischievous child.

Sitting in the Navigator's throne was a Red-armored Iron Rider Terminator floating in mid-air.

"Thousand Sons?"

Arthur had assumed that, aside from their Imperium Secundus group, the others would be loyalists.

"Ramesses II doesn't play Space Marine 2, but he plays Thousand Sons on the tabletop. The initial appearance probably has something to do with the chapters we like in our subconscious."

Romulus speculated.

"It's rare for us to drag him into a game and have him end up here directly."

Karna clicked his tongue.

"He cried the hardest when he first transmigrated. Oh, Arthur might not know about that."

"He was too busy hacking people to death when he first arrived; it took him ages to run into me."

Romulus couldn't help but retort, though he was somewhat impressed by his childhood friend.

Don't let his usual gentle appearance fool you; when he really loses his cool, he usually solves problems with his fists, and he hits hard. Back in elementary school, he beat those brats who tore up his homework until they were wailing for their parents.

"...Khorne would definitely like you."

"Romulus just said that."

Arthur ignored his friend's teasing and asked, "What about you?"

"I've figured it out. Instead of internalizing the stress, I might as well enjoy life."

Karna maintained an indifferent attitude.

"You're certainly open-minded."

"I can trigger the Black Rage and go on autopilot, so I have plenty of time to think."

"..."

The three of them chatted idly for a few moments before turning their attention back to Ramesses, who was still glowing in mid-air like a lightbulb.

By now, most of the living things on the ship were dead, the Geller field was secured, the Chaos Space Marine who had entered the hull via ritual had been dealt with, and the ship's core area was under control. You could say everyone had done what they needed to do.

Now it was just a matter of whether their buddy could lead them out of the Warp.

"Gwa!!!"

Just as the three were waiting in silence, Ramesses, who had been quietly guiding the cruiser through the Warp, began to struggle like a drowning fish.

What followed was a tremor that spread throughout the entire hull.

"?"