Inside the room, one twisted, deformed creation after another appeared—things as warped and shattered as the Warp itself.
They resembled savage beasts, yet still wore the outer skins of the material world. Some looked like machines, their flesh beginning to proliferate after losing their restraints. Others were humanoid from the start, mutating visibly the moment they broke free of their shackles.
"Ramesses really did study medicine."
Even knowing that creating soulless bodies through materialization for experiments was, in theory, no different from the lab rats dissected by those people in medical school in his previous life—aside from Warhammer 40k's absurd setting making it all exceptionally dark and twisted—
Arthur still felt physically ill.
The bodies created through materialization, now occupied by Demons, truly had an uncanny-valley quality to them.
And yet they had clearly been painstakingly crafting Cadaver Teachers here at the cost of their own souls, conducting sacred research for humanity's future.
But Chaos had somehow turned it into the evil laboratory of a deranged scientist.
Sure enough, anything tainted by Chaos became twisted.
Warp psychic energy construct research, Stormcast Eternals knockoff Possessed Marines research, Weasel Chat Channel construction research, Demon personality correction research, Safe House concealment efficiency research, and so on...
Narrowing his eyes, a series of research projects flashed through his mind.
Ramesses had actually kept researching in this environment without changing expression. In less than fifteen days, he had come up with so much work for him. Medical students really were not something just anyone could become.
Screech—
The Black Sword lit up with an azure force field, annihilating the nearest Chaos creation.
Searching through his memories, Arthur began methodically clearing away the traces within this area.
Researching Chaos and coming into contact with Demons were unforgivable capital crimes in any era of the Imperium.
This was the secret they had to keep.
Aboard the Nicor, Tyberos and the Chapter's Company Captains gathered around a massive holographic tactical display.
At that moment, everyone's gaze was fixed on a warrior at the edge of the display, wearing a skull mask and holding a long Adamantium staff.
Te Kahurangi, the Carcharodons' Chief Librarian, was an ancient warrior who had served the Chapter for over a thousand years.
After ending that unusual communication, the doubtful group had no choice but to seek the necessary help of the Chief Librarian who had led them through countless dangers.
The other side's knowledge of them seemed terrifying. Not only did they know the Chapter Master's name, they even knew a title that had never been made public.
They also seemed deeply familiar with their methods.
"While drifting through the Warp, I glimpsed what lay ahead. It was a blank fog. No figures remained in the void; only fragmented remnants of death lingered around it. Dense fear gathered there, filled with disbelief and the despair of approaching death."
"That sounded troubling."
Third Company Captain Akia looked at the two ships joined together on the tactical display.
Affected by the source-less rage in his bloodline, he was not good at thinking. Even so, he could hear the danger in those words.
That was not a good omen.
"But I also glimpsed the light of hope. Rich emotions gathered there—an uplifting feeling. Invisible bonds had dragged souls that should have perished back from the abyss of death. The Father of the Void's gaze had once rested there."
"How could you see such contradictory visions?"
As the Chapter Master who had worked alongside Kahurangi for a long time, Tyberos's cold tone carried a trace of surprise.
For Kahurangi, who excelled in prophecy, there was usually no need for him to speak in the obscure, incomprehensible manner common to other Psykers. He could directly recount fragments of the past and future. Why was it like this now?
"Because of that unseen thing?"
"Yes. It seemed the Librarian on the other side was highly skilled. He blocked my sight."
Kahurangi answered honestly. Aside from that, he truly could not think of any explanation for the vast blankness in his vision.
It could not be that none of those people had Warp reflections, could it?
"Then what is our answer?"
Through the viewport, Tyberos could see lights beginning to flash along the side of the heavily damaged Strike Cruiser.
It was an invitation.
"The answer remains unchanged."
Kahurangi opened his eyes.
"We will return fully laden."
"That is enough."
Ignoring any further remarks, Hunger and Slaughter on Tyberos's arms flashed as he gave his orders.
"Prepare the shuttle. First Company will remain to guard the flagship. Third Company, come with me."
Tyberos had not abandoned the idea of taking a little loot. At most, if the other side was truly in difficulty, they would take less.
He knew well that every choice carried risks, but such was the fate of the Carcharodons. Even when their interests conflicted, they had to step forward and tear off a piece of flesh.
Because they could not know whether they would last until the next morsel arrived.
The Sharks knew this world was never kind. Heretics, Xenos, even the Imperium they protected had never shown them a friendly face.
So they could only fight and seize, cast aside honor and reputation, and become the most unwelcome Marauders in the eyes of other humans.
Inside the shuttle, every Carcharodon remained astonishingly silent. They gripped their battered Chainaxe blades and loaded Bolter rounds into barrels worn nearly smooth.
If what awaited them was a challenge, then let it come.
But when the shuttle's Melta beam tore through the isolation door before it had fully opened, and the silent warriors charged out of the shuttle, they were dumbfounded by the sight before them.
Before them, fully armed Cataphractii Terminators stood in orderly ranks. The wall ahead was brightly illuminated by the lights of several massive vehicles, revealing one ancient, powerful weapon of war after another.
In the scent drifting toward him, Tyberos detected no smell of danger—only the fragrance of food.
These were the battered remnants that had supposedly needed rescue?
That could not be right.
"..."
Watching the civilians who had lost their balance when the isolation chamber was breached get shielded behind more than ten Cataphractii Terminators, Tyberos expressionlessly withdrew his Lightning Claw.
"Kahurangi!"
The shout carried a note of complaint.
"I only said that we would return fully laden."
Naturally shifting the blame, Kahurangi looked over the dazzling array of vehicles in the chamber. He raised his staff to hold the shuttles that intended to charge in afterward in place, then slowly moved them inside, sealing the still-leaking isolation chamber with psychic power in passing.
Reverence born from the Deathwatch Librarian's exquisite skill appeared in his gaze.
Even now, he could not see the slightest trace of these warriors' future.
"?"
Ramesses, who was still recalling his research projects, noticed the reverent gaze directed at him and tilted his head in confusion.
"Welcome, brothers of the Carcharodons. I am Romulus, Kill Team Captain of the Deathwatch."
Releasing the hand he had used to help Kovek keep his balance, Romulus introduced himself briefly in fluent High Gothic, seemingly unconcerned by the Carcharodons' aggressive manner.
The Carcharodons, who had looked like bandits a moment ago, immediately became restrained.
"...Hello."
Looking at Romulus, who was as extraordinarily tall as himself, Tyberos felt as though he had meant to rob some down-and-out unlucky man, only to discover he had held up an armored cash transport in disguise.
This was going to make them look bad.
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