About three Terran hours later.
The first to return to the Bridge was the Inquisitor.
"Sorry, Lord Rowan, but I have some bad news. In my judgment, this Strike Cruiser has lost the ability to travel through the Warp."
Leonardo strode onto the Bridge, his Terminator Armor gleaming with golden light. "Both the Gellar Field and the Warp Engine have been corrupted by Chaos sorcery. When they were cleansed by the glory of Our Lord, they were irreversibly damaged. Most of the weapons systems are also offline. Some of the Macro Cannons could still be fired with enough manpower, but most of the close-defense cannons that fused with the ship under the Warp's influence are completely useless."
"All right."
Rowan accepted the news quickly.
He had been prepared for this.
Even though Rowan could now control the Machine Spirit of the ship, that didn't mean the Strike Cruiser no longer needed a crew. Some of the equipment still required crew members to operate it.
Rowan looked at Leonardo and asked, "Do you know how to repair or build a Warp Engine? If you do, I could use your memories and my Reality Warping Ability to fix it."
"Sorry, Lord Rowan."
Leonardo shook his head. "Even though the Adeptus Custodes have a broad range of knowledge, I still don't know how to build a new Warp Engine or understand the structure of devices like the Gellar Field."
"Fine. I understand."
Rowan nodded. "So this ship can only travel within a star system now. It's more or less like a Chartist Fleet vessel—it can no longer travel faster than light."
"I understand the situation. Thank you for your help."
Leonardo glanced around the Bridge, hesitated, then asked, "Lord Rowan, did you... make all these weapons and pieces of equipment here?"
As soon as the Inquisitor had entered the Bridge, she had noticed how much it had changed.
It was clear that Rowan hadn't spent the past two hours doing nothing but waiting. He had used that time to repair the Bridge with his Reality Warping Ability. The signs of the fierce battle were almost entirely gone.
In one corner of the Bridge sat a large assortment of Astartes equipment—including MK7 artificer Power Armor, Cataphractii-pattern Terminator Power Armor, and even more than a dozen Dreadnoughts.
At that, Rowan smiled faintly, a hint of excitement flashing in his eyes. "These are the 'fun little tools' we'll be using next."
Seeing his expression, Leonardo knew there was no way he could talk Rowan out of it.
Though he hadn't known this mysterious "human" named Rowan for long, he had already gotten a general sense of what he was like.
The man chosen by Our Lord had a strong will and extensive combat experience. Despite looking like an ordinary, harmless mortal, he was, in truth, extraordinarily dangerous.
More remarkably, Leonardo believed Rowan possessed astonishing wisdom and an endless supply of ideas. His mind was remarkably open—a rare thing in an Imperium that had grown so rigid.
And what was even harder to judge as good or bad was that his so-called Reality Warping Ability could bring every strange idea that came to mind to life.
Perhaps that was why Our Lord had chosen him to save the future of the Imperium of Man.
After a little while, Sibyl and Lucia returned together.
They were followed onto the Bridge by a large number of Chaos Space Marines, held aloft by psychic power.
All of the Astartes had been stripped of their Power Armor and weapons. Their bodies bore all manner of mutilations and mutations, and most were unconscious. Even the few who remained awake were powerless to resist.
Rowan glanced over them and counted.
—There were 133 in total.
"These are all the Heretics we managed to capture. Some resisted too fiercely to be taken alive, so we killed them on the spot. As for our original ship, the situation is grim."
Sibyl spoke first, reporting, "I searched carefully with psychic spells but found no other survivors. They all perished under the successive attacks by the Xenos and the Heretics."
Rowan nodded to show he understood.
He walked toward the Chaos Astartes who had just been set down in a heap on the floor.
Fortunately, the Bridge was spacious enough to hold so many people.
The Chaos Astartes raised their heads to look at Rowan as he approached. They were a revolting sight: pale skin, twisted and mutated limbs, hollow black eyes and mouths, faces utterly inhuman—enough to fill anyone still in possession of their sanity with fear and disgust.
Those still conscious began to shout over one another:
"Ha! When did the False Emperor's lapdogs become so kind?"
"Heehee, do you want us to serve you? Sure—as long as you give me pleasure... Hahahaha..."
"Praise the Lord of Pleasure! Praise Slaanesh! Ahhh!"
Even with their hands and feet bound—and some with all four limbs severed—they writhed in a heap, a spectacle of utter madness, as if they had forgotten their plight.
Rowan said nothing. His gaze held a faint trace of pity.
He drew Solomon's Ceremonial Sword from his belt and activated his Reality Warping Ability, channeling the Emperor's Holy Power within the blade.
In an instant, illusory Golden Flame rose up and engulfed every Chaos Astartes.
One Chaos Astartes opened his eyes, dazed.
Then memories flooded his mind like a tidal wave, and the mental distortions caused by Chaos Corruption vanished in an instant.
He stared blankly around at the twisted, inhuman faces. In the black eye sockets of his former battle-brothers, he clearly saw his own fallen appearance, identical to theirs.
"No... no..."
A tear slowly slid down his cheek. "In pursuit of this so-called 'perfection,' what the hell have we become?!"
As the Astartes gradually came to their senses, cries, shouts, and agonized screams rang throughout the Bridge.
Some couldn't bear their anguish and guilt. They even tried to smash their skulls against the Ceramite floor to put an end to it.
"Hmph. What a bunch of foolish Heretics."
Even witnessing this, Sibyl, a Demon Inquisitor, still looked disgusted. Her voice was cold as she said, "Lord Rowan, I don't think this is a good idea."
"These Heretics have fallen too far. They're no longer worthy of basking in the Divine Emperor's light!"
Leonardo and Lucia said nothing, but their eyes also showed their disapproval.
After all, this scene ran entirely counter to the Imperium of Man's extreme beliefs.
They all held to one principle: Never try to understand a Traitor's thinking, because pondering breeds Heresy.
"...I'll make suitable arrangements, I promise."
Rowan reassured his team, then walked over to the men in turmoil.
"Quiet!"
His soft command carried an invisible force, sweeping through their minds like a gentle breeze and gradually calming them.
"There's no question that you've committed grave sins."
Rowan's voice rang out clearly and firmly through the Bridge. "But I, Rowan, as the Emperor's Contractor, will give you a chance to atone. If you can find release in the endless battles ahead, you may return to the Golden Throne and let the Emperor judge your sins."
"You will receive no rewards or glory for the battles ahead, nor any pleasure or leisure. You will fight only to atone, save more of humanity, and create greater benefits."
He paused briefly, then pointed toward the large pile of Power Armor nearby.
"If you're willing, stand up. These suits of Power Armor will be your new cells."
Every word Rowan spoke struck the hearts of the former Chaos Warband Astartes of the Blissful Angels like a chisel.
In the end, they struggled to their feet one by one, supporting each other as they walked toward the Power Armor.
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