Prove It to You, Navigator, Engage!

Maximus wasn't without his doubts about Alvin's explanation.

After all, to anyone who still had their wits about them and knew the "Yellow Skin's" ways,

the reason Alvin had given was most likely complete bullshit, and utterly impractical!

What kind of person was the Yellow Skin? The Adeptus Custodes might not know, but the Thunder Warriors certainly did.

He treated the Thunder Warriors like expendable materials, using them up and throwing them away.

When recruiting them, he'd talked about doing it for humanity, for Terra, for the future... But what was the truth?

It wasn't until much later that Maximus learned the "Emperor's" future didn't include "defective products" like them.

And so the Thunder Warriors became a burden, replaced by the superior, more stable Astartes.

But if Maximus knew the "Emperor's" ways so well, why was he still willing to believe him?

The answer was simple.

He wanted it to be true. No matter how slim the possibility, he still hoped it was.

Hope—what a ridiculous, what a tragic word... Yet he had clung to that tiny bit of hope and survived until now. In fact, he could say that without it, he would have died long ago.

Whether Alvin was telling the truth or not, Maximus wanted to take the chance.

Even if the odds were one in ten million, one in a hundred million!

He still wanted to try for his brothers, for this pitiful, insignificant "hope."

"But before that, I need to see the others."

Alvin had a request of his own.

Maximus thought it over for a moment and decided it was reasonable, so he nodded. "All right. Come with me."

Soon, under Maximus's guidance, the two went deeper inside and arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned "warehouse."

In the corner lay several rusted,