Calvin

In a small villa decorated with a hint of ancient Terra Baroque style, yet possessing the simple, utilitarian feel characteristic of a colonial outpost.

Fu Qinghai, dressed in humble attire, sat on a brown-red antique sofa while a servant poured him a cup of black tea.

"So, little Locke, you came to see me—is it also about that spaceship?" Sitting across from Fu Qinghai was Calvin, a middle-aged man with brown hair wearing a loose Imperial official uniform. His stubbled face was etched with exhaustion; he leaned listlessly against the sofa, legs crossed, sizing up the Fu Qinghai before him.

"Yes, the deaths of Cedric and the others have already spread throughout the outpost. I assume you are aware of this, sir." Fu Qinghai looked straight at Calvin. "I want to know, what is inside that ship, Lord Calvin?"

"What's inside..." Calvin picked up a bottle and took a sip. "I don't know how to describe it... little Locke, have you ever seen a battle between angels?"

Calvin stared fixedly at the coffee table, his gaze unfocused. The expression shifting across his face was a mix of fear and helplessness. "Those angels you look up to, those demigods walking among men, the unbreakable guardians of the Empire—could they truly fall, betray? Could they reach a point where they slaughter one another? By the Throne, I have never witnessed such... such..."

He then gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Heh, and here I am, why am I telling these things to a child who grew up in the slums?"

"There are people alive inside, aren't there?" Ignoring Calvin's rambling, Fu Qinghai asked directly.

"Yes, you're right, there are people alive." Calvin grabbed the bottle and took another deep swig, as if only alcohol could soothe his shattered worldview. "I've thought about it. When everything is over, someone will come to the outpost. We shall just wait. Whoever he is, he will rule this outpost, or perhaps destroy it—who knows?"

Calvin waved his hand wearily and said, "This is not a problem for you to worry about, little Locke. Coming to Cheslatan is the first time in your life you've felt the direct rays of a star, isn't it? Enjoy it, keep eating the outpost's free rations, and don't go near that ship."

"That is my final piece of advice to you."

Calvin was right. Having lived in the lower levels of a hive city, Locke had only ever known artificial lighting from the Hive Electrician Guild; he had never experienced what it was like to be bathed in the light of a star.

"Cedric... what a nuisance, just a bunch of ignorant lower-hive vermin..." the slightly intoxicated Calvin muttered under his breath.

"Understood, sir. Farewell." Having obtained the information he wanted, Fu Qinghai said no more and politely stood up to leave.

Outside the villa, Feiyi was leaning against a jet bike waiting for Fu Qinghai, her straight, long legs quite striking. Seeing him emerge, she quickly asked:

"How did it go, A-Luo? What did Calvin say? Did he tell you what's going on?"

"He didn't say." Fu Qinghai's expression was grave as he mounted the bike. "But it amounts to the same thing."

Dim, yellow light hit the earthy-yellow concrete walls, casting long, dark shadows of the room's furnishings.

This was a three-bedroom, one-living room, one-kitchen, one-bathroom house, much larger than Fu Qinghai's single-room shack—this was Feiyi's home.

After Feiyi's parents passed away from illness, they left the young girl some inheritance.

This included the house with its second-floor attic, a Levant Cyclone-V small jet bike, some furniture and home appliances, a pile of sampling and analysis equipment, and a collection of alien plant data.

It wasn't exactly wealthy, but it was much better than Fu Qinghai, a pure proletarian. After all, even that single-room shack didn't belong to him; it was just provided by the colonial outpost.

The night at the colonial outpost was dry and cool. In the kitchen, Feiyi was wearing her mother's grey linen camisole dress, concentrating on slicing a plate of alien fruit from Cheslatan like a virtuous little wife. The dress hung loosely on her slender shoulders, and her budding chest pushed against the fabric, while the glimpse of fair, soft skin beneath her arms added a touch of allure to the quiet room.

Fu Qinghai had no heart to appreciate this scene. He sat cross-legged on the living room carpet with his back against the sofa, frowning in thought as he weighed the pros and cons.

One thing he was almost certain of: that crashed spaceship was not just a warship—there were Astartes on board!

Calvin was an administrative official of the Departmento Munitorum who had followed the expeditionary fleet; he was no ignorant hive-city commoner.

Ladrall might call any terrifying thing he couldn't understand a "demon," but there was only one type of existence that could be called an "angel" by Calvin—

Space Marines.

These humanoid biological weapons, developed by The Emperor using twenty Primarchs as blueprints, were also known as Astartes Monks. They were massive, possessed infinite strength, fought without fear of death, were skilled in the arts of slaughter, and had terrifying combat power. They were the reliance The Emperor used to unify Terra and launch the Great Crusade to reclaim the old human colonies of the galaxy.

They were also the true protagonists of the Warhammer 40K universe.

For the past millennium, the Great Crusade had been the main theme of the Imperium of Man and the entire galaxy. The supreme leader of the Imperium—The Emperor—led the Space Marine Legions he had personally crafted, departing from Holy Terra and using warp travel technology to march firmly toward the human colonies lost during the Age of Strife. While reclaiming these planets that once belonged to the solar human empire, he searched for the Primarchs scattered across the galaxy by warp powers, incorporating them into the Space Marine Legions built upon their respective genetic blueprints.

And now, if the timer on the colonial outpost hadn't been scrambled by warp storms, the era Fu Qinghai was in was the era of the Horus Heresy. The Emperor had completed most of the set goals of the Great Crusade, promoting his closest Primarch, Horus Lupercal, to "Warmaster," commanding all other Space Marine Legions and expeditionary fleets to continue the Great Crusade, while he himself returned to Terra, hiding in the basement of the Imperial Palace to study his secret project. In the subsequent series of events, under the gradual corruption of the Chaos Gods in the warp, Warmaster Horus eventually launched a rebellion against The Emperor, and the entire galaxy was plunged into flames and chaos.

Loyalty and betrayal, rebellion and suppression, were the themes of this era.

Whether voluntary or forced, Fu Qinghai would be swept into this human catastrophe and could not stay out of it—a warship carrying Space Marines crashing on Cheslatan was proof of that.

It proved that this war, where men fought like dogs, had already reached the obscure, remote colonial planet of Cheslatan.

"A-Luo, come eat." Feiyi placed a plate of purple-red, oddly shaped sliced fruit on the coffee table in front of Fu Qinghai, then sat on the carpet with her legs tucked together, mimicking him.

Fu Qinghai picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. The taste was a bit like passion fruit from his previous life on Earth, but with a faint, strange, fishy aftertaste.

Fu Qinghai suspected that Feiyi had sliced up the alien plants her parents had been cultivating for research for him to eat.

"I know what's on that ship, Feiyi," Fu Qinghai said calmly.

"What is it?" Feiyi leaned against Fu Qinghai, eating the fruit in small bites, seemingly unconcerned by the question.

"Space Marines. Do you know what Space Marines are?"

"Of course I do. I heard about them before I came here. The legendary invincible warriors, The Emperor's superhuman soldiers, the guardian gods of the Empire." Feiyi rattled off a long string of adjectives and looked at Fu Qinghai strangely. "Don't treat me like some ignorant country girl; you're the one who's a lower-hive kid."

Space Marines were a household name within the Empire. They were both the reliance for The Emperor's unification of Terra and the main force of the Great Crusade. Although they were household names, apart from the Imperial Army personnel who fought side-by-side with them, few ordinary people had actually seen a real Space Marine. The impression ordinary Imperial citizens had of them mostly remained in legend.

After all, given the Empire's massive population base and standing military, the number of Space Marines was not large; they were the elite of the elite.

Fu Qinghai ignored Feiyi's retort and continued: "I suspect that the Space Marines on that ship are fighting each other."

"Oh?" Feiyi finally became interested. "Why would they fight each other? Did Calvin tell you that?"

"Calvin didn't say anything; I deduced it from his words." Fu Qinghai pursed his lips and said, "Calvin is in a terrible state of mind right now. He is very passive. He has likely never seen two squads of Space Marines fighting to the death before, and this incident has had a huge impact on him. He hasn't received any information from Terra or the expeditionary fleet for a long time. He can't make a judgment, so he has decided to leave the fate of the colonial outpost to the victor of the battle."

"Whoever the victor may be."

"Then how did you judge that, A-Luo?" Feiyi turned to hold Fu Qinghai's arm, her pair of bright blue eyes fixed on him.

For some reason, even though the colony administrator—who possessed the most information and knowledge—could not make a decision, Feiyi trusted Fu Qinghai, a poor kid from the lower levels of the hive city, with an inexplicable sense of faith.

"I don't know either," Fu Qinghai took a deep breath, "but I've decided to go see the crash site."

"Huh? Don't go! Why would you want to go? Didn't you see what happened to Cedric and his group?" Feiyi grew anxious at his words, reaching out to touch Fu Qinghai's forehead as she spoke.

Fu Qinghai brushed her hand away and said, "I know, but I still have to go. I need to find out exactly what happened. I can't just hand my fate over to others, sitting at home praying and leaving it to destiny."

The superstitious religions like the Lectitio Divinitatus, which were already quietly circulating within the expeditionary fleet, had not yet reached this remote colonial outpost. Even if Fu Qinghai truly wanted to pray now, he wouldn't be able to find the tools or the object of his devotion.

"But... but I promised Mom and Dad that I would keep you safe!" Feiyi was truly worried, her large eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

It wasn't even certain who was protecting whom... Fu Qinghai was speechless. He took Feiyi's small hand and said, "I also promised your parents I'd protect you, and that doesn't contradict this. The galaxy is cruel, Feiyi. If I don't find a way to pursue greater power, how can I protect myself or you? By relying on you to stand in front of me time and time again?"

Faced with Fu Qinghai's question, Feiyi was left speechless. She wasn't a delicate little princess raised in a greenhouse; even living in the middle levels of the Levant hive city, she still understood the cruelty of this universe.

They couldn't spend their whole lives living a carefree existence in this tiny colonial outpost.

"Besides, a small-scale battle shouldn't last this long. A winner should have been decided by now. Why hasn't anyone come from the colony? There might be other complications on the ship," Fu Qinghai analyzed.

"I can't draw a conclusion on the specifics, but we can go and see for ourselves." Fu Qinghai turned to look at Feiyi, his eyes firm.

The next morning, before the star had even risen, the faint light of dawn bathed the entire colonial outpost in a quiet, peaceful glow.

Fu Qinghai and Feiyi had already packed their bags and set off.

The natural scenery of the main continent of Cheslatan resembled the American West of his past life. The jet bike sped across the desolate Gobi desert, kicking up a long trail of dust behind it. The occasional weathered, earthy-yellow giant rocks and clusters of thorny shrubs were the only embellishments to the desolate landscape.

Fu Qinghai sat on the back of the jet bike, clutching Feiyi's slender waist tightly to avoid being thrown off by the bumps. The morning sun wasn't yet scorching, and both of them had their heads and faces wrapped in scarves like the desert nomads of his past life, leaving only their eyes exposed. Feiyi, who was driving, also wore a pair of amber-tinted goggles, making her look quite capable.

How to describe Fu Qinghai's current image... Lawrence of Arabia.

A long, pole-like object hung on the side of the bike; it was a shock lance, used by Feiyi's parents for wilderness exploration and currently the only weapon the two of them possessed.

Sitting in the back, Fu Qinghai couldn't help but think: this second life granted by the reincarnation world was actually quite good. Not only did he have a handsome appearance and a childhood sweetheart by his side from the start, but he also had a rare, gentle "newbie village" like the Cheslatan colonial outpost in the Warhammer 40K universe. Yet, he still had to risk his life to venture out; it was almost as if he were disregarding the good intentions of the reincarnation world.

This Levant Cyclone-V silver-gray jet bike, manufactured in the Levant hive world, had seen better days, but it was still sturdy and reliable. The engine noise was a bit loud, and the vibrations were quite noticeable. The original design had a maximum flight ceiling of 3 meters, but because the gravity on Cheslatan was higher than on Levant, and they were trying to conserve promethium fuel, the two of them only flew at a height of 1 meter above the ground, essentially skimming the surface.

This was also why Feiyi was the one driving; after all, flying at a height of one meter required dodging various obstacles on the ground, the bike was fast, and Feiyi was more familiar with it. Besides, Fu Qinghai hadn't held a motorcycle license in his past life...

It definitely wasn't because Fu Qinghai was too cowardly to drive.

As the midday sun began to heat up the Gobi, the two found a shaded spot behind a giant rock to eat lunch before hopping back on the bike to continue their journey.

From the colonial outpost to the crash site, it would take a day and a half at the jet bike's speed.

That was assuming they were heading in the right direction.

There was no satellite navigation on the colony planet. Relying on the impressions of the outpost residents and a compass, Fu Qinghai and Feiyi corrected their course several times, gradually drawing closer to the crash site. Along the way, they saw some man-made objects scattered on the ground, which were likely parts shed by the ship.

As evening approached and the ship was still nowhere in sight, the two found a cave—a gap between two giant rocks—and decided to spend the night there.

Lighting a tin promethium lamp, Fu Qinghai and Feiyi spread out a blanket on the ground. They spent the night in silence, sleeping in their clothes.