Empire's Frontier: Undercover and Undercover

Laughter and cheers filled the activity hall outside the Monastery. Everyone was gathered there—priests of the Devout Society, monks, medical staff, frontline soldiers, and a multitude of believers. It must be said that everyone was in quite high spirits today.

Laughter and hymns echoed throughout the hall, while the scent of wine and Crimson Essence permeated the air. Everyone was singing in unison or laughing heartily; even the monks, who usually wore deadpan expressions, were smiling for once. The fervent atmosphere heightened everything in the room.

Marshall leaned against the doorway, watching the celebrations of the men and women inside. Although they seemed a bit manic, they certainly had reason to be happy. After all, with the Iron Hammer Factory taken, they were much closer to the "Great Crusade" and the "Final Redemption." So yes, everyone was happy.

He himself had nearly died in the factory battle. Mosley and his fanatical followers, while commendable in their fighting spirit and courage, clearly lacked any tactical concept. Simply put, they swarmed forward and fired wildly—likely the result of having inhaled a significant amount of Crimson Essence.

Marshall had nearly been shot by some fanatical idiot, probably because he was dressed too neatly. With his clean armor and clothes, he likely looked like an "Upper Hive heretic" to those lunatics.

Marshall sighed melancholically, crossing his arms as he looked at the golden statue of the Lord of Redemption. Suddenly, a person appeared beside him—appearing silently and abruptly.

He turned his head in surprise, then looked away again. "Where did you run off to? Vito, you missed a lot of good stuff." "Handling some issues. I hope I didn't miss too much." "It's alright. Aside from Henry's victory speech and the priests' terrible religious declarations, yeah, you didn't miss anything."

Vito smiled, watching a happy believer approach, holding a censer filled with dusty Crimson Essence. "Brothers! Come! This is the best Holy Dust we've saved for you!"

"Praise your great deeds, Brother Vito!" the man said excitedly. Vito smiled, took the censer, and looked around. "Where is Brother Mosley? Didn't he come out to say a few words?"

"No, he isn't here. I don't know where he went, and no one has seen him, but I'm sure he must be doing something important!" the believer said firmly, then handed another censer to Marshall.

The latter looked at Vito in surprise, but Vito gave a slight shrug, put the censer's smoke tube into his mouth, took a deep drag, and after a moment of silence, returned it to the believer.

The fanatical follower then smiled and handed it to Marshall, who naturally took a few puffs. The believer's eyes were bloodshot, and he laughed like a madman, taking a puff himself. "Did you hear that? The gods are satisfied! They are laughing heartily! Praising our victory!"

"Of course, of course, brother. Keep celebrating. May The Emperor guide you." Vito smiled and patted his shoulder. The believer paused, then gave a clumsy smile. "I won't disturb you big shots! May the Lord of Redemption bless you."

As the believer walked away, Vito tilted his head slightly to signal Marshall to follow. The latter nodded, and they walked out of the activity hall together.

They did not stop, however, but walked straight through the long, silent hall. The joyful sounds of celebration gradually faded into the distance, as if they were in another world. The bright lights gradually lost their color, turning into a monotonous, cold hue.

The silent Monastery corridor was empty, with only cold light streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows on one side. The light cast upon the statues, outlining the contours of the dead objects and making the place feel more like a graveyard of time.

Vito leaned against a statue of an Astra Militarum soldier holding a spear with a fluttering banner in his right hand and a lasgun in his left. The banner fluttered slowly behind him, his expression as if declaring the victory of a great war.

Unlike statues elsewhere in the Imperium, all Imperial elements on this statue had been erased. The Imperial Aquila, the Astra Militarum insignia, and the military rank had all been scrubbed away.

Marshall looked at Vito and realized something was wrong. He was no longer maintaining his signature ironic smile; his face was completely cold, just like those of the monks.

"What's wrong? Vito, what happened?" "Alright, Marshall, it's time to show our cards. I know you're an undercover agent sent by the Upper Hive. If I'm not mistaken, the High Arbiter sent you?"

Marshall froze, then frowned, looking hesitant. "What are you talking about?" "Come on. You don't act manic like them when you inhale Crimson Essence. That means you, like me, have installed filtered lungs that can filter out harmful gases. So neither of us is affected, which ensures your mind isn't influenced to become a religious lunatic like them."

"And I can tell you aren't religious at all, you barely care about The Emperor, and you don't have many desires. So yes, I know you're an undercover agent." "Plus your marksmanship—don't try to brush me off, Marshall. Your marksmanship is clearly that of a sniper, a long-range sniper. You've served and fought in open terrain for a long time. That's not an environment the Hive can provide."

Marshall frowned and slowly reached for his holster, but Vito chuckled and waved his hand slightly. "Relax, I won't report you. In fact, I'm an undercover agent too."

"What?" Marshall asked, though he still feigned composure. Vito gave an ironic smile and crossed his arms. "I'm on the side of the Imperium too. Let me tell you first: I'm not a member of some noble family from the Upper Hive, nor was I forced into exile here."

Marshall looked Vito up and down, still not moving his hand from his holster. Vito smiled and crossed his arms. "Guess a riddle. Who do you think would come all the way from the other end of the galaxy to this side, shrouded in mystery, and loves to engage in conspiracies and interfere in local affairs?"

"A traitor?" "No." "A follower of Tzeentch?" "By The Emperor, can't you think of a profession that doesn't involve getting shot?"

Marshall looked at Vito's helpless expression, then his eyes widened. He immediately moved his hand away from his holster and stood at attention.

"Inquisitor!" he said in surprise. Vito chuckled and patted his shoulder. "You guessed right this time. Let me introduce myself: I am an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos of the Inquisition. By the way, my name isn't a pseudonym. Yours?" "Neither is mine, my lord. At least, the name isn't." "Very good."

"Let's reintroduce ourselves, my friend," Vito said with a smile. Marshall nodded solemnly. "Lieutenant Marshall Cops, an officer belonging to the Victoria System Adeptus Arbites."

"You served in the Astra Militarum, right?" "Yes, my lord. Cadian 758th Regiment. I participated in the Victoria suppression campaign, then was seconded to the Adeptus Arbites."

"Suppression campaign? Was the Devout Society behind that too?" "No, my lord. It was Chaos cultists."

Vito's expression was a bit strange, but he quickly smiled and rubbed his neck. "Well, things are certainly lively around here."

As he spoke, he walked to another statue and looked up at the angel statue. "Inquisitor Hegart sent me. We received an astropathic message from Victoria, so I went undercover first."

"Did you discover anything, Inquisitor?" "Yes, very important information. So I need to meet with your superior, and as soon as possible. The sooner, the better."

The Inquisitor stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the painting on the wall—a mosaic of Imperial soldiers fighting against some great enemy of the Imperium. Although blurry and eroded by time, making it hard to see their faces, one could still make out the general scene.

"Tell the High Arbiter: a threat, a massive threat, is emerging from the other end of the galaxy. I must meet with him as soon as possible to resolve the current thorny issue."

Vito turned and looked at Marshall seriously. "Lieutenant, pass the message along as soon as possible. Understood?" "Understood, my lord."

He walked up to Marshall, then suddenly turned his head to look at the empty end of the corridor. After staring into the deep void for a while, he turned back and whispered.

"There are heretics and traitors in the upper echelons of Victoria Hive, and they hold high positions. You must keep this secret and ensure only the High Arbiter receives the message."

Marshall frowned slightly, but didn't seem surprised. "I know, my lord. We've long suspected there were traitors among the upper-class elites, but we don't know who they are yet. Did you get the information?"

"Not yet, not for the moment, but I will soon," Vito said. He patted his empty Bolter holster; he wasn't carrying a weapon. "Mosley is dead. My partner and I took care of him and extracted a lot of important content from his brain. There are some things my companions and I will handle as soon as possible; the Arbiter need not worry."

"And now, with Mosley taken care of, an important position in the Underhive Convent has opened up, and..." "You will soon be received by the upper echelons of the Devout Society and then promoted. At that time, you will be able to see their faces."

Vito smiled appreciatively, looking at the young undercover officer. "That's right. You have a bright future, kid."

Vito spoke with the tone of an elder, though he didn't look much older than Marshall. But my friend, he was an Inquisitor; usually, their lifespans were not as short as they appeared.

Especially the female Inquisitors. Of course, I seriously advise you not to ask about their age. I'm serious. You don't happen to like eating Bolter shells, do you?

Marshall smiled and nodded affirmatively. "I will notify the Arbiter as soon as possible. I'll inform you of any new developments, Inquisitor." "Very good."

Vito patted his shoulder and walked toward the end of the corridor. Marshall pondered for a moment and looked at his back. "My lord! What kind of threat are we facing?"

"A very, very f***ing big one, so hurry up!" Vito said, waving his hand as he disappeared into the gloom at the end of the corridor. Marshall was left behind, turning to look at the mural Vito had been watching. Although the mural was damaged and worn by time, there was still a line of text in High Gothic describing the name of the great war depicted in the scene.

The great victory of the Ultramarines: the Battle of Macragge.

Marshall's expression stiffened, and he took a deep breath. He looked up at the majestic Astra Militarum statue. Soon, there would be more statues erected here.

If this planet was still standing by then.