The Imperium's Frontier: Past Glories

The Bolter spat out lethal fire, the shells tearing through the air with a piercing roar before striking their target; the unfortunate Purestrain Genestealer had its entire upper torso obliterated by a single shot.

The Chainaxe roared, severing limbs and flesh one after another. The entire underground corridor was littered with corpses, and the grey and dark brown walls were now almost entirely painted blood-red. The artist of slaughter was using fresh blood to compose a portrait of death.

A Purestrain Genestealer crashed to the ground. The giant holding a Bolter beside it turned and killed another Genestealer mid-leap with a single shot. The spraying magenta blood splashed onto his winged helmet, staining the black feathers with a dull, sanguine hue. The Astartes did not pause, immediately swinging his Power Sword to bisect another Genestealer in one fluid motion.

The Dark Angels Space Marine stood amidst the shattered corpses. He raised his arm and, without even looking, blew apart a creature attempting to ambush him. His Plasma Gun dropped to the ground, hitting an oil drum on the side and triggering a chain reaction of explosions, yet the Dark Angel did not even glance at the blast.

The light of the flames illuminated his helmet. He tilted his head slightly to look at the Fenrisian wolf walking over from the side. Ragnar carried his Chainaxe, firing as he walked, unhurried and precise; every one of his shots accurately claimed an enemy.

Compared to the panic, fear, and impatience of their enemies, the two Astartes were remarkably calm. They neither dodged nor made any grand movements, simply standing there, aiming and firing shot by shot. Every pull of the trigger sent a spray of gore flying, yet the enemy's firepower couldn't even scratch the paint on their power armor.

"Why are we here cleaning up this trash?" Ragnar complained, aiming and firing shot after shot. Beside him, Lancelot shrugged slightly, his finger continuously pulling the trigger as the dazzling muzzle flashes cast a sheen across their helmets.

"Didn't you keep complaining about being bored and wanting a fight? Well, here it is." "Like hell it is. What's the point of these things? This is just a one-sided slaughter. Where's the honor in that?"

"I must remind you, Ragnar, that what we do is an extension of The Emperor's will, a duty and responsibility to the entire Imperium. That is what matters most, not your honor."

Bell's voice came through the comms, mixed with the sounds of gunfire and screams. Judging by Bell's flat tone, it was nothing of consequence—as easy for them as going for a stroll and killing a Gretchin along the way.

"Fine, Bell, you're always so boring. Speaking of which, why didn't Vito come down to practice his shooting?" "Well, based on my understanding of him, he's probably either bullshitting with the local bureaucrats or engaged in some 'in-depth' communication with the new female Governor in bed."

"Ah, then it must be the latter. You're very familiar with his routine, aren't you, Lancelot?" "No kidding. How many years have we been with him? Does anyone even remember?"

The two stood together, firing lazily but accurately, chatting as if they were merely target practicing at a range.

Ragnar tilted his head slightly, pulling the trigger to blow apart a fleeing enemy. "Shit, forgot. Damn, we seem to have been with him for so long—so long I've forgotten." "I've even forgotten how old I am."

"We are Astartes, Ragnar. Time itself has no meaning for us. Once you pass twenty years, humans lose the concept of time, let alone us, having lived for over a century." Bell's voice replied. There seemed to be the roar of a heavy bolter on his end, but it quickly returned to silence.

Ragnar shrugged slightly. Indeed, time meant nothing to them. The aging process of an Astartes was incredibly slow, and years of war and training had long since made them forget the passage of time. It was precisely this that had birthed the most efficient killing machines of the current Imperium.

"But I feel like it's been at least a dozen years, right?" Lancelot said, killing enemies shot by shot. "Oh, right, speaking of which, Ragnar, I recall your Chapter has a terrible relationship with the Inquisition. How do you get along so well with Vito?"

The Space Wolves warrior tilted his head, peering through his sights to shoot a Devout Society sniper from a great distance. Although the sniper's rifle couldn't even scratch Ragnar's hide, the man had clearly become another pastime for Ragnar's boredom.

"You're talking about the Month of Shame, right?" "Month of Shame? What the hell is that?" "Ah, that was the First War for Armageddon. Our Chapter, along with the Armageddonites, the Inquisition, and the Grey Knights, smashed fifty thousand World Eaters and a sea of Khorne's daemonic army, shoving the Daemon Primarch right back into the Warp."

"It was a glorious campaign. Thousands of mortals fought side-by-side with us, overcoming the horrors of the Warp. But afterward, the Inquisition prepared to execute all those mortal soldiers, claiming they were surely tainted by the Warp for having fought a Daemon Primarch and thus had to be purged. That pissed off our Wolf Lord, Logan, so we ended up fighting the Inquisition."

"We covered the evacuation of those mortal troops and civilians from the system and engaged in fierce combat with the Inquisition fleet. Every Inquisitorial force present was either crippled or annihilated. That made the Grey Knights and the Inquisition furious, so they brought a massive army to Fenris to pick a fight, demanding we go on some penitent crusade."

"After that, it was just a brawl. I remember old Bjorn himself stepped out to convince Wolf Lord Logan to cease fire and negotiate with the Inquisition. That settled it, but we truly do dislike the Inquisition and the Grey Knights."

"So, can you explain how you manage to hang out with Vito every day, getting teased and ordered around by him, without putting an axe through his skull?"

Ragnar raised his axe and cleaved a Purestrain in two. He tapped his helmet with the axe as if deep in thought, then shrugged. "I don't know. I just like the guy. Can't explain why. He's different from the rest of the Inquisition, isn't he? We've been with him for years and haven't seen him kill randomly or drop an Exterminatus on a world."

"Vito doesn't like slaughter. Even I know that if he kills, there's a reason for it, and it prevents greater casualties. He isn't arrogant like those other Inquisitors. So yes, I like him—or rather, he doesn't seem like an Inquisitor at all."

Indeed, Vito was more like a dashing ranger, wandering the universe, his style of conduct incredibly casual and laid-back. In a way, he was very similar to Ragnar; both were classic examples of men who treated rules and discipline as waste paper and acted according to their own methods. Perhaps they appreciated each other for that?

"But I remember the Wolf Lord quite likes him. He's been to Fenris a few times, and the Chapter veterans treat him with great respect, though I've forgotten why."

"Because Vito also participated in the Month of Shame," the voice of old Olaf came over the comms, his deep, resonant tone as reliable and solid as ever.

"Back on Armageddon, after we wiped out the Inquisition fleet, a fleet led by Vito suddenly appeared and surrounded us. By then, our ammunition was spent from fighting the Orks and the Inquisition, and our battle-brothers were exhausted from the fight with the Grey Knights. Vito could have easily hunted us down."

"But he didn't. Vito opened a shipping lane for us to leave and warned us not to send those refugees to any planet, but to bring them back to Fenris. Sadly, we couldn't house so many, so we sent them to planets willing to accept them."

"In the end, those planets were all attacked by the Inquisition. The refugees were executed, and some planets were even subjected to Exterminatus to perform so-called 'purification.' But I heard Vito saved a few planets and used some method to 'erase' those refugees on paper."

As Olaf spoke, a loud crash came through, as if he had crushed something, followed by the sound of him smashing something else with a fist.

"Later on Fenris, it was he and Bjorn who convinced the Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights and Logan to withdraw and cease fire. Afterward, he ran everywhere, convincing the furious Inquisition Lords to abandon the punitive war."

"I was there. Bjorn asked him why he helped us, why he would turn against his own colleagues. Vito told the Wolf Lord:"

"'People have forgotten why the Imperium was built, but someone must remember. Hope once existed in this galaxy, too.'"

"Bjorn was silent for a long time after hearing that, then led us in taking an oath: even if the stars fall and the heavens shift, the sons of Leman Russ will always welcome his arrival and provide him with all aid."

As the old wolf spoke, static crackled over the comms, followed by an explosion, and then all fell silent.

Ragnar chuckled and tapped his helmet with his axe. "I knew that guy was a badass. Isn't that way better than those lunatics?" He said, shooting another unfortunate soul.

"Indeed. Vito has a great relationship with our Chapter, too. I was once dispatched to join a force to participate in a war against the Orks, but halfway there, Asmodai seized command from our sergeant through a mix of intimidation and coercion, dragging us off to chase rumors of some 'Excellent Warrior.' It left the Silver Skulls, who were fighting alongside us, flanked and suffering heavy losses."

"Damn, you guys really have no honor," Ragnar scoffed. For once, Lancelot didn't retort, merely shrugging slightly before swinging his sword to cut down an enemy at close range.

"Asmodai is just that crazy, even among the lunatics of the First, Second, and Chaplain companies. He was howling and dragging us to find the militia camp fighting the Orks, where we found that 'Excellent Warrior'—Vito. He was leading the local militia against the Orks."

"Asmodai asked him a bunch of crazy questions, and Vito somehow miraculously convinced Asmodai to fight the Orks with him first. And the latter actually listened! I swear, that was a galactic-level miracle! That lunatic doesn't even listen to Chapter Master Azrael."

"Later, Vito brought the battered and furious Silver Skulls Chapter Master to Caliban to demand an explanation. I still don't know how he convinced the Chapter Master to accept Azrael's apology. The matter wasn't pursued further, and our two Chapters didn't become mortal enemies because of it."

"Just like your Chapter, Chapter Master Azrael also respects and is grateful to him. He even helped him resolve a few wars later. I remember something about fighting the traitorous Alpha Legion? Though it was the Ravenwing and Deathwing who went, following Vito."

Wow, one had to admit Vito's eloquence was top-tier. Or perhaps... he had other ways? Like sharing little secrets or trading favors? It was his usual trick, but it seemed to work on everyone.

Ragnar laughed, inserting a new Bolter magazine into his gun. "Yeah, that's why he's better than those idiots who only know how to howl, screaming about killing here and dropping Exterminatus there."

"Lancelot, Ragnar, Old Wolf and I have driven the rest of them toward your direction. Prepare for the hunt," Bell's voice said, and the roar of his Bolter could already be heard by the two.

Ragnar stretched his arms, then strode over to a heavy bolter. He kicked the corpse lying on it away, hoisted the heavy weapon, and walked to the gate.

Lancelot also raised his Bolter toward the gate. Soon, a large group of xenos enemies appeared, fleeing in panic toward this direction. They were so focused on the hunters behind them that they ignored what was in front. By the time the first one in the line noticed the two giants, it was already too late.

Ragnar pulled the trigger. The storm-like roar of the Bolter, accompanied by a rain of shells, descended upon the enemy crowd. Flesh and debris began to splatter everywhere, and a rain of blood poured both inside and outside the gate.

As the final round of the Bolter belt was spent, the weapon of death finally fell silent, settling into stillness amidst wisps of curling smoke.

Ragnar tossed the Bolter aside and watched his two brothers emerge from the doorway. They had walked through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood; the four giants stood before the gate, surrounded by the remains of countless xenos and heretics.

Before any of the four could speak, their communicators chimed, and Cole's voice echoed inside every helmet.

"Everyone, return to the surface."

It had to be said that the bed in the Governor's Palace was large and incredibly comfortable. The high-hanging Roman curtains draped on all sides, and the plush, velvet-lined quilt was warm and cozy—truly the kind of luxury only found in the Governor's Palace.

Vito leaned back against the pillows, sinking deep into their softness, feeling relaxed and at ease. His arm was draped over the bare shoulder of Olivia, who rested against his chest beneath the covers, her slender fingers resting lightly upon his heart.

Vito looked down at the beauty in his arms and offered a faint smile. He let out a relaxed sigh, rested his head back against the pillow, and closed his eyes, seemingly savoring the tranquility of the moment.

No one would disturb Vito and this beauty now; the servants had been ordered not to interrupt unless it was something of vital importance—well, at least that had been the case until just a moment ago.

The communicator on the nightstand began to beep incessantly. Olivia opened her hazy eyes and sat up, looking toward the nightstand as her long, loose hair cascaded over her shoulders.

Vito sighed, reached out to grab the communicator, and switched it on. "Cole, I hope you have a truly significant reason for interrupting me."

"The Ultramarines have arrived. Third Captain Caelus Fabian is here with five Space Marine companies. Put your clothes on immediately and get to the landing pad to wait for me."

The line went dead. Vito chuckled, amused; it seemed Cole knew exactly what he was doing. He rubbed his temples and looked at the surprised Olivia beside him.

"The Emperor protects."