Eternal Winter (I)

"This cold wind seems to have no end. ♠♟ 🍩😂" Lucius said.

His voice sounded strange, not as natural as before. If anyone were to ask why, it could only be attributed to his missing jaw. The brass jaw lacked bionic mechanisms and could not assist him in producing sound.

The culprit was a Daemon lurking in the shadows; it ambushed Lucius, and if he hadn't reacted quickly, he would likely have lost more than just his jaw and half his tongue.

Sol Tavetz nodded slightly in agreement with his words.

He leaned against the wall, sitting comfortably beside a weapon rack, intently sharpening a combat dagger. The room seemed somewhat empty; the others were being questioned by the Departmento Munitorum.

This was a mandatory rule, and no one could escape it. Even Fulgrim himself had to spend a morning recounting his experiences, though of course, the written accounts were never properly filed.

The Emperor's Children would probably be surprised if they were to be archived.

"Terra shouldn't be experiencing winds like this." Lucius, gazing intently out the window, continued to express his thoughts. "Everyone knows what the natural environment of the Throne World is like."

"At least it still snows," Tavitz said without looking up. "At least it has seasonal changes, Lucius. Snow, wind, rain—so what if there's no spring or summer? You're overthinking things."

"Unnecessary?!" Lucius whirled around, demanding sharply. "No doubt is superfluous, Sol Tavitz! Every rustle of wind indicates that damned Chaos is lurking!"

Tavitz finally looked up at him. He shook his head, casually put down the knife in his hand, took out another one, and began to sharpen it intently.

"I will not tolerate any form of carelessness," Lucius said somberly.

His tone had become calm, but it still sounded dangerous, and his face, covered in names, looked extremely ominous in the flickering firelight.

"In any form, Tavitz, do you understand? Even if this is Terra, I'm going to report my thoughts to Commander Vespasian right now."

"Why not just go directly to the Primarch?" Tavitz asked, head bowed. "Don't tell me you're going to wait for Vespasian finish his questioning at the Departmento Munitorum entrance."

"Report through each level, never bypass a superior," Lucius said matter-of-factly. "This is military discipline, and the Emperor's Children will never violate it."

He finished speaking and strode out of the room, leaving Tavitz alone. The wooden door closed, and Sol Tavitz sighed, raised his dagger, and stared into his own eyes through its reflection.

Everyone has been changed. After going through such a hellish journey, no one dares to say that they are still the same as before.💙♞ . cOpaw 🐙☟

Lucius became a stubborn man, extremely wary of everything, while Akurduana became cruel. He used to wield his sword without doing anything unnecessary, but now he preferred to unleash uncontrollable rage when dealing with his enemies.

And himself.

Sol Tavitz stood up.

What did he look like then?

He slowly approached the door, timed it perfectly, and opened it. He saw two servants dressed in brown robes and even hoods. The guard who should have been at the corner of the corridor was nowhere to be seen.

Tavits held a sharp knife, calmly waiting for them to speak.

One of them looked up at him, extended his right hand from inside his robe, and handed him a parchment scroll that still smelled of ink.

Aside from the Aquila that represents the Imperium, Tavitz also saw an emblem that was completely unfamiliar to him.

A capital I, followed by three horizontal lines of varying lengths, running through it and connecting a skull to the letter itself.

Tavits lowered his fighting dagger and sheathed it.

He calmly asked, "Who are you?"

The servant who handed over the parchment scroll did not answer, but his companion removed his hood, opened his mouth, and let out a few hoarse sobs.

"Dumb?" The Emperor's Children frowned. "Born mute?"

The man shook his head, the mysterious tattoo between his brows gleaming. He gestured in sign language, and Tavitz easily understood—he remained silent for a few seconds, then reached for the parchment scroll and began to read it carefully.

He quickly grasped the writer's true intentions hidden within the convoluted written language, and then he drew his conclusions.

This is an invitation.

To be more precise, this was a personal invitation extended by the Sigillites, Malcador.

But why me?

Tavitz frowned, pondered for a long time, and finally handed the parchment back—he didn't understand why Malcador had suddenly extended an invitation to him, but he didn't need a reason to refuse.

The two attendants clearly disagreed; they looked at him, and the attendant who had removed his hood gestured again.

"No," Tavitz said. "Please make sure to tell the Sigillites that I cannot accept such a vague invitation. My legion needs me now, and I cannot leave at this time."

The man visibly sighed, then reached into his robes and pulled out a dark gray device. He held it out with both hands and presented it to Sol Tavitz, at which point a voice slowly emanated from it.

"Accept the invitation, Sol. ♡👽 🍬🍬," said Fulgrim. "It's important, accept it, okay?"

The Emperor's Children stared wide-eyed in silence, feeling an even deeper sense of doubt. Four hours later, his doubts were finally resolved. By then, he had left the residence assigned to the Emperor's Children and arrived at a hidden underground facility.

The air was filled with a strange smell, as if something was burning deep underground. There were many people here; he had only been in the facility for about ten minutes, and he had already seen at least three different groups pass by him.

He saw civilians, soldiers, or secretive individuals completely cloaked. He even spotted a considerable number of red priests.

The two attendants who led the way showed no intention of explaining; their steps were extremely steady, clearly indicating professional training.

Tavitz observed everything expressionlessly, taking in every detail. For example, the bluish-gray walls covered with energy transmission pipes, or the giant Cogitator that seemed to have been casually placed everywhere.

The ground material was not rock, but a complex alloy. Tavitz was not a highly skilled blacksmith, but he had intermittently handcrafted many weapons, and this alloy was unlike any he had ever seen before.

But these are just the surface. What truly piqued his curiosity about this place were the ubiquitous detectors and alarms, one every five meters, installed regardless of cost in every place where humans might or might not pass by.

He even saw Autocannon, which were not hidden but were placed openly along some of the main roads.

Everywhere you look, there are guards armed with sophisticated weapons, and sentries hidden in the shadows. Even if an Astartes army wanted to launch a full-scale attack, it would probably have to pay a heavy price.

After all, who knows what else might be hidden here?

As he pondered these matters, Tavitz maintained a necessary silence, while also realizing something more important—in a sense, Malcador's willingness to let him in essentially represented a form of trust.

But where does this trust come from?

They continued forward, deeper underground, until they passed through the twenty-fifth heavy, armed gate, where the two servants finally stopped. They turned, bowed to Tavitz, and then disappeared into the darkness.

The world that appeared before him now was no longer the same as before. The creations of the civilized world had disappeared. It was rough and primitive, and the walls were even just unpolished raw rocks.

The space is vast, yet there are no instruments or equipment, as if it were a naturally formed cave, merely a unique decoration, and not even necessary to be used.

The only light here was the glow emanating from the Aquila scepter in the hand of a short old man. It flickered on the walls, blurring and unsettling the silhouettes of people.

Tavitz knew who he was. He slowly approached, bowed, and greeted him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Company Commander Sol Tavitz," said the Sigillites, his eyes gleaming beneath his hood.

This caused a secret unease in the Emperor's Children — Malcador was using psionic energy, but the question that had been asked many times today once again surfaced in his mind.

Why?

"Company Commander Tavitz, did you see any pilgrims on your way here?" Malcador didn't give him more time to think and suddenly threw out a question.

"What do you mean by that?" Tavitz asked cautiously. "They're everywhere, Your Sigillites."

"Just asking a couple of questions," Malcador said noncommittally, shaking his head. "Terra has been entering winter for the past month, and these unusual winds have exacerbated the effects of the low temperatures."

"If the temperature continues to drop like this, many pilgrims may lose their lives. Clothing is not enough to keep out the cold."

"Can't we arrange for them to go to refuge? At least to get through the winter?" Tavitz picked up where Malcador left off, though he was only trying to keep the conversation going, his frown was genuine.

Malcador sighed.

"This winter isn't over, Company Commander Tavitz," he said softly. "Soon, it'll snow in Terra. Then the weather will get worse and worse, because the snow, like the wind, won't stop."

"The blizzard will destroy those pilgrims sleeping in the wilderness; their bodies will freeze in the cold, the ground will be frozen solid, and you know them—they see asceticism as a devotion to the gods. Even if shelters are built, few of them will be willing to enter."

Sol Tavitz inevitably fell silent for a while, compelled by the implication in Malcador's words. What did he mean by winter not passing and snow not stopping? Did the Sigillites not believe they could survive this calamity?

A dark anger finally appeared between his brows.

"Then force them in," Tavitz said. "It's far better to be forced to lose a part of your faith and piety than to lose your life."

"You can force people to do things they don't want to do, but what about wind and snow?" the Sigillites asked. "How do you change the natural environment?"

"I don't believe winter will last forever," Tavitz replied gruffly. "Just as I don't believe we will be defeated, Sigillites, I don't know—"

"--Who said we would be defeated?" Malcador interrupted him, asking with a hint of surprise.

Although his emotions seemed genuine, Tavitz couldn't figure out if it was just a facade by the Sigillites. He remained confused and didn't hide his feelings.

Malcador glanced at him, then suddenly uttered a sentence with a tone of sudden realization. "Ah, I understand."

"What? I demand an explanation from you, Lord Sigillites," Tavitz said, slightly displeased.

The Sigillites shook his head, and slowly raised the Aquila Scepter, then slammed it heavily onto the ground. The sound of the strike was incredibly crisp, and began to echo within the rock wall. A bright flame suddenly ignited, dispelling all the darkness.

Tavitz turned his head and saw a group of people wearing black cloaks looking down at them from above. The rock wall, which had been empty, suddenly had a second floor that had been carved out by man.

They were of varying heights and builds, some ordinary, some enormous; some carried weapons, others carried nothing. Tavec even noticed one man wearing a lightning bolt medallion over his cloak. No one else wore it like that; only he wore it so proudly on his chest.

"What does this mean?" Tavitz asked in a low voice, turning around.

"They're evaluating you," Malcador replied calmly.

An anger rose within Tavitz, but he remained calm and chose to observe the situation. The Sigillites strode past him, his robes trailing softly on the ground.

He walked all the way to the front door before stopping. Tavits stood there, warily returning the cold stares of those looking down at him, until Malcador spoke up.

"Then—" The Sigillites touched the ground with his scepter again, and the ground began to change. Intricate patterns suddenly appeared and were engraved on the gray rocks. There were many changes, the most profound of which were found where Tavitz stood.

But instead of patterns, a pool of water replaced the ground beneath his feet, icy cold and reaching up to Tavitz's chest. Even for Astartes, it was too cold, yet the Emperor's Children did not leave it.

He vaguely heard some silent whispers, many of which sounded very familiar.

"-- State your answers," the Sigillites declared authoritatively.

There's more.

To clarify, the Terra timeline is currently in the early stages of the Battle of Calth. All the interludes I used during the Terra chapter title run chronologically; in other words, they were originally chapters within Terra. Why separate them? Because I realized that if I didn't, the total number following Terra might be (seventy), or even (eighty).

The Battle of Terra will be a very long story, the biggest climax in the middle of the book. I will do my best to include all the participating factions, which I think is very necessary, but the reading experience might not be the best. So if some readers want to wait, I understand. As for those readers who are still willing to follow, I can only reward them with a lot of updates!

Okay, that's all for now. I'll have a meal and then come back to write the second chapter. I expect to write around 15,000 words today.