Interlude: The Survivors (II)

As of now, the war that had suddenly descended upon Terra had been raging for eight hours.

The pillar of light that had shot skyward from the Imperial Palace had heralded its beginning, but regrettably, only a very few people could comprehend what that beam piercing the clouds truly meant.

Compared to the masses of civilians and soldiers who had heard The Emperor's address and knew that war had come to Terra, this small group was profoundly unfortunate.

They knew the full truth.

They knew when this war had begun, why it had begun, and what perils awaited them next—they knew so much, so why were they unfortunate?

The answer was simple: they did not know when it would end.

Without question, that brought them greater and deeper suffering.

Yet Fulgrim, one of those burdened by this suffering, could not help but smile as he gazed at that pillar of light.

At this moment, he stood atop a towering wall. The wind was bitingly cold, black snow whirled through the air, and the searchlights still struggled to remain lit, though more than half their light had already been devoured.

His form flickered in and out of view amidst the darkness, yet it did nothing to diminish the beauty of his smile. People could not help but raise their heads and look up. They wanted to draw something from the Phoenix's smile, but they were not seeking support or courage.

They were already resolute enough. Otherwise, they would not have been standing here now, lasguns in hand. Men and women, the elderly and young children—save for those truly incapable of fighting, everyone carried a weapon.

They had all heard the Master of Mankind's words. That was why they stood here, soldiers and civilians alike, shoulder to shoulder.

Behind them lay layer