17. Shattered Statues, the Dead Return to Life (II)

Uermit has served within the Sons of the End Chapter for over half a century; if this timeline were to be quantified like that of the Ultramarines, it would be written as seventy-two years.

Even if you erase half of that time, the remaining half is enough to completely change a person.

Uermit still retains some feelings or memories of his childhood, but he is no longer the same child he once was. Training, rebirth, a long war career, and then the brutal scenes he witnessed firsthand, such as an entire planet ravaged by Xenos.

At the time, he was not yet a sergeant, but a newly recruited reconnaissance soldier, still inside the parachute and not yet landed. He was lucky; before even landing, he experienced the most brutal side of war through the parachute's observation window.

He saw vast stretches of scorched earth, mountains of corpses, and burning cities—these were the most quintessential images of war, as common as a child crying in ruins or a broken Aquila banner.

However, if he had to choose the most representative image, Uermit would definitely choose soil.

Yes, soil.

The soil, completely soaked in human blood, buried a massive amount of flesh and blood, thus becoming exceptionally fertile.

Uermit only discovered this after the parachute landed. His knowledge from books told him that, given time, this suffering planet beneath his feet would become a wonderful Agri World.

However, there are two prerequisites for this. First, they must win and reclaim this world. Second, the Xenos invading this world cannot be Orks.

Uermit and his brother worked tirelessly for forty-two days to fulfill the first condition, but the second condition had already failed to hold true from the very beginning.

After the war ended, Uermit's imagination of agriculture, wheat, and vitality vanished, leaving only a pure and primal thought in his mind.

Xenos must be killed.

In the decades that followed, this idea became a guiding principle: Xenos should be killed, traitors should die, and Daemon should be exterminated.

It is quite extreme, but the passion within it has never faded. This principle was forged from the blood and tears of ordinary people, a simple viewpoint born from a person who still possesses a ridiculous sense of justice and ability after experiencing a brutal war.

It was this that allowed Uermit to move forward to this day, surviving seventy-two years of relentless and brutal war, and finally arrive at the Soul of Night, standing before Shen.

But who is Shen?

Uermit couldn't give a concrete answer; the written records of his deeds were always pale and could never truly compare to the awe-inspiring experience of meeting him in person—just imagine, an old soldier from ten thousand years ago, a warrior who had fought valiantly on Terra.

What other honor can compare to these two achievements?

Uermit was unaware of just how excited he was at that moment.

He had been informed of this matter long ago, but that still couldn't stop him from bursting with enthusiasm for it. For this reason, Kaul Sahora had to cough lightly to remind the sergeant of something—but there were things he had forgotten.

He forgot that Shen didn't actually care about these things.

"The successor of Angron Tai?"

In the darkness, the prisoner, who had willingly been bound, spoke softly. His voice was clear and natural, and even though it wasn't loud, it was quite different from the soft whispers that the Shadow Knights were used to.

"Yes, sir!" Uermit puffed out his chest unconsciously, answering his question with enthusiasm and excitement.

Kaul silently turned his face away, and in the sergeant's face, he vaguely saw his own appearance from back then.

Realizing this made him somewhat embarrassed. Although he had served for almost two centuries, two centuries were probably not much different from ten years for Shen.

Half a second later, he caught a gaze out of the corner of his eye. Without turning around, Kaul knew that it was Shen looking at him.

"."

Silently, the Shadow Knights' Chapter Master donned his helmet and subtly took a few steps back. Uermit was completely unaware of his actions, as the swirling mist around him completely concealed him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Shen said, a response that was not what Uermit had expected. Even by ordinary standards, he showed obvious bewilderment.

Faced with this situation, Shen laughed as if he had expected it. The expression on his pale, cracked face made one wonder if it would shatter completely like a ceramic toy in the next second.

"Are you surprised?" Shen asked with a smile. "You probably thought I would act more rigidly? Or more authoritative, or at least show some distance?"

The sergeant was silent for a few seconds, then nodded with a hint of shame. He himself didn't know why he felt this way—but Kaul, who was watching from the sidelines, saw it clearly: it was because the sergeant naturally placed himself in the position of a junior.

"If the person tied up here were Jago Sevatarion, he would probably deliberately create these effects you're imagining to calm you down a bit."

"But I am different, Uermit. I am a shameful deserter who abandoned the responsibilities I had to bear years ago and instead began to wait for you in this dusty and misty place."

Uermit was stunned again; he hadn't expected to hear such an answer.

"Me? Me?" The sergeant maintained a facade of calm, though he remained puzzled. "I don't understand, what could I possibly have that would make you wait so long?"

"Compared to him, this isn't long," Shen said softly. "Besides, you are certainly worth my wait. You are one of Angron Tai's successors, and you have taken on a responsibility whose weight you yourself do not yet know the full extent of, Sergeant."

He tilted his head back, and two flames suddenly ignited in his dark, charred eye sockets, which resembled crimson Embers. The dust that had been rising up around him was blown away by a sudden breeze.

Uermit suddenly felt a sharp pain between his eyebrows, and he immediately realized that it was because of Shen's gaze.

"A mark of loyalty?" the sergeant asked, confused and nervous. "I don't understand, sir. It's just a tradition of ours."

"Yes, I know. Every Sons of the End is given this mark the moment they don their armor. Within your Chapter, it represents the loyalty of the Word Bearers, led by Angron Tai, and is an honor personally defined by Sanguinius."

"Although you no longer mention this history, it remains an integral part of your tradition. At least, I believe that's the official narrative, right?"

The sergeant's expression gradually changed from confusion to solemnity. He glanced at the silent Kaul, who did not react at all, and even his body language was hidden under his black cloak.

Helpless, he could only take a deep breath and speak seriously.

"What exactly are you trying to say? If you're just trying to suggest that the Word Bearers might be involved in this operation, I'm already prepared. We've fought them for ten thousand years, and one day, we will reclaim our name."

Shen smiled again, then asked, "Why?"

The sergeant frowned, puzzled. At the same time, Kaul finally cast a glance his way. His eyes, hidden behind his visor, were full of pity.

"Why do you want to reclaim a name that belongs to a traitor?" Shen asked.

The sergeant opened his mouth, wanting to answer, but had no idea how to reply. It was puzzling. But he had never actually thought about that question before.

"This title and its meaning have been completely stigmatized. To this day, ordinary people do not know its meaning, and those who do know it Word Bearers such sentiments as the most despicable traitors."

"As for you, Sergeant, you must be Sons of the Void born on a ship belonging to the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar. Lord Roboute Guilliman has always valued history, and he will never hide the destruction of Calth and the tragedy of Macragge."

"So you must know this history, you know what the Word Bearers did—now, answer me, have you never had any doubts? Why did Angron Tey leave such a statement at the last moment of his life?"

The sergeant clenched his fists involuntarily, but Shen stopped speaking. He looked at Uermit calmly, and although he was the one who was bound, he easily gained an undeniable advantage.

The other two people present had no objection to this; however, they were unaware that Shen had not always been this kind of person.

Why, sir?

After a long silence, the sergeant finally spoke.

His voice sounded dry and very unnatural; who would have thought this was the voice of a seasoned Astartes?

But that was the truth; the sergeant's voice was not only hoarse, but he also showed signs of trembling.

His heavy armor, inherited from some ancient warrior, helped to conceal some of his features, but since he wasn't wearing a helmet, the subtle twitches of his facial muscles couldn't escape Shen's notice.

"I was there when Angron Tei took his last breath. That last sentence was actually only the second half of his statement."

Shen narrowed his eyes very clearly as he uttered the sentence in its entirety.

"In the name of Aurelian, one day we will reclaim our name."

For a long time, the sergeant remained silent, his emotions completely exposed on his face, without any concealment, like a turbulent storm.

The Sons of the End Chapter and the Word Bearers fought a genuine war for ten thousand years, leaving their mark across the galaxy. During those ten thousand years, they fought many brilliant battles, but also faced annihilation at one point.

Despite its long history, the Sons of the End have never lost their original traditions, unlike other Chapter that survived the catastrophe.

All of this is thanks to the hermit Hemet Lacrus.

Over the course of ten thousand years, he diligently recorded every single event experienced by the Sons of the End. There may have been some deletions and alterations, but he never concealed them. Instead, he preserved those revised records in the archives on the flagship "Horn of Light".

The sergeant hadn't seen the altered records, but he still knew who Lorgar Aurelian was.

He knew it from the beginning.

Lorgar Aurelian is their Gene-Father, their shame, and a sinful past they cannot speak of to anyone.

Every new recruit of the Sons of the End is informed of this before undergoing the modification surgery: the betrayal of Lorgar and the arduous struggle of the loyalists within the Word Bearers.

This heavy and terrible history has Legacy completely by generation after generation of the Sons of the End, and openly told to every child who might join them, allowing them to make their own free choice.

Will you bear the weight of this sinful blood and struggle onward, fighting to the last for the Emperor, humanity, and the Imperium? Or will you choose to refuse?

If the latter option is chosen, the children will not face any punishment; the Sons of the End will simply ask the Librarian to erase their memories of the incident and then send them to the Ultramarines' training grounds.

They can now recruit soldiers all over the galaxy, but if possible, they will still choose to continue an ancient tradition within the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar.

Roboute Guilliman personally issued this order, and it is now regarded as an unbreakable bond between the Sons of the End and the Ultramarines.

The sergeant is one piece of evidence of this connection; if we delve deeper, he could even be considered of noble birth—he was born on the Macragge's Honour, where Roboute Guilliman was even on board, and the sergeant chose to join.

He couldn't explain the reasons in detail; he was only fourteen years old at the time and couldn't articulate any profound truths. Perhaps it was the expectant look in the eyes of the instructor who trained him, or perhaps it was the mysterious and enigmatic call of the God-Emperor?

The sergeant took a deep breath, his mind in turmoil. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but couldn't utter a single word. Only silence lingered between his lips and teeth, turning into slowly dissipating white mist.

"Is it painful?" Shen asked calmly. "I suddenly realized that the biggest secret the Chapter had always kept from others actually concealed another twist."

The sergeant nodded silently.

Shen smiled slightly, then turned to Kaul and asked, "Is the ceremony ready?"

"It was prepared from the beginning," the current Chapter Master of the Shadow Knights replied in a low voice. "The Librarian arranged the ceremony venue three days in advance. We can begin at any time, as long as—"

He looked at the sergeant.

"--As long as Sergeant Uermit is ready," Shen continued.

The sergeant's heart skipped a beat, and he began to look back and forth between Shen and Kaul, appearing completely bewildered. He didn't yet know what he was about to face, but that didn't matter. Because all the questions would be fully answered within the next ninety-two Terra hours.

The Soul of Night was approaching Litatera; in three Terra, they would see the massive warship burning in Litatera's near-Earth orbit.

Shen Hui immediately recognized it as the infamous Abyss-class warship "Furious Abyss." He also noticed that it had not raised its Void Shield and was merely passively enduring attacks from the Litatera Orbital Defense Platform.

They will continue to approach, and when that time comes, they will discover the truth.

"Yes, when that time comes, they will discover the truth," a strange voice said in the darkness.

It chuckled softly and tiptoed toward a burning star.

It summoned the Chaos energy gathered there with its slender fingers and began patiently constructing a gap large enough for it to pass through. A strange smile grinned from its hairy head, its eyes filled with anticipation.

Its name is Samus, and it made a promise to Shen ten thousand years ago to grant him a heroic death.