Interlude: Aboard the Edge of Reason (III)

What kind of organization is Inquisition?

This is not hard to explain; in the official definition, the Inquisition is "the Eyes of the Emperor," "the embodiment of the Emperor's wrath," and "the spokesperson for justice."

Stripped of these fancy terms, they were actually only responsible for investigating and dealing with anything that might pose a threat to humanity and the Imperium —potential threats, of course, were included.

Therefore, in addition to Chaos, Xenos, and traitors, they also need to deal with internal threats such as corruption, depravity, and disloyalty.

This means that their authority has no limits. A formally recognized Inquisitor can mobilize any resource within the Imperium, whether human or material.

From Adeptus Arbites enforcement officers to an Imperial Guard legion, or even an entire Space Marine Chapter —whenever they issue an order, it means that people must respond, whether by refusing or accepting.

However, this is only the official statement, and the real situation is much more complicated.

In the eyes of officials, the Inquisition was an organization that exceeded the boundaries of power, something that should not exist at all.

This organization does not have a typical hierarchical system; an Inquisitor can become a full Inquisitor directly after completing his apprenticeship, thus wielding an astonishing amount of power.

They can command or Judgment anyone, from High Lord to a beggar, from a soldier in the guard or navy to a fellow soldier in a Chapter.

This unchecked power makes them very unpopular with various bureaucratic departments. Even investigators in the Adeptus Arbites usually don't particularly want to deal with them.

Even if the vast majority of the accusations prove to be true, nothing changes—nobody's going to be friendly to someone who adds to their workload or even puts their life in danger, is that right?

In the eyes of the nobles, the Inquisition was equally unpopular. They didn't want to be inspected every twenty-five years, and they disliked encountering a stranger who showed them no respect and issued one order after another.

However, while some people dislike them because they feel insulted and believe their glorious lineage and numerous achievements should not be questioned in this way, others feel differently.

Before these endless routine checks arrive, there are always people working in the shadows, trying to circumvent the scrutiny in various ways.

They either kill the Inquisitor on the way, or they simply incite an entire planet or sector to rebel—this is not uncommon, as some people always think they can escape punishment.

As for ordinary people—generally speaking, they rarely have the opportunity to see an Inquisitor in their lifetime, so they have little real connection to the institution.

Unless, by sheer coincidence, their world has a governor who doesn't particularly like the Inquisition, and, just as luck would have it, this governor also has a writer under his command who is exceptionally skilled in writing and knows how to stir people's emotions.

By then, amidst a deluge of books detailing the horrific atrocities committed by the Inquisition, even the general public will come to loathe and hate them.

This example actually happened, and the outcome wasn't good.

The governor who attempted to resist was executed, as were his family, and his world was burned. The writer's true identity was revealed during the arrest, and he joined the enraged populace in unleashing a terrifying demonic tide on the Hive City, directly threatening the entire sector.

Finally, it was banished, and that sector is now known as Jericho, located in the Storm Sector, where most worlds have been classified as Death World.

But this is not the end, because somehow the book was lost, and to this day, copies, manuscripts, or scattered pages still wander in the galaxy.

So, back to the main point, can Inquisition really order or Judgment anyone?

That's not the case. They do possess this power, but they would never abuse it.

This is not just empty talk, not like the oaths of corrupt nobles such as "I will always be loyal to the Emperor and protect my people." It is not such a ridiculous thing, but a real and tangible commitment.

Its binding force stems from two vows, and also from their souls.

When an Inquisitor confirms that his apprentices are ready to graduate, and if they are not dead, these apprentices are taken together to Fortress 002 in the Sol System. The Sigillites will wait there to personally witness each Inquisitor swear an oath.

This is why Karyl felt unusually calm at this moment.

He wasn't angry; this rare emotion for him didn't disturb his thoughts, because he knew Malcador's abilities.

The phrase "personally selected by the Sigillites" still carries considerable weight today; the Silent Guards he chose even earned the respect of the Adeptus Custodes —and this raises the question: why strip a soldier of his honor?

Where is the answer?

He looked at Haide, at this strange man he had met on Banjo-1.

He recalled their first meeting; back then, Haide was dressed like a down-on-his-luck sailor, but only in tattered clothes, not the filthy mess often seen on sailors. His face was the same, proving that he was a person with basic self-control.

At the very least, he was someone who wanted to live a good life. People who have lost hope in the world don't clean themselves up, and that was the first thing that interested Karyl in him.

Secondly, there was his reaction. Upon seeing Karyl's dark eyes, the retired soldier quickly adapted by pretending to be a drunkard who couldn't walk properly, intending to make a quick getaway.

This may not be the most ingenious approach, but it's more than enough for the average person.

Today, Nostramo has become a forbidden zone to some extent, and the Nostramo people are even more so. It's impossible for Haide to find any information about the Nostramo people or the Black Eyes anywhere.

So, he simply didn't want to be associated with someone who might have a genetic mutation.

Ordinary civilians wouldn't have such thoughts; there are already enough mutated beings in the Underhive, many of whom have varying degrees of genetic defects. As for the sailors, haven't they seen enough Sons of the Void already?

This attitude of not wanting to get involved is quite interesting upon closer examination. The source can only be the military, and it has nothing to do with the Ecclesiarchy, because the Ecclesiarchy has long since turned the matter of saving genetically mutated people into a large-scale missionary activity, which is only carried out on the Emperor's Ascension Day.

On that day, priests would personally go there with machines that could sing hymns to cure those suffering from genetic defects for free, claiming it was the Emperor's Mercy and that He had erased their sins.

But the military is different. Although recognized mutants like Ratling or Ogryn have long been integrated into it, discrimination still exists.

There was mutual discrimination between the guards and the navy, between voluntary enlistment and Tithe conscription, and even the slightest regional differences became grounds for ridicule, insults, and beatings.

Therefore, even back then, Karyl had already roughly guessed Haide's true identity—a retired soldier, and a shrewd one at that.

The moment he placed his hand on his shoulder, he even double-checked: there were no vengeful spirits haunting Haide's soul.

That's why he hired him.

Now, gazing at that wrinkled, weathered face, he came to a conclusion: Haide had not lied.

He finally lowered his dangling index finger.

"The Inquisition?" the Lion El'Jonson repeated, his brow furrowed.

He didn't even glance at Karyl, which was exactly what Karyl wanted.

The former corporal remained silent for a long time before finally answering the Lion El'Jonson: "Yes, sir, the Inquisition."

"Which Inquisitor is it? To which faction does it belong?"

"I don't know, I only know it's a woman," Haide replied bitterly. "But, sir—"

"--But what?" the Lion El'Jonson asked.

Haide fell silent again, this time for even longer than before.

His facial expressions shifted constantly, a jumble of emotions, like an abstract painting. Wrinkles overlapped, concealing the scars beneath, and his eyes were mostly obscured by his unkempt, disheveled hair.

The Lion El'Jonson did not urge him; he displayed extraordinary patience, and this time, he no longer looked like a Lion stalking its prey.

Silence stretched on for several minutes before Haide finally reacted. His previously raised shoulders suddenly slumped, his lips tightened, and his gray beard trembled—then he spoke.

"I'm an idiot, officers, I'm a really stupid person. I never learned how to change magazines quickly when I enlisted, and I'm also stubborn in battle. My company commander always scolds me for it, saying that if I don't change, I'll only ever be a corporal."

"But I think this is fine. I only need to take care of myself and the other fourteen people, and that's enough. Any more, and this idiot like me won't be able to handle it. But even an idiot like me knows what it means to be courting death."

"Back on Soviet, we were just throwing our lives away. Nobody thought we could win. We knew our own limitations. Unless we doubled our numbers, how could we possibly beat those Orks bastards?"

"But we went anyway, and we went to our deaths, because—sir—because one of your sons, a man named Hariel, gave us a pep talk."

The Lion El'Jonson nodded slightly, finally showing some emotion. Haide, however, remained oblivious, simply lowering his head and rambling on about what he wanted to say.

"His first words were: 'You are about to die.' This statement made my superiors very unhappy with him, and it also made many people want to curse him."

"But he immediately added: 'It doesn't matter, my brothers and I will go to hell with you.' He then spent the next five minutes explaining the matter in detail."

"He told us that the reason this operation was called a suicide mission was because the hastily assembled forces were insufficient to completely contain the second battle group of the Hadilan Orks, so we had to pay with our lives—and many lives at that—to hold them off."

"He said, 'What we need to do is simple: stall them for as long as possible. The combined fleet can't get here right now; they're fighting the remaining three Orks battle groups. Until they arrive, we're the only ones who can hold them off.'"

Finally, he said that if things were truly so unfortunate that the Combined Fleet couldn't arrive in time, he and his brothers would die with us.

"With those words, what else can we say? One Astartes is worth ten thousand of us; even the screws on their Power Armour are more valuable than our lives, yet they were willing to die alongside us. So we went, and they kept their word."

"From the tracks, Reverend Hariel and his brothers came down, and for a moment we turned the tide. But we still lost in the end, and I can't even tell you how we lost because I was stunned by the shelling."

"When I woke up, I was in a foxhole with six other people, unable to move, covered in blood and bits of flesh. At first, I even thought I had lost my legs or arms because they were numb."

"I was terrified and didn't know what to do until I heard someone crying. It wasn't loud, but it was annoying. So I told him, 'Stop fucking crying,' and then more people chimed in, telling that bastard to stop crying."

"After that, we spent some time digging each other out of the piles of corpses, then grabbed our guns and began wandering through the jungle that had been burned to ashes. There were corpses and ashes everywhere—ours, the Orks bastards', and the Dark Angels '."

"We walked for almost several tens of minutes before we heard a sound, like a wail. At first, the six of us lucky ones thought we had encountered wounded soldiers. The crybaby immediately grabbed his gun and tried to rescue them, but we held him down."

"We've served much longer than him, and we all know that wasn't a human scream. A person in pain couldn't scream that loudly. Half a minute later, we saw something moving on the other side of the position. It..."

Haide clenched his fists, his face filled with fear and sorrow, but he still forced himself to continue speaking.

"It's enormous, sir. It's undoubtedly a monster, bigger than a tank, but it's crying, shouting, and screaming. It has many faces, our faces."

He looked up at the Lion El'Jonson, then pounced on him, kneeling at his feet and continuing his description, "Our face, sir, do you understand? We, it. It is made up of us, I understood as soon as I saw it, we—"

Before he could finish speaking, his eyes suddenly rolled back, revealing only the whites. This was followed by an indescribable, violent convulsion, as if he were having an epileptic seizure. He collapsed to the ground, making strange hoarse noises, and clutched at his own neck with both hands.

The breath escaped from its throat, forming a hoarse sentence, but it didn't sound like its own voice at all; it sounded like a woman's voice.

"This person has been marked by the Inquisition; whatever he has said should be considered a lie. The mark has now been broken, and the Inquisition will arrive soon. Whoever you are, be prepared."

A flash of blue light appeared in Karyl's eyes, causing the corporal to faint. The Lion El'Jonson looked over with a grim face and saw a smile he knew all too well.

"Get ready, Lion?" Karyl said with a smile.