Among the Stars (II, 45k)

The transport ship's hatch slowly opened, and the fresh air of Macragge rushed in, accompanied by the sound of high-pitched string music.

An entire orchestra—or two—began playing music with an almost frenzied passion.

The common people began to cheer and applaud, and spontaneously offered their own poems. Flower petals were scattered along the red carpet by shyly smiling young girls, whose baskets were filled with waiting garlands.

They had been informed of the matter as early as yesterday, and the first thing Roboute Guilliman did upon his return was to announce to the entire Macragge that his brother's army was about to arrive—although he did not say exactly how many men there were, the residents of Macragge felt they could not allow Roboute Guilliman to be disgraced.

However, the people inside the transport ship were not as excited as they had imagined.

The somber, quiet, and oppressive atmosphere struck Roboute Guilliman, who strode forward, causing his smile to falter.

Undoubtedly, this was not an appropriate attitude. However, before he could question it, his gaze was drawn to a giant standing at the very front of the crowd. A pair of completely black eyes on that pale face were calmly gazing at him.

In an instant, Roboute Guilliman knew who it was.

And what he should do next.

He stretched out his right hand, abruptly stopped, and blocked his butler's path on the long red carpet.

Tarasha Euten gasped softly, nearly falling over. She couldn't keep up with her adopted son's reaction, but that wasn't the most important thing. She quickly regained her balance and looked up to see a familiar face, grim and terrifying.

The steward's expression suddenly turned anxious.

The bands continued, the people waited, and the Ultramarines slowly gathered. They could see what was happening and sensed the change in atmosphere from their Primarch's faces.

"No."

Roboute Guilliman expressed his stance with a simple voice. Like the Rock parting the waves, he stood at the very center of the surrounding Ultramarines, firmly shielding his mother behind him.

He stared intently at the pale giant—or rather, at the Astartes standing beside him.

The Eighth Legion's distinctive paint scheme—a somber blue, black shoulder armor, and the MK1 design—signifies that he served in the Unification Wars and is a former member of the Emperor. But what else?

That's all, except for a right hand resting on a shoulder armor.

It remained there calmly, as if it had existed since time immemorial, without any visible exertion of force from its five fingers, yet the owner of the shoulder armor was firmly bound in place.

Roboute Guilliman noticed it as quickly as he had noticed one of the hundreds of other details he had captured in those short two minutes.

He loved to study, read, and compare repeatedly. It was his nature, and it was also a habit he developed later in life.

Therefore, he immediately realized how strange and unusual the Astartes' standing posture was.

Full of threats.

Then, in his imagination, he removed the hand that bound Astartes.

Five seconds later, he took a deep breath.

"Stand behind me." Roboute Guilliman turned and whispered. "Don't ask anything, ma'am, don't ask anything. I swear I'll explain, but for now, please stand behind me."

"If this is your wish," his foster mother answered him with her eyes, a look that was resolute and full of determination, in stark contrast to her frail appearance.

You need to know one thing— Tarasha Euten wasn't respected because she became Roboute Guilliman's steward.

Therefore, she stood quietly behind her adopted son, letting him walk away, his back completely obscuring her.

Roboute Guilliman strode confidently toward the transport ship. This wasn't the first time he'd seen the soldiers of the Eighth Legion, but it was the first time they'd seemed so uneasy.

His gaze fell upon the pale giant behind him, his eyes so sharp they seemed to pierce through the helmet. After taking twelve steps, his posture relaxed. Forty steps later, he reached the very edge of the red carpet, arriving at the helipad where the ship was moored.

Behind him, his adoptive mother and his sons began to wait anxiously.

"Nice to meet you, good day," Roboute Guilliman said to the giant. "But I never expected our first meeting to be like this."

"I think you need an apology," the giant replied quietly, his voice soft.

"No, I don't need that. What I need is an explanation," Roboute Guilliman said. "There's no need for an apology if there's no wrongdoing."

"In fact"

Karyl slowly turned his head to look at the trembling company commander. "Yes."

"You haven't done anything wrong to me, or to anyone on Macragge," Roboute Guilliman said firmly. "So I now demand an explanation, Mr. Karyl, my brother's foster father, instructor of the Eighth Legion. I really need an explanation."

"Five minutes," Karyl said calmly. "Give me five minutes— Xianni, you can all go now."

Roboute Guilliman frowned as he watched a soldier step out of formation and strode off the transport ship. He kept his head down, looking more like a prisoner than a visitor. He only straightened up after being reminded by one of his brothers.

Roboute Guilliman turned around and put on a smile. He could sense that his adoptive mother was watching him, and he knew that she could see the worry he was hiding, but it didn't matter.

As long as she's safe and sound, that's all that matters.

With a smile and a wave, Roboute Guilliman turned around, only to see two fleeting flashes of blue light.

What.?

He had no answer, only that, amidst a sickening metallic creak, the Astartes trapped beneath Karyl Lohars' right hand slowly lowered his head. His shoulder armor shattered along with it, as easily as glass.

--

Where am I?

There was no answer in the darkness.

Where am I?

There was no answer in the darkness. That's normal; the darkness won't answer me. How could the darkness possibly answer my questions?

No, that's not right, who am I?

A long silence followed, unsettlingly silent, almost deathly still. A scent wafted into my nostrils, and it took me a long, long time to realize what it was: the smell of death.

I have smelled it countless times. I have smelled it in the underground laboratory of the Seragon enclave, I have smelled it on the continent of Europa, I have smelled it in Krois, and I have smelled it on countless battlefields where I am needed.

Actually, I saw it when I was very young.

My earliest memory is of my father's death.

He was the son of a criminal, and so was I. It was a dark underground cave. My mother killed my father, her hands covered in blood, yet she wept in sorrow.

Isn't it ironic? Even the descendants of criminals have feelings. My mother was pale and strong, and my father was equally pale and strong. They were also fierce, but their fierceness was for self-protection.

Then my father died.

Then, my mother died too.

Then, I became a member of the Eighth Legion.

The Emperor himself came and took us away. I've seen him, and I can say this with great pride, even though I witnessed him blind me for four and a half weeks. My shoulder armor can attest to that. I participated in the Unification Wars and was fortunate enough to survive to this day.

I was reborn because of war, and I lost many things in the continuous wars, some of which I don't care about, and some of which I care about very much.

However, I am now inseparable from my armor. Although I can take it off, I can no longer leave my duty.

I cannot. Just as I cannot leave our Primarch.

Primarch?

Konrad Curze Curze?

What am I trying to say?

My words seem incoherent, just like my thoughts. What was I asking in the first place?

Yes, yes, I remember now.

Who I am?

Who I am?

There was no answer. No one answered.

I was somewhat angry; I didn't understand why I wasn't getting an answer. But I also really wanted to know where I was, and why I couldn't see anything.

Why am I not getting an answer?

So many voices are whispering in my ear, but I can only hear them.

No, that's not right.

Who is speaking?

Is that you, Xianni? Or Leonard?

I'm sorry to expel you from the company, I'm so sorry, Leonard. But I have no choice, you have to leave. I can still take off my armor, but you've become one with it. You've forgotten what we fight for. I'm heartbroken by this, but I have to do it, we all have to.

Us?

Who are we?

Father, Mother, Legion, Primarch, the Emperor?

Who are you all?

Where are you?

Is anyone there? Please answer me, anyone will do, just please, who am I?

"You are Van Cleef," a voice said. "You are a company commander in the Eighth Legion, and you are currently standing on the ground in Macragge. You are to kill Tarasha Euten."

Who?

"Tarasha Euten, a mere mortal."

I only kill sinners; I am the Judgment.

"She is a sinner, Van Cleef. She and her adopted son have sinned against your Legion, and against your Primarch."

Really?

"Of course it's true, can't you see her?"

I saw it.

Through the goggles, I saw it. At the very end of the red carpet, there was a woman standing there. I also heard something, and I saw something else.

Why can I see again?

I heard the transport ship's engines gradually shutting off, the jet stream sending petals fluttering through the air, and there stood the woman amidst this beautiful scene. What was she doing? Was she smiling? Wait, where was everyone else? Why could I only see her?

No, no, that's not right. Who is she?

"She's Tarasha Euten, your target, Van Cleef. Kill her, and that's it. Kill her, and stop the whispers in your ear. I know you don't like them, do you? You want peace and quiet, you need to be alone."

I only kill sinners.

"She is a sinner."

What crime did she commit?

"She and her adopted son Roboute Guilliman, are attempting to infiltrate your Legion and your future homeworld. She is trying to harm your Primarch."

She was just a mortal.

"Sometimes, wanting to do something has nothing to do with status. She's a mortal, but she's also Roboute Guilliman's chief steward. You know that, right? You met her a long time ago."

Have I seen her before?

"Of course you've seen it, Van Cleef. You've seen her plotting in her own mansion, you've seen her and her son Roboute Guilliman's sinister smiles."

"Macragge, a state within the Imperium. The Ultramarines, a group of oddballs who have taken on more political responsibilities and identities than just warriors. What does Roboute Guilliman want? He wants to amass power to overthrow the Empire."

"He was once your Primarch's brother, but he isn't anymore. His mind has been corrupted by Tarasha Euten's venom. Your Primarch's brother is now an ambitious schemer. He sent five hundred Ultramarines toward Nostramo. He shouldn't have done that. What right did he have to do it?"

"Five hundred Ultramarines, what does he want to do? Can't some mortal Archon serve the same purpose? Roboute Guilliman deserves to die, but his death is none of your business, Van Cleef. My Lord has his uses for him."

"And all you need to do is Judgment Tarasha Euten. So, break free from Karyl Lohars's shackles; he foolishly rejected his own nature and even gave away a part of it."

"I will help you, Van Cleef. With my help, you can kill that woman in a second. Karyl Lohars has sensed something is wrong, but that doesn't matter. You just need to Judgment her. You can do it, as long as you give your life."

Who I am?

Sigh, damn it, the Veil blocked my power, otherwise you should have been completely under my control from the very beginning.

Why are you sighing?

"You are Van Cleef, you are a company commander in the Eighth Legion, and you are going to kill—"

"--Shut up."

Who is it?

Wait, this is the second voice, not the first. Who is speaking? I hear something screaming in the darkness.

Van Cleef.

Who?

"Speak to me with your own voice, Van Cleef, not with the voices they give you," the second voice said to me in a cold, hard, steely tone.

He seemed to be fighting. I don't know where that feeling came from, but I could sense his anger, that kind of anger.

Terra above, who is he? No, that's not right, who am I?

"I am Karyl Lohars, an instructor in the Eighth Legion. You are Van Cleef, a company commander in the Eighth Legion. Wake up, Van Cleef."

Something is appearing before my eyes.

I saw a golden giant, a giant walking among us, a giant who wept with sorrow for our plight.

He became my lord after that. He reshaped my body with his son's blood. He was clad in armor, wielding a weapon, and charged alongside us at the forefront of the battle, surrounded by his personal guards.

I saw a group of sinners who had turned humans into monsters, cowering in the darkness, trembling with fear of the Judgment that was to come.

But I felt only anger. I didn't understand how they dared to do this, how they dared to open the gates of the abyss and begin researching dangerous psionic energy with only a little bit of superficial knowledge.

I killed them, filled with rage as I did so; my fury seemed inexhaustible. Leonard stopped me.

He said, "Never forget what we are fighting for."

Leonard, Leonard.

I remember now.

Leonard, who had forgotten why he fought, I remember now, Xianni of Terra, I remember now, I--

Primarch, Primarch.

I am Van Cleef, Primarch. I am your Company Commander. I swear allegiance to the Emperor, and I swear allegiance to you, until death do us part.

I--

I heard a sigh.

"Van Cleef." A second voice spoke to me in a low, almost sobbing tone I had never heard before. "Are you really going to do this?"

"Yes, Instructor," I whispered. "It requires my life; it has left a mark on my heart, a mark I can see. So I must destroy it."

I already know who I am.

I am the First Company of the Eighth Legion of the Emperor, the son of Primarch Konrad Curze Curze, and Van Cleef from Terra.

I am going to my death.

Also, there's more today, I know everyone's having a hard time with the lag.

By the way, do you want to guess whether the company commander will die?