91 Promise (5k)

"Is he inside?"

"The Primarch is handling official business," Gage said without changing his expression, while inwardly sighing.

The reason is simple: the woman who was questioning him didn't look too pleased.

Upon hearing this extremely obvious, formulaic answer, Tarasha Euten's lips curled downwards slightly.

She clenched her fist, rubbed the U-shaped emblem on it with her thumb, and spoke again after half a minute.

Meanwhile, she had already changed to a more relaxed standing posture. Her intention to entangle with Gage here was quite obvious, and the First Chapter Master began to groan inwardly.

It was getting dark, and he needed to get back to the base as soon as possible to catch the night training. Even as the Chapter Master, it was unacceptable for him to miss the weekly training without a valid reason.

"He hasn't left his office for four days," Roboute Guilliman's butler said, his voice tinged with obvious anger. "What official business requires him to work on it for four days straight without sleep?"

"This has happened before, ma'am," Gage said vaguely.

He shouldn't have been standing there answering Euten's question; that was a job for the Victrix Guard, not him. But he was clearly unlucky, getting caught by this woman just as he was about to leave the office building.

"Yes, it's happened three times in total," Euten said calmly. "But I remember the cause and effect of each time, except for this time—or rather, I have no idea what happened that night."

"We don't know either," Gage thought to himself.

"Madam, I know what you want to ask, but I really have no right to disclose that information."

"Very well, since you can't answer this question, I won't press you, Gage. But I have one more question. Why did he issue the order to abolish the current site of the Jericho University? Its anniversary celebration was only recently, and this matter has caused a huge uproar in Macragge."

"."

Gage silent, deciding to respond to the woman with only brief affirmative or negative answers from then on.

He had no answers to these questions either, and if he simply said "I don't know," Ms. Euten obviously wouldn't believe him so easily.

However, this silence clearly had the opposite effect.

"Do you think you can just brush me off like this, First Chapter Master?"

She frowned, her expression growing increasingly sharp. "While I may be just a mortal compared to you, that doesn't mean I'm stupid! Open the door and let me in; I need to talk to him."

"I would love to do that, ma'am, but I can't."

Gage sighed earnestly. "You know the Primarch's temperament better than any of us, madam. He hasn't seen anyone these days, and unless he comes out himself, no one can open that door."

After a brief silence, Tarasha Euten nodded.

"And what about the instructor?" she asked. "Where is he? I don't want to make things difficult for you or these diligent guards, but I need to find out exactly what made Roboute Guilliman this way."

"The hospital at our base, ma'am," Gage said.

--

Karyl slowly closed the door, shutting out the beeping of the instruments from the room. He silently flexed his wrist, a rare chill spreading across his face.

Van Cleef is still in critical condition and could die at any moment. The Ultramarines' medics have assured him that they will do everything in their power to keep Van Cleef alive.

They did not know the reason for the company commander's injury, but everyone believed that the Eighth Legion's company commander should not be allowed to die from his injuries on Macragge.

Many people have mentioned the Dreadnought, but these inquiries were either denied by Van Cleef himself when he was lucid, or by subsequent orders from Roboute Guilliman.

"No need to prepare Dreadnought for Company Van Cleef," Roboute Guilliman said in a deep voice over the voice message. "He'll be fixed."

Repair it—not cure it.

Such a cold adjective surprised many, but few inquired about the reason. Most Ultramarines simply obeyed the orders issued by their Primarch.

As for Karyl's thoughts

"Now is not the time," he thought.

Leaning against the corridor wall, he slowly exhaled a breath of air that smelled of disinfectant.

This ambiguous sense of illusion almost made him want to laugh—years had passed, and even on a planet far away in the galaxy, the hospital still smelled the same.

Disinfectant, doctors racing against death, crying children or parents, patients' wails, and the race against time in the operating room.

He snapped out of his thoughts and raised his head with an indifferent expression.

In a sense, he is also racing against time now. But not for Van Cleef's life, but for something else.

For a promise, a promise of Vengeance.

His promise on the transport ship.

Breathing slowly, Karyl slowed his thoughts.

Half a minute later, his breathing and heartbeat completely stopped, his pupils dilated, and he was as silent as if he were truly dead. If there had been a medic from the Ultramarines in the corridor, they would probably have rushed over by now.

But they weren't there; following an order, they had temporarily left the area.

There are only two people in this hospital now. One is critically injured and on the verge of death, while the other seems to be truly dead.

The sun's Radiance pierced through the French windows, and time flowed by. In the years before clocks were invented, our ancestors relied on the sun's movement to tell time.

The idea of working at sunrise and resting at sunset is not just empty talk.

There was no sound in the empty hospital corridors, not even the sound of breathing, except for the faint dripping sound coming from Van Cleef's room.

With his head bowed, Karyl leaned motionless against the wall. A chilling coldness emanated from the half of his hand that was in contact with the wall, spreading subtly and hissing, a hidden anger that vanished silently in the blinding light.

They are waiting.

He is too.

Waiting for what?

Two and a half hours later, when it was completely dark and the incandescent light on the corridor ceiling came on, Karyl gave his answer.

He clenched his right fist tightly, a chilling Radiance faintly shining through his fingers.

The stagnant blood began to surge through the veins again, the breathing became as rapid as the growling of a wild beast, the heartbeat resumed, and a frigid temperature beyond human comprehension swept in, filling the entire corridor in an instant.

A fraction of a second after the revival, Karyl opened the door to Van Cleef's room. Time had lost its meaning; here, time was in his hands.

Van Cleef, who had been lying flat on the bed, suddenly sat up, contrary to common sense.

His dissolved muscle tissue hung quietly on the bones, and his internal organs were clearly visible between the rib plates.

These things meant that the medical officers had to change his mattress every hour and a half, otherwise the semi-congealed mixture of blood and flesh would completely soak through the medical mattress.

His eyes were open, and his charred teeth were faintly visible between his upper and lower jaws. Pain was boiling over his bloodied and mangled face.

He wanted to scream, clearly. A blue hue, distinct from the psionic light, appeared on the two hearts beating between his chest and abdomen.

--There's one thing you shouldn't have forgotten.

While on the transport ship, Van Cleef attempted to destroy his own heart to completely erase the "trace," but he was later burned to a crisp by unseen flames.

He's not Psyker, so where did this flame come from?

The answer is obvious.

Karyl released his right fist, allowing the light to fully bloom, dazzlingly brilliant like a blossoming flower of light. However, the raw material that allowed it to bloom and propelled it into its current form was not of goodwill.

In fact, they are the opposite of good, the opposite of purity.

The next second, his consciousness returned to another world.

It was still darkness, still that heavy the Veil that separated the mortal world from ghosts and monsters. But at this moment, a monster took a step back in disbelief behind the Veil.

It has two heads, its body a blend of alluring blue and heart-pounding pink, its brilliant Radiance reflecting off its vibrant feathers in a dazzling Radiance that is impossible to ignore. Its body is covered with countless eyes, their deep blue pupils blinking rapidly and anxiously.

The monster's two heads were wide open with hard bird beaks, and each of its forked tongues had another large mouth filled with fangs, making it as dizzying as an abyss within an abyss.

The next second, all nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine eyes on its body reflected a hand burning with pitch-black flames. That hand suddenly reached in from the other side of the Veil and grabbed one of its necks.

"No! No!" its other head screamed. "I didn't see this future!"

Karyl laughed—or rather, he grinned maliciously.

He rarely showed such a terrifying expression; a chilling killing intent flowed in his eyes, almost materializing into sharp blades that would tear the monster to pieces.

"Do you think I don't realize that you only ran away last time, instead of dying?"

He asked in a soft, relaxed tone, as if he were having a casual chat with someone.

"Do you really think Van Cleef's willpower is as weak and feeble as you imagine, to the point that he's completely unaware of what you're doing? He's a company commander in the Eighth Legion, do you understand?"

Laughing, Karyl suddenly pulled his right hand back, causing the Veil to ripple and black flames to blaze fiercely in his hand. The monster slammed into the Veil, unable to advance an inch.

It screamed in agony, the spot where it had touched Karyl's right hand had turned a grayish-white, and the flames were burning so rapidly that they had already begun to spread to other parts of its body.

What's even more terrifying is that its pain isn't just coming from the flames; the Veil itself is tearing at its flesh. They're greedily devouring it, the twisted nature of Chaos stirring within them.

"I guess you can't, but I'd be happy to help you. So, come on." Karyl whispered softly into the Veil. "Come out, Kairos Fateweaver?"

"How could you know--?!" its other head hissed in terror.

"All nine of your clerks told me."

Karyl chuckled, uttering cold words to it, "You obviously know something; at least you know the consequences of being remembered by me."

"What a terrible conspiracy. First, kill an innocent woman of great importance, and then stir up trouble within Macragge. The Veil itself can hinder your power; how long have you been planning this day?"

It screamed, refusing to answer. Karyl simply smiled gently, his right hand clenching again.

Grayish-white dust swirled down as the monster known as the Fate Weaver trembled, vanishing without a trace into the darkness behind the Veil.

Its wings trembled in agony, every feather on its wings began to split and scream in unison, nine hundred eyes shattered, and then another nine hundred eyes reappeared, a bloody mess.

"I said—!" it screamed, uttering broken words. "--But you can't understand! You can't understand, Karyl Lohars! Chaos has been willingly abandoned by you!"

"Ah, so you know me. But I don't believe you, Fate Weaver. After all, you are clearly masters of intrigue and deception."

"I didn't lie!" it screamed in agony, its flesh mangled and half-burnt. "My head can't lie!"

"That's strange, there's such a saying?"

Yes, yes!

"But I still don't believe it."

Karyl chuckled, as if he had just played a perfect joke and was quite satisfied.

He stretched out his right hand, then pulled it back again and again—torturing it relentlessly. Each impact caused the monster, the Weaver of Fate, excruciating pain. Its fear began to spread, until it became a visible terror.

"Ask me questions! I beg you!" it screamed. "Great Vengeance, great hatred! I beg you to inquire of lowly Kairos, and I will answer every single one of your questions!"

"Are you scared?" Karyl asked gently.

Tortured by the Veil until its flesh was torn to shreds, and burned to near charcoal by the flames, the monster shed transparent tears, howled, and nodded, every part of its body trembling. It was truly afraid—it knew all too well what this thing in human skin was and what it was capable of.

"What are you afraid of? Death? Do you really think I can kill you?" Karyl laughed, but this time, he slowly released his grip. The monster watched in disbelief as its pupils began to blink rapidly again.

"Blink once more, and I'll turn you to ashes."

They stopped abruptly.

"Very good."

With a light laugh, Karyl arrogantly put his hands behind his back.

"Now you can leave, Weaver of Fate. But before that, I have something I hope you'll remember." He spoke slowly.

He stared at the monster that could have run away but stood rooted to the spot, too afraid to make a move, meeting its gaze in every single one of its eyes.

The chilling blue light erupted without reservation at that moment, making his voice a resounding declaration that echoed through the Veil; it was incredibly deep and unlike anything human could ever hear.

Kairos stared tremblingly into those eyes burning with black fury, and heard the last words.

I'll remember you.

The monster in its eyes spoke these words, growling in a low voice, baring its fangs, and beginning to grin maliciously.

"So I'll start the hunt, from here, until the end of time. You're dead, understand?"

As soon as it finished speaking, it screamed and vanished.

--

Karyl opened his eyes.

Van Cleef collapsed heavily onto his bed, breathing heavily. The medical equipment started alarming; at that moment, both of his hearts turned to ashes, congealing with his blood on the bed.

Karyl rushed to him. Van Cleef opened his mouth as if to say something, but his instructor simply extended his left hand, pressed it against Van Cleef's bloodied chest, and shook his head at him.

"You can rest now, Van Cleef," Karyl said gently. "Get some sleep, and when you open your eyes again, you won't be in pain anymore."

The blue light flashed and disappeared in an instant. The alarm from the instrument faded away after a brief pause, replaced by the rhythmic beat of a strong heart. The company commander's eyeballs trembled slightly as he silently drifted into sleep.

This time, nothing will await him in his dreams.

I'll fix you.

Karyl turned around and exhaled a breath of air, calm and slow, that smelled of blood. Blood dripped from his right hand onto the ground.

What a pity, he thought regretfully. He was just a hair's breadth away from killing it completely, but the Veil ultimately wouldn't allow him to do so. Just as they devoured the monster's flesh, they treated him the same way.

With a wry smile, he raised his right hand. The skeletal hand, with only a few bits of flesh remaining, looked terrifying, but it quickly returned to normal within seconds.

Psychic power, what a convenient force.

With a sigh, Karyl walked out of Van Cleef's room again, closing the door gently behind him. He then looked thoughtfully down the hallway, where a soft footstep could be heard.

Ah, the angry mother.

He shook his head and walked over helplessly. Three minutes later, he spotted the owner of the footsteps thanks to his eyesight.

A slender woman with short, graying hair had a barely concealed anger flickering in the shadows on her face. She leaned on a cane, yet walked quickly. At the end of the corridor, two Victrix Guards were gazing in their direction.

Karyl waved to them discreetly. He knew they could see him. Then, he went to meet the woman.

"Ms. Tarasha Euten," he greeted in a low voice.

The latter did not answer immediately; she was lost in a daze. Karyl did not urge her, but patiently and bitterly gave her time to react.

He now clearly understands how ordinary people would react to seeing him, especially since he has just finished some rather unsettling exercise.

But this woman quickly revealed her extraordinary qualities—with just two deep breaths, she suppressed her emotions and then spoke with impeccable manners.

"Good evening, Instructor Karyl Lohars." She nodded slightly, looking up at him, but not in a humble manner.

After that brief greeting, she went straight to the point, without any intention of pleasantries. "I am here for my master, Roboute Guilliman."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Karyl asked softly.

"Yes." She pursed her lips. "I have many questions I want to ask you."

"I"

Karyl sighed.

He gave a wry smile. "I will tell you everything I know to the best of my ability, Ms. Euten, I assure you."

I overestimated my typing speed. I'm going to grab a bite to eat, I'll write another 3k when I get back.

To be honest, you guys didn't even notice this foreshadowing?

Kairos had nine scribes. (laughs)