The Cold Equation

[The Father's Gaze and Love] + [Heretic Leader].

Under Alexander's will, the two passive abilities actively unleashed their power for the first time.

For the first time, genuine, grave shock flashed through Inquisitor Valerius's hawk-like eyes!

He could sense the essence of that power. It was neither psychic power nor any known form of Chaos corruption.

It was a... stranger force, more fundamental and purer, one that acted directly upon the human heart and faith itself—a force he could not comprehend!

"I'll go with you, Inquisitor."

Alexander spoke. His face was sickly pale, yet his gaze was as calm as an ancient well whose depths could not be seen.

He slowly rose from the bed. His iron left hand gave a faint hydraulic hiss.

"But before I go, I want a guarantee."

"You are in no position to negotiate with me, suspected heretic," Valerius said coldly. Yet the hand resting on his sword hilt unconsciously tightened.

"They are heroes of the Imperium." Ignoring him, Alexander pointed with his intact right hand at the more than three hundred fervent soldiers behind him. "They bled dry, lost limbs, and burned away everything they had to defend the Emperor's realm. They deserve the honor and treatment due to heroes, not to be kept in a cold ward like a pack of madmen under surveillance."

"I demand that they immediately receive the best follow-up treatment and recuperation. I demand that their deeds be reported to Terra, word for word! I demand that the Imperium give them everything they deserve!"

His voice grew louder and firmer. The aura of leadership radiating from him made even battle-hardened Inquisitor Valerius feel an inexplicable pressure.

"They paid for this with their lives. Whoever dares to skim even a fraction, whoever dares to forget a single name—I, Alexander von Lawrence, will chase him to the end of the Warp and twist off his head to use as a piss pot!"

"Are you... threatening an Inquisitor?" Valerius's single eye narrowed into a dangerous slit.

"No. I'm merely stating a fact." Alexander smiled, revealing white teeth. "And passing along a small request from my three hundred-odd family members."

Valerius fell silent.

He looked at the young man before him, who had only one arm left, then at the three hundred-plus wounded soldiers behind him, glaring at him like mad wolves guarding their cubs.

He knew that if he refused Alexander's terms today, he might still be able to use the authority of the Inquisition to take this young man by force.

But the price would be a colossal scandal: more than three hundred Imperial war heroes publicly murdering an Inquisitor.

And he, Valerius, would certainly not leave this ward alive.

"...Fine."

After a long while, he squeezed out a single word through clenched teeth.

"I will personally oversee the matter. Now, will you come with me, Commissar... sir?"

Alexander smiled in satisfaction.

He turned around and opened his arms to the more than three hundred "family members," whose faces were filled with worry and reluctance.

"Brothers, I'm going on a long journey. When I return, I'll bring you the Emperor's commendation and brand-new assignments."

"Until I return, you have only one thing to do."

"Recover from your wounds. Stay alive."

"Then wait for me to lead you in lighting a... bigger Hearth."

With that, under the "escort" of Inquisitor Valerius and the two Storm Troopers standing like statues, he walked steadily out of the ward, one step at a time, and vanished at the end of the corridor.

All that remained were more than three hundred surviving soldiers, staring for a long time in the direction he had gone, their eyes burning with a fervent fire powerful enough to consume the entire universe.

At the same time, tens of thousands of light-years away, in the cradle and heart of human civilization—Holy Terra.

Deep within the magnificent Imperial Palace, the greatest architectural marvel in human history, which spanned an entire continent, stood an enormous hall vast enough to hold several Titan Legions. Yet at that moment, it was so empty that only Silence and solemnity remained.

A towering figure, godlike and far beyond mortal proportions, sat upon a massive throne forged from Auramite and Wraithbone.

He wore azure power armor engraved with a white "U" insignia. He had short golden hair and a perfect, resolute face like an ancient Terran sculpture. There was not the slightest emotional fluctuation in his eyes—only pure reason and logic, deep as the stars.

He was the Lord Regent of the Imperium, master of Ultramar, father of the Astartes, Primarch of the Ultramarines—Roboute Guilliman.

This legendary demigod, who had awakened from ten thousand years of slumber and single-handedly pulled the Imperium back from the brink of collapse, was quietly reviewing a highest-level encrypted battle report that had just arrived from the distant Gothic Subsector.

The report was titled Summary Report on the Defense of Viridia Prime.

Guilliman read at an unimaginable speed. His mind, like the most precise biological computer, processed the report's immense volume of data and tactical analysis in mere seconds.

His face remained expressionless.

But his fingers lightly tapped against the armrest of his throne without conscious thought.

"...An understrength Astra Militarum remnant regiment scheduled for disbandment, at only seventy percent manpower and without any heavy weapon support, faced the main force of an Ork Waaagh! estimated at over seven hundred thousand head-on. They held for more than thirty-six hours and ultimately annihilated the Ork warlord and his core command structure, along with no fewer than five hundred thousand ground troops, at the cost of a ninety percent casualty rate..."

"...The tactical core was an extreme, highly incendiary wartime ideological system named by its commissar the 'Hearth Theory'..."

"...The core tactic involved using grain dust within industrial facilities to create a deliberate, mutually destructive strategic explosion with a yield equivalent to a small-scale Exterminatus event..."

For the first time, a ripple stirred in the star-deep sea of reason within Guilliman's eyes.