We No Longer Fear

"Welcome to Malakbel, Colonel Karsten, Commissar Lawrence. On behalf of the Fourth Fleet, I welcome your arrival. I and everyone present have already heard of your deeds on Viridia. You are heroes of the Imperium."

Though his words were merely polite, the naval officers present, whose gazes had held a trace of disdain, all turned serious.

"It is our honor to serve the Imperium, Admiral," Colonel Karsten replied at once, standing at attention with the crisp, forceful voice characteristic of Mordian soldiers.

Admiral Abukansis gave a slight nod. Then his gaze passed over Karsten and fell directly upon the young commissar, who had maintained a calm smile from beginning to end, as though he had merely come here for sightseeing.

"Commissar Lawrence," his voice turned stern, "from the Regent's handwritten letter, I have learned of the special nature of you and your troops. But I must know exactly why you have come here. What can you—or rather, all of you—bring to this coming war, a war that concerns the future of the entire dark side of the Imperium?"

His question was direct and sharp. Everyone present turned their eyes toward Alexander.

The smile on Alexander's face did not fade in the slightest. He did not answer directly, merely walking slowly toward the enormous three-dimensional star map.

"Admiral," he extended his intact right hand and pointed to the planet marked "Malakbel" on the star map. "Do you know who the enemy we are about to face is?"

Admiral Abukansis fell silent. The officers behind him stirred uneasily, their whispers suppressed.

"...I know." After a long while, the admiral's steady voice sounded again, but this time it carried a trace of weariness and gravity that even he had not noticed. "The Grey Knights have already told me the name we least wished to hear."

"Angron."

The instant the admiral spoke that name, the temperature of the entire bridge seemed to drop by several degrees. A cold shadow, reeking of blood and despair, descended upon every heart.

Angron. That name itself was taboo, the incarnation of the purest, most insoluble, most frenzied destruction.

"It seems you have prepared for the worst." Alexander nodded. "Then I will not waste any more time."

He turned to face everyone present. "I have come here with only one request. I request that my 99th Regiment, the Cadian Pride, be deployed on the final defensive line of the Hymn Engine."

His words were like a boulder thrown into a still lake, instantly stirring a tremendous uproar of shock and confusion across the bridge.

"What?!"

"The final defensive line? Isn't that the safest place?!"

A hot-tempered captain from the Mars Fleet was the first to lose his restraint, demanding loudly, "Boy! What do you think this place is, a tourist attraction? We are about to face a Daemon Primarch! An entire Chaos Legion! And you want to hide at the very back with your troops?!"

"I've long heard of your exploits! It was just a suicidal explosion! You were merely lucky! You Army cowards just want to come here and seize the fruits of victory that we Navy men bought with blood and lives!"

His words immediately drew a chorus of agreement.

"That's right! Cowards!"

"Get back to your trenches! You're not welcome here!"

Faced with the hostility and contempt crashing over him like a wave, Alexander still wore a smile. He even gave a slight bow to the Mars captain who had cursed him most fiercely.

"You are right, General. We are indeed cowards." His answer left everyone stunned.

"Before Angron's godlike incarnation of rage, any soldier who still possesses human emotions will become a coward. Their legs will tremble with fear, their weapons will fall from their hands in despair, and the fragile courage built from Imperial doctrine will collapse the instant it touches that most primal, pure divinity of slaughter. They will weep, scream, flee, and fall to their knees to beg for mercy—but in the end, they will only be crushed into fragments as easily as an ant beneath that furious demigod's foot."

His voice was not loud, yet it carried an eerie, spell-like penetration. The picture of despair and bloodshed he described made every battle-hardened officer present feel an involuntary, bone-deep chill rise up their spines.

"Ordinary soldiers cannot stop Angron, no matter how numerous they are or how advanced their equipment. Because they can still 'fear.'"

Alexander paused, then slowly raised his head. In those pale golden eyes, the pupils that had always been as still as an ancient well suddenly burst into flame! It was a fire hotter and purer than that of any mad Chaos cultist those present had ever seen!

"But my soldiers are different. They no longer 'fear.' Because they have long since offered their souls to their Hearth. In their understanding, death is not an end, but a return—a most glorious rite of turning themselves into fuel to provide warmth for their family."

He slowly raised his cold, savage iron left hand. "My ten thousand soldiers and I did not come here for victory, nor for honor. We came to clutch explosives powerful enough to blow this battleship into pieces and perish together with that furious Red Angel. We are the final match meant to ignite the entire pyre."

"So, Admiral." He looked again at the fleet commander, who had remained silent throughout but whose eyes had grown increasingly grave and complicated. "Put us where the kindling is closest. Because only we have the right—and the ability—to light it."

The entire bridge fell into deathly silence. Everyone was utterly shaken by Alexander's declaration, filled with madness and heresy, yet containing the purest spirit of sacrifice. They looked at this young commissar with only one arm left, at his pale golden eyes burning with fire, and suddenly understood. This was not cowardice. It was a kind of mad courage beyond the bounds of their comprehension.

After a long while, Admiral Abukansis let out a long sigh filled with complicated emotions.

"...I understand." He walked up to Alex and, for the first time, offered his hand to the young man. "The Imperium thanks you for your sacrifice."

Alexander smiled and clasped the admiral's hand with his intact right hand. "No need for thanks. After all, we are—family."