The Hymn's Final Echo, Blood-Red Aftermath

The instant the greatsword blazing with golden wrath pierced Angron's chest, another great power from a god poured into his body on the verge of collapse. Like the sturdiest anchor, it held his little boat, about to be swallowed by the storm, fast upon the shallows of the material universe.

The banishment stopped. Angron lowered his head in disbelief, looking at the greatsword in his chest, burning with the golden flames he knew best and hated most. For the first time, his brain, long utterly twisted by the Butcher's Nails, felt an emotion stronger than rage—humiliation.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

He let out an inhuman roar more shrill, more agonized, and more filled with endless fury and despair than any before. He extended his sole remaining Demon hand toward the source of all this pain—the white spire still emitting faint yet piercing golden psychic light amid the ruins: the Hymn Engine.

He gathered every ounce of strength born from boundless humiliation and rage, the "gift" bestowed by his merciless god, the "mercy" of his pitiful archenemy, and all the pain, sorrow, fury, and despair he had accumulated over ten thousand years onto his great axe, then smashed it mercilessly toward that symbol of order, hope, and "hypocrisy."

BOOM————————————————————!!!

The white spire broke from its foundation beneath that world-shattering blow, then exploded completely with a thunderous crash like the wail of the universe. Yet its destruction produced no physical shockwave. Instead, an invisible blood-red spiritual plague composed purely of Khorne's towering hatred and endless divine slaughter spread madly from the blast's center throughout the Malakbel System at the speed of light.

Among the remnants of the Imperial fleet that had yet to withdraw to safety, every living mortal—whether battle-hardened Primaris Space Marine or devout Sister of Battle, revered Ecclesiarchy priest or iron-willed Inquisitor—heard, at the same instant, an endlessly seductive whisper rising from the depths of their souls.

[Slaughter... blood... skulls... for... the Blood God...]

The next second, their eyes turned crimson. Their reason was utterly devoured by the purest, most primal urge to kill. They raised their weapons, not at the enemy, but at the brothers, sisters, and comrades who had once fought beside them. A sudden, savage slaughter erupted throughout the remnants of the Imperial fleet.

Only the Sisters of Silence, born without souls; the Grey Knights, whose souls had long been purified by the Emperor's holy light; and the Adeptus Custodes, whose very wills were extensions of the Emperor's will, were truly spared the effects of the terrible Murderer's Curse. They stared in stunned disbelief at the hellish scene before them. They were slaughtering others, and being slaughtered in turn.

After the war, when less than forty percent of the Imperial fleet survived and limped back to Terra with shattered hulls and wounds of the soul that could never heal, the entire Imperium was shaken. The Battle of Malakbel was deemed the most tragic and heroic strategic retreat since the founding of the Imperium. Five percent of the Indomitus Crusade's strength had vanished in that brief battle.

But everyone knew that if the young commissar had not used his almost heretically cold logic to persuade Admiral Abukansis to order the retreat at the final moment, the losses would have been one hundred percent. If he and that mad army had not used their flesh and blood to buy the fleet those precious dozen minutes, the entire Fourth Fleet would have faced the most terrifying fate of all: total annihilation and universal corruption.

At the cost of ten thousand lives, he saved fully half the Fourth Indomitus Crusade fleet. At the cost of a complete tactical defeat, he won the Imperium a bitter strategic victory.

Thus, at the personal recommendation of Imperial Regent Roboute Guilliman and with the unanimous approval of Terra's Supreme Religious Council, that young commissar, so full of controversy and contradiction in life—the Heretic Leader who used the warmest words to incite the coldest slaughter, the war maniac who used the coldest logic to enact the most glorious sacrifice—Alexander von Lawrence, was posthumously canonized as an [Imperial Saint], with the title [the Burned One].

He and the 99th Regiment, the Cadian Pride, whose entire force was likewise posthumously named Imperial heroes, became known as the [Emperor's Hearth].

Their deeds were written into the Imperium's highest-ranked heroic epics. Their statues stood in the plazas of countless Loyalty Academies. Their stories were retold time and again by innumerable Ecclesiarchy priests in the lowest levels of countless Hive Cities. They became a legend—a dark fairy tale drenched in blood and fire, about family, protection, sacrifice, and redemption.

Meanwhile, within a pure white void beyond time and space, Liu Zhipeng's soul slowly opened its eyes.

A cold system notification sounded in the depths of his soul.

[Third Life: Ended]

[Current Identity: Imperium of Man—Legion Commissar—Imperial Saint—Alexander von Lawrence (Deceased)]

[Behavior Evaluation: With a mortal body, you performed the deeds of a god. With the most extreme flames of protection, you confronted the purest incarnation of rage head-on. You turned a war destined for total defeat into a strategic miracle, glorious despite defeat. You profoundly embodied the ultimate essence of "sacrifice" and "protection."]

[Reward Obtained: Permanent Passive Ability—[Undying Spark].]

[Ability Effect: Your soul will become like an eternal Hearth. Any being who follows you will be ignited by your flames, gaining unshakable courage and absolute loyalty to you. They will regard dying for you as the highest honor. At the same time, when you die, you may choose to detonate your soul, using the souls of all followers "ignited" by you as fuel to unleash one final soul explosion powerful enough to harm a god.]

[Detected: Host has obtained three permanent passive abilities.]

[[The Father's Gaze and Love] (Nurgle Type)]

[[Heretic Leader] (Chaos Gods Type)]

[[Undying Spark] (Emperor/Human Faith Type)]

[Final evolution conditions met.]

[Beginning ability fusion...]

[Determining fusion direction...]

[Determination complete.]

[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained the passive ability—[Primordial Flame].]

[Ability Effect: Your soul is like a flame. When facing groups with weak wills, those living at the bottom of society, or those carrying despair, this effect will be greatly enhanced. They will tend to trust you and see you as hope for changing their circumstances. Your words and ideas are highly penetrating, allowing you to easily discover cracks in the faith of a group or civilization. You may plant your ideas like seeds. You possess extremely high resistance to harsh environments, enabling you to survive for extended periods in desperate situations. Your resilience will greatly inspire nearby followers, allowing them to erupt with a stronger will to survive. Any life willing to follow you will have its soul "lit" by your flames and become an Ember. They will gain extraordinary courage and loyalty. When you die, these soul Embers will automatically self-detonate, gathering into a powerful soul shockwave. Its strength depends on the number and loyalty of your followers.]

[All rewards have been settled.]

[Beginning rebirth...]

[The Fourth Life is about to begin...]