Belonging to Every Baalite

Dante had originally wanted to speak. He had already raised the communicator to his mouth, but when he looked up and his gaze fell on Lin En's face through the hologram, the words in his mouth involuntarily became:

"Uh... Lord Lin En, what are you wearing on your face?"

Lin En raised a hand to adjust his beloved little sunglasses, then waved it dismissively. "Ah, just a little accessory my sister gave me. Don't mind it. Let's talk business."

"Understood." Dante obediently sat up straight in the communication display, like an elementary school student called on by his teacher.

Then he thought seriously for a moment before saying hesitantly, "This doesn't seem right..."

This was clearly the defense of their homeworld, yet they were sitting in wheelchairs?

Dante carefully chose his words. "Letting an outsider like you stand at the very front while we hide in the rear... Forgive me, Lord Lin En, but we truly... cannot live with ourselves."

The honest man was putting pressure on himself again.

Lin En looked at the honest, hardworking old ox of a Blood Angel on the other side of the call.

Dante sat aboard his flagship, the Wrath of Absolution. Behind him was a massive holographic star map, while he clenched the communicator in his hand. His expression looked painfully miserable, and his furrowed brows could have crushed a fly.

Lin En smiled. "There's no need to feel guilty, Lord Dante. One of my greatest wishes in life is to kill every Tyranid in the galaxy. I'd be more than happy to intercept them ahead of time."

"But..."

"We'll go first. If we can't handle the Hive Fleet, then you can come reinforce us."

"But..."

Dante tightened his grip on the communicator.

"Please." Lin En raised a hand to cut him off,