"Researching heretical technology is a capital offense, Brother Nur."
In the underground passage, Charlie held his bolter as he walked at the head of the squad.
His pace was measured, each step landing on broken conduits and dust-covered flooring with barely a sound.
The muzzle pointed slightly ahead and to one side, moving steadily as his gaze swept every shadowed corner.
His voice emerged from his helmet's built-in speaker, not stern, but somewhat subdued.
"I know, Brother Charlie." Nur walked in the middle of the squad, still holding the wreckage of the drone he had half dismantled.
He answered calmly without taking his eyes off the screen. "That is also why we came to the Ultramarines Legion."
Charlie said nothing.
He fell silent for a moment, a dark glimmer passing through the eyes beneath his helmet.
As one of the few members of the Legion whose memories had not been wiped, Charlie occasionally recalled names and faces that left no trace in the official records.
All he knew was that the lord of the Eleventh Legion had been dealt with, not executed.
He had never pressed anyone on the matter, but those words had remained in his memory.
To them, the implication was that the lord of the Eleventh Legion might very well still be alive.
As long as those words had not been consumed by the flames of the Emperor's wrath, as long as the door to the Imperial Palace Black Cells still stood deep within the palace, the story of that erased Primarch could never truly be brought to an end.
"If you know that, then why..." Charlie did not turn around, a hint of tentative hesitation in his voice.
"Because I want to atone, Brother Charlie." Nur picked up where he left off. He had rehearsed this