Number One's head snapped up. Psychic light burst from his eyes, illuminating his black tiger mask.
The two Greater Psykers' gazes collided, and the air faintly warped.
"Don't try to scour someone's soul whenever you hear important intelligence. It's dangerous." Number Four seemed accustomed to Number One's behavior, or perhaps he simply had excellent emotional control.
"Sorry, but... he's still alive!"
"Really?"
"Really."
Number One breathed a long sigh of relief inwardly. The endless negotiations and chaos would finally end. With that man back, a proper arrangement was certain to be made here.
Evan was now strolling leisurely along streets that were both familiar and unfamiliar, filled with mixed feelings.
I told you bastards to learn from Atris. Why did you copy the North Pole Fortress's parade avenue too?
The people coming and going on the streets looked at the Astartes as though they had spotted their savior, and immediately... came up to bow.
It was giving Evan a headache. I told you not to kneel, so you switched to bowing a full 180 degrees? You're practically folding yourselves into sandwiches.
Now both sides of the street were lined with bowing people, leaving a long, empty strip down the middle and a "lonely" Evan.
It looked less like a triumphant hero's welcome and more like they were seeing Evan off to his burial.
Unable to bear it any longer, Evan headed straight for the local headquarters building, where Lian Leilo—the leader of the Astartes stationed across twelve worlds—and the local leaders were waiting.
Evan kicked the doors open. A welcoming ceremony had already been prepared inside.
"Lian Leilo, you've got some nerve, making me come to you!"
Who was Lian Leilo? One of the first generation of warriors Evan had trained. How could he not understand what his Chapter Master