Then he activated the all-channel broadcast.
His voice rang out across every communications channel.
"Stop!"
The Minotaurs warriors, in the midst of their frenzied slaughter, froze as though someone had pressed pause.
The Sons of Sorrow warriors, barely holding out, also stopped their weapons in astonishment.
Just then, several new fleets translated into the Optera system from different directions. They had come in response to the Sons of Sorrow's distress signal. These were Chapters with a strong sense of honor, who had dealt with the Sons of Sorrow on the battlefields of Badab and held them in respect.
The Red Scorpions' Strike Cruisers.
The Salamanders' Battle Barges.
And several other Chapters equally renowned for their honor and loyalty.
They had expected a brutal battle to break through and rescue their allies. But what greeted them upon translation was a profoundly bizarre sight.
The entire battlefield had fallen deathly silent.
And every warship's main screen displayed the same image-
On the devastated bridge of the Minotaurs' flagship, a Sons of Sorrow warrior wreathed in pure golden flames stood with one foot planted on the body of the legendary, invincible Asterion Moloc. Framed by the shattered throne and wreckage strewn across the floor, his golden figure resembled a wrathful deity stepping out of ancient myth to pass judgment on sin.
The utterly pure "golden light of the Emperor" radiating from him was so dazzling, so sacred, that every Astartes who saw it felt an uncontrollable awe and trembling deep within his soul.
"Is that... the Emperor incarnate?" a young Salamanders warrior murmured.
No one answered him. But all the Loyalist Chapters that had arrived silently cut their engines. Not a single ship made an aggressive move. They merely watched in silence, bearing witness to a sight that overturned everything they thought they