The Butcher stood on the roof of an abandoned building, looking down at the line of infected people being burned, and sighed deeply.
He has always been a normal human being with normal emotions and moral values.
Watching so many living people being thrown into the fire and burned alive like numb livestock filled him with unbearable pain and torment.
But he also knew that this was the best solution at the moment.
There is no cure for the Chaos Plague; once infected, there is no chance of recovery.
If these infected individuals are not completely eradicated, the plague will spread endlessly and eventually destroy the entire Brevis.
Lynn's methods, though cold, cruel, and even "atrocious," were the only way to save more people.
"Governor, everything is proceeding according to plan," the Butcher said respectfully to Lynn behind him as he turned around.
Lynn stood in the shadows, his face expressionless, simply watching the flickering flames below.
"How's the screening of healthy individuals going?" Lynn asked.
"We've screened out 500 million people and transferred them all to the quarantine zone in Midtown," the Butcher replied.
"At this rate, we can gather the remaining 1.7 billion people in another ten days."
"Very good." Lynn nodded. "Speed up, there are more and more infected people."
"Yes."
Lynn didn't say anything more and turned to leave the rooftop.
His figure disappeared into the dark stairwell, appearing lonely and resolute.
He knew his hands were stained with blood.
But he had no other choice.
In this dark and cruel 40K universe, to survive and protect those you care about, you must become colder than anyone else.
However, just as Lynn was taking decisive action to deal with the plague and heresy, several eyes lurking in the deepest shadows were silently watching everything.
In an inconspicuous corner of the Lower City, a man in black wearing a tattered cloak was using an encrypted communicator to send a message to another man in black.
They relayed the message in segments, one after another, until it finally reached the Saint Garus Castle.
"Target: Kerry von, Governor Brevis "
"Abnormal behavior, secretly establishing the 'Plague Purification' cult, and making extensive use of inhuman armed forces to deal with the plague."
"Members of the cult are suspected of possessing non-human characteristics; further investigation is needed."
"The evidence has been destroyed. Further instructions are requested."
After sending the last message, the man in black didn't hesitate to rip off his mask, revealing a face covered in pustules and sores.
A hint of blue light shone deep in his eyes, and a day before the operation, he deliberately contracted the plague and infiltrated the Plague Cleansing Cult's cremation team.
He glanced at the Plague Cleansing Cult approaching from afar, a resolute smile appearing on his lips.
He turned and walked step by step toward the burning cremation pit.
The flames instantly engulfed his body, turning him and all the evidence to ashes.
The Plague Cleansing Cult nearby merely glanced at it indifferently, without any suspicion.
Every day, countless desperate infected people voluntarily choose to jump into cremation pits to end their suffering.
Even the most perceptive Genestealer failed to detect this informant on his deathbed.
When the informant's body was burned to ashes in the cremation pit.
The encrypted message had been transmitted along the most secretive paths, layer by layer, to the deepest secret chambers of Saint Garus Castle.
The stone door to the secret chamber was several meters thick, isolating it from all the noise and light of the Uptown Hive City.
Several yellowed parchment sheets were spread out on the stone table, the writing on them seemingly "coming alive," constantly changing and automatically recording all the recent unusual events in the Lower City.
The speed of the plague's spread, the expansion trajectory of the Plague Cleansing Cult, and those swift and perceptive " Plague-Cleansing Apostles."
Luna stood before the stone table, her pale fingers lightly tracing the words "inhuman characteristics," a chilling smile playing on her lips.
She wore a long, dark blue robe, and the half-mask beneath the hood gleamed with a faint golden light.
"You will eventually pay the price for your arrogance, Lynn..."
Her voice was soft, but her tone was more venomous than any snake's.
Every piece of information on the parchment seemed to confirm her judgment.
Lynn Corvana, from beginning to end, relied on superhuman strength to deal with trouble.
In the past, it was the Dragon of Frost and the Frost Soldier disguised as creatures of native mythology; now, the plague is controlled by Genestealer.
In Luna's grand plan, the plague that swept through the Lower City was always just an appetizer.
At most, it disrupts Brevis's order and drains Lynn's energy, but it cannot damage his foundation.
What truly dragged Lynn into an abyss of no return was his growing dependence on the Tyranids.
From the Forbidden Wall to Carl II, and now to Lower City Brevis, each time he resolves a crisis, he delves deeper into the Imperium's taboos.
The truth will eventually come out; as long as he continues to use these monsters, he will eventually be exposed.
All she had to do was give it a gentle push, making the fire burn faster and brighter, until it burned Lynn and all his secrets to ashes.
" The Plague Cleansing Cult..." Luna squeezed her fingers harder, and the parchment was squeezed until a black soul emerged, emitting a painful howl.
"Perfect, let's use it as the first fuse."
She raised her head and gave an order to someone in the shadows of the secret room. Immediately, someone bowed and accepted the order, then silently withdrew.
The secret room fell silent again, with only Luna's laughter drifting softly, carrying a chilling air of certain victory.
Meanwhile, the central starport of Brevis Prime Hive Uptown shrouded in a somber, deathly silence.
The smooth alloy floor clearly reflects people's images, and in the distance are gilded spires that pierce the clouds, with countless elevators going up and down from the Uptown to the Lower City.
That's not just an elevator, but a staircase that many people can never cross in their entire lives.
The air was free of the lingering fumes and stench of the Lower City, only the cool, refreshing scent of disinfectant and ozone.
This was Lower City could never imagine in their entire lives; it was a sacred place that, according to legend, only the "upper class" were qualified to set foot in.
But the people of Lower City set foot on this land at this moment showed no envy or excitement on their faces, only a deep-seated numbness.
They were ragged, emaciated, and driven onto the tarmac by heavily armed police, forming a long, seemingly endless line.
The group included elderly people with gray hair, teenagers with childlike innocence, and women with vacant eyes.
In Hive City, anyone between the ages of sixteen and fifty and without any obvious physical disability was eligible for the Tithe.
No one told them where they were going, nor what they would face in the future.
But everyone chosen knew in their hearts that the moment they stepped onto the boarding stairs, they would never come back.
The average battlefield survival time for Imperium Astra Militarum recruits is fifteen hours.
Less than one-tenth of the people survived the first battle.
These two numbers perfectly illustrate the brutality of the Warhammer universe.