"A C'tan Shard?" Alexei looked at the silent knight before him with surprise. "Where did you get this information?"
"Cough, cough..." Atol coughed for a long while. Even though his chest was protected by thick power armor, the spot where he had just been kicked with immense force by the man in front of him still throbbed with pain. After a moment of recovery, he spoke. "...While we were hunting a band of traitors in the Eastern Fringe, we discovered a decaying, rotting world."
"A decaying, rotting world?" Alexei repeated in a low voice.
"Yes, cough... everything on that world was a hollow shell. Rusted steel, withered vegetation, humans turned to dry bone," Atol said, looking into Alexei's golden eyes. "Upon our arrival, everything on the planet turned to ash before our eyes, leaving behind nothing but a silent, gray surface."
Alexei fell into deep thought. He couldn't recall a C'tan in his memory with such an ability—or rather, he wasn't familiar with this particular shard—but this power sounded remarkably like Nurgle.
Atol watched the contemplative Alexei and continued, "After that, we kept heading toward the Segmentum Obscurus. Along the way, we found many similar planets, until that Great Rift spanning the galaxy tore open. We were forced to halt our search and engage in battle with the Archenemy..."
"Wait," Alexei interrupted, catching a detail in the other man's words. "'We'? You aren't alone?"
"...I am now," a hint of relief flickered in Atol's eyes. "My battle-brothers washed away their shame in combat against the traitors. Their duty is ended."
Alexei remained silent, and Atol didn't seem to mind, speaking again. "Later, I discovered this phenomenon again within a system in this sector. It was a Forge World. Every creation upon it had turned to embers. I could sense it was caused by that same power." He paused, tapping a finger on the ground. "Then, I came to this sector capital looking for clues, and well, things ended up like this. Cough..."
"I have one more question I'm curious about. How did you travel between sectors alone?" Alexei asked, looking at the coughing Fallen Angel.
"Heh, I have my ways..." Atol gave a short laugh and then fell silent.
Just then, the sound of footsteps signaled the return of Allie and the others. Alexei turned to see the Aiel Household Guard approaching with nearly a hundred men, women, and children. "Is this all that's left?"
"Yes, I swept the area again thoroughly with psychic energy." Allie floated out from the group and nodded.
"Alright, take them back to the ship first." Alexei turned back to the Fallen Angel. "So, how about it? Come with us. I happen to be interested in that C'tan Shard as well."
"And if I refuse?" Atol countered.
"I happened to meet a squad of Dark Angels during the defense of Cadia." Alexei shrugged with an indifferent expression.
"Aren't you afraid I'll turn on you?" Atol said, only to see Alexei and Allie exchange a look that clearly said: 'What kind of nonsense is this guy talking?'
"Fine, it seems I have no choice." He used his power sword to prop up his massive frame. "Let's go."
"Giving up just like that? I thought you'd struggle a bit more," Alexei said with a smile.
"I don't mind allying with an enemy of Chaos." Atol sheathed his power sword on his back. "I can let go of a ten-thousand-year grudge; everything else is trivial, so long as I can slay traitors in the name of Lion."
"Of course, I hate those bastards too. Welcome to the Aiel fleet." Alexei slapped the power armor of the towering Calibanite knight. Clang! Clang! Clang!
Inside the iron fortress atop the mountain, the room that had once been filled with the stench of decay had been restored. The window was slightly ajar, allowing thin rays of sunlight and a light breeze to drift toward Beowulf, the Sector Governor, lying in bed.
The severe ulcerations on his skin had been cured by the Aiel medics in white power armor, and the linens were fresh. Aside from a body severely emaciated by disease and plague, he had returned to the state of a normal human.
Now, Beowulf leaned against the sunlight from the window, carefully reading the report in his hands. Originally, the outer districts of this iron fortress had almost entirely fallen, with only the high walls of the inner city barely holding back the enemy's assault.
The Plague Marines invading this planet rarely acted personally. Instead, they used tides of Poxwalkers to drain ammunition and microscopic bacteria to weaken the defenders' bodies before striking a concentrated blow to break the lines. Their tactics had been consistently successful—until the reinforcements arrived.
White power armor blocked the spread of the plague, black power armor stood like high walls against every enemy charge, and red power armor turned all impurities to ash with purifying flames. Those terrifying warships destroyed everything in their path with unstoppable might.
Beowulf lifted his head and leaned back against the headboard with his eyes closed. His current physical state was no longer enough to support long hours of administrative work.
"Aiel, is it..." He remembered the name. A Hive World that had suffered a rebellion, which was then suppressed. The new Governor had repelled a Tyranid Hive Fleet, and the fleet sent to collect taxes had gone missing.
"Cough, cough, cough..." He coughed violently. A medic in white power armor outside the door rushed in. "I'm fine," Beowulf waved him off, his eyes deep as he watched the figure exit the room.
His personal guard had been entirely replaced by Aiel Household Guards, and even his close attendants were now Aiel personnel. How could a man who had held power for decades not understand the meaning behind these moves?
But what could he do? Beowulf struggled to pull himself up and walk to the window. He looked up at the sky, torn apart by a shimmering rift. Among the remaining Planetary Defense Forces, every high-ranking officer had handed over their power under the "persuasion" or physical coercion of the Aiel forces, becoming commanders in title only.
"Perhaps this is for the best..." He looked down at the tall soldiers in black power armor patrolling below. "I'll leave it to you then, Hero..." He turned and walked with staggering steps back to the bed, tossing the parchment reports onto the floor. He was tired. He wanted to have a good sleep.