Beyond the gangway lay a frozen ocean of steel and faith.
Tens of thousands of Battle Sisters, clad in power armor as black as night, filled the entire Sanctuary Plaza like a silent legion of statues rising from the depths of hell. Their helmets were a holy white, and the red capes on their shoulders were like flowing blood. The gaze of every single one of them, directed through their helmet visors, converged into a cold, sharp, high-pressure torrent filled with scrutiny and hostility, pressing down hard upon the slowly opening hatch of the genesis.
In the air, the cold scent of metal hung heavy, mixed with the thick aroma of incense and ozone.
For mortals, this pressure was a mental deterrent, but for Terrania, it was a form of torture.
"Sister... it hurts..."
Terrania's small, cold hand tightly gripped Leticia's snow-white robe, her knuckles turning white from the exertion. Her small face, which always carried purity and dependence, was now as pale as death, and her pure eyes, brilliant as flowing gold, were filled with extreme terror.
Her small body was trembling uncontrollably and violently in Leticia's arms.
Leticia understood immediately.
Terrania's soul was like the purest, most perfect mirror in the universe. Meanwhile, the tens of thousands of Sisters outside had spent their entire lives in the most fanatical and paranoid prayers; their faith had long since been honed into sharp, aggressive mental blades.
At this moment, these tens of thousands of mental blades were focusing inward without reservation, like searchlights.
To Terrania, this faith field—vast enough to warp reality—was no different from having her soul scorched over a fire, or having tens of thousands of steel needles piercing into her mind simultaneously.
"Don't be afraid, Nia."
Leticia immediately held the trembling little one tighter, using her petite yet incredibly solid frame to shield her completely. The pinkish-purple glow of Divine Charm on her body unfolded quietly like the gentlest of barriers, isolating Terrania from most of the pain.
"I'm here."
Through their soul link, her voice turned into a warm stream, soothing Terrania's consciousness which was on the verge of collapse.
Angronia took a step forward, her tall frame like a red mountain blocking the side in front of Leticia. Beneath her loose black tank top, her bronzed, athletic arms rippled with muscle, and in her amber eyes, a crimson-gold Battle Intent had already begun to burn uncontrollably. If those "tin cans" outside made any suspicious move, she would not hesitate to show them what true "fury" meant.
Fogremia stood elegantly on the other side. Her moon-white gown seemed out of place in this somber atmosphere, yet she remained as proud as a solitary moon atop a snowy peak. Her deep purple eyes swept contemptuously over the black ocean below, her lips curling into a faint, imperceptible sneer.
"A group of pitiful creations of craftsmanship, bound by dogma. The deity they have spent their entire lives pursuing is right before their eyes, yet they greet her with swords."
Leticia ignored the thoughts of her two Primarch Sisters.
She simply lowered her head and gently pressed a kiss upon the small forehead shrouded in fear.
Then, she took Terrania's cold little hand and, with an unquestionable and gentle strength, led her step by step down the gangway.
Out of the protection of the genesis.
Into that suffocating ocean composed of scrutiny, hostility, and fanaticism.
When their figures fully appeared on the Sanctuary Plaza, the entire world seemed to have been muted.
Tens of thousands of gazes, like physical blades, scraped against their bodies.
Leticia's snow-white robe fluttered gently in the breeze, her jet-black hair falling like the night sky. Her countenance possessed a transcendent, god-like perfection, but at this moment, against the backdrop of this forest of steel, she appeared so fragile, as if she would be swallowed by this somber atmosphere in the next second.
Beside her, Angronia and Fogremia—one as violent as fire, the other as elegant as ice—had such strong presences, yet they still could not dilute the collective will of those tens of thousands of Sisters, which felt like a landslide or a tsunami.
Everyone's focus eventually fell upon the golden-haired little girl half-shielded in Leticia's arms, her face barely visible.
Was that the mysterious girl mentioned in the reports, the one surrounded by others and suspected to be the core of the miracle?
She looks... so weak.
Just then.
Terrania's small foot, clad only in a simple white soft shoe, finally left the cold metal gangway and stepped gently onto the square's floor, which was paved with pure white marble and polished like a mirror.
At the moment of contact.
Boom—!!!
It wasn't a physical explosion, but a silent yet world-shaking holy blast originating from the dimension of the soul!
Centered on Terrania's body, a pure golden radiance—whose brilliance and holiness were beyond words—swept through the entire Sanctuary Plaza like a supernova!
This radiance was not blinding; instead, it was incredibly gentle.
It carried the temperature of a newborn universe, the fragrance of all things reviving, and the gentlest call from a mother that every wanderer hears in their dreams.
It ignored the barrier of power armor, ignored the steel-like wills, and ignored all the cold walls built by dogma called "discipline" and "duty."
Like a warm spring rain, it fell softly into the parched, hardened depths of the souls of every Battle Sister present, souls filled with scars and pain.
Standing at the very front of the phalanx was Sister Katerina, the leader of the Order of the Bloody Rose.
She was a veteran warrior with a hideous claw scar remaining on her face, and her eyes were as sharp as a hawk's. She had spent her life in prayer, battle, and asceticism; her will was harder than the power armor she wore.
However, when that golden radiance touched her soul, her steel-like will melted silently in an instant, like snow under the sun.
Her hand, which had been gripping the Bolter tightly, unconsciously loosened.
She saw it.
She saw herself as an orphan, shivering in the ruins of a Hive City amidst the flames of war, clutching her knees.
She saw herself being adopted by the Order, undergoing training so rigorous it was almost cruel day after day, covering all her tears and weakness with prayers and scars.
She saw herself countless times in her dreams, praying to that cold, distant skeleton on the Golden Throne, longing for even a sliver of a response, only to receive an even deeper, deathly silence.
And now...
The response had come.
That golden radiance was like a pair of the gentlest hands, softly embracing the little girl crying in the ruins.
It smoothed over all the scars deep in her soul and comforted the loneliness and confusion of her decades.
It told her—
"My child, you have suffered."
"Come back."
"Return to my side."
A hot tear fell fiercely from Katerina's scarred eye.
Then came a second drop, a third...
The Bolter in her hand made a dull thud as it hit the polished marble floor heavily.
"Clang—!"
This loud noise was like a signal.
Within the phalanx, one Battle Sister after another let go of the weapons in their hands.
Heavy Bolters, Flamers, Chainswords... like scrap metal abandoned by their owners, they clattered to the ground everywhere.
Suppressed sobs began to spread through the military formation.
Soon, the sobbing turned into uncontrollable, loud weeping.
They cried like children, crying their hearts out, crying with abandon.
They were not crying out of sadness.
They were crying out of the ecstasy of "belonging" and "solace" from the deepest part of their souls, a feeling that was ten thousand years late!
Their souls, bound by dogma and discipline, were finally liberated at this moment!
Katerina's knees could no longer support her body, which was trembling from the extreme emotional shock.
With a "thud," she knelt heavily on the ground, her thick power armor knees making a dull resonance against the hard marble.
She raised her head and, through tear-filled eyes, looked toward the source of that golden radiance.
That small, golden figure protected in the arms of the black-haired goddess.
She finally saw clearly.
That was not weakness.
That was... the most extreme, concentrated, and holy origin in the universe!
That was no suspicious miracle.
That was... the deity they had prayed to day and night and to whom they had dedicated their lives, descending before them in the flesh, in the gentlest and most merciful form they had never imagined!
All dogma and all doubt turned to dust at this moment.
Katerina used all her strength to slam her forehead hard against the cold ground.
Then, with a raspy voice mixed with sobbing, ecstasy, and hysteria, she let out the loudest and most devout roar of her life—
"Living Saint—!!!"
"It's the Living Saint!! The Emperor... no! It's the Holy Empress!! She has answered our prayers! She has returned—!!!"
This roar was like lighting the fuse of a powder keg.
Tens of thousands of Battle Sisters seemed to be awakened by this divine oracle.
They knelt one after another, the ocean of black steel turning into a black tide of devout pilgrimage.
They abandoned their weapons, abandoned their pride, and abandoned everything from their past.
They prostrated themselves, pressing their foreheads tightly against the ground, offering their purest and most fanatical faith to their god, to their mother!
In the entire Sanctuary Plaza, there was nothing but that golden sea of light and the deafening sounds of worship mixed with weeping and prayer.
However, amidst this atmosphere so holy it was almost frozen, a sharp, piercing roar filled with extreme fear and anger suddenly exploded like the barking of a mad dog.
"Sorcery!!"
Standing at the edge of the command platform, an Inquisitor dressed in magnificent deep-red Inquisition robes and wearing a pointed hat was pointing a trembling finger straight at Terrania below.
His face was distorted with fear and anger, his eyes bloodshot and red.
The world he believed in, constructed of order and dogma, had completely collapsed before this incomprehensible miracle filled with emotion and Hope.
This could never be a miracle of the Emperor! The Emperor was majestic, cold, and unquestionable!
So gentle, so full of mercy, so easily able to dismantle the will of the Empire's most loyal warriors...
This must be... must be a plot by the Chaos God who is best at manipulating hearts and Hope!
"It's a trick of Chaos God Tzeentch! It's a plot by that Lord of Change!!"
The Inquisitor screamed hysterically, spit flying everywhere.
"You blinded fools! That is a false god! A heretic!!"
He suddenly drew the Bolter pistol from his waist and aimed it at the golden figure below.
"Guards! Purge them! In the name of the Holy Inquisition, purge all contaminated heretics—!!!"
His roar seemed so weak, so... ridiculous amidst the fanatical prayers of the tens of thousands of Sisters.
Not a single person even looked back at him.
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