Chapter 456: Cutting Away Guilt
"What is this?" Alpharius took the module, his eyes flickering with doubt.
"I hate the Emperor, and I loathe the Imperium he created." Solas retrieved his Coiling Dragon Staff and stood among his sons, pointing at the Rangdan core in Bul-Kathos's hand. "But that doesn't mean I like xenos."
"The Rangdan Empire, the Imperium of Man—in my heart, there is no difference between the two."
With that, Solas nodded, signaling the Doom Slayer to kill the Rangdan brain. "Kill it. The Rangdan fleet has entered realspace. They communicate through psychic waves; the connection must be severed."
Bul-Kathos did not know the Primarch's true stance, but he did not hesitate. He crushed the Rangdan brain in his grip.
"Inside that module is Rangdan intelligence," Solas said to Alpharius. "It is detailed, recording everything I know."
"I shall return to the Rangdan, bringing with me the intelligence I have on the Imperium."
Alpharius couldn't help but tighten his grip on the module, staring at Solas. "Making the Imperium and the Rangdan transparent to each other, forcing them into a fight to the death to annihilate one another... is this what you wanted?"
"Yes." Solas did not deny it, admitting his scheme. "This universe is shrouded in darkness. Even setting aside personal feelings, I wish to see it utterly destroyed."
"Brother," his gaze grew meaningful, his words veiled. "I understand the truth of the universe far better than you do."
"..."
Alpharius's curiosity was piqued, and he opened his mouth to ask, but Solas had no intention of saying more.
He turned to his loyal sons, a gratified smile appearing on his face, devoid of his usual gloom. "You have done well. You are not fractured like I am."
"Wishing to be close to my brothers, yet swayed by hatred; wishing for a swift revenge, yet tethered by brotherly affection."
"In truth, I am a coward. I never firmly chose a side or followed through on a path."
"Since you have made your choice, we shall have no further dealings with one another."
"Enas," he called out once more. The First Captain stepped forward, facing his genetic father in silence.
"I have not yet been stripped of my authority. I command you once again as Legion Master: lead the Second Legion in loyalty to the Imperium."
Enas did not answer. He knelt—not toward his genetic father, but in salute to the authority the Primarch still held.
At that moment, Legion warriors entered the council chambers, escorting the man who had sabotaged the warp engines.
"Release him," Enas spoke, ordering his brothers to free the traitor so he could go to the genetic father's side.
The two halves of the Second Legion stared at each other across the hall, treading on the blood of brothers, with countless corpses of their kin lying between them.
On the holographic displays, the other ships activated their warp engines and vanished from realspace, leaving the Legion flagship alone.
The Rangdan ships did not pursue the fleeing fleet. A Battle Moon deployed high-speed vessels, closing in on the Gloriana-class battleship to retrieve their target.
"Now then," Solas looked around, confirming all his followers were by his side. He activated the Coiling Dragon Staff's disintegration field, a look of sorrow surfacing in his silver-grey eyes. "It is time for the final farewell—"
To the shock of the loyalists, the genetic father swung his war staff, sweeping through the followers beside him and cutting those caught off-guard in half at the waist.
The Legion traitors never expected this. They had stood loyally by their Primarch's side, only to meet such an end!
Severed limbs flew; the expressions of disbelief on the traitors' faces were frozen in time as their bodies tumbled, their eyes never leaving their genetic father.
Their bewildered stares seemed to ask: Why?
Solas stood supported by his staff, eyes tightly shut, not daring to meet his sons' questioning gazes. His chest heaved violently.
He deactivated his sensory systems, his face as grim as black iron, his arms trembling as he gripped his weapon.
"One betrayer is enough!" The Primarch suppressed his grief, speaking to himself yet loud enough for every warrior to hear. "They were loyal warriors. It was I who led that loyalty astray. I shall bear all the guilt."
"Warriors of the Second Legion should not stand with the Rangdan to attack the Imperium of Man."
The council chamber fell into a heavy silence. The loyalists had won a total victory, yet no cheers were heard.
The Primarch's actions were easy to understand. He did not want his sons to bear his sins or be nailed to a pillar of shame; he chose to execute his followers himself.
Alpharius shook his head slowly. The brother before him was too fractured, his soul ground to dust by hatred.
Solas chose to leave, then purged everything related to himself from the Second Legion, leaving behind a pure bloodline loyal to the Imperium—this, too, was a form of restitution.
"That it should come to this—" Solas's voice choked. His gaze swept over the remains of his sons, and he said no more.
He turned and left.
His figure gradually vanished into the darkness. No one blocked the Primarch's path.
The Legion warriors knelt, bidding a final farewell to their genetic father. From this moment on, there would be no more ties between them; the next time they met, they would be mortal enemies.
A shuttle left the side of the battleship and entered the Rangdan vessel.
"My Lord, shall we launch an attack on the humans?"
As Solas boarded the Battle Moon, a Rangdan Warmaster knelt within a holographic projection, asking for the next move.
Retrieving the target and destroying a human Gloriana-class ship—two great merits achieved at once—was an obvious temptation.
"Do as you wish." Solas did not stop, clutching his side as he walked toward the rest quarters. As his figure vanished around a corner, his warning echoed through the corridor: "If you don't want the mission to end in failure."
"Fleet, set sail. Return to the Empire." The Fleet Warmaster thought for a moment, took one last look at the human ship, and ordered the fleet to leave.
The human ship was undergoing emergency repairs, their fleet was waiting in the warp, and reinforcements were certainly on the way.
If they rashly attacked and failed to secure a quick victory, the fleet might find itself surrounded by humans.
The reward was tempting, but the risk was higher. Now that the vital target was recovered, it was best to act steadily. An error in the next move would carry too heavy a price.
The Rangdan fleet engaged their warp engines and vanished from realspace. On the Gloriana-class ship, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Letting Solas leave was the right choice. If they had insisted on holding him, the Rangdan would have launched boarding actions. Once they realized the true state of the Second Legion, a heavily wounded Legion might have faced total annihilation.
The Second Legion was currently at its most vulnerable and could not withstand a Rangdan assault.
The Imperium had suffered heavy losses, but in a sense, the gains were no less significant than capturing Solas. A detailed dossier of Rangdan intelligence was enough for the Imperium to reassess the threat and develop countermeasures.
"Keep it safe." Alpharius tossed the storage module to Bul-Kathos. "Deliver it properly to the frontline headquarters."
His body rapidly shrank, becoming no different from an ordinary Astartes. He bid the Legion warriors farewell: "Mission accomplished. I am leaving."
With that, the Primarch turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving the blood-soaked battlefield.
As the Primarchs departed one by one, the messenger groups in the council chamber bid farewell to the Legion Master, heading to their respective stations to distance themselves from the wounds of a brother Legion.
The Choir of Astropaths became busy as the messengers sent astropathic messages to their respective Legions using secret codes.
When the cryptic messages reached the Legions, the Primarchs decoded them. Shocked by the news, they could only shake their heads in regret.
Seven Terran days later, Roboute Guilliman, the closest at hand, arrived. The Lord of Macragge took temporary command of the Second Legion, defending the First and Second War Zones.
Solas's betrayal was buried.
Aside from the Primarchs, the news the other Legion warriors received was: a massive Rangdan fleet had ambushed the Warmaster, half the Second Legion's strength was lost, and the Primarch was missing in the chaos of battle.
Without a Warmaster to coordinate, there was no need for the messengers to remain.
Bul-Kathos handed the Rangdan intelligence to the Master of the Ultramarines, bid farewell to the other messenger groups, and boarded a Nur-class fast ship with his brothers toward the Shana System.
Ten more Terran days passed. The Bucephelus arrived at the Second War Zone. The Master of Mankind descended, personally overseeing the Rangdan War from the front.
Upon learning of Solas's rebellion, his face remained expressionless. He showed no rage, only ordering a gathering of the Primarchs.
In the magnificent palace of the Bucephelus, a long golden table rose from the floor. The Emperor himself sat at the head, radiating brilliant light, reviewing the Rangdan intelligence with his sons.
Moribas Solas, the rebellious son, had left a great gift before cutting ties with the Imperium.
The Rangdan Empire, located in the outer expansion of the Eastern Fringe, was an immense interstellar empire, slightly larger in scale than the Imperium's current borders.
The Rangdan core species stood supreme, using cerebral fluids to control and enslave other races. Dozens of different xenos species performed various roles, forming the low and middle tiers of the empire.
The high tier consisted of Rangdan elite warriors, Overlords, and Warmasters. At the very top, there were indeed ultimate lifeforms—the Rangdan Sovereigns.
Twelve Rangdan Sovereigns possessed power and wisdom comparable to Primarchs, ruling the entire Rangdan Empire.
The true Rangdan elite forces had never appeared on the battlefield. The Rangdan had been hiding their strength, waiting for the most critical moment to deal the Imperium of Man a fatal blow.
"The Warrior King has arrived."