Gavriel Loken fled the ruins etched with chaotic patterns. The daemons pursued him relentlessly.
Screams echoed in his ears. They were so close he could smell the stench from the monsters' mouths and nostrils.
Occasionally, he would stop to fight.
After slaying the first few daemons, he would turn and flee again.
Fighting and escaping simultaneously. The two sides contended across the boundless wasteland.
"Does this damned wasteland have no end?"
Gavriel Loken looked at the endless wasteland, worried that these accursed daemons would chase him until he was exhausted, then collapse and die.
Such a death would be undignified, let alone contribute anything to his mission.
But he would not give up.
As long as he wasn't dead, he would persist.
As this thought emerged, the wasteland shattered like a mirror.
A wonderful, unobstructed landscape unfolded before him.
Snow-capped mountains, towering into the clouds, were draped with a shawl of pine and fir trees.
Magnificent, emerald-green forests stretched endlessly.
A cold, splashing river wound through them.
Fluffy-furred herbivores roamed the plains.
Warm sunlight bathed his face, and the soft grass beneath his feet felt exceptionally comfortable.
He had instantly transitioned from hell to heaven.
Even the daemons had vanished.
Gavriel Loken was bewildered, standing rooted to the spot. The scene change was so sudden.
It further indicated that this was definitely not the real world.
He might be trapped in the realm of some terrifying deity, becoming their plaything.
Realizing this, Gavriel Loken let out an angry roar.
"Don't ever think I will surrender to you, Chaos. Not in a thousand years, ten thousand years, or a million years, I will not yield."
There was no response.
Only whispers still echoed in the wind.
"Return."
"Return."
Like a mother calling her child home.
Gavriel Loken scanned his surroundings; there were no enemies.
He was in a paradise. Taking a deep breath, he could distinctly smell the pure air. The cold and sweet infusion into his lungs was like a fine vintage.
How beautiful this place was.
If he stayed, he could escape that terrible world.
Fruit trees laden with heavy, crimson fruits were visible everywhere.
As he continued forward, the ground gently rose, forming a steep cliff. The soothing sound of ocean waves hinted at a beautiful beach behind the cliff.
Gavriel Loken walked over, and the sight of the sky meeting the water brought some solace to his tormented soul.
Waves continuously crashed onto the beach.
Again and again.
Never stopping.
Erasing the traces left by his power boots on the sand.
Shells were scattered on the beach.
Gavriel Loken bent down and picked one up.
He had forgotten how long it had been since he had walked on a beach like this, picking up a shell with his unarmored hand.
Only in his childhood in Cthonia had he enjoyed such a luxury.
A somewhat shameless thought arose within him.
Stay.
He had dedicated his life to that war.
Fought his entire life for those poor souls.
He deserved some time for himself. To live for himself.
But this thought was quickly cast aside.
"I will never yield," Gavriel Loken murmured. "I pledge allegiance to the Imperium, I pledge allegiance to the Emperor, I fight for humanity."
He strode forward, resisting the tranquility this paradise offered him.
Duty was endless.
Any enjoyment was a sin, any indulgence a betrayal of his mission.
Gavriel Loken walked forward resolutely.
He harbored no lingering attachments.
Only duty filled his heart.
If Horus had taken Terra, he would avenge the Emperor and those who had died tragically at Horus' hands.
If the Emperor had won, he would continue to serve loyally. Those abominable things should never have come to the human world. Those damned traitors should never be forgiven. They all deserved to die.
Abaddon, Little Horus, Erebus, Kharn, Lucius, Eidolon, those bastards all deserved to die.
If they died, Gavriel Loken would spit on their graves.
If they didn't die, Gavriel Loken would find a way to kill them, and then spit on them.
"No peace, only duty."
Gavriel Loken walked forward step by step, unwavering, with no thoughts for this paradise.
As he advanced, the paradise he had no attachment to shattered.
A ruined world appeared before Gavriel Loken. The earth was scorched, covered in craters and various pits left by high-temperature energy weapons. The magnificent buildings had collapsed, riddled with bullet holes and explosion marks.
As far as the eye could see, there were human corpses, torn beyond recognition.
Golden double-headed eagle banners lay broken on the battlefield, and the black smoke of burning vehicle wreckage billowed upwards. The corpses and burning vehicles bore eagle and lightning decorations, and the familiar Imperial Aquila emblem. This was a tragic battlefield.
Gavriel Loken shouted, wanting to see if there were any survivors.
However, there were no survivors, only the dead. The sky was also burning.
Giant warships, comparable to mountains, burned in the sky. Their massive hulls slowly tilted, falling towards the ground, disintegrating under the pull of the planet's gravity. The wreckage, like fiery meteors, crashed into the surface from the atmosphere. The air was filled with radiation and corrosive chemicals. The scorched earth was covered in charred steel and abandoned buildings stained with blood.
Death permeated every corner. The world was destroyed.
Only the dead remained. The roars of daemons echoed through the ruins.
Occasionally, buildings covered in flesh could be seen, moving rhythmically as if alive.
Some of the dead were slowly being devoured. The entire world had been corrupted. Twisted daemons lurked in the dark corners.
"I will never yield, I pledge allegiance to the Imperium, I pledge allegiance to the Emperor, I fight for humanity."
"No peace, only duty."
Gavriel Loken let out an angry roar.
Even if humanity was destroyed, even if the Imperium fell.
Even if everything was irreversible.
He would not compromise, nor would he surrender.
He would be an eternal enemy of Chaos.
Until he could no longer fight, until he no longer existed in this world.
Gavriel Loken strode forward resolutely.
His sword held tight in his hand, his gaze firm.
He walked through the ruins covered in twisted flesh, the fire in his heart burning brightly.
Even if the world was destroyed, and only he remained as a human.
He would continue to fight.
No matter what happened, only battle. The daemons shrieked, enraged by this unyielding soul.
In this dark universe, only Chaos was eternal.
All life should submit to Chaos, go mad in the chaotic disorder, until the end of time. They burst forth from the ruins. The monsters had grotesque limbs and discordant senses. The one at the forefront wielded a giant battle-axe.
Its eyes were crimson, filled with brutality and cruelty.
Its carapaced legs were exceptionally strong.
Its skinless arms clearly showed bulging crimson muscles.
Dark red, bone-spiked plate armor covered half of its body, and chains used to secure the armor were visible where its skin was exposed.
A glowing red, horned helmet obscured its face. The helmet's visor had no eye-slits, replaced by a large, barbaric skull totem.
Its skin was covered in scars and skull-shaped tattoos, and it held an executioner's great axe.
Gavriel Loken let out an angry roar.
He charged alone into the tide of daemons.
"Do you think I will yield? Dream on."
His sword clashed with the monster's great axe, sending sparks flying. The immense impact generated a shockwave that slowly spread through the air. The monster roared, its form blurred by the visor. Their battle grew more intense.
Blade and axe collided hundreds of times in mere seconds, each impact producing the sound of metal striking metal.
Gavriel Loken found an opening.
He plunged his sword into the monster's heart. The monster let out pained wails, trembling as if electrocuted. The blade pierced through its chest, blood splattering. The monster swung its great axe, still trying to cleave Gavriel Loken's head off in its final moments.
He ducked, avoiding the monster's attack, and rolled away from the falling great axe, then slashed at its leg from behind. The sharp blade cleanly severed its right leg, causing the massive body to lose its support and collapse with a thud. The monster roared incessantly.
Gavriel Loken swung his sword, cut off its head, and then stomped it into a pulp.
More monsters surged out from the ruins. They were all different.
Some were hunched and emaciated, with tattered bat wings growing from their shoulders.
Others had hideous faces, their fanged, gaping mouths seemingly ready to devour everything. There were also some that crawled on slender limbs made of metal, with hook-like claws at their ends.
Gavriel Loken looked at their blood-red eyes and flashing claws. They charged forward one after another, the rushing air rustling around them.
Gavriel Loken swung his longsword, continuing to fight amidst the roars.
Everywhere he looked, there were throngs of daemons. Twisted limbs, trembling appendages, flapping wings, gaping mouths.
Sharp fangs and claws were crammed together. The daemons were endless.
Gavriel Loken felt no fear; he only felt the raging anger and fighting spirit burning within him.
As long as he drew breath, he would fight until the very last moment.
Hacking, striking, piercing, parrying.
He stomped on the daemons' limbs, shattered their teeth with his sword hilt, and severed their claws with his blade. The daemons crashed against his defenses in wave after wave, like a tide.
Before long, a large number of twisted daemonic limbs lay scattered on the ground.
Claws scraped against his armor, tearing the skin on his cheek. The daemons came fiercely, attempting to overwhelm him with their sheer numbers.
"Even in death, I will never compromise!" Gavriel Loken roared. The terrain behind him suddenly rose, revealing an unexpected staircase made of black stone.
It led to a magnificent grand city built high on a mountain.
Countless sacred songs emanated from that magnificent grand city.
It was as if billions of devout saints were singing. The sounds of war drums and horns mixed in, as if a million warriors were striking simultaneously, conveying an unyielding fighting spirit to the enemy.
Gavriel Loken took a step back, onto the sturdy black rock steps. The steps ascended all the way to that magnificent grand city.
Gavriel Loken, while swinging his longsword and killing the monsters that pursued too closely, retreated towards the grand city on the mountain.
He fled towards the mountain, all the while cutting down daemons.
And those daemons shrieked, trying to prevent him from entering that magnificent grand city. Time held no meaning at this moment. The mountain was endless, and that magnificent holy city was always at a seemingly reachable, yet ultimately unattainable, distance.
Gavriel Loken paid it no mind, dedicating his entire focus to the battle. Those memories also kept returning. That desperate rebellion, that war that buried everything.
Horus, my genefather, you will never be forgiven. Tears of agony streamed from Gavriel Loken's eyes.
Everything from the past tormented him. Those beautiful things that were utterly destroyed.
Gavriel Loken could never forget the first time he saw Horus.
He stood beside the Emperor, sacred radiance illuminating that handsome, resolute face, with infinite wisdom in his eyes. The look in his eyes towards the Emperor held boundless loyalty, and the love and trust of a child for his father.
What a beautiful era that was. They fought side by side, bringing the Emperor's salvation to those lost human worlds. The Great Crusade, a magnificent human endeavor never before seen across the entire galaxy.
It just ended like that.
"I remember your name, Gavriel Loken, your performance was outstanding."
"The Tenth Company is now in your hands."
"One day, we will end this war. Then, we will return to Cthonia and enjoy the beautiful world we created. You will die amidst the sorrowful cries of countless people."
"Rejoin the Sons of Horus."
"You have other choices."
The words Horus had once spoken continuously surfaced in his mind. The trust of yesteryear had transformed into the pain of betrayal.
Brother against brother, father against son.
Only ashes remained of everything.
Only ashes remained of everything.
Gavriel Loken let out a desperate roar.
But his body erupted with light. The endless staircase reached its end. The glorious grand city burst forth with dazzling flashes of light.
Light, mixed with gold, blue, and green, converged into a beam, piercing the churning sky-ocean.
Beams of light surged outwards. The daemons pursuing Gavriel Loken shrieked in pain, shattering like scattered clouds in a storm.
A terrifying inferno swept over, burning them into white ashes. The surging energy agitated the vast and eerie world, sending the daemon remnants flying and expelling them forever.
"Return."
"Return."
"Return."
The voices echoing in his ears grew stronger, as if many people were calling out to him.
Gavriel Loken looked at the magnificent city.
Its protective walls stretched to the distant horizon.
On the ancient, heavy walls, countless double-headed eagle insignias were carved.
He walked towards the city. The light that annihilated the daemons did not harm him; instead, it healed his wounds.
Before Gavriel Loken, a magnificent gate suddenly appeared on the tall, imposing city wall.
As if it had been specially prepared for him.
Guards in golden armor stood before the gate, their faces smiling. They showed respect to Gavriel Loken, who had endured a difficult journey. The city was enveloped in radiance, beautiful and spectacular.
Distinctly textured marble formed buildings filled with artistic flair.
Gothic, Baroque, Roman, Eastern Classical.
Walls, temples, colonnades, arched bridges.
Every architectural style that had appeared in human history could be seen in this grand city. They were distributed throughout the city in perfect harmony.
At the center of that grand city was a majestic and beautiful palace.
A giant radiating dazzling light sat on a colossal throne. The voices in Gavriel Loken's ears continuously echoed.
Letting him know that his final destination was there.
"Target: Gavriel Loken, loyal member of the Luna Wolves, trial completion 95.2%, recovery progress has reached 98%."
"Soul integrity is 93%, 80% of memories have been acquired."
"This target is eligible for the resurrection procedure."
"Proceed with resurrection?"
A piece of information popped up, appearing before a tech-priest.
After storing and archiving the relevant information, he picked up a data-slate and walked to the other side.
In a gigantic hall, the Emperor, wearing a complex protective suit, was instructing other technical personnel to debug biological machines, preparing to clone the bodies of those heroes.
The Emperor, as if swallowing everything whole, had brought all the souls of the dead back to his realm. These souls had merged over long ages, providing the Emperor with immense power and becoming the fertile ground for the birth of the God-Emperor.
To resurrect those ancient heroes, they first had to be separated. The holy relics previously collected by the Custodes and Silent Sisters now served their purpose, acting as anchor points to help them recall past events and complete their souls. Then, they would be tempered to strengthen them, enabling them to face those hateful enemies.
Finally, they would be given physical bodies, allowing them to return to the real universe, or become part of the Legion of Heroes. The entire process was akin to blacksmithing: melting iron ore, collecting iron, and then forging and quenching it to create a formidable weapon.
Guilliman glanced at the tech-priest's report, then casually affixed his bio-seal, indicating that the resurrection procedure could commence.
Now that the Great Crusade had been launched, it was a time of need for manpower; they would bring back anyone they could, starting with the first available. The tech-priest retrieved the stamped data-slate.
He handed it to a servo-skull flying in the air. The servo-skull was to deliver the authorization command to the relevant department for the next step of the work, and record it in the work report.