Then, the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord felt the parchment in his hand grow slightly warm, and a unique, holy Psyker energy surged from it, subtly altering the text on the parchment.
The meaning of the words remained unchanged, but their content now conformed to imperial law, and the handwriting had also changed to a style the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord was familiar with.
He looked up again at the line of text above his head, "The Imperial Inquisition, By Holy Decree of the Emperor," written in the Emperor's own hand, then stared at the parchment in his hand with a look of disbelief.
The handwriting was almost identical.
Even if the handwriting could be faked or imitated, the clear, bright, and holy Psyker energy emanating from it could not be false.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord was also an psyker. He only needed to hold up the parchment and compare it to the Astronomican, which had mysteriously reignited a while ago, to understand the source of the Psyker energy on the parchment.
The Psyker power on this parchment alone could incinerate a horde of daemons if casually thrown.
"Does this represent the will of the Emperor?" Alexander asked, pointing to the parchment in the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord's hand.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord nodded stiffly, like a Servitor that hadn't been properly oiled.
"Then can I enter?" Alexander asked, pointing to the entrance of the Inquisition fortress behind the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord rigidly moved aside, making way for Alexander.
His stiff movements made him look even more like a Servitor, as if his frontal lobe had been burned out.
Alexander couldn't help but shrug and walked towards the entrance of the Inquisition fortress, with Sanguinius following closely behind.
Then, the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord stiffly moved his body again, blocking Sanguinius' path.
Alexander, Sanguinius, and Ers, the Inquisition representative, all looked at him with bewildered expressions.
"Only Inquisitors may enter the Inquisition fortress," the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord said dryly.
He seemed to be executing some fixed, rigid program.
"..Hahahaha," Sanguinius was silent for a moment, then couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Ers, standing nearby, covered his face with his hands, seemingly wishing he could die.
"..Such talent as yours, it's a pity you're not a Servitor," Alexander said, his mouth twitching.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord's expression stiffened for a moment.
"Following the orders of the Inquisitorial Administrator appointed by the Emperor," he replied in dry high gothic.
... Sanguinius fell completely silent.
...Ers also stiffened, unable to speak.
Only Alexander was a little confused; he didn't understand high gothic and hadn't quite grasped what the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord had just said.
He just watched as the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord walked into the Inquisition fortress without looking back, presumably to do something.
Inside the Inquisition fortress, along the daemonic Way,
"He's truly a machine," Alexander commented, his mouth twitching, upon learning that the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord actually intended to follow Alexander's joke and convert himself into a Servitor.
"And his loyalty is truly loyal."
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord silently followed Alexander, Ers, and Sanguinius, seemingly still recovering.
"Actually, the Amalas Faction is quite good," Ers quietly explained. "Normally, our faction doesn't issue Exterminatus orders indiscriminately, doesn't excessively dabble in heretical matters, values the Emperor's currency, and for the most part, works diligently to maintain the stability of the Imperium."
"The Fortress Lord just hasn't quite wrapped his head around it yet; he hasn't understood the Emperor's plan."
Alexander nodded in understanding. This was also why Guilliman, Alexander, and Sanguinius were all unwilling to act against the Amalas Faction.
While the Amalas Faction was a bit rigid, compared to those who were heretics within the Hereticus Inquisition, raised xenos within the Xenos Inquisition, summoned daemons within the daemonculaba Inquisition, or those who attacked loyal Astartes Chapters and cultivated Tyranids and Ork plagues,
the Amalas Faction, which simply focused on maintaining stability, seemed quite upright and respectable.
In fact, most of the Inquisition initially started as the Amalas Faction, only to gradually become warped by their extreme work and drift into other factions.
These Inquisitors who currently adhered to the Amalas Faction had no other ill intentions; they simply believed that the Emperor was truly playing a grand game of chess, and their role was to observe without speaking, like true gentlemen.
Compared to the Conservative Party within the Adeptus Administratum and the Ministry of Justice, the Amalas Faction was merely rigid. They didn't mind reforms, as long as those reforms were part of the Emperor's grand chess game.
"..The Emperor has been on the Golden Throne for ten thousand years. It's impossible for the Emperor to have personally written that signature during these ten thousand years."
"..This must have been prepared by the Emperor ten thousand years ago. I understand now, this is still part of the Emperor's grand plan."
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord muttered to himself, and as he spoke, his eyes lit up.
Alexander looked at the Fortress Lord, who had achieved logical self-consistency, and his mouth twitched involuntarily.
That signature had been signed by the Emperor Nobita just a few hours ago at Alexander's request.
The Emperor Nobita had said at the time that he would do anything except deal with state affairs.
Alexander couldn't think of anything for him to do for a while, so he had the Emperor sign a stack of IOUs, or rather, imperial edicts, that only had signatures but no content. Alexander himself would fill in the content when needed.
Furthermore, these signatures themselves had the power to repel Warp entities; throwing one at a demon was also extremely effective.
Should I give one to each of those die-hard factions in the Adeptus Administratum and the Ministry of Justice when I go back? Though it probably wouldn't do much good.
The conservatism of those factions in the Adeptus Administratum and the Ministry of Justice was different from that of the Inquisition.
Their conservatism stemmed from the livelihoods of millions of officials and their unwillingness to let Primarchs wield power, not from genuinely caring about the Emperor's will.
Otherwise, they should have obeyed unconditionally after the Emperor appointed Guilliman as Regent.
Alexander pondered for a moment, then looked at the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord beside him.
"I need you to release someone: Titus, the former Captain of the Ultramarines' Second Company."
"..Who?" The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord's expression became blank for a moment.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord noticed Alexander's gaze and quickly lowered his head, saying, "There is no subordinate relationship between different Inquisitors. Even as Fortress Lord, I am not privy to the private prisoners held by some Inquisitors."
This structure was truly giving Alexander a headache.
"Jerome Xerxes, of the Holy Hammer Chapter. He was involved in affairs on the planet Ghalia," Alexander continued.
"..But he's already dead," the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord said somewhat awkwardly. "He was possessed by a demon while dealing with the renegade Chapter, the Grey Slayers, and was purged by the Grey Knights. His archives have also been sealed."
Alexander couldn't help but frown. He was already dead? Had he arrived too late? Had Titus already gone to the Deathwatch?
"Then you go investigate! Find out where all his prisoners are," Alexander said to the Inquisitorial Fortress Lord.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord nodded repeatedly, immediately turning to leave.
"Wait," Sanguinius' voice rang out at this moment. "I also have a prisoner I wish to see."
Alexander also turned his head with a hint of curiosity. He was also somewhat eager to know which prisoner could capture Sanguinius' attention.
The Inquisitorial Fortress Lord's body stiffened for a moment, but he still turned his head to look at Sanguinius.
"Iskandar Khayon," Sanguinius said softly.
Khayon's fingers gently stroked the soft fur of his familiar, Ghairon. This Warp creature, bound to his soul, had been shaped into the form of a wolf during a struggle with a Fenris Wolf.
His lover, the Dark Eldar Nefertari, nestled gently in his arms, feeding him peeled Prospero grapes. She had almost had her soul devoured by a Slaanesh daemon, but Khayon had protected her.
Khayon could still feel the subtle tremor of mechanical cables; that was his sister, Izalara. This poor child had half her brain eaten by Prospero's Soul-Eaters when she was young. She had been modified to survive in a form similar to the machine spirit, and now she had become the machine spirit of the Vengeful Spirit, beautiful and powerful.
He rubbed the playing cards between his fingertips. Each of these cards sealed a Greater Daemon, under Khayon's control...
And Khayon gently raised his head, looking at the valiant and reliable brother standing before him, the Warmaster Abaddon, to whom he pledged his loyalty.
"Ezekiel," Khayon said in an affectionate voice, "my brother, care for a game of daemon Poker?"
Abaddon laughed heartily and sat down before Khayon.
Damn! The pain surging from his ribs interrupted Khayon's fantasy. Some meddling Inquisitor had broken his ribs.
Sigh, he couldn't help but fantasize again, fantasizing that his beloved Nefertari was still alive, fantasizing that his sister had become even more beautiful and powerful, fantasizing that Warmaster Abaddon was already bombing Terra, fantasizing that the False Emperor's lackeys were wailing.
Fantasizing that Warmaster Abaddon held his hand, standing together on the ruins of the Imperium, with daemon Primarchs, including Magnus, kneeling beside the Warmaster and himself, all praising the achievements of Abaddon and Khayon in unison.
But Khayon believed, utterly believed, that his fantasy had already become reality.
Sigh, fantasizing again.
Just then, the sound of a door opening suddenly echoed.
"Is that Lord Khayon?" a voice filled with surprise rang out. "Is it Lord Abaddon's good brother, the Blade of the Black Legion, the greatest sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, the Kingbreaker, Black Khayon?"
Many people in this galaxy could be called protagonists.
The Emperor himself was a typical Mary Sue character, and most of the Primarchs had a male lead starting point. Among the ordinary Astartes, there were powerhouses like Titus, Sicarius, and Calgar. Even among mortals, there were figures like the old cannon Farseer, Cain the Little Scamp, and the legendary Inquisitor Eisenhorn.
But if Alexander had to think of a protagonist among the Chaos factions, his first thought wouldn't be Abaddon, but Abaddon's good brother, Khayon.
Iskandar Khayon, a Prospero-born member of the Thousand Sons Legion, was truly like a male lead from a Japanese light novel.
He had a ship-girl sister, a tsundere Dark Eldar girlfriend, his own warband, and powerful, loyal wolf-like guardian spirits.
He even had a set of incredibly stylish cards, each sealing a daemon, including even a Bloodthirster of the Blood God.
He also amassed a huge fortune in the Warp through his wizardry, truly a winner in life.
So, how was the life of this life-winner, this light novel male lead Khayon, ruined?
And why is Khayon now imprisoned by the Inquisition, with his limbs broken, his Psyker powers drained, and his eyes gouged out?
The answer is that Khayon joined the Black Legion, recognized Abaddon as his brother, and allowed his sister, the Vengeful Spirit, to accompany Abaddon from the First Black Expedition to the Twelfth, achieving great military feats.
Then, on the eve of the Thirteenth Black Expedition, Khayon stood at the gates of the Inquisition and surrendered.
The reason for his surrender was that Abaddon had ordered him to do so, because Abaddon wanted him to declare at Terra, the heart of the Imperium of Man: "The Crimson Path is about to unfold, Abaddon is coming to Terra, and will destroy the entire Imperium."
Then Abaddon would ride his sister, destroy the Imperium of Man, and release Khayon amidst the ruins of Terra to share in the grand event.
Setting aside how Abaddon, on a whim, gave away his strongest, and perhaps currently the Thousand Sons' second strongest, sorcerer to the Imperium just to satisfy his verbal cravings.
Khayon himself actually obeying this order is perplexing, leading one to suspect if the poor fellow was somehow tricked into lameness by Abaddon.
Alexander could only lament, better to be Abaddon's enemy than Abaddon's brother.
The Imperium of Man, Abaddon's enemy, still exists after thirteen Black Expeditions and is even thriving.
But Abaddon's father, who was Abaddon's brother, was killed by Abaddon himself; his second father, Horus, was personally sent into the temple by him; his good brother Loken was killed by Erebus while Abaddon stood by and watched.
Of course, the most tragic is Khayon: his Dark Eldar girlfriend is dead, his guardian spirits banished back to the Warp, his painstakingly collected daemon card deck stolen, his sister ridden around by Abaddon, his limbs broken, his Psyker powers drained.
He can only lie in the Inquisition, blindly fantasizing about the Black Legion's Legion arriving to welcome the Warmaster, about making Magnus kneel with a single glance, and about the era of the Primarchs being over.
Looking at Khayon, lying on the ground with all his bones shattered, Alexander instantly felt a mischievous urge.
"Is that Lord Khayon?"
Alexander's fingers brushed over the hot clapperboard & robot director, and he spoke with a voice full of surprise:
"Is this Lord Abaddon's good brother, the Blade of the Black Legion, the greatest sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, the Kingbreaker, Black Khayon?"
"Who are you?" Khayon, completely deprived of sight, wiggled his broken body and asked.
"I, I am just a new recruit, a new recruit who admires you and Lord Abaddon! Oh! Warmaster above!" Alexander stammered, pretending.
He only said 'new recruit,' not where he was a new recruit from; he only said 'admires,' not what he admired; he only said 'Warmaster,' not which Warmaster.
"A new recruit? Are you a warrior of the Black Legion?" A hint of joy appeared in Khayon's voice: "Has the Warmaster arrived on Terra?"
"Yes, my lord, yes, the Warmaster is on Terra." Alexander nodded repeatedly, speaking sincerely.
His tone was so genuine and reliable that it naturally inspired trust.
"Ah haha ah haha!!"
Khayon burst into laughter, his shattered chest heaving:
"I have long told the Imperium's shallow-minded fools that the Crimson Path is unstoppable, the Warmaster's advance is unstoppable, and the Imperium's destruction is unstoppable."
"New recruit, tell me, where is our great Warmaster now? Has he already broken into the Imperial Palace and slain the False Emperor?"
"Oh, Lord Abaddon is very close to us." Alexander said unhurriedly: "He's in the cell next to ours, he was just arrested with me."
Khayon's laughter abruptly stopped.
Ers, the Inquisition representative standing beside Alexander, couldn't hold back and burst out laughing.
Even Sanguinius' lips involuntarily curved into a slight smile.
"You lie to me! Inquisitor!" Khayon, enraged, snapped indignantly: "Do you think such petty tricks can shake my faith?"
"Is it because Lord Abaddon is sweeping all before him that you are starting to panic?"
"Abaddon is currently half-dead somewhere, riding your sister, who has been ravaged by Nurgle's plants," Alexander said truthfully.
It was indeed ravaged; the last time Alexander saw Khayon's sister, the Vengeful Spirit, Nurgle's broccoli had started growing on her.
"How dare you insult the Warmaster so." Khayon gritted his teeth; if his eyes hadn't been gouged out, he would surely be glaring furiously at Alexander right now.
This, in turn, left Alexander a bit speechless.
Khayon's first reaction was to care that Alexander had insulted Abaddon, rather than caring about his own sister, or that Nurgle would attack the Vengeful Spirit.
"Do you trust Abaddon that much?" Alexander asked softly.
"Shallow and ignorant fools, you do not see the Warmaster's boundless righteousness, nor do you understand the Warmaster's generosity, nor do you know the Warmaster's power."
Khayon said with disdain:
"The Warmaster treats me like a brother, even gifting me Sanguinius' broken sword and the crystal formed from his death echo. I naturally repay him with loyalty and brotherhood."
"And the Warmaster's power is beyond your comprehension. In this era where all Primarchs have disappeared, who can rival Abaddon?"
"You few are nothing but chickens and dogs before Lord Abaddon."
Only when Khayon said this did Alexander remember that Abaddon claimed that anyone who died on the Vengeful Spirit lingered there in crystal form, and Sanguinius was no different.
Then Abaddon gave that crystal, along with fragments of Sanguinius' sword, to Khayon, who forged them into a power sword.
Well, at least according to the Inquisition's records, that's what Khayon confessed.
However, Khayon's confession also included absurd details like daemon Primarchs kneeling before Abaddon and Khayon, and Khayon making Magnus bend the knee...
Alexander couldn't help but turn to look at Sanguinius beside him, then at the Crimson Sword at Sanguinius' waist.
Abaddon gave you Sanguinius and Sanguinius' sword.
Then what is standing next to me? Horus and his Worldbreaker warhammer?
Look in my Sanguinius, tell me! Why!?
"If the era of the Primarchs is over, if Abaddon gave you Sanguinius' death echo, then what am I?"
"If my Crimson Sword was also given to you by him, then what is hanging at my waist?"
Sanguinius spoke unhurriedly, taking a slow step forward.
Khayon was slightly stunned; Sanguinius' clear voice made him instinctively tremble.
"Who are you?" Khayon growled, as if with a premonition.
"Iskandar Khayon, son of Magnus, raise your head and look at me with your blind eyes."
Sanguinius gently spread his wings, and the dark cell was instantly illuminated as if under the sun.
"Ah!!!"
Khayon looked up, then let out a sharp wail. Blood streamed from his blind eyes, and his ruined eyeballs in his dark sockets seemed to be set ablaze.
Khayon saw it; in the pitch blackness, he saw it.
That radiant, dazzling, magnificent, sacred figure, those pure, outstretched wings, that Psyker power as bright as the morning sun.
Pain and fear continuously surged from Khayon's body; Khayon felt every nerve in his body about to melt under that radiance.
His eyes were still blind, but they had seen light.
As an ancient veteran of countless battles who had witnessed Primarchs during the Great Crusade, Khayon recognized that radiance.
At Ullanor, as a member of the Thousand Sons Legion, Khayon had once seen that radiance from afar.
At that time, he was already an Archangel, while Khayon was merely a warrior of the Thousand Sons' Jackal Cult.
"Sanguinius!"
Khayon cried out almost mournfully, his voice filled with pain and disbelief:
"How could you! The era of the Primarchs should be over! How can you be standing here?!"
"Friend, it's quite obvious, the version has been updated, and you haven't kept up," Alexander said, standing aside, looking at Khayon with a touch of pity.
"But Abaddon promised me! The Warmaster promised me! How could this be?!" Khayon roared, filled with anger, pain, and struggle.
Just then, Sanguinius gently waved his hand, and fire burst from Khayon's eyes; his previously gouged-out eyes suddenly had light.
Khayon stared blankly at Sanguinius, at the figure that seemed to have stepped out of bygone years.
Sanguinius gently fluttered his wings a few times, as if showing himself to Khayon.
Then Sanguinius reached out and patted the Crimson Sword at his waist.
"I have always been in the Warp, and my sword was recovered by the Blood Angels a long time ago." His voice was incredibly soft.
Khayon, however, felt a sense of suffocation.
"Abaddon lied to me?"
"No way?! How could he?!"
"He couldn't have lied to me, could he?! Could he?!"