"Ugh..."
Asmodai choked on his words.
"Wait, don't tell me this Ancient is also..."
A repressive atmosphere descended upon the Inner Circle's council chamber. This was not good news.
"It is a secret!!!" Asmodai said, steeling himself, attempting to preserve the Ancient's dignity and image.
"SPEAK!!!" Azrael's hand was already moving toward the Lion Helm, the symbol of his authority.
"..."
Ezekiel, the Chief Librarian, said nothing, but his psychic aura flared to life. It was unclear if he intended to perform a direct mind-scan or begin a divination.
A cold sweat trickled down Asmodai's spine. He knew this could touch upon a secret, one buried in the deepest recesses of every Dark Angel's heart—a shameful betrayal. The fact that all Dark Angels had eventually repainted their armor to the green of Caliban's forests was a telling sign, and it was clear everyone in the room was thinking along the same lines.
If he refused to speak, the Dark Angels Chapter might very well fracture on the spot.
In that instant, Asmodai's heart turned to ash. I am sorry, Ancient. For the sake of the Dark Angels, your secret must be sacrificed.
Taking a deep breath, Asmodai spoke with an air of grim resignation. "No, he is not. During a critical moment in the Siege of Terra, he was blasted into his Dreadnought chassis by the general's cannon of the Fallen Primarch Perturabo—the very same shot that breached the Imperial Palace's defenses. When he awoke, the Lion had already left Terra. He himself then followed My Lord on a glorious mission that lasted ten thousand years. Therefore, he is not one of the Fallen. He does not even know what happened on Caliban."
"..."
A bizarre silence fell over the Inner Circle. This... they couldn't laugh. Anyone who laughed might be branded one of the Fallen, and that would be a terrible injustice.
"Ahem, and where is this Ancient? Why did you not invite him to return?" Even Azrael was at a loss for words. This was a matter that could not be investigated too deeply. If they did, they might end up proving that the Lion himself was one of the Fallen.
"This is the word of the Ancient, and of that Primarch. That Primarch is an incredibly powerful psyker; he can likely peer into the future and the past through prophecy." Asmodai explained, then produced another recording he had prepared earlier, handing it to a nearby servo-skull.
The servo-skull projected a new image: the black Dreadnought of the Star of Trailblaze Chapter. This was, of course, not a Fallen Angel's machine; its iconography was meticulously designed (copied) by Zhou Ye. He had simply and brazenly copied the icon for the Path of Trailblaze from Star Rail, merely coloring it gold.
"First: All who wear the green are loyal."
Hearing this, everyone in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief. Their greatest fear was that this Ancient would declare the green-armored warriors to be traitors as well. If that had happened, they wouldn't need an outside force to purge them; the Dark Angels would have imploded right then and there. While Zhou Ye enjoyed having fun, he wasn't about to detonate an entire Legion. In fact, the gene-seed he gave to the Imperial Fists was fundamentally different from the one he gave the Ultramarines; the memories implanted in the Ultramarines were more profound, as if they had personally experienced the events, whereas for the Imperial Fists, it was more like watching a movie. Naturally, Zhou Ye had made Aldrich emphasize this point first during the recording.
"Glory!!!"
After the initial tension subsided, everyone present gave a respectful salute. They were loyal. This was an affirmation from one of the most ancient of Ancients. For many, it brought a sliver of... peace.
Truthfully, the Dark Angels weren't so fanatical during the 30K era. Their paranoia stemmed primarily from the inexplicable explosion of Caliban, the disappearance of the Lion, and the fact that all the veterans had followed the Lion down to the surface. Those who remained were left staring dumbfounded as their world blew up, severing their lineage. Some even suspected there was a traitor among them who had destroyed Caliban to kill the Lion. Thus, the change to green armor was more of a self-comforting measure. Now... these men could finally breathe a little easier, their hearts at ease. With the exception of a few die-hard fanatics, their obsession with the Fallen lessened.
"Second: The situation on Caliban was extremely complex. The six wings of the Hexagrammaton who followed the Lion to the surface were, at that time at least, loyal. The new recruits were almost all loyal. Luther exploited the Lion's character flaws. Therefore, not all of the Fallen are traitors. You must not treat them all as such."
Aba, aba, aba...
The members of the Inner Circle looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Did someone just have another episode? Never mind, best to ignore it.
"Finally, I advise you to place all of the Fallen you capture into stasis fields. According to My Lord, the Lion will awaken in approximately one hundred years. Loyalty and treachery will be for the LION! TO! DECIDE!"
The final sentence was filled with gritted teeth and a simmering, curse-laden fury, which everyone politely pretended not to hear.
Aba, aba, aba...
"The Lion returns!!!"
A clamor erupted among the Dark Angels. For them, the Primarch was of paramount importance, even more so than the Fallen. After all, when they had briefly seen the Lion, they had mostly ignored their surroundings until one of the Fallen had tapped Azrael on the shoulder, only then did he notice a whole group of them had boarded their ship alongside the Lion.
"Emperor be praised!!!"
"Wuuu..."
"What a glorious day!!!"
"After ten thousand years, the Lion finally returns to his loyal Chapter!"
In that moment, countless warriors shed tears. Ten thousand years. An entire ten thousand years had passed. They were finally hearing news of their gene-father. The room was filled with weeping Astartes, with only the diminutive Watchers in the Dark looking a little uncomfortable.
As expected...
"Wait, does My Lord know where the Lion is?"
The room fell silent for a moment. The eyes of the Deathwing members who had been on the mission darted about evasively.
"SPEAK!!!"
Seeing the shifting gazes of his Chapter Master and Chief Librarian, the group felt a surge of fear. They knew that prophecy in this universe was essentially observing ripples in the chaotic timeline of the Warp, and one couldn't probe too deeply lest they trigger some kind of causal backlash. Of course, the more powerful a being was, the harder they were to observe.
One of the Inner Circle members handed another data-slate to a servo-skull. Soon, an image of a figure in black and gold power armor appeared on the screen. Seeing him, the breathing of the Dark Angels grew heavy. This was the one who commanded their ancient Dreadnoughts, a Primarch of the Imperium.
"The Lion slumbers within the Rock, but he has been hidden."
Everyone froze. Almost instinctively, they turned to look at the Watchers in the Dark standing beside them. The only beings who could hide something from the Dark Angels within their own fortress-monastery were these strange, diminutive creatures.
As expected, under the intense gaze of the Astartes, the Watchers trembled.
"And do not go looking for him. The time is not yet right. Any disturbance will affect his return. When the Emperor's gaze falls upon this place once more, that is when the First Primarch, Lion El'Jonson, will return. Finally, the Fallen are not that big of a deal. Stop freaking out about it. If I hear that anything untoward has happened to those people, I will broadcast every last one of your dirty little secrets to the Astronomican!!!"
"..."
Aba, aba, aba...
As Zhou Ye's words faded, a brief silence descended upon the Inner Circle's great hall. The atmosphere became incredibly strange. Even the perpetually silent Watchers in the Dark felt as if they were breaking out in a sweat.
Finally...
"This is a secret. Until the Lion returns, only the Inner Circle is permitted to know of it. As for the hunt for the Fallen... with the exception of those tainted by Chaos, it is to be suspended for now."
Azrael took a deep breath. Firstly, they couldn't possibly move against this new Primarch. Since their Ancient hadn't returned, it was clear he was still with him. And if the Lion was truly returning, then the matter of the Fallen was indeed not such a great issue. Lastly, Azrael truly did not want this secret to become common knowledge.
He turned his gaze to Asmodai, the leader of the Deathwing.
"As you command!!!"
At Azrael's words, the members of the Inner Circle snapped to attention. Each one of them appeared sincere and solemn, especially Asmodai. His eyes were as clear as mirrors, sparkling with the light of wisdom. Azrael felt as if he were seeing a ghost.
These guys are hiding something...
This was his only thought. For this group of uncontrollable fanatics to become so calm and full of wisdom, rather than sinking deeper into their madness and paranoia, meant that they were definitely sitting on some strange, enormous secret. A very, very big one.
Of course, Azrael's guess was correct. Asmodai's mind was now in a state where it automatically blocked out the words 'Fallen Angels'. As for the other members of the Deathwing, they now hoped more than anyone that not all the Fallen were traitors. After all, under Zhou Ye's bronze-buckled belt and relentless bullying, they had donned black armor and fought shoulder-to-shoulder with a group of the Fallen. Only by accepting this new truth could they wash away their shame. Otherwise, they would all have to enter stasis fields themselves. Thus, each of them now appeared exceedingly rational.
Perhaps even Zhou Ye hadn't expected that their fanaticism would recede so much after putting on black armor.
"Now is a moment of glory! A Primarch of the Imperium has appeared after ten millennia and banished the fallen Fulgrim!!!"
At that moment, Asmodai resumed the recording that had been paused earlier. What followed was a moment free of secrets.
The mysterious Primarch reactivated a Titan Legion. An Emperor's Champion appeared among the Emperor's Children and slew Lucius. Then came the duel between the sons of gods, a battle that was lightning-fast even to the eyes of these elite Space Marines.
Fulgrim was indeed powerful. His swordsmanship was exquisite, and with the advantage of two extra arms, his style was all the more treacherous. No one present was confident they could block a single one of Fulgrim's strikes. It was one of the pinnacles of sword fighting. Even as Dark Angels, they had to admit this.
But every single one of those attacks ultimately landed on the shield. With a decisive blow, the loyal Primarch destroyed Fulgrim, along with his blasphemous weapon. He then distributed fragments of the blade to every faction that had participated in the battle.
At this moment, only one thought remained in their minds...
Glory!!!
The members of the Deathwing stood tall, their chests puffed out with pride. They were well aware of their reputation, and they considered their actions a necessary sacrifice to protect the secrets of their Chapter and the Imperium. But they were Astartes, nonetheless. In fact, they cared more about honor than the average Astartes; if they didn't, they wouldn't have become so fanatical about protecting their secrets in the first place.
Now, draped in glory, how could they not feel honored? Moreover, this was a prize they had won through great sacrifice, snatching it from the hands of those Fallen Angels. If they hadn't, the fragment of the blade would have gone to the Fallen. They had already begun to self-hypnotize themselves into a strange state of having one-upped the Fallen. After all, since they couldn't physically harm them, they could only bully them mercilessly in the spiritual sense.
Zhou Ye had given the shard to them, not to those Fallen. My Lord prefers us, after all.
"Finally, let us celebrate this glorious occasion. Place the fragment in the Chapter's reliquary. All neophytes must go to behold it. This is one of our Chapter's most glorious moments!!!"
Azrael set the tone. Since there was no issue with how this honor was obtained, there was no need to bury it as a secret. The final segment of the recording could be clipped and placed in the reliquary alongside the shard without any problem.
After all, look at a certain Chapter whose Primarch got his head lopped off by his brother. Do they have such an honor?
Soon, the Dark Angels' celebration began. As knights, at least, they were solemn.
---o---
Meanwhile, in the Thousand-Person Theater.
Zhou Ye looked at the floating orbs of light around him. These were partial soul fragments of the members of the Oliveira Dynasty, from which Zhou Ye had extracted their memories. Although that fool had sacrificed his entire family, the sacrifice hadn't been absolute. Zhou Ye had managed to peel off quite a lot of useful material, which was a decent gain.
"I'll process these into memory fragments. They can be directly implanted into others' minds, giving them all the necessary knowledge to become Rogue Traders."
---o---