This is the bonus chapter for reaching 500 Powerstones
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Standard Terran Calendar 976.M30, Day 321, 12:00.
In orbit above Aurelian IV, Bridge of the Blood Angels Flagship Red Tear.
Azkaellon watched as the shipboard interface refreshed the ground battlefield's casualty data at a rate of three times per second.
In the City of the Holy Anthem defense sector, Tobias Fane's Second Company confirmed casualties exceeding one thousand nine hundred, leaving fewer than two thousand combat-capable Astartes.
In the mid-hive, Amit's Fifth Company had suffered equally catastrophic losses.
The news of Sanguinius breaking free and engaging the two Greater Daemons lifted his spirits.
But the rapidly deteriorating combat reports from the Aru Industrial Zone defensive line made his heart sink right back to the bottom.
"Commander! The third sector of the Aru defensive line has completely fallen! Champion Seranaphy reports that the massive Warp entity has advanced to within three hundred meters of the defensive wall. All rapidly constructed defensive fortifications are undergoing large-scale corrosive disintegration! Pollution concentration in the Eastern District of the City of the Holy Anthem has breached the NU-class threshold! The Second Company encountered an ambush by elite warp entities during their retreat; confirmed casualties have increased by forty-seven! Fleet macrocannon arrays are overheating! They require a forty-minute cooldown before the next volley can be fired!"
The bad news just kept coming, one after another.
Azkaellon clenched his fists, producing a creaking sound.
He knew that if the Aru defensive line collapsed, allowing that putrid entity to fully break through and form a triangular resonance with the two avian entities in the City of the Holy Anthem...
The entirety of Aurelian IV would be merely a step away from sliding completely into the Warp.
At that point, never mind waiting for the reinforcements from Guilliman and Ferrus; even if the Emperor Himself arrived, He would probably only consider physically expunging the entire planet from existence.
"How long until the macrocannons are fully charged?" Azkaellon's voice was hoarse.
"Seven minutes, Commander!" The reply carried a hint of despair. "The previous volley depleted the redundancy capacity of the cooling systems. Forcing a firing sequence now will melt the acceleration rails of at least three main cannons."
"Then let them melt." Azkaellon turned around. "Use whatever operational cannons we have left, target the largest entity in Aru, and execute a saturation bombardment."
"But Commander, what about the two in the City of the Holy Anthem?"
"Father is there." Azkaellon cut him off, his right hand resting on the edge of the tactical table. "As long as Father is fighting, the City of the Holy Anthem will not fall. But Aru... Seranaphy won't last another hour."
He looked up, gazing out the observation viewport at the planet currently being corrupted. "At least... we save half of it."
Right then, a hum buzzed from the comms console.
An operator looked up, his expression bizarre. "Commander, an Olympia-class strike cruiser with the registry designation Terra's Glory is requesting access to our fleet's communication network. The authorization level is... direct command of the Emperor."
The bridge of the Red Tear instantly fell silent.
Azkaellon's pupils constricted slightly.
The Olympia-class was an elite model of strike cruiser, typically only assigned to Expeditionary Fleet flagships or vital Sector Commands.
A communication level under the direct command of the Emperor meant that this ship either came from Holy Terra or possessed the authority to reach the ears of the Master of Mankind Himself.
And a name like Terra's Glory...
"Patch them through," Azkaellon ordered in a deep voice.
The holographic projector in the center of the bridge flared with blue light.
The instant the image coalesced, Azkaellon felt his breath hitch for a second.
Gold.
A resplendent, majestic gold.
The suit of Terminator armor stood over 3.5 meters tall, its ceramite plating etched with intricate tactical runes and the Aquila.
The right pauldron bore a three-dimensional relief of the Imperial Aquila, while the left bore the Praetor's baton encircled by twin pillars of the Aquila, with decorative enamel blue stripes accenting the gilded base.
The helmet featured a fully enclosed gilded faceplate, with a Terran gemstone the size of a pigeon egg embedded in the forehead, its sides adorned with ceremonial laurel wreaths.
The gaze piercing through the faceplate was glacial, carrying a certain pressure belonging only to the pinnacle of human creation.
Azkaellon's genetic memory boiled.
This was an Imperial Custodian.
The personal bodyguard of the Emperor, the ultimate creation of human biological enhancement, a transcendent being that perpetually stood beside the Golden Throne.
And this wasn't just a standard Custodian; the Praetor's baton on that pauldron signified that this was a high-ranking commander within the Custodes.
A position second only to the Tribunate and the Captain-General, possessing the qualification to stand eye-to-eye with a Primarch within the Imperium's bureaucracy.
Azkaellon didn't hesitate for a microsecond. He slammed his right fist against his left chest, his master-crafted power armor emitting a dull thud. "Commander Azkaellon of the Sanguinary Guard, Blood Angels Legion, greets the Praetor!"
The bridge officers behind him saluted in unison, their movements crisp and synchronized.
Within the holographic projection, the Custodes Praetor gave a slight nod—already an incredibly high gesture of respect.
Then, an authoritative, unquestionable voice spoke, "Commander Azkaellon. I am Demetrian Titus, Praetor of the Imperial Custodes' Covert Inquisition."
Covert Inquisition Praetor?
Azkaellon rapidly searched his memory banks; the Blood Angels' internal clearance archives held no record of such a position within the Custodes' structure.
But he immediately discarded his suspicion. The organizational structure of the Custodes was inherently one of the Imperium's highest secrets. Let alone something called the 'Covert Inquisition', which sounded exactly like an intelligence agency directly answering to the Emperor.
"Praetor," Azkaellon maintained his salute. "The Aurelian System is currently suffering a massive Warp entity incursion. The corruption level has reached MU-class and is steadily climbing. Our Legion's Primarch, Lord Sanguinius, is personally overseeing the purification efforts on the ground, but the situation—"
"I am not interested in a situation report." Custodes Praetor Demetrian Titus cut him off, his voice devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "An imperially registered Mining World experiences an MU-class Warp corruption outbreak mere days after the Blood Angels Legion assumes defense, alongside the manifestation of at least three terrifyingly powerful Warp entities."
His faceplate turned toward the tactical holotable.
Even through the holographic communication, Azkaellon still felt that gaze pierce him like a spike.
"This is a severe dereliction of duty in oversight, Commander Azkaellon. Regardless of the cause, the Blood Angels Legion will be held responsible for this."
Azkaellon's face grew ugly.
He wanted to argue that the root of Aurelian IV's corruption traced back eighty years to the Iron Hands' purge, that it traced back to the secret experiments of the Mechanicus.
But the words died in his throat.
Because excuses were meaningless.
Before the Emperor's will and the Imperial Custodes, any justification was pale and impotent.
They only cared about the result, and the result was that under the Blood Angels' watch, this planet was sliding into the Warp.
"Understood, Praetor." Azkaellon bowed his head. "After the battle, the Blood Angels Legion will present ourselves for judgment before the Imperium and accept any punishment."
"That is a matter for later." Demetrian Titus's tone softened slightly. "Right now, the primary objective is to purge the corruption. My strike cruiser requires a secure landing vector to deploy suppression forces to the Aru Industrial Zone."
Azkaellon immediately looked up. "There is currently a powerful Warp entity in the Aru Industrial Zone, and the ground defenses are on the verge of collapse. Praetor, I strongly advise you to prioritize reinforcing the City of the Holy Anthem, where—"
"I require obedience, not advice." Praetor Titus interrupted once more. "Primarch Sanguinius is holding the line in the City of the Holy Anthem; Aru does not have him. Open a landing corridor, Commander Azkaellon. This is an order."
The comms channel fell silent for a second.
Azkaellon took a deep breath, his right hand rapidly operating the tactical console. "Landing coordinates transmitted, Terra's Glory."
"Received."
The holographic communication vanished.
The bridge of the Red Tear fell into absolute silence.
Several seconds passed before a non-commissioned officer muttered softly, "Covert Inquisition Praetor... There really is no record of this position in our Legion's archives..."
"Quiet," Azkaellon said coldly. "Is the structure of the Custodes something you or I are permitted to pry into? Do your job."
He turned and looked out the observation viewport.
There, an Olympia-class strike cruiser, painted deep-space grey with a golden Aquila etched onto its prow, was slowly adjusting its attitude. Its main engines spewed eerie blue plasma exhaust trails.
Azkaellon looked at the ship, his brow furrowing slightly.
For some reason, he had the distinct feeling that the ship's livery... was a bit too fresh.
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Thanks for the powerstones guys, here another bonus chapter.
Rank 15 at the time I am posting, only 5 more ranks and we are entering top 10.
I think we would probably reach Top 10 today! So keep the stones cominggg!
Next bonus at 600 Powerstones (only around 70 more).