Chapter 58: I'm Going In!

"All ships, prepare for anti-boarding operations. The Prospector fleet, fall back."

Belisarius Cawl's voice echoed through the communication channel once more. His command throne was enveloped in streams of data, and hundreds of crimson cursors surged across the holographic star map from the bellies of the enemy vessels.

Those were boarding torpedoes laden with Chaos Space Marines and various profane creations, every single warhead embedded with screaming, living rams.

The Imperial fleet shifted formation instantly. The warships still pouring out a barrage of fire immediately turned their prows away at full speed.

The *Dawn* naturally chose to pull back along with them.

Yet, unexpectedly, a significant portion of those torpedoes locked onto this seemingly unremarkable vessel.

The boarding torpedoes crawling from the bellies of the Chaos battleline ships ignored the Inquisition warship hovering mere distances away, their living rams' screaming skulls suddenly shifting in unison, rushing toward the *Dawn* as if summoned.

"Strike Group One, maintain radio silence. Deploy Strike Group Two for interception."

Escort fighters darting from the hangar cut into the swarm of torpedoes in suicidal interception runs. The plasma spewing from close-in defense turrets blossomed into burning sparks in the void.

The ignited Chaos craft revealed twisted internal visceral structures amidst the explosions.

An unintercepted torpedo slammed into the vessel's port flank. The eerie smoke rising as corrosive slime came into contact with adamantium armor burned out a multitude of holes.

As the alarming red glare of the holographic star map cast its light upon Cawl's metallic visage, the Magos Dominus's data-tentacles were injecting fresh encrypted commands into the fleet array, subsequently synthesizing the data regarding the contents of the shattered torpedoes.

He gazed at the results and exhaled a breath of relief.

Cawl had always remained wary of Chaos and its all-pervasive covetousness, but for a mere few dozen Chaos Space Marines and some cultists to pose a threat to the *Dawn* felt somewhat excessively paranoid.

Maintaining the barrage against the boarding torpedoes, Cawl transmitted a warning to Romulus.

"Chaos Space Marines have launched a concentrated boarding action against you via boarding torpedoes. I will report the impact coordinates to you."

Romulus cast a sidelong glance.

The others understood. Karna moved toward the densely populated central levels of the warship.

Arthur departed silently, and Ramses followed immediately, calmly beginning to observe the outside world from within the safety room.

Aglaia looked around, ultimately suppressing the curiosity buried deep in her heart and remaining in place.

Thanks to the Emperor's favor, ever since she made contact with the ancient warriors, she felt that the consistently unlucky and high-pressure life she had led had finally ushered in a slightly more relaxed era.

Silence implied consent, and any taboos would be stated outright. The deepest impression left upon Aglaia from dealing with these four ancient warriors was that she finally felt treated like a human being by others.

She found no trace of the extremity and high-pressure weight that had already deeply embedded themselves into the Empire's bones among these warriors.

Therefore, Aglaia, who had always harbored a strong curiosity regarding the identities of these ancient warriors and the history they carried, would generally hover near them to take some historical notes to facilitate writing her own thesis.

Arthur was the most tight-lipped among the quartet; as long as the history of the loyalist Legions was not involved, he would speak of things, and though he seemed aloof, he was actually unexpectedly easy to talk to.

Next was Ramses. As long as one was willing to exchange various kinds of knowledge within his grasp, he did not mind recounting the history of that era through artistically processed prose.

The other two were rather watertight; one only loved to chat with her about humanistic art, while the other would have his words twisted right out of him the moment he spoke, as if she were conversing not with a person, but with a parliament analyzing her every move.

Yet, premonitions told Aglaia that following them this time would definitely bring her no good.

Aglaia pondered for a moment and decided to remain honestly on the bridge.

She believed heavily in such instincts now.

Seeing this, Romulus cast his gaze back into the battlefield, continuing to witness this frenzied dance of steel and energy. The data within his field of vision intertwined, drawing forth model after model.

Boom—

Two escort craft crossed trajectories as they slammed into the torpedo swarm, immediately colliding with two warheads. The burning metal twisted together in the vacuum of space.

Intercepted by a flurry of defensive firepower, a few stray torpedoes still managed to pierce the port flank of the *Dawn*.

When the thermal melta-charges bored through the thick multi-layered armor plating, the pressure differential inside the compartment instantly sucked three servitors engaged in hazardous labor into vacuum-sealed blood bags.

"Port lower-deck node impacted. Enemy core coordinates marked. Proceed swiftly to the target location. Librarian units, execute psychic suppression to restrict the scope of destruction. Fire teams will prioritize clearing other sectors."

Romulus's order rang out.

"Acknowledged."

The dark knights and the sorcerer's power armor cast shadows down the trembling corridor, their ocular visors flashing with the data streams transmitted by Romulus.

The pipeline network in the region struck by the torpedoes overlapped perfectly with the holographic model of the *Dawn*.

Whoosh—

As the Word Bearer sorcerer's staff lit up, the bulkhead oozed fluorescent blue slime.

The armor of the eighteen guards crawled with writhing runes. They incinerated the obstructive servitors with plasma fire, blasting the ritual pattern of the Thousand-Eyed Hive onto the adamantium deck.

"Shatter the False Emperor's ship."

Bubbles swelled within the crystalline liquid, and those contents of the uncompleted boarding torpedoes emerged within the spacious chamber as those bubbles burst.

Chaos cultists surged forth in a torrent.

"Halt the False Emperor's destiny!"

The sorcerer slammed his staff into the ground, and the entire compartment suddenly became lined with mirrors.

Every single detail aboard the warship was recorded within them, and the projected images poured into the sorcerer's mind.

Quickly scanning through every piece of information on the mirrors, the sorcerer found that these scenes seemed to be missing something.

Whose commands were the people on the bridge following? Which individuals was that Inquisitor conversing with? Why did the empty corridors draw such respectful gazes from the crowd?

Why did those people on the lower decks still harbor such hope for the future despite their sudden incursion?

Why would this be?

This left the sorcerer puzzled, knowing this was his most confident spell.

It was precisely because of this spell that the Word Bearers had been able to locate the extermination weapon repository of the Nemesis Chapter at the very first moment, destroying the final resistance of the sons of Guilliman.

He swiftly opened communications.

"Reaper Squad, respond if you copy."

Not a sound came from the other end of the communication...

The sorcerer casually grabbed a cultist and flung him into the shattered mirror.

The mirror reflected the fate of Reaper Squad: three corpses battered to pieces by countless projectiles.

"......"

Refusing to believe it, the sorcerer drove a probe deep into the cranial cavity, began stimulating neural pathways, and initiated psychic communications with one squad after another.

For some reason, after boarding this vessel, his connection to the Warp had grown faint.

Until he finally connected with the ninth boarding squad, a voice came through.

"It's a trap, sorcerer!"