"I will help resolve the crisis on the world of Lontian."
Datch nodded and accepted the mission from Sanguinius. Before the Primarch could even open his mouth, Datch pulled out his teleportation gun, precisely inputted the coordinates for the Lontian star system, and pulled the trigger.
Bzzz...!
A swirling green teleportation portal suddenly appeared. Datch slipped forward and dove straight into it.
In an instant, the cave of light collapsed and vanished, as if the nameless one had never existed there to begin with.
Sanguinius stared helplessly at the now-empty deck, then turned to the surrounding officers and said, "Very well, let us return to the previous topic. The rest of you, back to your duties."
Inside the vast strategy briefing room, everyone lowered their heads and continued working.
...
The fleet, led by the cruiser Dominator, had secured near-Earth orbit around the planet Lontian to prevent the spread of the gene-stealing bioforms.
The bridge of the Dominator was wrapped in an especially heavy atmosphere.
Through the massive observation windows, the mottled surface of Planet Lontian was clearly visible, like a half-finished painting.
The main hall of the bridge was dimly lit, with only the cold glow from control consoles, holographic panels, and the edges of the strategy table faintly illuminating the space. Exhausted faces, anxious faces, and icy expressions were reflected everywhere.
Admiral Danaken, his face as rigid as stone, stared fixedly at the enormous holographic projection that continuously updated with terrifying data.
The predictions clearly showed that all of Lontian's major settlement cities, transport hubs, and energy centers had fallen into enemy hands.
The blue markers symbolizing Imperial loyalty had all disappeared. Traces of resistance were scattered, weak, and rapidly fading.
In their place, eerie, deep purple blotches spread like a plague.
The purple markers represented territories dominated by the Genestealer Cult.
"...In conclusion, Admiral, organized resistance on the surface effectively ceased approximately 72 hours ago by Terran Standard Time."
"The final encrypted communications with the Planetary Governor's Office, the local garrison command, and the Adeptus Arbites fortress have all gone silent. The last messages received were filled with logical contradictions and cognitive distortions, consistent with the characteristics of advanced gene-stealing infection."
The intelligence officer pointed to the locations and names listed in the report displayed on the hologram as he spoke.
"According to the Oracle's scans, the enemy is continuously emitting psychic signals, apparently summoning a Tyranid fleet."
Danaken's gaze swept across the entire Imperial high command gathered around the strategy table.
When the gene-stealers succeeded in sending their message, expressions of terror or unease appeared on their faces.
Once the Tyranid fleet arrived here, it would consume all biomass.
They needed to resolve this problem as quickly as possible. Even if the planet could not be saved, they could not allow the Tyranid fleet to gain anything from it.
"Therefore, gentlemen," Danaken declared, "I propose that we initiate the Exterminatus to prevent a swarm from being summoned to this system and to serve the Imperium's long-term interests."
"The Dominator and its escort fleet's macro-cannons, lance torpedoes, and vortex torpedoes are currently at full combat readiness."
"Targets: all major population centers, industrial zones, and any region with large concentrations of people across the planet."
"Execute saturation orbital bombardment until the surface melts and all signals cease completely."
After the Admiral's speech, the bridge fell into even deeper silence.
The thought that orbital bombardment would wipe out tens of billions of lives on the planet's surface and reduce them to ash was truly cruel and horrifying.
A young officer's Adam's apple bobbed slightly. He seemed to want to say something but hesitated.
Another veteran captain sighed, but quickly composed himself, his eyes filled with determination.
Just then—
Shizzle...
A spinning green portal of light suddenly appeared, drawing everyone's attention.
The surrounding security personnel immediately raised their weapons and disengaged the safeties.
In that instant, a figure emerged wearing extremely exaggerated armor adorned with spikes and bones, radiating the cold aura of death.
The overall design was dominated by dark tones, ice blue, and bone white. The helmet's shape evoked a roaring skull crowned in thorns. The shoulder pads were massive like tombstones, and behind him fluttered a tattered cloak woven from shadow and ice, rippling even without wind.
He simply stood there, exuding an invisible oppressive pressure, like the Grim Reaper returned from the underworld.
"Enemy attack!!"
"Protect the Admiral!"
"..."
Across the entire bridge, fully armed naval security personnel reacted swiftly, rushing out from their stations.
They simultaneously leveled their hot-melt guns and laser guns.
Dozens of glaring red targeting points instantly locked onto the unwelcome guest's head, chest, joints, and other vital organs.
The officers instinctively retreated. Some drew sidearms, others sought cover. Terror was written across their faces.
What kind of decent human being would wear such horrifying armor? Clearly a servant of Chaos.
"Um… has my message still not reached these people's ears?"
Datch immediately understood it was due to his low favorability. The time had come to reveal his unfathomable background.
In this world, connections and origins mattered more than fighting or killing.
"If you don't want to be charged with treason, put your weapons away."
Upon hearing this, the soldiers on the bridge exchanged glances, sensing one another's confusion and bewilderment, but no one lowered their guns. The muzzles remained pointed at Datch.
Datch took out the Inquisitorial medal.
"How dare you obstruct the work of the Inquisition? Are you committing treason?"
One must never question the Inquisition's standing within the Imperium of Man.
In other words, the Inquisition dared to handle individuals that other departments would not touch.
Even people other departments hesitated to kill, the Inquisition had the courage to execute.
Execution first, notification later. This was the privilege granted by the Emperor's authority.
The moment the Inquisition's name was announced, its impact appeared instantly.
The air on the bridge seemed to freeze. The red targeting points on Datch began to flicker.
The security personnel's fingers froze on the trigger guards, caught in a dilemma.
The officers exchanged bewildered looks. Their hostility swiftly turned into surprise and unease.
Admiral Danaken walked over to Datch, accepted the seal for inspection, and after a moment, looked up, returned the seal to Datch, and signaled the security personnel to lower their weapons.
The Admiral then took a step back, straightened his posture, and performed a loud, powerful Aquila salute.
"Your Excellency, Nameless Inquisitor, please forgive our earlier rudeness. The situation is tense, and we remain in a state of constant high alert."
The others exchanged glances, set down their weapons, and saluted Datch.
A smile appeared at the corner of Datch's mouth. Was this the feeling of power?
Even if they were just a bunch of NPCs, it was still quite appealing.
He took back the seal and stated his mission bluntly.
"Lord Regent of the Dark Imperium, Lord Sanguinius, has granted me full authority regarding the handling of the xenos contamination incident in the Lontian star system."
"Please provide a detailed report on the current local situation."
Danaken led Datch to the strategy table, activated the data projection screen, and explained the situation.
"As you can see, Your Excellency, there are no longer any organized Imperial loyalist forces on the surface."
"The gene-stealing xenos have seized control of military forces such as the Planetary Defense Forces and noble guard units through infection and genetic manipulation."
"Their rebellion was highly organized and quickly dismantled the main resistance forces."
"However," Danaken changed the subject, "the enemy has focused primarily on infiltrating the military and ruling class. They have not carried out large-scale infections or massacres of the civilian population."
"Preliminary estimates suggest that approximately ten billion civilians still remain on the surface, scattered across the mid- and lower levels of various hive cities, farmlands, and shelters."
Upon hearing this, Datch was surprised.
To prevent a potential massive Tyranid swarm, would they really have to reduce tens of billions of Imperial citizens—who were not yet fully infected—to ash along with the xenomorphs and traitors?
Datch glanced around at the crowd on the bridge and realized they were all as ruthlessly cold as Genghis Khan.
Seeing Datch's silence, Danaken asked cautiously, "Your Excellency, shall we proceed with the extermination order?"
"Or are you proposing a ground assault?"
The moment he finished speaking, conversation options appeared before Datch's eyes.
[Option 1: Approve Purification. For the sake of the Imperium, thorough purification is necessary. Approve the orbital bombardment to completely eradicate the source of contamination. The Emperor's property must not be defiled by xenos. Even if the cost is tens of billions of souls.]
[Option 2: Save the Innocent. Every Imperial citizen is an irreplaceable asset to the Emperor and a seed for the future. You will personally descend to the surface, eliminate the alien leaders, rescue the innocent civilians, and prevent the bombardment plan.]
The choice was clear: a cold, efficiency-focused approach, or a compassionate, rescue-oriented one.
Since he intended to follow the Imperial route this time, he could not rely on merciless slaughter if he wanted a perfect ending.
Datch raised his head, looked at Danaken, and said:
"Admiral Danaken, your loyalty and decisiveness are commendable."
"However, do not forget that every citizen of the Imperium is an irreplaceable and precious asset to the Emperor."
"We are the Emperor's sword and shield. Our duty is to eliminate threats and protect the people, not to hastily decide which of the Emperor's assets to destroy."
Datch looked around at the many NPCs surrounding him, and his aura surged dramatically.
"I will personally descend to the surface of Lontian to deal with the sources of xenos contamination and, if possible, rescue any Imperial citizens who have not yet been fully corrupted."
Danaken frowned as he glanced at the empty space behind Datch.
"Your Excellency, your mercy is praiseworthy. However, according to intelligence, the surface is occupied by a highly organized xenos cult. Its leaders are deeply hidden and may command numerous controlled armed forces."
"To achieve your goals, you will need at least one Astartes company for decapitation and purge operations, or multiple elite, large-scale Imperial Guard regiments for ground sweeps and occupation."
"You appear to have nothing with you…"
Datch ignored Danaken and pulled out his teleportation gun alone.
How dare a mere NPC question the Player? No explanation was needed. Results would speak for themselves.
He pulled the trigger on the ground. The teleportation portal opened, and he headed straight for the surface.
An eerie silence fell over the bridge.
Everyone exchanged glances, their faces filled with confusion.
No one could understand how that nameless figure could teleport so easily.
"Admiral, what should we do?" the colonel beside him asked.
Danaken frowned, sighed, and said, "Wait."
"How long must we wait?" the colonel asked. "The longer we wait, the stronger the signal sent to the insectoid fleet wandering other star systems will become."
"Nine hours. If there is no contact within nine hours, execute the orbital bombardment on Lontian regardless of how many uninfected people remain on the surface."
Danaken turned around, swept his gaze across every security officer, and put on a resolute expression.
"When the time comes, immediately carry out the bombardment order and conduct indiscriminate orbital strikes on Lontian."
...
On the surface of Planet Lontian, atop the high walls of the hive capital.
As the sun set, the daytime heat was eased by a gentle breeze.
On the ramparts, the sentry Chaken, clad in shell armor, was on patrol duty.
The flag of the Claw Prophet fluttered in the wind. Against a deep purple background was a twisted world serpent with its head and tail entwined.
Seeing these flags filled Chaken with pride and a sense of mission.
Not long ago, he had been just like countless others—an ignorant slave of the Imperium, blinded by lies and tyranny.
Until the blessed children emerged from the darkness and revealed the truth to them.
The great and merciful Genestealer Patriarch, symbol of evolution and collective ascension, was the true essence of the universe.
They had succeeded in their rebellion, overthrown the corrupt Imperial rule, and liberated the innocent people of the world.
Chaken believed it would not be long before the great Genestealer Patriarch sensed their piety and devotion and sent an invincible fleet to guide them.
At that time, all their brethren across the world would ascend to a realm of eternal harmony and happiness, free from pain and oppression.
Chaken looked forward to that day.
Turning a corner on the ramparts, where sandbags and repair tools were piled up, Chaken encountered his smiling colleague, the patrolman Hal.
"The Day of Ascension awaits us, brothers," Chaken said in a low, expectant voice.
"I truly look forward to its swift arrival," Hal nodded vigorously, his eyes burning with fervent devotion.
"Whenever I think of our foolishness in kneeling before that false Emperor, I always feel ashamed."
"A liar who can only subdue us with guns and oppressive policies," Chaken repeated, raising his head to look at the warships floating in the sky. Intense anger and contempt welled up in his heart.
"I cannot understand why some among our people still stubbornly choose to believe the words of that hypocritical liar rather than turn their eyes to the glory granted by the Four-Armed Emperor. It is truly a great tragedy."
"Exactly," Hal's voice grew excited as well.
"But we will never give up. Even if it costs our lives and souls, we will uphold the true faith and guide humanity toward a brighter future."
"Those fools will either awaken one day, or else…"
Hal had not finished speaking.
A faint rustling sound came from the shadows.
Immediately afterward, three figures slowly emerged from the crenellations of the wall.
When they realized who it was, Chaken and Hal excitedly dropped to one knee in a hurry.
The visitors were none other than the blessed sons of the Four-Armed Emperor—His most beloved children.
Each possessed auxiliary limbs ending in sharp tri-bladed claws capable of slicing through iron like mud, and at the tips of their broad palms grew diamond-hard sharp talons.
Their appearance greatly excited Chaken and Hal.
These adorable children were so beautiful that one could forget to breathe at first glance.
Their jet-black skin was mottled with ivory markings symbolizing the great Prophet. They wore the same armor as Chaken and his subordinates.
Their bodies transcended the shackles imposed by the evil Emperor. The exposed third arm was a sacred symbol of asymmetry. To witness it even once was a great honor bestowed by the Four-Armed Emperor.
The blessed sons had simply come to inspect the defensive conditions of the ramparts.
The great Prophet had foretold that the Emperor's lackeys would soon launch an attack, and they must make every preparation.
At that moment, a sudden change occurred.
Not ten meters away from Chaken and his group, a green portal of light suddenly appeared.
Datch, clad in Lich King-style armor, stepped forward and materialized beside Chaken and the others.
The instant he appeared, he had already raised the Frost Bomb Gun in his hands, took aim, and fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three short, powerful explosions.
The specially designed explosives tore through the air and struck the heads of the three newly born sons with unparalleled precision.
No screams were heard—only dull popping sounds.
The thieves' heads exploded like overripe fruit, but the freezing power built into the bombs instantly froze them solid.
The three rigid, cunning corpses twitched once, then thudded heavily to the ground.
Everything had happened far too quickly and too suddenly.
Chaken finally snapped out of his shock and rage at having his faith trampled.
Only when blood splattered across his face did he regain his senses.
"Enemy attack! Open fire!"
"For the great Prophet! For the Four-Armed Emperor!"
Chaken shouted at the top of his lungs.
Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!
Blinding laser beams sliced through the night sky with sharp screeching sounds, raining down on Datch!
The laser beams struck Datch's power armor but bounced off without leaving even a white mark.
Datch turned toward the cunning-infected human soldiers, put away the bomb gun, drew his magic beam gun, and opened fire on them.
When the beams hit Chaken and the other soldiers, they felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over them from head to toe.
The fanatical thoughts about the "Four-Armed Emperor," "Ascension," and "blessed children," along with the implanted false emotions in their minds, melted away like ice and snow under a blazing sun.
In their place, their own long-suppressed memories and awareness returned.
When Chaken and the other soldiers regained consciousness, their eyes looked completely different.
Seeing the alien corpses lying on the ground, they were overcome with extreme disgust and terror.
"These monsters are abominable. How could we ever have revered them as sacred while the Emperor watches over us?"
The other soldiers who had regained their senses wore similar expressions.
Such deformed and ugly xenos should not be allowed to live.
The Emperor should immediately dispatch His angels to completely annihilate them and purify this universe.
Seeing the ordinary soldiers regain their sanity, Datch took out the Inquisitorial seal.
"I am the Nameless Grand Inquisitor, dispatched to eradicate the xenos monsters on this land."
"You have now escaped the enemy's control. Will you swear loyalty to His Majesty the Emperor and join me in defeating the xenos to reclaim this world for the Emperor?"
Chaken, Hal, and the others exchanged glances. After a brief hesitation, they picked up their weapons and followed Datch.
"For the Emperor! Purify the xenos!"
"Slaughter all those monsters!"
"This world belongs to humanity!"
Shouts rose and fell. The conscious soldiers were filled with rage and wished to tear the culprits apart immediately.
Datch nodded in satisfaction.
"Come, let us defeat that detestable cunning chieftain and reclaim this world for the Emperor."
Leading the newly awakened soldiers, Datch began the counterattack against the hive.
He release those with shapeshifting abilities, allowing them to transform into various forms to aid resistance forces in capturing fortresses and key strongpoints.
This strategy proved highly effective. The whimsical spirits could easily sow confusion among the enemy.
Release Skarbrand, Zarhulash, and the Masque of Slaanesh as the vanguard.
Leave treatment of the wounded to Pugh and Orange.
As they advanced, they quickly encountered numerous corrupted local defense forces and armed civilians.
These people, like the previous Chaken, had fanatical eyes. They shouted heretical slogans and opened fire on Datch and his subordinates.
Most of these enemies were not truly cunning, but corrupted.
Even those originally loyal to the Emperor, once they fell into the hands of the cunning thieves, had thick, saliva-covered tentacles forced into their mouths to inject distorted DNA.
They warped the infected's bodies and wills, turning them into the most loyal slaves of the Tyranids.
Datch did not slaughter these people, because they too were innocent.
He used his magic beam gun to transform them from monsters back into humans.
One after another, purifying beams were fired.
The fanatical emotions in the soldiers' and civilians' eyes vanished instantly. Their expressions shifted from ferocious to blank.
Then, just like Chaken and the others, they experienced shock, lingering terror, and deep self-loathing.
Afterward, these people joined Datch's group. The group snowballed in size.
What began as a dozen or so people on the ramparts grew to dozens, then hundreds, then thousands…
They took up weapons, gathered more enlightened people, and formed an unstoppable torrent of resistance.
Driven by deep-seated hatred for the xenos and shouting loyalty to the Emperor, they charged.
Datch and the creatures he had summoned stormed toward all known xenos strongholds within the hive.
The news quickly reached the center of the hive—the Grand Prophet's Temple, which had once been the Governor's mansion.
The gene-stealing cult leader, bishops, commanders, and other high-ranking members of the cult were all inside the temple.
Upon receiving reports that the blessed children had suffered catastrophic defeat on the front lines and that many believers had defected to swear loyalty to the Emperor, they all wore bewildered expressions.
Those soldiers and civilians had all received divine revelation and were infected with the swarm's DNA.
Logically, their genes should have already been imprinted with absolute loyalty to the Four-Armed Emperor and hatred and contempt for the false Emperor.
This was a distortion at the genetic level. How could they possibly regain their sanity and swear loyalty to the Emperor again?
Had the hive's will been possessed by the Emperor?
The Genestealer Cult's executives were puzzled by this.
They continued to think so until they watched video messages sent by the multiple commanders directing the battle.
Only then did they realize that humans could spread the infection to their own kind who had been corrupted by them.
This was ridiculous. Could a single shot from that beam gun really reverse genetic contamination?
...
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