Fogremia's cautious question echoed for a long time in this extreme silence.
Leticia did not turn back immediately.
Her gaze pierced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bridge and fell upon that magnificent and deadly Subspace landscape, which could not be described in words.
Terrania had already fallen asleep against her legs, her long golden eyelashes trembling slightly like two delicate little fans.
Even in her sleep, her little hand was still tightly, unconsciously clutching the corner of Leticia's clothing.
Leticia reached out and gently, tenderly tucked a strand of golden hair that had fallen onto Terrania's cheek behind her ear.
After completing this action, she turned around to look at her perfect sister who had just been reborn.
"Fogremia."
Leticia's voice was calm, as if stating an indisputable truth that had existed since the beginning of the universe.
"It is not that I trust her intuition."
She paused, and deep within her pure black eyes, it seemed as if a newborn nebula was slowly rotating, reflecting Fogremia's face, which looked even more stunningly beautiful in its confusion.
"Rather, my entire existence is for the sake of protecting her."
"The sorrow she feels is the pain I must soothe."
"The direction she points to is the battlefield where my blade is directed."
"Regardless of whether it is a den of dragons and tigers or a bottomless abyss. Regardless of the price to be paid, or the formidable enemies to be faced."
Leticia's words carried no emotional embellishment, nor any impassioned rhetoric.
Yet every word was like a heavy hammer forged from the laws of the beginning of creation, striking fiercely and precisely against Fogremia's soul.
Fogremia's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Her powerful mind, belonging to a Primarch and accustomed to measuring everything with cold logic and extreme aesthetics, completely stalled at this moment.
She finally understood.
She completely grasped it.
Terrania, that seemingly fragile, timid Blonde Girl who needed everyone's protection...
She was not a member of this team whose value needed to be assessed.
She was the... only value for which this team existed.
She was not a passenger on this ark who needed to be protected.
She was the... only beacon for this ark's voyage.
She was the anchor for Leticia, this goddess.
She was her reverse scale.
She was her... Dao heart.
All calculations of efficiency, all assessments of risk, and all the pride and rationality rooted deep in the soul that belonged to the "Phoenix" Fulgrim, were shattered in the face of this absolute, uncompromising, and purely extreme declaration of protection.
Replacing it was a brand new awareness that was hotter, clearer, and made her soul tremble.
She, Fogremia, was the goddess's First Knight.
The meaning of her sword's existence was to cut away all thorns on the path for the goddess.
Then, protecting the goddess's Dao heart, protecting this little Princess...
Was the... highest mission among all the missions of her, the First Knight.
Having figured this out, Fogremia felt the last piece of her soul's puzzle click perfectly into place.
All previous confusion and all the cognitive inertia belonging to the former Primarch vanished at this moment.
She no longer had any doubts.
Fogremia stepped back, smoothed out the hem of her silk dress, and then, with unprecedented piety and solemnity, bowed her noble head—which she had once been unwilling to lower to anyone—deeply towards Leticia and the sleeping Terrania beside her.
"I understand, my goddess."
Her voice carried a hint of a tremor from being completely conquered, yet it was incomparably firm.
"Protecting the Princess will also be the highest glory of Fogremia's life."
A look of gratification finally appeared on Leticia's face.
She knew that from this moment on, the core of the Genesis Sisterhood could be considered truly stable.
"Beep—beep—beep—"
Just then, a rapid but not harsh alert sound broke the sacred atmosphere within the bridge.
A gentle female electronic voice followed.
"Master, we have arrived at the periphery of the target star system and are exiting Subspace travel."
The view outside the bridge instantly changed from the violent colorful tides to the deep, cold, pitch-black universe.
A huge planet, wrapped in a murky, rust-colored and dirty gray-yellow atmosphere, floated quietly in the distance.
Griffin IV.
Even from a great distance, one could sense the suffocating aura emitted by that planet, a mixture of industrial exhaust, despair, and Decay.
"What a... completely unaesthetic planet."
Fogremia straightened her body, looked at that ugly planet, and expressed her undisguised disgust, born from the instincts of an artist.
Leticia did not care about her evaluation.
She walked to the main console and closed her eyes.
"Activate remote psychic detection and connect to my consciousness."
"As you command."
Hum—
An invisible, massive psychic ripple, transcending the speed of light and the laws of physics, instantly swept across the entire planet of Griffin IV, with the genesis at its center.
The power of [Intellect], fully activated.
Countless chaotic and fragmented pieces of information, like a bursting flood, poured into Leticia's mind in an instant.
She "heard" it.
She heard the dull roar of Bolters and the piercing screech of Chainswords.
She heard the desperate prayers of the Astra Militarum Soldiers in the communication channels, mixed with fear and numbness.
"We can't hold! The fifth tunnel has fallen! There are too many of them!"
"My leg! Save me! In the name of the Emperor, save me!"
She also "heard" it.
She heard the blasphemous praises issued by those Cultists towards some unknown evil god amidst their fanatical slaughter.
"Flesh! More flesh for The Spider Mother!"
"Feel this gift! Mortal! Attain ascension through pain!"
Two completely different voices intertwined into a war symphony full of blood and madness.
But above this chaotic noise, there was another will, standing in the center of the storm like a piece of steel frozen for ten thousand years.
That will had no fanaticism, no despair, only absolute, cold, inhuman discipline.
Leticia's psychic power "saw" a scene.
Behind a crumbling position, an Imperial Commissar wearing a black greatcoat and a peaked cap with a skull emblem raised the Bolter pistol in his hand, expressionless.
In front of him knelt a young soldier who had attempted to flee.
"Cowards do not deserve the Emperor's forgiveness."
The cold voice carried not a ripple of emotion.
Bang!
The Bolter fired, and the young soldier's head exploded into a mist of blood.
The Political Commissar retracted his pistol, not even bothering to glance at the corpse. He turned around and scanned the soldiers trembling in fear around him with eyes colder than the steel ground beneath his feet.
"The next one who dares to retreat will meet the same fate."
"Now, get back to your posts."
"For the Imperium."
Leticia slowly opened her eyes.
She already understood the situation of the entire battlefield.
A glimmer of amusement flashed in those pure black eyes.
"The situation is... a bit more interesting than I imagined."
Fogremia cast an inquiring look.
Leticia walked to her side and raised a finger to point at the mining area on the holographic screen where the fighting was most intense.
"Our 'client' seems to be caught in a standard Imperial tragedy."
"An army with collapsed morale, fanatical enemies who don't fear death, and a Commander who only knows how to maintain discipline through slaughter."
A subtle arc appeared at the corner of Leticia's mouth.
"I think they must really need a little surprise from beyond the heavens right now."
She turned around, faced the main console, and issued new orders.
"genesis, activate optical camouflage and silent cruising mode, enter the atmosphere."
"Target, the airspace above the main mining area C-5 position."
"As you command, my master."
The holy spaceship silently, like a harmless cloud dyed gray by industrial exhaust, merged into the murky sky of Griffin IV.
It glided silently and hovered above the mining battlefield engulfed in artillery fire.
On the bridge's main screen, Leticia used the ship's holographic magnification function to precisely lock onto the cold figure who had just executed the deserter.
The Imperial Commissar was standing on a high ground of a temporary bunker, indifferently watching through binoculars as the soldiers under his command were swallowed one by one by the tide of surging Cultists.
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