Inside the Colosseum, there was a deathly silence.
This land, soaked in blood and sand, welcomed such an eerie peace for the first time.
The roaring and shouting outside the arena, like a storm from another world, were cut off by an invisible wall.
The impacts that shook the earth again and again became the only dull heartbeat in this deathly silence.
Angron stood in the center of this deathly silence.
His massive body, like a mountain, was now like a statue on the verge of collapse, having lost all support.
The chainaxe, stained with the blood of countless lives, lay quietly at his feet like a lifeless toy discarded by a child.
Centuries of rage, centuries of pain, centuries of slaughter... all the cornerstones that built his existence were pulled out from under him in that brief "peace" brought by Leticia.
He was like a person who had struggled in an eternal nightmare for centuries, forcibly awakened for the first time.
After waking up, there was no relief, only a deeper, incomprehensible bewilderment and fear.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What... should I do?
His sky-blue eyes, which had faded of their blood-red hue and appeared somewhat dull, stared straight at Leticia before him.
That gaze no longer held any of the majesty or tyranny belonging to a Primarch, leaving only the most primitive dependency and helplessness, like a newborn beast.
She was the only source of light.
She was the only coordinate.
She was the only real existence in this empty, deathly silent world.
Leticia understood the emotion in his eyes.
It was a child who had been lost for too long, having forgotten where home was, finally seeing a mother's figure.
She said nothing, simply placing her other free hand gently against his forehead, which was covered in hideous circuitry and twisted scars.
Two fair, slender palms, radiating a soft green light, formed the sharpest contrast with that face written full of pain and struggle.
Her movements were as gentle as if touching the most fragile porcelain.
"Don't be afraid."
Leticia's voice was lighter than the sword wind of Fogremia outside the arena, yet firmer than that alloy gate.
The voice carried a dreamlike, soothing power that seeped directly into the chaotic sea of Angron's soul.
"Everything will end."
"This is not death, but a rebirth."
"You will forget the pain, forget the hatred, forget those shackles that do not belong to you."
"You will... come home."
Home...
This word, like a drop of warm spring water, dripped into the parched and cracked field of Angron's heart.
Yet, his body trembled violently in the face of this extreme gentleness.
A destructive instinct, originating from the deepest part of his soul and having coexisted with pain for centuries, let out a final, unwilling shriek.
That was not his will, but the will of the Butcher's Nails.
It was that survival instinct named "rage" that had long since merged with him.
It was afraid.
It was resisting this impending, complete "end."
Angron's muscles tensed uncontrollably once more, and deep within those eyes that had just regained clarity, a faint, familiar blood-red hue struggled to reignite like a candle in the wind.
His body was trembling slightly, as if wanting to break free from the restraint of those two palms.
That was the prisoner's desire for freedom, and also the prisoner's instinctive fear of the unknown world outside the cage.
Just as this final resistance was about to take shape.
A small, golden figure moved.
Terrania, who had been standing in the distance, had a face full of nervousness and heartache.
She looked at the blood-red giant trembling in place, then at Leticia, who was shielding everything with her not-so-broad back.
In her pure golden eyes, a flash of unprecedented determination, not belonging to a child, flickered.
She summoned the greatest courage of her life.
She took a step, cautiously yet without hesitation, and walked behind Leticia.
Then, she reached out her small, warm palm and placed it gently, yet with utmost solemnity, on Leticia's back.
Hum—
A golden psychic energy, pure to the extreme, containing no impurities, and as warm as the rising morning sun, flowed out from Terrania's palm without reservation.
That power did not have the vastness of Vitality, the scorching heat of Battle Intent, the brilliance of Divine Charm, nor the profundity of Intellect.
It was just... pure.
Pure trust.
Pure dependency.
Pure... protection.
That was the reincarnation of the Emperor of Mankind, unconsciously offering the most sincere and unreserved blessing and assistance to her only protector.
Leticia's body trembled slightly.
A warm current, following the point of contact with Terrania's palm, instantly spread through her limbs and bones, pouring into the depths of her soul.
This power did not enhance her authority, but it gave her spirit, which was taut from simultaneously resisting the Butcher's Nails and soothing Angron, unprecedented comfort and support.
It was as if a traveler on a long expedition, at the moment of greatest fatigue, felt the breeze from their hometown.
"Sister..."
"I'm here."
Silent communication was completed on a soul level.
A faint, yet incredibly warm smile curled at the corner of Leticia's mouth.
She slowly closed her eyes.
Those eyes, originally calm, flashed with an unquestionable majesty and determination belonging to a Creator God the moment before they closed.
The time had come.
In her heart, she issued the final, sacred command to the silent system.
"In my name..."
"Correction begins!"
Boom—!!!!
The whole world, as if at this instant, was muted.
The deafening slaughter and roaring outside the arena, the cold rebuke of Fogremia, the frantic door-bashing of the World Eaters... everything lost its meaning at this moment.
A light.
A light, impossible to describe in any language, brilliant to the extreme, mixed with holiness and majesty, erupted from Leticia's petite body!
The light presented a dreamy pink-purple color.
That was the color of the Divine Charm authority pushed to the limit, the ultimate beauty, the source of creation, and supreme charisma enough to make the stars fall for it.
Immediately after, another light lit up.
That was the golden glow of Battle Intent, originating from Terrania but triggered by Leticia's will, representing glory and protection!
Pink-purple and crimson gold.
Two supreme divine powers representing "rebirth" and "protection," like two interwoven cosmic galaxies, spiraled up from Leticia as the center, instantly swallowing Angron's massive, over-three-meter-tall hulking body completely!
The light was so scorching, yet so gentle.
It destroyed nothing; the sand of the Colosseum was not scorched, and the surrounding walls were not melted.
It just... enveloped.
Wherever the light reached, a huge cocoon of light, seemingly constructed of pure energy, rapidly took shape at a speed visible to the naked eye.
On the surface of the cocoon, countless mysterious and sacred runes flowed, constantly appearing, disappearing, and rearranging, as if performing a deep-level, precise surgery originating from the soul and genetic level.
Angron's figure, inside the cocoon of light, became blurred, leaving only a huge and twisted silhouette.
"Roar... Aaaaaah—!!!"
A roar of extreme pain, unlike a human voice, came dully from within the cocoon.
That was the Butcher's Nails making its final, desperate wail.
It was being forcibly stripped, purified, and reshaped, inch by inch, from Angron's soul and nerves by that pink-purple Divine Charm power!
That was a metamorphosis... more painful than birth, more intense than death.
Immediately after, there was the "crack" of bones being crushed and reshaped.
The "crackle" of muscle fibers being decomposed and rewoven.
The "sizzle" of flesh being evaporated and condensed.
The cocoon of light, like a huge, beating heart, pulsed violently.
With every pulse, Angron's silhouette within it underwent earth-shaking changes.
That overly massive, explosive body was being elongated, tightened, becoming more symmetrical and coordinated.
Those rock-hard muscle lines were softening, reconstructing, outlining brand-new curves full of power, yet incredibly supple and graceful.
That head covered in scars and metal circuitry was being repaired by the soft light; hideous wounds were smoothed over, and the cold metal was melted, absorbed, and turned into nutrients for rebirth.
Inside the cocoon, the painful roar gradually changed its tune.
It was no longer a pure, dull roar originating from a male beast.
The timbre was constantly rising, lengthening, as if a rusted, deepest cello was being re-ground, polished, and having its strings calibrated by the most skilled craftsman.
The pain in the roar was rapidly decreasing.
Replacing it was a high-pitched, clear cry, full of endless Battle Intent and unyielding will!
The sound penetrated the constraints of the cocoon and rang out over the silent Colosseum.
It was like the clear ring of a sword, tempered to the extreme, sounding for the first time.
It was also like a lioness, imprisoned for centuries, breaking free from all shackles for the first time, letting out a roar to the whole world, declaring her regained freedom!
Finally.
When the huge cocoon of light pulsed to the extreme.
The moment when all the pain and impurities within were completely purified and reshaped.
A loud, clear cry, full of endless Battle Intent, yet carrying a unique, feminine penetrating power, like a thunderclap tearing through the dawn, burst out from the cocoon!
"Roar—!!!"
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