Amidst the vast yellow sands, a pipe entrance loomed indistinctly.
The edges of this pipe were broken, jutting diagonally out of the desert. Its material was a kind of blackish metal, covered in scratches left by time, yet strangely, this metal showed no rust at all. It was as if it had been newly cast and then thrown into the desert not long after.
Alexander, wearing a GSC face, reached out his hand from under his robe and touched the metal pipe.
Long before humans colonized Baal, this planet was once inhabited by an alien species.
As time passed, these aliens vanished into history, and their civilization crumbled to dust, with only the ruins of numerous cities buried beneath the endless yellow sands.
The pipe before Alexander was clearly a remnant of that ancient alien civilization, now occupied by genestealer and serving as their headquarters.
According to the two GSCs, this headquarters was quite substantial.
Alexander adjusted the robe draped over him, pulled the Fire Scorpion behind him, and entered the pipe.
The pipe was wide enough to accommodate the Fire Scorpion, which was four or five meters across. Following the directions of the two GSCs, Alexander began to navigate the complex network of pipes. Before long, a heavy, circular gate appeared before him.
Strangely, this gate was inverted within the pipe.
Complex patterns were carved into the gate. Alexander tilted his head, examining the patterns on the gate.
The GSCs had sprayed a lot of paint on the gate, but the carvings were deep enough that the paint couldn't completely obscure them.
Alexander could still vaguely make out that the patterns on the gate depicted two winged angels circling each other.
The two angels were one gold and one black. The golden one was sacred and pure, like the morning sun's fierce fire, while the black one was furious and mad, like blood-red dark clouds.
The two angels seemed to be engaged in an eternal struggle, yet their wings subtly overlapped, seemingly hinting at a commonality between them.
Alexander knew this was the faith of the extinct alien race.
The aliens who first lived on Baal worshipped two angels, Golden and Dark, who engaged in an endless struggle in the Sea of Souls.
Later, this alien race disappeared into history, but the human race that subsequently colonized Baal was still influenced by this faith.
What truly puzzled Alexander was that the angels in the alien carvings on the gate had human faces.
Logically, when this carving was completed, humans should not have yet arrived on Baal, and it was unlikely that those aliens looked exactly like humans.
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly.
Some people believe that the Dark Angel in this faith represents the curses that plague the Blood Angels—the Black Rage and Bloodthirst.
Before Alexander could ponder further, the gate slowly opened with a slight tremor.
"Password," a sharp voice rang out from behind the door.
Alexander's expression remained unchanged as he whispered to the door, "The blood of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings lives forever, the soul of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings is eternally enshrined."
This was the password he had learned from the two GSCs.
It contained the beliefs of the Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings cult.
They believed that the blood of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings flowed in their veins, and that blood, in addition to carrying the genetic sequence of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings, also carried fragments of his soul.
This was also why every descendant of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings could hear his whispers.
Of course, Alexander knew that the voices they heard were merely from the Tyranid hive mind.
The gate creaked open.
A large, mutated creature stood behind the door, opening it for Alexander.
This special type of genestealer had a larger body but relatively lower intelligence.
Beside this giant mutated creature stood an ordinary genestealer, draped in a robe.
"Logans?" The genestealer seemed to recognize the owner of the face Alexander was using.
It looked Alexander and the Fire Scorpion behind him up and down, then asked, "Where is your brother, Karl Jane?"
Alexander's face immediately showed a perfectly calibrated sadness, his body trembling slightly at the right frequency, as if suppressing inner pain.
"He's dead," Alexander said in a hoarse voice, feigning unwillingness to discuss it further, yet glancing at the Fire Scorpion behind him.
The genestealer opened its mouth, seemingly assuming that Karl Jane had died during the hunt for the Fire Scorpion.
But seeing the sadness on Alexander's face and hearing the hoarseness in his voice, the words it wanted to ask got stuck in its throat.
Finally, the genestealer could only nod, signaling Alexander that he could put down the Fire Scorpion and enter the stronghold.
Alexander put down the Fire Scorpion and, following the information he had learned from the two GSCs, pretended to be familiar with the place as he walked towards the entrance of the stronghold.
It was a circular manhole cover lying on the ground. Alexander reached out, lifted the cover, and climbed in, landing on a path made of rusted metal beneath the cover.
He looked up at the GSC cult stronghold before him, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Before Alexander was an entire underground city. The buildings here were all cast from black metal, resembling black bubbles, hanging down from the ceiling, revealing a unique, non-human aesthetic.
Most uniquely, the entire city was inverted, as if it had been completely flipped over.
The pipe Alexander had just entered when he arrived in this city was actually the city's sewer. Now, above his head were the roads built by the ancient alien civilization.
The rusted metal path underfoot was clearly added later by the genestealer, suspended between the inverted buildings.
And those former bubble-shaped metal high-rises had become the pillars of this inverted city, supporting a space underground.
This was clearly an ancient alien city, which for some reason had been completely overturned but remained relatively intact.
Later, the genestealer discovered an entrance to this city from the complex pipes in the desert and converted it into their stronghold.
They called it Sheath Wing Fortress, treating it as their fortress-monastery.
No wonder the Blood Angels hadn't found the Genestealer stronghold.
This city must have been buried deep in the desert for countless ages.
Alexander walked along the rusted metal path suspended in mid-air, looking around the ancient city.
In the center of the city stood a statue, originally meant to depict the Golden Angel descending from the sky and overpowering the Dark Angel.
However, the entire city had been inverted, so the scene depicted by the statue naturally became the Dark Angel on top and the Golden Angel below.
"Lion El'Jonson on top, Sanguinius on the bottom?" Alexander couldn't help but let a smile curl his lips.
Sanguinius seemed to flinch.
"..You...seemingly owe...the Lion's fist..."
Fragmented voices came from the Warp. Alexander raised his eyebrows slightly.
He noticed that Sanguinius had become clearer. He wondered if the barrier between the Warp and the real universe was weaker here, or if he had recovered some of his power?
"Hey, hey, can you still talk?" Alexander asked Sanguinius.
However, Sanguinius merely flapped its wings a few times, and fragmented, incoherent sounds flashed past Alexander's ears.
Then Alexander vaguely saw a white light pointing towards a building not far away.
He paused for a moment, curious where Sanguinius was trying to lead him.
He followed the direction indicated by the white light, walking along the metal path suspended in mid-air towards that building.
Upon nearing the building, Alexander realized it was a restaurant converted from an alien structure.
The entrance was a circular opening that used to be a window, with a sign hanging above it, bearing the restaurant's name.
"Sheath Wing and Claw." Alexander read out the restaurant's name, then glanced at the daily menu written next to it.
"Salt-baked Fire Scorpion, braised desert rat, fried dried roots... Quite a feast."
Alexander couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. It seemed these genestealer had even developed a nearly complete social system underground.
When did the Tyranid start coveting Baal?
He withdrew his gaze and pushed the door open, entering the restaurant.
Then, Alexander was slightly stunned.
The restaurant was full of people. genestealer gathered in groups of three or five at tables, chatting lively.
Most of their discussions revolved around the living saint Sanguilius, who was about to descend upon Baal.
But among this group of genestealer, one person stood out remarkably... so remarkably that Alexander's mouth couldn't help but twitch violently.
A man dressed in crimson armor, over two meters tall, with skin as pale as a corpse, hair like silver threads, and a cold, gloomy expression, sat alone in a corner of the restaurant.
Most terrifying was the armor on this man's body, which resembled exposed muscles of a flayed person, with clear textures, deep red like blood, as if subtly pulsating.
Alexander's eye twitched slightly, because he noticed that the genestealer in the restaurant seemed to ignore the man in the corner, as if he were just an ordinary, solitary genestealer.
Chief Librarian Mephiston of the Blood Angels?
How could he be here?
Alexander frowned slightly, immediately guessing that Mephiston must have used psychic powers to distort the perceptions of these genestealer, making him inconspicuous in their eyes.
But in Alexander's impression, Mephiston should currently be preparing a ritual to deal with Ka'Bandha, having received a prophecy from an Aeldari.
He pondered for a moment, then walked to the table opposite Mephiston, smiling as he spoke to Mephiston in an extremely sincere tone:
"By Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings, brother of the race, do you mind if I share your table?"
"As brothers who also share the blood of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings, you surely wouldn't refuse me, would you?"