A pinkish-red wooden door suddenly appeared before Dante's desk, standing in the room's dim firelight, reflecting faint reddish gleams.
Outside, the Scarlet Scar tore through the sky, but in Dante's eyes, this pinkish-red wooden door was even more terrifying.
He swiftly, yet without panic, grabbed the meltagun by his hand. This meltagun, a relic of Dark Age technology, was powerful enough to burn through the chitinous armor of a Tyranid Behemoth, yet it brought Dante little sense of security.
He knew what lay behind the door.
A Warp entity not yet ascended to its full power, an object of faith known as the Death Chosen, original power, and the eternal dragon.
Dante was unsure how much power this Warp entity had squeezed into its current material form. If Mephiston stood beside him, he might be able to make a more accurate judgment.
But now, Mephiston might have already sided with that Warp entity.
Click—
The wooden door gently opened in the room, and a gust of hot desert wind howled in, blowing against Dante's face and making the room's candlelight flicker.
A man in a linen robe and a cowboy hat slowly walked out from behind the door.
The man's face resembled the people of the Dragon States in Ancient Terra's East.
The moment he saw that face, Dante felt the meltagun in his hand tremble slightly. He could sense that this old companion, which had been with him for many years, was feeling excited, yet at the same time, somewhat reluctant to fire at that man.
The man walked out of the wooden door, facing the wind and sand, followed by Mephiston in his crimson power armor.
Mephiston's pale hair swayed in the wind, and his ashen face, illuminated by the Scarlet Scar behind the door, appeared particularly terrifying, as if he were an attendant beside the God of Death.
"Good evening, Lord Dante," the man said with a smile.
His smile perfectly conveyed sincerity, making him very approachable and involuntarily inspiring trust.
Dante's expression stiffened, and he quickly suppressed the instinctive trust rising in his mind towards the man. Is this some kind of Warp power? It doesn't seem like it?
The man seemed to notice Dante resisting the affability brought by his smile, so he shrugged and casually closed the wooden door.
The change in air pressure immediately created a small vortex in the room, stirring up the papers on the desk to fly around.
Dante's cheek twitched imperceptibly. These documents were ones he had just organized.
Damn it, he'd have to work overtime to tidy them up again later. Dante hadn't enjoyed sleep for quite some days.
"What should I call you?" Dante weighed his words, putting the Chapter Master's mask back on his face, suppressing everything belonging to the salt seller's child deep within his heart: "Alexander? Doraemon? Leman Russ? Neoth? Or something else?"
"Just call me Alexander," the man, who called himself Alexander, nodded slightly. His voice was gentle yet profound, like an extremely trustworthy elder: "In an almost forgotten language of Ancient Terra's East, this word means 'circling clouds'."
As expected, it's related to the Dragon States. Dante had read scattered records about the Dragon States in the Chapter's archives.
He knew that kingdom once existed in the eastern part of the Terra Imperial Palace, a union of several Ancient Terra nations from the past.
It was said that at the end of the Unification Wars, this kingdom vanished in a strange self-immolation. Later, Astartes had set foot on the lands of this kingdom, discovering many ruins but unable to unravel the mystery of its disappearance.
Moreover, to Dante's knowledge, during the Great Crusade, Malcador, the then-Sigillite, was once accompanied by a swordsman from the Dragon States. That swordsman could even spar with Lucius, a famous swordsman from the Emperor's Children Legion.
Additionally, the White Scars and their Primarch had cultural ties to the Dragon States, and the traitorous Thousand Sons seemed to know certain secrets of the Dragon States.
Dante gazed at the face of the person before him.
Could it be that this individual's birth is related to the Dragon States?
Then he must not be a young entity recently born in the Warp, but one that has existed for at least ten thousand years.
"Commander Dante," the man calling himself Alexander subtly raised the corner of his mouth, continuing in that trust-inspiring voice: "I have come to fulfill a promise made to the Lord of Baal. You should understand what I'm referring to."
Lord of Baal?
Upon hearing this, Dante paused slightly, then quickly understood he was referring to Sanguinius.
Indeed, he is connected to the prophecy Mephiston brought, the Archangel's return.
Dante's gaze fell on Mephiston beside him. Mephiston subtly trembled.
A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face, imperceptibly, as he clearly sensed the suspicion and scrutiny in Dante's gaze.
At least in Dante's view, Mephiston had trusted this Warp entity far too quickly, for whatever reason.
After his embarrassment, Mephiston nodded slightly to Dante, indicating that Dante's guess was correct.
"My Lord."
Mephiston slowly spoke. His voice was still so somber, but it now carried hesitation:
"Let us not dwell on formalities. Many things we cannot speak of directly, but we both know that the future of the Blood Angels, and indeed the entire Imperium of Man, hangs by a thread. You, as the Lord of Baal, are able to offer assistance."
"This Lord is the object of faith for the Saint Doraemon cult. You and I both know this intimately. I have personally infiltrated two of the Saint Doraemon cults; whether it was the death-worshipping one or the relatively mild one, I studied their behaviors and meticulously searched for traces of corruption and ignorance. Yet, I found no blemish."
As Mephiston spoke, the hesitation in his tone gradually vanished, becoming resolute instead:
"Similarly, I found no blemish on this Lord. Jaghatai Khan also did not declare him to be our enemy; instead, he admonished us to make our own choices. And I see hope in this Lord!"
"He must be the hope Sanguileno spoke of, the hope that still exists. I have made my choice; I will trust this Lord."
"This is the hope to save us and the entire Imperium. Please make your decision. Perhaps from your perspective, there is some risk."
"Some risk?" Dante raised his voice: "We all know what consequences the last 'some risk' brought about."
"I can see hope, and I can also see the shadows that might hide behind hope. Will the decision I make ultimately bring hope, or something twisted?"
Dante's gaze rested on Alexander and Mephiston.
Through Mephiston's words, Dante had already perceived what the two desired.
They wanted to go to Sanguinius' tomb, to reach Sanguinius' remains.
And would what returned from Sanguinius' remains be their gene-father? Or another twisted monster?
Was everything before him a deception? A deception prepared from the underworld? Was it a conspiracy prepared by the Lord of Change or other Chaos Gods?
Even if not, would Sanguinius, resurrected by this Warp entity, still be as pure as before, untouched by the erosion of this Warp entity?
Dante did not want to become Abaddon, he did not want Mephiston to be Erebus, he did not want Sanguinius to suffer the fate of Horus, and he certainly did not want the Blood Angels to repeat the mistakes of Horus' Sons.
And recalling the blue wings and light he had seen several times, Dante couldn't help but feel hesitant.
Would it be Sanguinius returning, or a second Horus? This was a question Dante had to face with caution.
Alexander noticed the doubt on Dante's face. He sighed inwardly.
It's all Erebus' fault!
Oh, and Fabius!
These two old bastards ruined the reputation of our Primarch resurrection business! What gets resurrected is either corrupted or inauthentic.
Sooner or later, I'll drag Belisarius Cawl from next door to beat these two old bastards up.
Hmm, or give Erebus two beatings.
While Alexander complained inwardly, he subtly tapped the hot clapperboard & robot director hat in his pocket, reactivating its acting effect.
Suddenly, Alexander felt as if the acting skills of all the excellent actors across forty millennia of humanity had converged upon him.
He took a slight step forward, and in a deep, convincing voice, he said:
"Louis of Baal II, son of the salt seller Aereas, Salt Boy, Dante."
Dante's pupils sharply contracted, and he leaned back slightly.
Many warriors knew the name Louis, but only Dante himself remembered the name Aereas.
And Salt Boy… that name had been used by two of his companions during his trials. One of them died during the trials, and the other also failed to become a true Blood Angel. That name should have been forgotten.
"Is this some Warp sorcery? Are you prying into my past?" Dante's face showed vigilance.
Alexander's expression was calm; he seemed completely unfazed by Dante's accusation. Instead, he took another step forward, walking right up to Dante.
"Do you wish to believe this is Warp sorcery or destiny, hope, and responsibility?"
"I met a girl in Ashford who told me that if everything is the Emperor's arrangement, then it is the best arrangement."
Dante's face showed a hint of horror.
"We chose you, Dante," Alexander said softly: "Even when you were young, when you first killed to protect your tribe, and when you cried in the midnight for the loss of life, we chose you."
Alexander looked at Dante with care and pity in his eyes, as if he were an elder who had watched Dante grow up from childhood.
"No!" Dante's face showed a hint of panic. He seemed to realize what Alexander was about to say.
"Have you forgotten, Louis Dante?"
Alexander continued in a calm tone:
"After you argued with your father Aereas, on that night when the lights went out, you secretly snuck out of your family's landspeeder, stealing Ourini's desert bike. That bike was the fastest in the tribe; its lumen lights alone cost Ourini half a year's wages."
Dante's expression grew even more horrified; his body trembled slightly.
"But you still got lost in the desert. The salt cracks swallowed Ourini's desert bike, and you had almost drunk all your water, on the verge of death."
"But we were still watching you then, Dante. Sanguinius watched you, and I smiled from the side."
"You still remember what you saw, who guided you, don't you?"