"The Warmaster will come to accept your surrender."
Gavriel Loken, or rather, the genestealer that claimed to be Gavriel Loken, said this.
Alexander and Mephiston exchanged glances.
Warmaster—only a handful of individuals in human history had earned this title, especially after the Horus Heresy. The title Warmaster seemed to carry an ominous connotation, and the Imperium had almost completely abandoned it.
And the Warmaster mentioned by this 'Gavriel Loken' could only be...
A faint sheen of sweat appeared on Mephiston's forehead beneath his clay mask.
Even knowing it was fake, just the projection of the masses' emotions towards the Warmaster onto a genestealer, Mephiston still felt nervous.
He had personally witnessed Horus' form during the Black Rage and knew what a monster it was.
"Don't panic, Sanguinius assured me that none of these genestealers can harm me." Alexander glanced at Mephiston, speaking in a relaxed tone.
Mephiston's body twitched slightly.
"Did my Lord also say that these genestealers wouldn't harm me?" Mephiston couldn't help but ask.
"..I think so?" Alexander pondered for a moment, his expression a bit confused: "I was too busy plucking his feathers at the time, so I didn't hear clearly."
Mephiston let out an awkward, stiff laugh.
Alexander no longer focused on Mephiston. This was Mephiston; he could certainly take care of himself and didn't need Alexander's extra attention.
He turned his gaze to the genestealer Loken, continuing to observe the scene.
Alexander had a faint feeling that everything unfolding before him was like a play, giving him a strange sense of familiarity.
These three genestealers before him seemed to be merely performing according to a pre-determined script, yet they themselves were unaware of it.
"Will he come now?!" the purple-robed elder asked anxiously.
"I've already signaled the Warmaster," Loken said, looking a bit pained.
He had already reported the current situation to the Warmaster.
The Warmaster respected those who surrendered, was willing to grant them their final honor, and was also curious about that strange Astartes.
Loken gritted his teeth; his hallucinations were becoming more severe.
He seemed not to be standing in the 'Emperor's' lavish palace but in an inverted black iron spire, with the throne in the center of the spire transformed into a grotesque and massive structure pieced together from black scrap metal.
Loken vaguely saw the flow of light and shadow on it.
All these illusions were fleeting, but he gasped, suddenly understanding why the purple-clothed elder insisted on seeing the Warmaster.
"You are not the 'Emperor'!!!" Loken roared: "This is a trap!!"
He suddenly turned his head, his power sword pointing at the invisible entity entrenched on the throne.
The true 'Emperor' had always sat on that throne, remaining invisible, not revealing his form.
He was waiting for the Warmaster to arrive, to ambush and kill him.
A bestial roar erupted, and Loken's vision blurred between illusion and reality, light and shadow constantly shifting, powerful Psyker energy howling through the room.
He suddenly felt as if his chest had been struck by a troop carrier, and he was flung like a blade of grass in a hurricane, crashing heavily against the black iron wall.
Loken coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body slumping limply like a rag doll in the corner.
He saw the light and shadow on the throne constantly swirling, as if a giant beast, five or six meters tall, was entrenched within the gaps of light and shadow.
And the Astartes with the unknown livery and the Psyker Ogryn stood in the Psyker storm stirred up by the beast, a faint Psyker barrier enveloping the two of them.
"Hel—"
Before Loken could finish speaking, a strong flash of teleportation light burst forth in the room, right next to Loken.
"Wolf God!" Loken roared, warning his Primarch.
Within the teleportation light, a majestic giant revealed his form.
It was a giant, much taller than Loken, clad in power armor that was between pale gold and bone white, like the first ray of light when the sun disk rose on Terra, hot and bright, instantly filling the entire room with radiance.
Various runes shimmered on his power armor, the Eye of Terra on his chest adding an extra touch of majesty, and the beast-fur cloak behind him moved with the wind generated by the teleportation, exuding an imposing aura without needing to be angry.
That was the embodiment of human strength, the most perfect warrior.
The moment he appeared, the strange illusions that had plagued Loken's vision thinned and almost vanished.
However, from Alexander's perspective, it was a different story.
He didn't see any glorious and majestic warrior, only a strange genestealer patriarch or patriarch-designate.
It was a bald genestealers, about six meters tall, with a completely exposed triangular head, not covered by chitinous armor.
Its entire body was covered in extremely thick chitinous armor, these chitinous plates interwoven and entwined, truly resembling a suit of power armor.
And the gaps between these chitinous plates seemed to slowly twist into a series of complex runes, gradually forming a broken Eye of Terra design on its chest.
Its grotesque xenos face twisted as it looked towards the light-and-shadow-shifting throne.
The invisible giant beast on the throne let out a roar, suddenly rising and pouncing on it.
Its expression unmoved, it suddenly raised its sharp chitin-covered claws—
Bang!! Bang!!! Bang!!!
The roar of the melta pistol was faster than its claws.
The head of the invisible giant beast exploded in a roar of melta fire.
Precise, swift, and casual, as if completely unhesitant about where its bullets would land.
Loken was astonished; he had never seen such exquisite marksmanship.
It was as if he wasn't shooting at an enemy, but rather the enemy was fated to pass through his bullet's trajectory.
Loken even noticed a subtle flicker of surprise in the Warmaster's eyes; this marksmanship seemed to have touched him too.
"I swear to eliminate all tyrants and deceivers."
The Warmaster looked at the Astartes warrior with the unknown livery:
"But someone has beaten me to it this time."
"It's alright, Warmaster, I believe one day you will personally cripple the galaxy's biggest tyrant and deceiver."
Alexander put down the melta pistol in his hand, looking cheerfully at the enormous genestealers before him as he spoke.
Whether it was an illusion or not, after the invisible genestealers on the throne died, its body seemed to have grown a bit larger.
Was it a competition among genestealer patriarch candidates?
As the number of candidates decreased, the remaining individuals would also become stronger under stimulation.
Alexander had noticed the invisible genestealers lying on the throne early on; that was clearly the true 'Emperor,' the genestealer patriarch candidate of these invisible genestealers.
It had just remained invisible and inactive on the throne, so Alexander and Mephiston hadn't bothered with it.
Upon hearing Alexander's words, the genestealer patriarch-designate, covered in power-armor-like chitinous plating, let out a hearty laugh, its gaze falling on Alexander.
"A very good compliment; your mouth is as dangerous as your gun. Which of my brothers' offspring has such a sharp tongue? Guilliman's?"
Saying this, the patriarch-designate's gaze fixed on Alexander, its eyes becoming serious:
"Warrior, I am the Lord of the Luna Wolves, the Warmaster appointed by the Emperor, the Emperor, beloved by all, and a Primarch who bears the greatness of the Great Crusade."
"I am Horus, the Emperor's firstborn son."
As he spoke, the patriarch-designate, who claimed to be Horus, fixed a sharp gaze on Alexander, as if scrutinizing him:
"Now, declare your identity and the reason for your involvement in this war!"
Mephiston subtly stepped back, his expression somewhat volatile.
This was because Mephiston truly felt Horus' aura emanating from this genestealer.
Although it was fake, a false Horus formed by the emotions and beliefs of all beings in the Warp, it gave Mephiston a genuine feeling.
Mephiston could even feel that the Black Rage, which he had overcome and suppressed deep within his soul, had inexplicably become active again, as if... as if the body of this monster before him harbored...
Mephiston vaguely saw a pair of dark wings behind this genestealer, as if the Black Archangel of Baal's ancient legends was gazing at him.
He hastily sent the vision he saw into Alexander's mind via Psyker power.
Alexander, however, merely adjusted the brim of his hat, a slight smile playing on his lips, and reached into his four-dimensional pocket.
Loken almost thought he was going to pull out a weapon, but the Warmaster remained unmoving, gazing at Alexander.
Then, Loken held his breath.
A light even brighter than that on the Warmaster instantly illuminated the entire room.
The Warmaster also suddenly took a step back, staring at the object Alexander held up in his hand.
It was a feather, about the length of Loken's arm, pure white as snow, with a faint blue tint at the tip, enveloped in a warm, sun-like glow.
The moment this feather was produced, a clear, sacred bell seemed to toll, and Loken's vision instantly cleared; many mists and illusions vanished.
In the light emanating from the feather, Loken vaguely saw the Warmaster transform into some kind of six-meter-tall monster, but it was only for an instant.
Because the Astartes warrior with the unknown livery gently lowered the feather, stopping the light from shining on the Warmaster and Loken.
"So, Sanguinius sent you." The Warmaster's voice softened slightly.
The Astartes with the unknown livery nodded slightly and said softly: "I am Sanguinius' close guard, a member of the Saint Blood Guard. You may call me Doki Dante!"
Instantly, Loken's eyes seemed to suddenly clear; the power armor on the Astartes who called himself Doki Dante transformed into golden armor inlaid with bloodstones, bearing the emblem of the Saint Blood Guard on its shoulder pads.
Loken felt a surge of guilt for a moment, that he had only now recognized this as a member of the Saint Blood Guard.
"So, it's the Saint Blood Guard."
Horus' lips curved into a slight smile. The Saint Blood Guard were Sanguinius' personal guard, but sometimes they were dispatched as personal bodyguards for other commanders, to show the Archangel's closeness and favor.
Horus clearly believed this was his brother expressing friendship to him. He had just assumed the role of Warmaster and had a good relationship with Sanguinius, so this was perfectly normal.
"Then, in the name of the Warmaster, I consent to you joining the 63rd Expedition Fleet and becoming my close guard, to come aboard the Vengeful Spirit with me."