Titus couldn't recall why he was standing on this vast, sandy land.
Rolling yellow sand blew from the far horizon, striking Titus' face, making it ache.
In this land of only scorching yellow sand, many facts had become blurred.
Perhaps he was here for a mission, or perhaps he had landed here due to an accident, or perhaps he had fallen victim to a plot by some enemies of the Emperor.
Or perhaps...
"I'll be watching you, traitor."
"You've been abandoned by the Chapter, traitor."
"You're corrupted, traitor."
Voices echoed in Titus' ears, and amidst the rolling heat, Titus vaguely saw several figures standing beside him.
He saw Leandros, the recruit who had reported him to the Inquisition; he was now a Priest, gazing at Titus with suspicious eyes.
He saw Inquisitor Thrax, holding cruel instruments of torture, staring at Titus with a sneer.
He saw Chapter Master Calgar, who looked at him indifferently, seemingly despising him, ignoring him, and abandoning him.
Anger?
A voice ignited in Titus' heart, burning like a wildfire deep within him.
They repay your loyalty with suspicion; they respond to your devotion with abandonment.
Warrior, you should be angry, you should kill.
Say: Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the—
"I am DeMetrian Titus, former Second Company Captain of the Ultramarines, son of Roboute Guilliman, Ultramarines Captain of the Doraemon Battle Group, loyal to the Emperor, loyal to humanity, loyal to the Primarch."
Titus suddenly recalled Saint Doraemon's past teachings; he had once mentioned this very situation, telling Titus how to deal with it.
"I am DeMetrian Titus!" Titus emphasized this fact.
He heard an angry roar, filled with vexation, annoyance, and restless stirrings.
The desert grew hotter, the sand coarser, the hot wind fiercer.
Everything was grinding away at Titus; those once solid facts began to peel away from him, little by little.
He only wanted anger; if he did not accept His blessing, He would ultimately leave him with only anger.
Everything else would vanish in the sandstorm.
"I am DeMetrian Titus!" Titus emphasized this fact, then stepped into the desert. He didn't know how to escape, but there would eventually be a way, as long as he started moving.
The monotonous desert stretched endlessly beneath his feet, growing increasingly scorching. As far as Titus could see, he saw nothing... No,
He could see Leandros, Inquisitor Thrax, and Chapter Master Calgar; they constantly watched Titus, staring at him.
"We will be watching you, traitor," their voices echoed in Titus' ears.
Titus ignored them; he still had to move forward.
So, step by step, step by step, day by day, year by year, he advanced, he searched for a way out.
The blood-red sun always hung low in the sky, the yellow sand always blew, time became blurred, and the years stretched long.
These sand grains constantly beat against him, slowly eroding his existence.
His Power Armor began to fade, its markings worn away, no longer clear.
The medals representing his past honors began to break, finally turning into dust and vanishing from his fingertips on a certain day of a certain century.
The three of them still watched him, but he could no longer clearly remember their names.
"We will always be watching you, traitor," cold voices echoed from their mouths, carrying suspicion, distrust, and disgust.
Their gazes, their voices, and the dizzying heat of the surroundings intertwined, urging the anger deep within him to burn.
Kill them, unleash your anger.
Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne.
That voice arose, urging him, tempting him, guiding him...
"No," he said hoarsely, "I am..."
"I am DeMetrian Titus." He emphasized this fact; he could not forget this fact.
So time continued to flow, slowly, imperceptibly.
The sun remained still, the scene before him endlessly repeated and extended; only the constantly eroding Power Armor proved the existence of time.
Later in a certain century, when the desert was bathed in blood-red by the sun, at a moment when he had almost forgotten everything, when his existence was almost erased by the yellow sand,
His Power Armor, already ground down to a pitted wreck, shattered. He stumbled out of the wreckage of the Power Armor, yellow sand sprinkling onto his strong body, painful, so painful, so painful.
The three of them were still there, but their Power Armor had also been erased by the yellow sand, their flesh dried by the heat, leaving only three withered heads lying in the sand, staring at him.
"We will always be watching you, traitor," cold voices echoed from their mouths.
He vaguely remembered that he had something very important to do; for the Emperor, for humanity, he should have been fighting.
But why was he lingering here? Century after century.
Why was he still here? Century after century.
Why? Why was he trapped here?
Kill them. His voice arose: Swing your Chainsword, cut them down, do not let them hinder your path to the battlefield.
Then, Blood for... Blood for...
He gently raised the Chainsword in his hand and looked at the three withered heads.
"Who are you?" A sinister voice filled with bloodlust echoed from the Chainsword in his hand, whose name he had forgotten. Reflected on it was a figure in silver-red Power Armor: "Whose is your anger?"
"..I am, I am DeMetrian Titus."
"My anger belongs to the Emperor, to humanity, to Saint Doraemon."
"I am Titus!!!" An angry voice erupted from his mouth.
That He let out an enraged growl, His fury burning. The Chainsword in his hand turned to ash, and the figure in silver-red Power Armor vanished.
But before disappearing, the silver-red warrior laughed wildly, mocking Him, and roared a battle cry at Him in anger,
"I am Yor, I am a Blood Knight, my anger belongs to Sanguinius and the Emperor," the silver-red warrior roared, then vanished in an instant.
The silver-red warrior's roar suddenly jolted his spirit; in a trance, he saw a low wall.
This was the first time in centuries that he had seen a change in the desert landscape.
He was naked, bewildered, everything he was had been polished clean by the yellow sand, leaving only the anger deep within him, the three heads that constantly stared at him, and...
"I am Titus," he repeated.
Then, he stood before that wall, a wall built of red sandstone, covered with carvings.
Blueprints, designs, plans, one meticulously designed escape plan after another, attempt after attempt, marks made by a blunt Chainsword...
Clearly, someone else had once been trapped in this desert like him, enduring His corruption and torment.
That person was unyielding, that person was rebellious, that person tried to escape again and again, leaving everything on this wall.
He could no longer understand these designs, these plans, these blueprints.
Even if he understood, it wouldn't matter much, because these attempts had been rejected one by one by the person who carved these texts.
He ultimately only understood the two short sentences carved at the very top of the wall...
"Iron rots, stone remains."
"Adamantium rusts, courage endures."
He murmured softly, then...
"I am Titus."
The Blood God let out an enraged growl.