In the meeting held in the Blood Council Hall, Dante officially issued the war order.
The Blood Angels Chapter would launch the Dark Side Crusade, sweeping away the enemies of the Imperium until the Dark Side region returned to peace.
Of course, to sustain such a large-scale war, logistics were key.
As the saying goes, 'Troops move, provisions first'.
Launching a large-scale campaign without sufficient war materials would undoubtedly accelerate the collapse of the Imperium's Dark Side situation.
After the Great Rift opened, Warp Storms raged.
Many Forge Worlds and agricultural worlds lost contact with Baal.
They couldn't provide weapons, ammunition, food, and other supplies for Baal's Dark Side Crusade.
At this stage, only the Calixis Sector, which had undergone reforms and experienced a surge in productivity, could meet the logistical needs of the Dark Side Crusade.
To solve the logistics issue, Dante personally conversed with the Sector Governor, Feng.
The two sides negotiated for over three hours and reached an agreement.
Feng promised to provide ample logistical supplies for this Dark Side Crusade.
Feng also made Dante guarantee that he would assist officials dispatched by the Calixis Sector government in promoting reforms on the worlds that were recaptured.
After the meeting, Dante went to the Librarium Sanctum located beneath Angel Keep.
Jailers in dark cloaks stood at the shadowy entrance.
The flickering firelight from the braziers on the walls stretched their shadows.
Standing in the darkness, they saluted the Chapter Master.
After returning the salute, Dante stepped inside.
The underground tunnel leading to the Librarium Sanctum was like a labyrinth, winding and twisting, with no end in sight.
The corridor walls were made of obsidian, cooled from lava, extremely smooth, faintly reflecting the firelight from the wall braziers.
Dante arrived before a massive door.
On either side of the door, several Blood Slaves, clad in blood-red armor and holding power lances, stood guard.
Their eyes emitted psychic glows in the dim environment.
As servants of the Librarium Sanctum, these Blood Slaves also possessed psychic abilities.
"Lord of Blood."
"Lord of Blood."
After verifying Dante's bio-signature, the two Blood Slaves saluted him, then opened the door and allowed him to enter.
Upon entering, one saw colossal pillars, intricately carved with angels and demons, standing majestically, supporting the vaulted ceiling of this underground space.
Rows of mechanical devices were neatly arranged along the cave walls, with thick pipelines crisscrossing between the machines, providing them with energy.
In the center, a magnificent angel sculpture stood tall.
The angel sculpture's right hand rested lightly on the rounded pommel of a stone greatsword.
Its left hand extended forward, and a burning, incandescent orb of flame floated in its broad palm.
If a player were here, they would surely exclaim.
Because that scorching orb was not some plasma reactor, but a true star.
During the Great Crusade, the Emperor, using his immense power, had bound this star with pure force, compressing it into a burning fireball.
But its mass had not changed.
Once unbound, it would ascend to the sky and transform into a true star.
This object was also the Blood Angels' strongest killer.
Dante had considered that if the world of Baal could not withstand the Tyranids / Tyranid, leading to a complete fall, he would unleash this killer.
At that time, both the people of Baal and the Tyranids / Tyranid would be completely reduced to ashes by the star's high temperature.
Dante could not imagine what kind of power was needed to bind a star and make it an object in one's palm.
Yet the Emperor did it, and even gave this star as a gift to his beloved son, Sanguinius.
Inside the Sanctum were several Blood Angels and members of the Adeptus Mechanicus clad in scarlet robes.
Hearing footsteps, Rascellus, the Librarian, turned his head.
Upon seeing Dante, a hint of surprise appeared on his face.
"Chapter Master."
Dante nodded and asked, "How is Mefiston doing?"
"He has crossed the Primaris threshold, but his vital signs continue to decline."
Rascellus moved aside, clearing a path for Dante.
Dante walked over and saw a massive iron sarcophagus, with the Chief Librarian lying inside, immersed in nutrient fluid.
Numerous data cables connected to various parts of his body.
On the data screen next to the sarcophagus, a flat data curve was displayed.
The Chief Librarian's life force was slowly extinguishing, and many Blood Angels and Adeptus Mechanicus were powerless.
This was because the individual's mental will had to cross the Primaris threshold for the transformation to be considered complete; otherwise, it was a failure.
The risk for existing Astartes to ascend to Primaris was far higher than for mortals to become Primaris Space Marines through twenty-one surgical procedures.
But Mefiston had no choice; to suppress his continuously growing psychic power, he could only choose Primaris transformation.
Mefiston's original name was Calistarius, the Reclusiarch of the Blood Angels' First Company.
During the Second Armageddon War, he went to Hades Hive City to rescue trapped individuals and became a victim of the Black Rage.
After being assigned to the Death Company, he was ordered to participate in an assault on an Imperial Ecclesiarchy building.
After the building collapsed, he was trapped underground for seven days.
Trapped, Calistarius was tormented by the Blood Thirst and Black Rage.
He roared incessantly day and night, eventually relying on pure willpower to forcibly suppress the Blood Thirst and Black Rage.
On the seventh night, he gained the power to escape, reborn as Mefiston, 'Lord of Death'.
As soon as he escaped, he easily slaughtered hundreds of Ork Boyz, causing the Orks to flee in terror.
After Mefiston returned to the Warband, his psychic powers grew stronger day by day, eventually promoting him to Chief Librarian.
However, gaining this power was not without cost.
As Mefiston grew stronger, a black angel appeared behind him.
At the same time, an incredibly pure darkness gradually devoured his soul and flesh.
Considering that he might become corrupted, Mefiston, at Rascellus's persuasion, underwent the Primaris upgrade.
Seeing Mefiston's current state, Dante sighed.
"I hope he can pull through. The army will soon gather and head to the Rongtian Star System."
"The probability of him participating in this war is very slim," Rascellus said.
"Hmph!"
Dante sighed softly and then turned to leave.
Rascellus watched Dante leave, then turned around to look at Mefiston lying in the iron sarcophagus.
After a moment of hesitation, he closed his eyes and released his soul; he wanted to try if he could call out to the lost Mefiston.
The Primaris transformation technology, optimized by the Saint and Cortana, had minimized the mortality rate to the greatest extent.
However, there were still risks during the transformation.
The unconscious Mefiston's soul plunged into complex illusions.
He first returned to Baal Secundus, his hometown.
"Baal Secundus?"
Mefiston looked around and saw a vast, boundless desert plain, with sand dunes rising at the horizon.
When he was young, he had visited those sand dunes.
He knew that under those undulating sand dunes lay the colossal architectural ruins of humanity's Golden Age, remnants of humanity's great wisdom.
Mefiston withdrew his gaze and examined his body.
He was still an Astartes, but he wasn't wearing power armor.
Instead, he was clad in a linen garment.
"Child."
A call sounded, and a gaunt woman walked slowly from afar.
She wore faded clothes, her face etched with the wrinkles of time.
When the woman saw Mefiston, she cried out,
"You've grown up, child."
Mefiston stared at her.
Dust-covered memories surged from the depths of his mind.
This was his mother.
She had personally sent him on the journey of the Angel's trial.
More memories flooded in.
Growth, laughter, tears—those memories were his past as Calistarius.
"Stay here, child, you've done enough."
The woman reached out and took Mefiston's hand.
Her hands were small and rough, yet they offered a warm, comforting sensation.
"You are just a memory."
Mefiston's tone was calm, without the slightest hint of emotion.
"Child," the woman called out softly, "I'm your mother, aren't I? You said that when you became an Angel, you would come back to protect your mother."
Mefiston slowly closed his eyes, and the woman's calls grew more frantic, eventually turning into malicious curses.
However, no matter what the other party said or did, Mefiston ignored it.
Everything here was fake, merely a memory of the Warp.
Mefiston began to silently recite ancient vows, as he had during past trials, to strengthen his faith. He used meditation to construct an image of the Emperor in his mind, the most powerful means of resisting Warp corruption.
The woman's curses disappeared.
Then, others appeared: the mad Heretics and twisted Xenos he had once killed.
They shrieked, demanding vengeance, but Mefiston kept his eyes closed, resisting them with mental power.
The Librarium's training was extremely arduous and strict.
Only through such training could they forge their resilient spirits to confront the madness of the Warp.
Mefiston wanted to forcibly break through the illusion on his own, but after the Warp memory-induced illusion disappeared, he was still trapped there.
"Rest a bit, Calistarius," a hoarse voice rang in Mefiston's ear, "You'll have to stay here for a while. You can only leave once things are resolved."
Mefiston ignored the voice and continued to try to escape.
"Ugh! I'm serious, Calistarius, open your eyes."
The voice sounded again.
"The more you do this, the more time you waste."
After Mefiston's attempt failed again,
realizing he truly couldn't leave this place, he slowly opened his eyes and saw the speaker.
A man stood on a distant slope, watching him.
His body was as short and thin as an ordinary inhabitant of Baal Secundus, with his pelvis severely skewed to the left side.
His nose was red and scarred, and his ears were uneven, lacking symmetrical beauty.
A few sparse, withered hairs grew on his Scalp, and his small eyes gleamed like flint shards, dangerous and sharp.
In front of the robust and graceful Mefiston, the man appeared frail.
"Ancient God, you've finally opened your eyes." The man waved a twisted wooden staff, grinning to reveal a mouthful of rotting teeth, "Do you remember me?"
Mefiston frowned; he couldn't recall the man's appearance.
Since his ascension to Astartes, he had lost most of his memories.
"I am Mefiston—"
Before he could finish, the other party lowered his voice and mocked, "I am the Lord of Death."
"When you were a mortal, you were a proud and arrogant little brat. Gaining power only made your flaws worse."
"You are not real; you are just a memory of the Warp." Mefiston emphasized.
The man laughed harder. He walked down the slope and scratched his face with a hand covered in black mud.
"I feel real. The sensation is quite authentic."
"Who exactly are you?" Mefiston asked.
"It's truly heartbreaking. You once swore you'd remember my name for life." The man made an exaggerated expression of sadness.
"Did I make such a promise?" Mefiston shook his head, "I lost my memories from before becoming an Astartes, retaining only relationships with some important individuals."
"But I still can't find any memory of you, which means you were merely an insignificant passerby in my past self's heart."
The man froze, black lines appearing on his forehead.
"I really can't understand how someone with your personality has survived until now."
"I shouldn't have stopped your father from killing you back then!!"
Mefiston looked at the other party, "You know my father. It seems you must have died a long time ago."
"Ugh, death here doesn't count for much!!" The man tapped his staff on the ground, "As long as you can evade the predators or the consumption of those rotting gods, this End Land is actually a pretty good place."
"Forget it, let's not talk so much. Come on, I'll take you to where you're supposed to go."
The man turned and walked a few steps, then looked back, gesturing for the Lord of Death to follow.
Mefiston hesitated for a moment, then followed.
A short while later, the two arrived before a pitch-black cave entrance.
"Where is this?" Mefiston asked.
"The place where you make your choice." The man replied.
"What choice?" Mefiston looked puzzled.
"Your destiny, and the destiny of your Warband."
The man told Mefiston to stand in front of the cave.
Mefiston stood there without any suspicion.
Immediately after, the other party kicked him into the cave.
"How dare you!" Mefiston roared in anger as he fell.
Finally, he landed in an underground space filled with countless blood-red crystals.
The towering blood-red crystals were smooth as mirrors, reflecting hundreds of Mefiston's figures.
They varied in size and form, displaying the Lord of Death's life in a kaleidoscopic fashion.
From childhood to adolescence, everything was there.
Mefiston glanced around, then averted his gaze and strode deeper into the underground space.
He encountered no dangers along the way and smoothly arrived before a magnificent throne.
Here, he saw the Black Angel and Golden Angel of Baal's legends. They stood on either side of the throne, like loyal guards.
Legend had it that the tales of the Golden Angel and Black Angel existed even before humanity arrived on this planet.
The Golden Angel represented goodness, purity, and innocence.
The Black Angel represented flaws, Blood Thirst, and Black Rage.
Seated on the throne was an Angel with a handsome face, clad in golden armor, and possessing pure white wings.
"Saint? How are you here?"
At first glance, Mefiston almost thought it was the Saint.
After careful identification, he realized it wasn't.
The Saint's hair was black, while the one before him had flowing golden hair.
After confirming that the other party was indeed Sanguinius, Mefiston's eyes widened, unable to believe what he was seeing.
He even stammered when he spoke.
"S-Sanguinius!! My father, how can you be here?"