I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 688 Ezekiel: Azrael, your mother is dead.

The Stone Fortress

Zabril stepped onto the ground paved with black stone, walked through the deep and wide corridor, looked at the towering stone statues supporting the ceiling hidden in the cold mist, and felt the cold wind blowing across his weathered cheeks.
It was almost as if the remnant soul of Caliban was stroking Zabril's scarred cheek with her fingers.
Some of these scars came from enemies of humankind, some from wild beasts in the forest, but most came from his brothers who shared the same genetic sequence.

A mocking sneer curled across Zabril's lips, a sneer of defiance directed at himself, at his self-proclaimed loyal brothers, and at this damned fate.

He had no affection for Kaliban before. Zabril was a Terran, an uncrowned prince, one of the first Astartes. When he arrived in Kaliban, the mountains and forests had already been leveled, leaving only cold rocks and numerous newly built armories.
In Zabril's view, Caliban had always been an ordinary planet, not as magnificent as the Macragge civilization, not as grand as Fenris, not as beautiful as Chogoris, and certainly not as important as Terra.

But at this moment, stepping onto this fragment of Caliban, Zabril had thoughts he had never had before.
“I’m home,” Zabril said softly, without anger or pain, only a sense of relief and emptiness.

A barely perceptible tremor emanated from Zabril, spreading to the Astartes around him. These Astartes, once condemned as fallen angels and hunted by dark angels for millennia, showed slight tremors.
Even though they were Astartes with unwavering resolve, and even though millennia of weathering had forged them into rock, their minds still began to waver.
Especially those warriors who were born and raised in Caliban,

This place was once home, my hometown.

But later it became their burial ground, their prison, their purgatory, the headquarters of those who hunted them, and the courthouse where they were sentenced.

The years had been long and unbearable, but now that the shackles have been broken, they can finally call this place home again.
An aged-looking angel of forgiveness knelt on the ground of the megalithic fortress.
He seemed unable to bear the fact that the power armor separated him from Caliban, with his helmetless face pressed against the ground.
Feeling the slight chill from the ground, the eyes of this Archangel of Forgiveness seemed to reflect a younger version of himself, before he was an Astartes, but merely a knight's squire.

He and his companions wrestled wildly in the clear, icy stream. He stepped on the huge pebbles polished by the stream over millennia, and couldn't help but dart about because of the cold water and pebbles.
Now, with my cheek pressed against the ground, I feel the chill coming from my memory, as if the chill of the Kaliban Creek were coming from my own memories.

"Caliban, my homeland."

"Today, I have finally, finally returned to your side."

He shed tears, the first time since Caliban's fall.
A shadow suddenly covered him.
The other Astartes around them held their breath, afraid to speak or weep.

The aged angel of forgiveness also hurriedly rose and bowed slightly to the lion before him.

Ryan El-Johnson remained silent, merely nodding slightly to the aged angel of forgiveness before turning and continuing to walk at the front of the procession.

Zabrel couldn't help but sigh softly to himself, a bitter and complex emotion spreading through his heart.
Zabril understood that Lion would never punish the current Dark Angels; in fact, Zabril and most of the Forgiving Angels did not want the current Dark Angels to be punished.

Although the Angels of Forgiveness had suffered a brutal hunt, they were ultimately brothers, all loyal at heart; it was only the cruel twist of fate that led them to kill each other.

For the sake of the empire, for the sake of humanity, they should not continue that cruel fate.
They often vehemently denounced Azrael and Asmodian.
But they understood that the one who should truly bear the burden of these sins was the mastermind behind Caliban's downfall, not Azrael, the current leader of the Dark Angels.

It's just that after ten thousand years of fleeing and ten thousand years of humiliation, there was no result. It's hard not to feel a bit complicated in my heart.

Zabril saw the members of the Dark Angels Chapter.

The Lion made no secret of his purpose in returning to the warband. Not only the Dark Angels chapter, but almost all of the Dark Angels' sub-chapters also sent representatives or even their entire chapters, eager to pay homage to the Father of Genetics and to fight alongside him.
The Unforgivables gathered here, and as the lion strode out from the dark corridor, the Grand Master among the Unforgivables first knelt on one knee before his Genetic Father, followed by many more Astartes, both mother and offspring.
With tears in their eyes, each Astartes knew that their Gene Father had long since returned, but had never returned to them. They even began to doubt whether they had been abandoned by their Gene Father.
Now, the father of genetics has finally returned to them.

A tremor emanating from the depths of their genes overwhelmed them, causing their souls to submit to the lion.

But there was one flaw: these unforgivables clearly noticed the angels of forgiveness behind the Primarch.
Surprise, disgust, doubt, shock—all sorts of expressions were on the faces of the Unforgivables. They looked at the Angel of Forgiveness as if they were looking at a group of enemies, not their own brothers.

"The Fallen." A soft voice rang out, a voice that the Astartes' supernatural senses could detect.

Asmodie of the Dark Angel Mother Order stared intently at the Angels of Forgiveness with a gloomy gaze.

But Ryan ignored Asmody and didn't care about any of that.
In reality, the angels of forgiveness didn't pay much attention to Asmodie; their attention was drawn to one person's absence.

Azrael, the High Master Azrael, Chapter Master of the Dark Angels, and the current leader of the entire Dark Angels, is absent.
Only Ezekiel, the chief think tank member, attended in his place.
Zabril's eyelids twitched slightly; he sensed that beneath Ryan's seemingly calm face, anger was building.

"Azrael, where are you?" The lion's voice was as calm as the deep jungle of Caliban.
His voice echoed through the deep corridor, as if Caliban himself were questioning him.

Sweat beaded on Ezekiel's forehead. He stood up and took a small step forward.
"Not long ago, Lord Azrael, feeling he had failed in his responsibility to lead the Chapter and its sub-churches, has voluntarily resigned from his position as High Master of the Dark Angels, joined the Deathwatch, severed all ties with the Chapter, concealed the Chapter's insignia, and exiled himself to become a Black Shield."

?

A question mark appeared above Zabril's head.
Black Shields are a special type of Astartes within Deathwatch. They abandon their former identities, sever ties with the Chapter, blacken their insignia, join Deathwatch, live in anonymity, without honor or remembrance, and dedicate their lives to Deathwatch.

These Astars will be shunned by their brothers, distanced from their chapters, no longer blessed by the Primarch, and even considered no longer watched by the God-Emperor. Often, only those who believe they have committed heinous crimes and yearn to atone through service in the Deathwatch will choose to become Black Shields.

The warbands often respect their choices, ignore their existence, and allow them to atone in this way.

But Azrael is the High Master; what kind of crime could lead him to choose such an extreme way to atone?

And
Zabril turned his head slightly to look at Ryan El-Jonson. The lion clenched his fists, and the veins on his forehead bulged slightly. His anger was self-evident.

Azrael, what have you done?! What could possibly enrage a lion like this? Did you blow up Caliban?

Ezekiel was also covered in sweat at this moment.

He wished he could use his psychic powers to travel back three months and slap his past self, who was making prophecies, across the face.
Ezekiel then prophesied that the lion would soon return to its legion.
Azrael was overjoyed to hear this news. Rumors had been circulating within the Chapter that Llane had pardoned the Fallen Angels, choosing to remain with them rather than return to the Chapter; Llane had abandoned them.

Now that Llane is returning, it means the Lions have not abandoned them. Then Ezekiel ruins Azrael's good mood with a single sentence.

“He knew.” Ezekiel’s voice trembled as he said those words.
This concerns a secret known only to Ezekiel and Azrael, the truth behind Caliban's fall.
The secret is this: in a sense—well, in every sense—the Caliban were all blown up by Azrael.

At that time, the fallen angel, together with Typhon and Cipher, gathered the three ancient artifacts and forcibly tore open a spacetime rift leading to Caliban ten thousand years ago, attempting to change the past.
To stop them, Azrael ordered the entire Unforgiven's firepower to bombard the spacetime rift.
They succeeded. But in the final moments before the spacetime rift crumbled and disintegrated, both Azrael and Ezekiel clearly saw it.
The shattering spacetime rift, carrying the firepower ordered by Azrael, slammed into Kaliban, smashing him to pieces with a crack.
This matter was known only to Ezekiel and Azrael; it was a secret among secrets.
However, Ezekiel saw it in the prophecy,

Ryan already knew this secret, knew that Caliban's destruction was inextricably linked to the Dark Angels Chapter of this era.
In that prophecy, Ezekiel saw Azrael stammering as he told Llane the truth.
Then, Azrael's head flew into the air amidst Llane's rage.

At that time, Azrael told Ezekiel that he would figure out how to face the Primarch.
The next day, when Ezekiel went to find Azrael, he discovered that Azrael was gone.
This bastard, raised by a fallen angel, left a letter telling Ezekiel that he could not forgive himself for the mistakes he had made, and that he had gone to serve in the Deathwatch Black Shield, handing the chapter over to Ezekiel.

Ezekiel hung his head, feeling a tingling sensation on his scalp, as if he were about to take off.

His face was full of bitterness, and he forced himself to lift his head, suppressing his fear.

The lion's bearded, aged yet still majestic face loomed before him, only centimeters away, its beast-like eyes fixed somberly on Ezekiel.
Before Ezekiel even realized it, the lion had already arrived before him, lowered its head, and was staring at him, observing him.
“You know,” the lion said, his voice calm and serene, like the dense forest of Caliban that Ezekiel had never seen before.

The lion's eyes can see the truth.

Ezekiel had heard of this legend before, and he had assumed it was some kind of spiritual power.
But now he understood that the lion's eyes could see the truth, and he could see into Ezekiel's heart without the aid of psychic powers.

Ezekiel recalled his childhood, when he was only ten years old, his psychic powers beginning to awaken, but he couldn't control them. The immense psychic energy overwhelmed his body, leaving him incredibly weak.

Facing Ryan, he was as weak and powerless as he had been years before, so powerless that he couldn't even muster the courage to open his mouth and tell the lion the truth. His silence enraged the lion.

Ezekiel felt the world spin, his power armor was torn apart, and his cloak was ripped to shreds. His prized psychic power and precognitive abilities were powerless against such a swift attack.
He was sent flying backward, crashing heavily into a statue far from the Unforgiven and the Angels of Forgiveness. Blood spilled from his mouth, and his body seemed to be gripped by some inexplicable force, unable to move.
Then, in the blink of an eye, Ryan was in front of him. The lion stretched out its arms and grabbed his neck tightly, pulling him up from the ground and dragging him into the air, bringing its face close to his.

“Tell me,” the lion said.

Ezekiel had no way to refuse, and he stammered out everything, lowering his voice to make sure that no one but the lion could hear the secret.
An angry growl rang out.

Ezekiel saw the most terrifying thing he had ever seen: the angry face of a lion.

The lion's whiskers softened the sharpness of his face, making him less terrifying than he had been in his youth.
Ezekiel now considers this claim to be pure nonsense.
When the lion is enraged, his terror is a thousand times greater than when he was young; just looking at his face, Ezekiel felt his soul being torn apart.
The lion's fist came hurtling through the air.

Ezekiel had never been so grateful for the extraordinary gifts the warp had bestowed upon him; his precognitive abilities finally allowed him to weave a psionic shield at the last moment.

He frantically squeezed out his psionic energy, layer upon layer of psionic shields stacked before his head.
Then, the psionic shields shattered layer by layer.

Ezekiel's full spiritual power only slowed the lion's fist by an almost imperceptible instant.

Ezekiel had already foreseen his own death.
But the lion's fist stopped just a short distance from Ezekiel.

The lion's anger was like a sudden storm, erupting in an instant and then subsiding just as quickly.
He laid down Ezekiel.

"Assemble my legions and use your psionic power to convey my voice to each of my offspring."

The lion proclaimed thus:
"Let them burn the Book of Astartes, abandon the chapter, and remember their true identity."

"They are the Dark Angels of the First Legion, the eldest sons of the Legions. The Empire and humanity need them once again."

In a fortress of Deathwatch, Azrael, having just finished a mission, was resting against the wall.

He lowered his head, silently calculating the time.

Judging by the time, the lion has already arrived at the Stone Fortress. I hope Ezekiel is well.
Just as Azrael was pondering, a beam of psionic energy suddenly pierced into his head.
That powerful psionic energy actually traversed nearly half of the galaxy, reaching directly into Azrael's will.

Azrael heard the voice of Ezekiel.
"Azrael, your mother is dead."

(End of this chapter)