This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 186 They are heroes

Inside the subspace, the Emperor-class battleship Dawn, time period unknown.
The aliens and heretics of Esteria have been completely wiped out, leaving not a single trace.

Because the Soul of the World still exists, the planet's climate recovery is not even a concern for humans. With the passage of time, the planet will be able to transform back into the pearl of eastern Alteramar.

The warp remained unchanged, filled with chaos. Screams echoed through the invisible world with the tides, and occasionally, enormous, grotesque void creatures could be seen.

Amidst the chaos, the Dawn Fleet remained calm, as if even the demons knew this place was off-limits. Only the faint hum of the servo skulls could be heard in the corridors. The children were already asleep in their respective cabins. The entire fleet was enveloped in a rare pre-war peace, proceeding as usual.

Inside the warship's ceremonial sanctuary, a sacred ceremony was underway.

The Blood Angels, holding lit incense burners, released the fragrance that wafted between their power armors. They stood in perfect wing-like formations, surrounding the Lamenters Chapter.

The stone path outside the temple was paved with coffins containing mutilated corpses, each coffin covered with a flag embroidered with the insignia of the warband.

The most common emblem is that of a weeping person.

"Lord Yuan, it's me."

Facing the envious gazes of their blood relatives, the radiance emanating from the seraph, and the flags and armaments symbolizing honor.

Malakin Forros, the leader of the Weeping Warriors, seemed rather flustered at this moment.

In one battle, a third of the Space Marines were lost, but in return, only one-tenth of the human population of a planet was saved. If it weren't for the timely arrival of the Dawn Fleet, they would have been able to save even fewer of their compatriots.

He genuinely believed that this war was a devastating defeat for the mourners.

This thought gnawed at his heart like a sharp knife, making his voice grow even lower:

"We are not worth it."

The man tearing the flesh's eyes suddenly seemed to spit fire, and his respirator emitted a series of rapid static noises.

No, Lord Karna values ​​you so much, yet you still say you're not worthy.

So who are we?
Karna sighed. Perhaps because of their long-standing bad luck and unconventional style, which led to discrimination, the Weepers felt a strange sense of inferiority when interacting with their fellow warriors.

Moreover, they genuinely believed that it was a disgrace not to have saved more lives through the sacrifice of their comrades in battle.

But in the eyes of the vast majority of Astartes, such behavior was seen as unforgivable arrogance—

They dared to refuse the glory bestowed by the angels.

When you embark on an unprecedentedly noble path, you inevitably have to endure loneliness.

The angel did not rebuke, but instead reached out and stroked the coffin beside him. The carvings and commemorative inscriptions on it were all carved by him personally. The fingertips of his precision-engineered power armor made a soft rustling sound as they traced the indentations.

"Is it worth it?"

His voice was soft, yet it made the air in the entire sanctuary freeze.

"worth."

Frost answered without hesitation.

"Sacrifice is for the sake of saving lives."

He was just annoyed that he hadn't done a better job of repaying his brothers-in-arms for their sacrifice.

"Then you deserve it."
-
On the high platform of the house, Arthur held onto the railing like a sculpture.

"Lord Arthur."

Aglaia dragged her weary body as she walked in. Although her eyes still showed the dullness that came from long hours of intense work, the excitement within them was impossible to hide.

"congratulations."

Arthur briefly looked away from the coffin and placed his gaze on the judge.

His gaze was as calm as a winter mist, yet it carried a hint of subconscious, barely perceptible scrutiny.

The edges of her long sleeves still bore traces of ink stains, and the embroidery was slightly wrinkled from repeated rubbing, clearly indicating that it hadn't stopped recently.

The judge has been busy settling the psionics she adopted.

Judging from her slightly bright eyes and light steps, the result should be good.

Better than ever.

"What's the matter?"

He turned his head slightly, and the cold light from outside the platform slanted across his cold and handsome features, casting a sharp shadow.

Aglaia took a deep breath, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the worn embroidered edge of her cuff, then she raised her face, her gaze firm and earnest.

“My lord, I hope to incorporate these children into the Dawn Fleet’s education system. Of course, I also hope that the Tracing Source Order branch, which I represent, can obtain the talent recruitment opportunity of the ‘Dawn Education Project’.”

Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable persistence.

The immense pressure from the Zerg swarm and the abstract nature of the Imperial defenses made her feel very insecure.

In the future, her land in Esteria will serve as a temporary office in the southwestern part of the Extreme Starfield, with the main task of collecting healthy and stable psionicists and providing them with a relatively safe and stable environment for growth.

But Aglaia ultimately chose the Wings of Dawn as the final destination for these children.

I won't go into detail about the living environment; these days, you couldn't find any force that could provide such conditions for human growth even with a lantern.

In the field of education, Ramses, as an expert in psychic energy, had extensive experience in its application. She even studied his book, "The Nature and Application of Psychic Energy (Preschool Education Edition)," every day and benefited greatly from it.

As for future employment, there's no need to worry.

With the invasion of extragalactic aliens like the Zerg, the intensity of war in the galaxy will visibly escalate. Lord Ramses has been trying to expand the think tank forces because of their irreplaceable importance in localized operations.

Of course, his ideas weren't decided on a whim; he was still in the talent development phase, meaning the think tanks of various warbands were being brought to the Dawn for re-education. After long periods of academic discussion with the Eldar prophets, Ramses now believed that the vast majority of Imperial psykers were unqualified in their application of psyker technology.

Stable psionicists are good candidates for think tanks.

As for psionicists who cannot pass the Astartes' screening, organizations such as the Inquisition, the Assassin's Court, and the Star Court also have plenty of positions for them.

The Churisas assassins, who are composed of untouchables, have already opened branches on the Dawn, and Aglaia believes she needs to keep up with the Grand Master of Assassins.

Having followed the four adults across half the galaxy, her mindset had undergone some subtle changes.

Since the Empire's bloated and inefficient system is no longer a viable option, it would be better to entrust its power to the Wings of Dawn, who are better at utilizing it.

"Has the report been submitted?"

Arthur asked.

"The list and detailed methods have been submitted to Lord Romulus, but several other officials still need to make a decision before it can be approved."

Aglaia replied immediately.

The decision-making mechanism within Dawnwing has always been like this: each core member has veto power, and important matters must be approved by all four parties.

Ramses would periodically convene small groups to address these issues, and of course, those responsible for the problems could also choose to visit them in person.

At least their own boss has always been at the center of power.

The dark angels, who had been fuming because of the ritual performed by the Holy Blood Angels, immediately calmed down considerably.

They also knew that for the safety of the entire fleet, they had to keep their existence a secret, and these places where they could show their faces were definitely not where they should get involved at the moment.

It's really stupid to disrupt Dawnwing's strategic plans just because of a momentary impulse.

But everything is afraid of comparison.

Look at the Holy Blood Angel, radiant and revered under the spotlight of all forces in the empire.

Then look at the ambitious Ultramarines who orchestrate the entire system and control the Wings of Dawn.

Finally, look at yourself. You keep secrets every day. Apart from necessary communication with troublesome guys like the Wolf Pack that you can't avoid, even Grand Marshal Ledodes, whose relationship with you is as solid as that of the Black Temple, is unaware of their existence.

I understand, but I'm genuinely annoyed.

"I agree."

Arthur replied.

It's just a matter of having more people. They believe that their ideological level is still higher than that of the vast majority of imperial people, so recruiting these special talents is not difficult.

If they don't even have this much confidence, they shouldn't even think about changing the world.

"Thank you, Lord Arthur."

Aglaia bowed slightly, and she suddenly felt the atmosphere around her become much more calm.

War means bloodshed, and the losses she suffered were among the least.

"You should also thank the soldiers who fought for it; it is because of their sacrifice that we have achieved this miracle."

Arthur continued.

The Weepers did not use the Extinction Order as they would normally do, razing the Garden World to the ground. Instead, they fought for the sake of countless survivors, sacrificing themselves to bring salvation to countless lives.

Aglaia nodded solemnly, understanding the four adults' respect for life. She looked down at the sanctuary, where a gallery illuminated by bright light displayed a series of paintings that fully depicted the battlefield belonging to the weeping ones.

Craters, corpses, enemies everywhere, warriors as stubborn as rocks, the empire's eagle flag was cut down, and behind them were countless people who followed one after another.

The sky was deep and dark, the light was like starlight, and the earth was covered with scattered gold, intertwined with blood, so colorful that it was hard to look away.

Mottled yet magnificent, cruel yet sacred.

Very beautiful.

Having experienced several wars and glimpsed the cruelty of the battlefield from countless documents, Aglaia experienced 'beauty' for the first time in a war.

This is different from the generous gifts from the four adults; this is a poem written with the lives of those who weep.

Her gaze lingered on the mottled flag, the blood-stained heart pattern trembling in the wind as if it were still beating.

This is a unique beauty that belongs only to them, and to one of the few remaining beauties in this universe.

Karna raised his spear, its tip gleaming in the beam of light cast from the dome of the sanctuary.

Beside him, ceremonial armor and flags symbolizing glory gleamed, and thank-you notes from the rescued people, recounting their stories, were placed in the most prominent spot.

Forros's breath hitched.

He saw Karna's fingertips trace the edges of a yellowed letter, in which a child had drawn a picture of a weeping figure in childish handwriting.

At this moment, he truly understood the Primarch's hidden thoughts.

This is not just a simple commendation, but a recognition of the core spirit of their entire team and an affirmation of the path they have adhered to.

Under the watchful eyes of countless high-ranking imperial officials and blood relatives, the Weepers once again received Karna's invitation.

He said he would give those letters, each brimming with emotion, to:
"Come to me, heroes."

They are heroes.

They shouldn't be alone.

(End of this chapter)