Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 547 Chen Xi's Worries

The heavy ships bear the solemn insignia of the Inquisition, like the silent Leviathan navigating the unpredictable currents of the subspace.

Inside the bridge, dim red light illuminated the busy servo skulls and the pensive technical priests.

The deep, continuous hum of the Geller force field generator was the only background noise, isolating the unnatural colors churning outside the porthole, defying reality.

In the vortex of violet and dark green intertwined, the outline of a huge but blurry eye occasionally condenses, only to dissipate instantly under the stable thrust of the engine.

The air was cold, mixed with the scents of promethium incense, ozone, and metal, creating a lingering sense of oppression that seeped into the bones.

Deep within the bridge, far from the hustle and bustle of the main control panel, Chen Xi stood in front of a massive tactical holographic projection table.

The star map rotated silently, with the Rostov sub-sector's points of light twinkling steadily within it, like isolated islands in a dark ocean.

The cold light from the projected image shone on his calm face, yet a deep worry lingered between his brows, churning endlessly like the nebulae outside the window.

His fingertips unconsciously tapped lightly on the icon of the Rostov III Casting World, producing a faint tapping sound, the only outward rhythm revealing his thoughts.

A slight hydraulic sound rang out as the heavy, adamantite hatch slid open.

Hathor walked in.

She had shed the Terminator power armor that symbolized power and the past, and put back on her signature dark gray executive secretary uniform, which was well-tailored and accentuated her capable figure.

However, the invisible majesty belonging to the original gene was not diminished in the slightest. On the contrary, this deliberate restraint revealed an even more restrained tension.

Her steps were steady, and the heels of her boots made a clear and rhythmic sound as they tapped on the fine gold floor.

She walked to Chen Xi's side and looked with him at the star field made of data.

Her gaze was calm, and the faint light of the star map was reflected in the depths of her molten gold eyes.

"How is Felus?" Chen Xi's voice broke the silence.

He didn't turn around; his gaze remained fixed on the Rostov-3 marker.

“Sage Aurejana has sent an updated report.” Hathor’s voice was steady and clear, as if he were delivering a routine briefing, yet it carried an undeniable weight.

"Vital signs are stable, and deep scans have not detected any permanent organic damage or disruption of neural connections."

The reconstructive surgery is proceeding smoothly inside her sealed repair pod, and she is expected to regain basic mobility within a week.

She paused for a moment, then added.

"She locked herself completely in the Silent Furnace's independent maintenance compartment and refused all requests for visitation, including those from Olegana."

The repair work was done independently by her own multi-purpose servo arm and built-in medical system.

Only energy consumption data and traces of waste disposal remained outside the cabin.

Chen Xi sighed softly, the sigh sounding particularly clear in the quiet depths of the bridge, as if it carried an immense weight.

"A life-or-death struggle brought temporary peace."

But can the rift truly be mended? He finally turned around, his gaze falling on Hathor's face, carefully examining the turmoil that might be hidden beneath her calm exterior. "You spared her life."

At that moment, I was outside the force field barrier, watching you 'Claws of Horus' grip her throat, and I almost thought... you would finally put an end to this millennia-old feud. His tone was inquisitive, but also held a hint of tension that was barely perceptible.

Hathor paused for a moment, then turned her gaze back to the ever-changing star map projection, the Rostov lights dancing in her molten gold eyes.

"Death cannot mend the cracks in Istvan 5, nor can it bring back the brothers who turned to ashes in the flames of the Warmaster's betrayal." Her voice was deep and clear, carrying a penetrating power that came with the passage of time.

"The cycle of hatred will only drain the empire of its lifeblood, making it even weaker."

She needs to live, Governor.

Her technical expertise, her understanding of the essence of mechanics, her iron will—these are all indispensable forces for forging the world, for the Psionic Knight project, and perhaps even for the future empire… She tilted her head slightly, looking at Chen Xi with sharp eyes.

“Anger can be a flame that tempers steel, but only if she can look away from my throat and cast her gaze toward the abyss further away, the one that truly threatens the survival of humanity.” Her voice was even lower, carrying an almost cold clarity.

"Besides... killing Felus will only make it harder for the other surviving brothers to accept my existence, blocking any possibility of reconciliation in your plan."

This was Chen Xi's deepest worry, like a cold, massive rock.

He walked to the control panel at the edge of the projector, his fingertips tracing the cold metal surface, bringing a touch of real texture.

“That’s exactly what I was worried about, Hathor.”

"Ferus... is just the beginning, a signal flare." He brought up a marker on the star chart, and a bright spot labeled "Macurag" was magnified.

“Guilliman…” he said the name with a heavy tone, as if he were moving a piece of fine gold.

"When he finally awakens from the eternal slumber of the static field and opens his eyes, he will see the current decay of the Empire, the bloated bureaucracy, the fanaticism of the state religion... and the actions of me, the 'governor' who controls a subsector without being appointed by the Terra Highlords."

Then, he will see you... in this form, standing beside me. Chen Xi's fingertips lingered on Guilliman's name.

"His hatred for Horus was probably deeper, more rational, and more...deadly than that for Pheros."

That was the excruciating pain of betrayed ideals, torn empires apart, and fratricide; after millennia of sedimentation, it has long since solidified into cold, lifeless foundations.

He shook his head slightly.

As he manipulated the star map, it shrank, and another point of light was illuminated—"Caliban".

“And then there’s Lion King Ryan,” Chen Xi continued.

"If he were to awaken from his millennia-long slumber and find the Empire crumbling, the Throne World in peril, and 'Horus'—the embodiment of betrayal—serving a mere local governor..." He imagined the Primarch's possible reaction, one whose highest principles were loyalty and purity.

"Given his almost obsessive standards of order and orthodoxy, would he tolerate it? The Khan might make a few sarcastic remarks with his unique, elusive language, but what about his inner thoughts? The Wolf King Lemanrus may seem rough and unruly, but his mind is more meticulous and profound than anyone else's... Saint Gilles..." Chen Xi's voice choked as he mentioned his most perfect brother who had fallen at the hands of Horus.

He closed his eyes, as if stung by the imagined perfect face and the sorrow of its fall, and said no more.

That pain is an ultimate wound between the original entities that can never be healed.

“Every surviving loyal Primarch is a dormant volcano, its surface silent, but its core churning with millennia of pain, heavy memories, and an inescapable responsibility to the Empire.” Chen Xi’s voice was filled with deep weariness.

(End of this chapter)