Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 548 Hope Amidst Despair

"Your existence, Hathor, is a living, inescapable scar for each of them."

It is a concrete symbol of betrayal, pain, and loss.

Feralus started it all, venting his pent-up anger of millennia in the most intense and primal way.

But what about next time? What about when the next brother returns and senses your presence? Must every reunion end in a life-or-death battle? How much precious time and energy do we... have left to waste on this kind of internal strife and fratricide? The Empire cannot afford such attrition.

Hathor listened quietly to Chen Xi's worries, his face remaining calm and expressionless.

But Chen Xi keenly sensed an extremely subtle fluctuation in her mental field, like an undercurrent suddenly sweeping across a calm sea.

“Hatred is the shackles of the soul, Governor.”

It heavily binds the living and eternally torments the memories of the dead.

"I understand them, and even... I accept any form of judgment they may have." Her gaze, sharp as a quenched blade, met Chen Xi's worries.

"But I will not sit idly by and wait for my doom, nor will I allow hatred towards me to destroy everything you have painstakingly built, or to destroy the 'lifeline' that the Rostov sub-sector might bring to this dark age."

"If they insist on drawing their swords against each other," she said in a terrifyingly calm tone, yet with an iron will.

"I will once again take up the 'Worldbreaker' and the 'Claw of Horus'."

It's not to wash away the indelible sins of the past, but to protect the glimmer of light you ignited, to safeguard the order upon which millions of lives in this sector depend.

Her gaze returned to the rotating star chart.

The light spot in Rostov shone steadily in her eyes.

"As for how to deal with them... Governor, perhaps we should change our approach."

Instead of worrying about how they view my sinful body, let's think about what we can do for them, for this crumbling empire." She pointed to Guilliman's mark on the star map.

"If Guilliman were to wake up, he would be faced with a mess on the verge of complete collapse."

He will need strength, reliable allies, and a solid foundation to support his massive reconstruction plans.

The Rostov sub-sector is this cornerstone.

"Our well-trained army, our ever-increasing industrial capacity, the weapons we are developing that could change the course of the war... even that prototype of the psionic knight that combines danger and hope," she paused, looking firmly at Chen Xi.

"And...my power."

These are all bargaining chips that the Imperial Regent desperately needs.

The key is not who 'I' am, but what 'I' can do, and whether 'we' can prove that everything we do is for the survival of the empire, for the future of humanity, and not for any individual's ambition or selfishness.

Chen Xi's gaze lingered on the slowly rotating star map for a long time.

That glimmer of light representing Rostov appeared so small against the vast dark background, yet so tenacious.

"The future of the empire..." His voice carried a deep sense of powerlessness, as if he were assessing a colossal ship slowly sinking into the cold void.

"It is no longer the flagship that cleaved through the waves during the Great Expedition."

The glory of the golden age has long since faded into a faded mural.

The ideals of the Great Expedition were soaked, cooled, and solidified by the blood of betrayal. What remains now is blind fanaticism under the shadow of divine authority, deep-rooted corruption in the bureaucratic system, irreversible technological regression, and endless, all-consuming, brutal warfare. His fingers traced the jagged borders of the empire's territory on the star map.

"We were like a few sailors desperately patching up the leaks on deck, using every material at our disposal to try and delay its eventual sinking."

But we don't even know from which direction the next deadly wave will come, or in what form it will arrive.

Warren's warning, the dangerous technology lurking in the ruins, the countdown to that 'major event' hanging overhead... and the omnipresent eyes and ears of the Inquisition on this bridge..." He glanced around at the silent, vigilant figures deep within the bridge.

"Every step was like walking on thin ice."

Every decision can trigger unpredictable chain reactions.

He looked at Hathor with a complex expression, a mixture of trust, worry, and uncertainty about the future.

“Sometimes, Hathor, I really don’t know if we’re repairing a sinking ship or futilely building a sandcastle destined to be washed away by the next wave? Do the ‘pieces’ we put in bring hope for survival in the darkness, or deeper, more uncontrollable chaos?”

Hathor walked to the other side of the star chart table and looked at Chen Xi across the chart.

Bathed in the deep blue light of the star map, her figure appeared exceptionally tall and lonely, like a statue guarding a lighthouse.

“Hope is born from the depths of despair, Governor.” Her voice was steady and powerful, like a hammer striking steel.

"Even if we ultimately determine that the empire is destined to sink, our duty is not to watch it slide into the abyss."

What we need to do is to let it fire its last and most powerful shell before it sinks; to buy more time for those on board who have not yet been swallowed by darkness and are still struggling to survive, to create as much shelter as possible; and even to point out a possible path to survival for those who come after. Her finger precisely pointed to the location of the Rostov sub-sector on the star map, her fingertip seemingly gathering a faint but persistent light.

"As for chaos... any attempt to change the status quo will inevitably be accompanied by chaos."

But chaos may also mark the beginning of a difficult germination of a new order.

We cannot predict what the future of the galaxy will look like, but we can choose to hold our swords tightly in the present and point them at our true enemies—the corruption of chaos, the threat of aliens, and… the deep-seated decay within the Empire itself.

No matter how the future unfolds, no matter how my other brothers view me, I will stand by your side, Governor, and fulfill my duty until the very last moment.

The empire needs not flawless saints, but warriors who can still discern direction and dare to wield their swords even in boundless darkness.

A long silence fell over the depths of the bridge.

Only the deep, steady hum of the ship's engines and the silent, bizarre roar of the subspace storm outside the portholes form a grand and eerie backdrop.

Chen Xi shifted his gaze from the faint light on the star map that represented responsibility and hope, and turned it once again to the unpredictable void outside the porthole, a void teeming with endless unknowns and dangers.

Hathor's words, like a cold anchor, sank heavily and steadily into the churning sea of ​​doubt in his heart, temporarily stabilizing the small boat called "Determination".

The road ahead remains fraught with difficulties.

Surrounded by formidable enemies.

The shadow of fratricide hangs like the Sword of Damocles.

The fate of the empire, this behemoth, is even more shrouded in mystery, and the shadow of its sinking seems never to have dissipated.

But at least for now, during his solitary journey through subspace, he was not alone.

(End of this chapter)