While Adam and his group crossed through layer after layer of massive gates to arrive at the entrance of the Throneroom, elsewhere, deep within the Antarctic headquarters of the Inquisition, a secret meeting was underway.
Incense hung in the air like physical ribbons, and the nearly stagnant atmosphere was punctuated only by the subtle crackling of burning holy candles. The flickering firelight cast long, distorted shadows of twisted reliefs and countless martyr urns against the walls.
A large number of Inquisitors were gathered here. They wore iconic black plate or dark robes, adorned with varying insignias and badges representing the myriad Ordos and factions that even they themselves could not always fully distinguish. Beneath the shadows of hoods or upon bare faces, their gazes crossed sharply. In the silence, countless private arguments and calculations flowed past.
It was rare in Imperial history for the Hetaeron Guard to directly propose a coordination request to the Inquisition. The implications were significant enough for these Inquisitors, accustomed to pondering conspiracies, to chew on repeatedly. Among the crowd, several invited Lord Inquisitors were clearly divided in their opinions.
Some viewed this move as an arrogant provocation by the Custodes, an overstepping of boundaries and an erosion of the Inquisition's authority. Others believed that for the Custodes to take the initiative to speak, it must concern a matter of immense gravity for the safety of Terra or even the Imperium; it would be wise to listen before making a judgment.
With a low grinding sound, the massive doors of the room slid open.
The newcomers entered. Leading them was a female Inquisitor clad in a well-tailored Inquisition-pattern greatcoat, the Rosette hanging at her waist swaying gently with her stride. She looked travel-worn, her hood lowered to reveal a calm but slightly pale face. Numerous details of her attire proclaimed her membership in the Ordo Malleus—the dangerous rank that dealt daily with the most abominable entities of the Warp.
What made the air in the room freeze was the presence of the two Custodians following her like shadows. Their golden armor flowed with a cold luster under the candlelight, standing silent yet projecting a powerful, invisible pressure.
"Is that... Sibylla Baligris?"
Whispers spread rapidly through the crowd. Almost every Inquisitor present recognized her. After all, an Alpha-level psyker was extremely rare, even within the talent-rich Inquisition. Some more radical Inquisitors even viewed her as a walking unstable bomb, a potential risk needing strict monitoring.
"I didn't know when you became the mouthpiece for the Custodes," a slightly mocking voice came from the shadows on the left, belonging to an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos.
Sibylla, who had arrived on Holy Terra through the Eternity Gate alongside Adam, remained silent. She merely swept her calm gaze over the source of the voice, her pace never faltering as she walked straight toward the high platform at the front of the room.
"It was merely a coincidence that I took on the necessary communication duties," she spoke as she walked, her voice clear and steady, devoid of any emotional fluctuation.
Sibylla stepped onto the platform and turned to face her colleagues. "Time is short; let us keep formalities and introductions brief. I am Sibylla Baligris of the Ordo Malleus, a native of Terra. Most of you here have seen me, or at least heard of me."
Due to her direct attitude, the commotion in the room subsided slightly. Some keen Inquisitors realized that the Adeptus Custodes choosing Sibylla as an intermediary might be a political consideration. A request coming from an internal member of the Inquisition was far less condescending than a direct order from the Custodes, providing a face-saving bridge for the Inquisition.
It seemed those wooden Custodians still had some political sense. Many Inquisitors secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Following the Custodes' decisive announcement to abolish the ten-thousand-year restriction order, the last thing they wanted was another confrontation.
"Then, let us begin directly," Sibylla said, giving no time for further speculation. "You should have already learned through your respective channels that the Primarch Roboute Guilliman has arrived on Terra and encountered a public attack by Chaos cultists during his transit."
She paused briefly, letting this fact sink into everyone's minds.
"Based on the comprehensive judgment of the Adeptus Custodes, the return of a Primarch—an event unseen for ten millennia—is like the brightest lighthouse, firmly drawing the gaze of the nameless horrors in the depths of the Warp toward Terra."
"They will inevitably plan a large-scale action here. Our mission is to sever every Chaos claw reaching for Holy Terra before it erupts."
She slowly recited a core maxim from the Ordo Malleus teachings, her voice echoing like metal in the silent room: "The Daemon is multi-form, this you must know. The Daemon's disguise must be revealed. The Daemon's hiding place must be destroyed."
"This is the sacred duty of the Inquisition," Sibylla concluded, her gaze sweeping the room.
"And what of the duty of the Adeptus Custodes?" a questioning voice rose again. "Protecting the Palace is their responsibility. Since this was proposed by them, what preparations have they made, and what price are they prepared to pay?"
Sibylla turned toward the voice, judging the speaker's factional leanings almost instantly based on their insignia, posture, and vocabulary. Judging that the individual held no suspicion of heresy, she did not refute them directly but turned slightly to gesture toward the Custodian beside her.
Leonardo stepped forward. His movements were precise and powerful, the sound of his armor scraping together exceptionally clear in the silence.
"The Hetaeron Guard has made corresponding deployments," Leonardo said, his voice cold but saturated with unquestionable authority. "Terra cannot be lost. Captain-General Trajann has judged that the Palace itself may face unpredictable risks. Therefore, one thousand Custodians are now on standby to support this operation."
How many?!
Many people thought they had misheard. One thousand Custodians? That was nearly one-tenth of the publicly declared total strength of the Hetaeron Guard! Are they not going to guard the Palace anymore?
Amidst the shock, professional analytical instincts kicked in: the Custodes claimed to have restored the "Ten Thousand" scale, but was that an actual number or a general term? Ten thousand and change? Or more? Was their generous allocation of troops a sign of confidence that the Palace's defenses were invulnerable, or did it mean their assessment of the coming threat was so severe that such heavy forces were mandatory?
Leonardo ignored the suspicion thick in the air and continued in his flat tone: "Furthermore, every major investigation squad and every Inquisitor participating in this operation will be assigned one to five Custodians as advisors and bodyguards to act alongside you."
He paused slightly, allowing the Inquisitors time to digest this absurdly luxurious configuration.
"A total of five hundred Custodians will act with you as vanguard reconnaissance units. Another five hundred Custodians with heavy units will serve as a strategic reserve, ready to respond to emergencies at any time."
Leonardo turned slightly, as if scrutinizing everyone. "Inquisitors, you need only focus on discovery and locking targets. Once a high-value target or signs of large-scale Chaos contamination are confirmed, you may activate the teleportation beacons we have provided. At that point, the main Custodian force will intervene directly via teleportation to extinguish all threats with absolute force."
Most of the Inquisitors now cast aside their various schemes, their expressions turning deathly serious. Such a resolute stance... They no longer questioned, but began to truly measure the situation they were about to face.
"For the Emperor!"
The oath rose from various parts of the room, heavy and determined. Amidst the sound, the candlelight flickered violently, stretching the shadows on the walls into even more hideous shapes.