Three days passed in a flash.
A new group of visitors arrived in Aurelian IV's orbit.
A fleet composed of three cruisers and twelve frigates appeared in geosynchronous orbit.
Their hulls were painted a cold iron-grey, the armor plating riddled with rivets and weld scars, making them look like moving fortresses of steel.
The heraldry on their prows was a white skull mask.
The Iron Warriors Legion.
On the bridge of the Iron Blade, Warsmith Barabas Dantioch stood before the tactical hologram.
This future hero of the Imperium, the Warden of the Pharos, a Loyalist Warsmith.
His face was completely obscured by a heavy helmet, with only two icy glints piercing through the lenses.
"Blood Angels Legion signal confirmed," the adjutant reported. "The Red Tear and its escort fleet remain in orbital overwatch. Ground combat within the City of the Holy Anthem Hive is ongoing, but the scale has been reduced to localized skirmishes."
Dantioch nodded.
His voice crackled through the helmet's vox-caster.
"Link me to the Red Tear. I wish to speak with Commander Azkaellon. Also, dispatch three tactical squads to the surface to assist the Blood Angels in purging the remaining Corrupted." he added. "Remember! We are only here to provide support. Do not claim glory, and do not overstep your bounds. The Iron Warriors have no need to steal honor from a brother Legion."
The adjutant offered a crisp salute.
An hour later, five hundred Iron Warriors Astartes plummeted into the City of the Holy Anthem Hive in drop pods, like a shower of falling stars.
Their combat style was entirely distinct from that of the Blood Angels. There were no glorious charges, no acts of individual heroism—only cold, ruthlessly efficient tactical coordination.
They operated in squads of three, forming a triangle of firepower.
The rhythm of their bolter fire was as precise as a metronome, every volley clearing out a safe zone.
Whenever they encountered particularly stubborn Warp threats or massive swarms of Corrupted, they would simply call in orbital bombardments, solving the problem in the most brutal manner possible.
When Tobias linked up with an Iron Warriors squad on the battlefield, he couldn't help but sigh.
"You lot are... remarkably direct."
The Iron Warriors Sergeant leading the squad didn't even look back, reloading a melta-battery as he spoke.
"Efficiency is all that matters."
He paused, uncharacteristically offering a rare sentence of explanation.
"War is not a performance art. It is mathematics. Achieving the maximum result with the minimum cost—this was the very first lesson our Father, Primarch Perturabo, taught us."
Tobias was rendered speechless.
He suddenly remembered what his Father, Sanguinius, had taught them.
"Combat must be elegant, precise, disciplined. Remember, we were once ghouls, but the sons of Sanguinius must shine as bright as the stars."
Two Legions, two ideologies.
–
Kent Hive, Outer Ring Defense Wall.
Cogboy stood outside the massive blast doors with a squad of players and hive officials.
On the distant horizon, dust billowed into the air.
An army was returning.
[Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] sat in the passenger seat of a modified Chimera troop transport, riding at the very front of the formation.
The highway behind him stretched for kilometers, forming a massive convoy of troop transports, armored vehicles, and self-propelled artillery.
When they departed, this planetary defense force of thirty-seven thousand men had banners flying like a forest and morale surging like a rainbow.
Upon their return, only fifteen thousand remained.
Many of the transports were empty, their cargo bays piled high with the dog tags and personal effects of the fallen.
The exterior armor of some vehicles still bore scorch marks, claw gashes, and dried yellow-green stains left behind by some corrosive slime.
The soldiers sat in the transports, many wrapped in bandages. Their eyes were exhausted, but their spines remained perfectly straight.
They had endured the daemonic tide in the Aru Industrial Zone, crawling out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood. They had been forged in fire and blood.
Now, they were home.
Cogboy took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The troop transport stopped in front of him. [Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] hopped out and delivered a crisp, standard military salute.
"Lord Governor, the Crimson Dawn's 3rd Provisional Composite Brigade of the Aurelian Kent Hive PDF has completed its mission and returned," his voice was somewhat hoarse. "We deployed with thirty-seven thousand men; we return with fifteen thousand, two hundred and fourteen. Twenty-one thousand, seven hundred and eighty-six are KIA. Over three thousand are heavily wounded or permanently disabled."
Cogboy fell silent for a moment before returning a solemn salute.
"You've done well." He looked at the soldiers disembarking one after another and raised his voice. "To all officers and men, you have my utmost respect! You fought for Aurelian IV, you fought for humanity, and you fought for the Crimson Dawn! Your sacrifices will never be forgotten!"
The soldiers paused in their tracks, looking toward the Governor who had pushed through the new policies in the Kent Hive.
Cogboy turned and issued orders to the officials behind him.
"Arrange their barracks. Prepare hot water and hot meals. Have the medical teams on full standby. Tell the logistics department to prepare a feast tonight—highest standard."
"Yes, sir!" The officials jogged off to execute the orders.
Only then did [Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] look at Cogboy, lowering his voice.
"Is Blood Angel's side ready?"
"Ready to go," Cogboy nodded. "Just waiting for nightfall."
--
Night fell, and the crimson and silver moons rose in tandem.
Kent Hive, PDF garrison base, central parade ground.
Over fifteen thousand soldiers stood in neat formations.
They had changed into clean uniforms, and their wounds had been treated.
Though exhaustion still lingered on many faces, a hint of light had returned to their eyes.
Massive lumen-towers had been erected around the parade ground, illuminating the entire area as brightly as day.
A temporary podium had been built on the edge of the grounds, flying the banner of the Crimson Dawn.
It bore a crimson background with a golden rising sun in the center, encircled by patterns of stars, cogwheels, and wheat sheaves.
Blood Angel slowly walked up to the podium.
He wore a simple, unadorned grey uniform, the emblem of the Dawn pinned to his chest.
The player wore a deeply solemn expression as his gaze swept across every face in the crowd.
The vox-casters carried his voice across the entire parade ground.
"Warriors! Brothers!"
The opening was simple and direct, yet it made every soldier straighten their backs.
"A few days ago, you departed from this very spot and marched to the Aru Industrial Zone. You faced monsters beyond the comprehension of reason, profane constructs spawned from the Warp, and horrors enough to shatter a mortal's sanity. But you did not falter,"
Blood Angel's voice gradually grew impassioned. "I heard that the brothers of the 5th Company used their own flesh and blood to block the charge of those Xenos, buying time for the artillery bombardment! The brothers of the 3rd Battalion used their combat knives when their ammo ran out, used their fists when their knives snapped, and used their teeth when their fists were shattered! On the retreat, the medics braved the risk of corruption to save the wounded, and the quartermasters went three days and three nights without closing their eyes just to ensure the brothers on the front lines got an extra bite to eat!"
Every word he spoke caused the soldiers below to clench their fists.
Those bloody, tragic, yet absolutely unyielding memories surged back into their minds.
"Twenty-one thousand, seven hundred and eighty-six of our comrades were left on that battlefield forever," Blood Angel's voice lowered into a solemn register. "Who were they? They were fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers. They came from every stratum of the Kent Hive. There were the sons of miners, the daughters of mechanics, the little brothers of teachers, and the older brothers of peddlers. But now, they share one common name."
He took a deep breath, his voice abruptly rising in volume. "The Heroes of the Crimson Dawn! Their sacrifices will not be in vain! I hereby announce that, by the decree of the highest council of the Crimson Dawn and the Aurelian Youth League, the compensation policies for our fallen warriors are as follows."
Blood Angel picked up a document and began to read.
"First, the immediate families of all fallen will receive a direct death benefit of one hundred thousand Aurelian Coins. Following this, they will receive a monthly pension of ten thousand Aurelian Coins, paid continuously for the next twenty years.
Second, the immediate families of all fallen will enjoy free lifetime healthcare. The Crimson Dawn will construct hospitals on every hive tier, and medical resources will be heavily subsidized for the bereaved.
Third, the offspring of all fallen will receive free mandatory education from ages six to fifteen. We will reconstruct the entire hive's educational system, ensuring that every child has books to read and a school to attend.
Fourth... we will construct the Crimson Dawn Garden of Heroes within the middle tier of the Kent Hive. The names of all our fallen will be engraved on the monoliths of the Garden. Their stories will be written into the hive's textbooks. And on this day every year, the entire hive will hold a day of remembrance, so that our descendants will forever remember who laid down their lives to buy the peace they enjoy today!"
The PDF garrison fell into a brief silence.
Then, thunderous applause suddenly erupted.
Many soldiers had red eyes as they clapped with all their might.
It wasn't as if they hadn't had relatives serve in the PDF under the Merchant Guilds before.
If you died executing a mission back then, you just died.
Pensions?
You were lucky if they sent a bit of food.
If you were unlucky and they couldn't recover the body, you didn't even get food; they would simply label the man a deserter, and the family would be slapped with a hefty fine.
But now? A direct payout of a hundred grand, ten grand a month afterward, free healthcare, education for their children, names carved into monoliths, and official days of remembrance...
This was a level of respect they had never even dared to imagine in their past lives.
Blood Angel waited for the applause to die down slightly before continuing.
"And as for those of you who survived," he smiled, "a combat bonus of fifty thousand Aurelian Coins per person will be wired to your personal accounts by the end of the day. Furthermore, everyone is granted five days of leave! For these five days, you can go home and spend time with your families, you can stroll through the hive's newly built commercial districts, you can go to the public bathhouses for a hot soak—all entirely free! After those five days, anyone willing to continue their service will receive an automatic one-rank promotion and a 5% pay bump. For those who wish to retire and transition to civilian life, the Crimson Dawn will arrange jobs for you, with priority placement in the newly built factories, schools, hospitals, and administrative departments!"
The cheers nearly blew the night sky wide open.
Soldiers hugged one another, pounded each other on the chest, and some even jumped up and down in pure excitement.
Watching this scene, the smile on Blood Angel's face grew even more gratified.
He raised both hands, making a pressing motion to quiet them down.
The entire crowd gradually fell silent.
"But, brothers," Blood Angel's voice turned profound, "I want to ask you a question. What do we fight for? Remember," he said sternly, "it is not for that fifty thousand coin bonus, nor is it for those five days of leave. We fight so that our parents can be cared for in their old age and treated when they fall ill. We fight so that our children can receive an education and have a future. We fight so that our wives and sisters will never again have to sell their bodies for a few mouthfuls of clean water. So that they never have to trade their dignity just to survive. We fight..."
Blood Angel spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the entire hive city. "...to turn Aurelian IV into a world where honest work earns you food and warmth, where effort earns you respect, and where everyone has hope! And this is the promise we make to you!" His voice resonated throughout the entire encampment. "Now, tell me! Are you willing to fight for this ideal world?!"
"WE ARE!!"
The roar of fifteen thousand men shook the very ground.
"Do you believe that the Crimson Dawn can lead you to such a future?!"
"WE BELIEVE!!"
"Good," Blood Angel abruptly raised his hand. "Then let us shout that name together! Long live the Crimson Dawn!! Long live Aurelian!!"
The tidal wave of voices echoed like a tsunami across the hive's night sky.
The instant the speech concluded, Blood Angel clapped his hands.
The side gates of the camp opened, and dozens of servers slowly rolled in food carts.
The carts were piled high with roasted meat—real meat, not the synthesized nutritional paste made from corpse starch.
Large slabs of roast meat sizzled and dripped grease under the firelight, the rich aroma wafting across the grounds.
There were also heaps of potatoes, each the size of a fist, roasted until their skins were crispy and their insides soft and fluffy.
This was a feast of a magnitude Aurelian IV hadn't seen in decades.
The soldiers were stunned.
Many of them hadn't seen this much meat in their entire lives.
"What are you all standing around for?!" Blood Angel laughed heartily. "Warriors! Enjoy the fruits bought by your blood and courage... the Feast of Victory!"
Following a brief silence, cheers erupted once again.
The soldiers swarmed the food carts, grabbed their portions, sat down on the ground, and feasted like kings.
They laughed, clinking their potatoes together like glasses in a toast.
Meat juices smeared across their mouths, but no one bothered to wipe them away.
Because this was the taste of victory. This was the taste of hope.
In the distant shadows, Cogboy and [Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the scene unfold.
"When it comes to ideological work, Blood Angel is a true professional," Cogboy sighed with admiration.
[Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] nodded. "When the hearts of the people are united, the army is easy to lead. Once these veterans finish their R&R, I can use them as a skeleton crew to expand and reorganize the forces. With their actual combat experience from the Aru Industrial Zone, combined with the modernized training manuals we exchanged from the System Shop... give me half a year, and I can pull together an elite force of a hundred thousand."
Cogboy chuckled. "No rush. We can wait for the Primarchs to withdraw and for us to officially take over this planet first. We still have time to build, to develop, to cultivate the society we truly need. We look forward to the arrival of the dawn amidst the pitch-black night sky. As long as we hold the dawn in our hearts, no matter how cold or how long the night may be, those who harbor hope will eventually welcome the dawn."
--
Goal = 300 Powerstones.
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