Paul stood on a stretch of coral rubble flattened by artillery fire, sizing up the man in front of him.
Saul Tarvitz.
He was a bit taller than Paul expected, pushing around seven-and-a-half feet. Considering the average Astartes hovered closer to seven feet, he stood out.
His deep purple artificer armor was decked out with the gorgeous detailing unique to the Emperor's Children. Gilded filigree ran along the edges of his pauldrons, and the winged claw insignia of his Legion was emblazoned proudly across his chest plate. A pale purple officer's cape fluttered behind him, its edges stitched with fine silver thread.
The guy was undeniably handsome. But Tarvitz had the rugged look of a textbook soldier—sharp jawline, prominent brow, and calm, piercing grey-blue eyes. His shoulder-length pale hair whipped gently in the Laeran wind, a few strands sweeping across his forehead.
He was the picture-perfect image of an old-school warrior.
"Tarvitz," Paul said quietly, holding the man's gaze. "I've heard of you."
Saul blinked in surprise.
"Word is you're pretty handy with a blade." Paul's tone was flat, carrying that trademark cold, metallic rasp of the Iron Hands. "A real master swordsman among the Emperor's Children."
"I'm looking forward to seeing you in action."
He said it casually, without any forced flattery or fake enthusiasm. But that calm, grounded acknowledgment sent a ripple of genuine warmth through Saul's chest.
Gabriel Santar. First Captain of the Iron Hands, Commander of the Morlock Guard, and one of Primarch Ferrus's most trusted sons.
Coming from a heavy hitter like that, just hearing the words I've heard of you was an immense badge of honor.
Saul opened his mouth to reply...
"Then whatever you heard was likely a rumor."
A sharp voice cut in from the side, instantly killing whatever Saul was about to say.
Paul glanced over.
A figure draped in highly ornate artificer armor was strutting their way, trailed by four Emperor's Children sergeants and a handful of soldiers in Solar Auxilia uniforms.
The craftsmanship of his armor was way above standard issue. The winged claw crest sat on the pauldron, intricate filigree crawled across the chest plate, and a pale purple cape flowed behind him.
Officer-exclusive bling.
And that face...
It was a face fit for the cover of any fashion magazine on Chemos. A razor-sharp jawline, a perfectly sculpted nose, deep-set eyes, and a pair of violet irises that practically hypnotized you.
His homeworld, Chemos, was famous for churning out artists, and Lucius was born to stand center stage. Whenever he wanted to, he could charm the pants off anyone in the room.
It was just a shame that the expression currently plastered across that flawless face completely ruined the vibe.
He looked incredibly catty. It was a deep-seated, toxic arrogance radiating straight from his bones.
"Lucius," Saul said, his voice dropping a few degrees.
Lucius. Captain of the Emperor's Children 13th Company, and the self-proclaimed "greatest swordsman of the Emperor's Children."
The absolute textbook definition of a guy who kissed up to the Primarch while treating his own brothers like dirt.
Of course, this version of Lucius hadn't fully devolved into the sickening degenerate he would later become. He was still young, still proud, and still genuinely believed he was the best duelist alive below the rank of a Primarch.
His face didn't have any of those twisted, psychotic scars yet. Instead, he just carried this... extremely punchable aura. You just wanted to smack him.
As for the four Solar Auxilia soldiers trailing behind him...
Paul caught sight of the text floating above their heads out of the corner of his eye.
[Destruction is the End]
[Let the Galaxy Burn]
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]
[The Emperor is Just a Corpse]
Black usernames.
Chaos Faction.
The expressions on those four players' faces right now were absolutely priceless.
They had only tagged along with Lucius to leech some screen time and clout. After spending the last few days hardcore kissing ass, they had managed to cozy up to the 13th Company Captain.
Lucius ate that stuff up. He was nice to whoever stroked his ego, and these four players knew exactly how to play the game. They had been aggressively spamming lines like "Lord Lucius has no equal with a blade!" and "Lord Lucius is literally the best fighter below the Primarchs!"
When Lucius mentioned he was heading out to greet the Iron Hands reinforcements, they eagerly tagged along, hoping to snag some free quest progression.
And then they were hit with the most jaw-dropping sight of their entire lives...
Five hundred Astartes rocking Iron Hands power armor.
Five hundred silver-grey figures.
And five hundred... crimson usernames floating above their heads.
[Have You Been Loyal Today?]
[Shine My Shoes Abaddon]
[I Planetary Governor Refuse to Pay the Tithe]
[Uloveme Loves Burgers]
[Kunshan Dragon Bro Never Yields]
[Lemon-Eating Shinnosuke]
And right at the front, leading the pack in a hulking, seven-and-a-half-foot suit of Gorgon Terminator armor...
[Paul Dawn]
The four Chaos players' eyes practically vibrated out of their skulls.
Crimson Dawn.
Players from the Crimson Dawn faction.
And that username, [Paul Dawn]...
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!!!
[Destruction is the End] lost his mind in the Chaos Faction chat: "Bros, look at that username!! Paul Dawn!! That's the absolute freak sitting at number one on the global reputation board!!"
[Let the Galaxy Burn]: "I see it, I see it!! The absolute madman with 999 billion rep!!"
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "What the hell are they doing here?!"
[The Emperor is Just a Corpse]: "And why are they wearing Iron Hands power armor?! Are they pulling some undercover ops shit?!"
[Destruction is the End]: "Shut the hell up!! They're looking at us!!"
Paul did, in fact, look at them.
It was just a glance. His dark gold eyes lingered on the black usernames hovering above their heads for less than a tenth of a second before calmly moving on.
But the sheer pressure that single glance dumped on the four Chaos players...
It was like a lion glancing at passing ants. It wasn't even disdain; it was complete and utter indifference.
Do you care if you accidentally step on a few bugs?
Lucius stepped right up to Paul and extended his right hand.
His posture was elegant, a perfectly calculated smile resting on his lips... the kind of smile that would make the noblewomen of Chemos swoon. Combined with that flawless face, it should have been incredibly infectious.
"I am Lucius, Captain of the Emperor's Children 13th Company." His voice held a dash of fake humility, but his deep-rooted arrogance bled right through. "The greatest swordsman among the Emperor's Children."
"I'd love to spar with you sometime, if the opportunity arises."
He held his hand out, waiting for the Iron Hands' First Captain to respond.
Paul just looked at him.
He looked at that flawless face, that catty smile, and the immense superiority complex hiding behind those violet eyes.
Then he glanced down at Lucius's outstretched hand.
He brought his gaze back up.
Turned. Walked right around Lucius.
And stepped back in front of Saul Tarvitz.
The entire sequence was completely fluid. He didn't hesitate for a second, treating Lucius like he didn't even exist.
Paul extended his own massive, silver-grey gauntlet.
"Hello, Tarvitz." His voice remained cold and hard. "I hope our collaboration here goes smoothly."
"May the bond between the Iron Hands and the Emperor's Children be as deep and agreeable as the one shared by our Primarch fathers."
Saul froze for half a second.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Lucius...
The 13th Company Captain was still standing there with his arm extended, his smile freezing into a literal plaster cast. That hand hovering in mid-air looked unfathomably awkward.
The surrounding Emperor's Children sergeants exchanged weird looks.
As for the four Chaos players...
[Destruction is the End] was aggressively spamming the chat: "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!! The disrespect!!!!"
[Let the Galaxy Burn]: "Lucius's face is totally red!! I've never seen anyone turn that red in my life!!"
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "Who the hell is this [Paul Dawn] guy?! How can he just embarrass Lucius like that?!"
"Is he not afraid Lucius is gonna draw his sword?"
[The Emperor is Just a Corpse]: "Did you not look at his username?!"
"That's the top dog of the Crimson Dawn faction!!"
"A monster who can farm over 900 billion reputation and hold 10 billion Imperial Coins has probably buffed and modded himself to the absolute limit! There's no way he's scared of Lucius!!"
"Damn it, when we logged in, the system said this was the second beta test. Do you think the Crimson Dawn faction was built by first beta players?"
"Why didn't anyone tell us there were players this ridiculously overpowered?!"
"Looks like we bet on the wrong horse again, sigh!"
"Am I just cursed when it comes to playing the market? A few days ago, gold prices skyrocketed. I literally convinced my mom to sell our house to go all-in on gold, and the second we bought in, the market crashed."
"I got totally wiped out. We went from a comfy middle-class family to drowning in debt overnight, and I'm just a freaking college kid!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... I can't even pick the right faction in a video game!"
"Damn it, I'm gonna go butcher some Laeran civilians in a bit to vent my frustration!"
–
Saul took a deep breath.
He reached out and grabbed Paul's right hand.
"Thank you for your trust, Captain Gabriel," he said, his voice steady and resolute. "I believe we'll work together perfectly."
"Now, please follow me to the 10th Company's encampment. We will wait there briefly until our father makes his descent before launching the final assault."
Paul nodded.
Saul turned to lead the way, and the five hundred Iron Hands players followed right behind him. The tide of silver-grey swept past Lucius, not a single one of them sparing him a second glance.
The Regional Chat (Crimson Dawn) was popping off.
[Shine My Shoes Abaddon]: "Holy crap bros, I'm not gonna lie."
"I thought the Blood Angels were already insanely good-looking on average, but it feels like the Emperor's Children might actually have them beat!"
[I Planetary Governor Refuse to Pay the Tithe]: "Agreed, agreed! Obviously Saul Tarvitz is gorgeous!"
"Even Lucius, that constantly-taking-L's sword champion, is handsome as hell!"
"You could literally pull any random sergeant out of their ranks and they could debut as a pop idol!"
[Uloveme Loves Burgers]: "Duh, just look at how the Emperor's Children recruit."
"Most of them are pulled from the elite noble houses on Terra. Of course they're gonna look good."
[Lemon-Eating Shinnosuke]: "Still, was it really okay for Paul to disrespect him like that?"
"He's still the Captain of the 13th Company, after all."
"Look at how red his face got from being ignored like that in broad daylight."
[Kunshan Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "So what? That's exactly why he ignored him!"
"Lucius is a textbook scumbag. Aside from his swordsmanship being kinda okay, his character and personality are pure bottom-of-the-barrel trash."
"Forget about Paul, even I wouldn't give a guy like that the time of day."
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "For real."
"Saul Tarvitz is a true hero."
"When he realized the Legion was turning traitor and the loyalists were about to get purged, he marched straight down to Isstvan III to embrace death and orbital bombardment alongside the rest of his loyal brothers."
"Whether it's his sword skills, his character, his personality, or his honor, the guy is practically perfect."
[Selling Flatbread at the Terra Palace Gates]: "Exactly, anyone with half a brain knows who they should be making friends with!"
"Lucius might be famous, but that's purely because Slaanesh plays favorites. The guy is a literal piece of shit!"
"He couldn't even beat Tarvitz in their final duel before turning traitor, and during the Scouring after the Siege of Terra, he got his ass handed to him by Cyrius—who was also corrupted—in the Legion gladiatorial pits."
"If Slaanesh hadn't intervened and cursed Cyrius because the dark god didn't want its favorite champion to die, Lucius would've been perma-dead a long time ago!"
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "Flatbread Bro, you know way too much lore."
[Selling Flatbread at the Terra Palace Gates]: "Obviously! I'm a professional Warhammer lore-nerd. Cola, you've still got a lot to learn!"
The players kept chatting away in the regional channel as they marched, the silver-grey tide gradually vanishing into the depths of the ruins.
Lucius stood perfectly still.
His hand was still hovering in mid-air.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
He slowly retracted his right arm, curling his fingers into a tight fist. His knuckles let out a sharp, cracking pop.
A flush of red crept up his neck, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears, entirely ruining his flawless face. It was pure rage, shame, and the absolute humiliation of being completely and utterly ignored.
"Damn you, Gabriel... Damn you, Tarvitz..." His voice was so low it was barely a whisper, but every single syllable was squeezed through gritted teeth.
"Don't ever give me an opening... Or I swear I'll show you exactly... what the wrath of Lucius looks like..."
He spun around, glaring at the few 13th Company sergeants trailing behind him.
Their expressions were incredibly awkward—they clearly wanted to laugh but didn't dare, and they tried to pretend they hadn't seen anything but were doing a terrible job of it.
"What happened today does not leave this spot," he enunciated each word sharply. "Otherwise, you know exactly what will happen."
The sergeants instantly snapped to attention. "Understood, Captain!"
Lucius's gaze then shifted over to the four Chaos players.
They were still completely absorbed in the shock of what they had just witnessed.
Their eyes were still glued to the direction the five hundred silver-grey figures had gone. Staring after those crimson usernames, thinking about that legendary monster holding the number one spot on the global reputation board...
Suddenly, they felt an icy stare prickling against their skin.
The four players turned their heads simultaneously, meeting Lucius's entirely dead eyes.
"Don't worry, Lord Lucius," [Destruction is the End] was the quickest to react, hastily forcing a smile. "We absolutely won't say a word! We didn't see anything at all!"
"Yeah, exactly!" [Let the Galaxy Burn] immediately backed him up. "We're just regular Auxilia grunts! We're totally clueless!"
Lucius stared them down, a slow smile creeping onto his face.
It was a gentle, friendly smile—one that carried a level of sincerity he hadn't even shown Gabriel Santar.
"Of course I believe you," he said softly.
And then...
A flash of cold steel.
Four heads left their necks at practically the exact same time, tumbling half a rotation in the air before hitting the dirt with four consecutive, sickening thuds.
Their green Auxilia uniforms were instantly soaked in blood as the four headless corpses swayed on their feet before collapsing in unison.
Lucius slowly sheathed his power sword. Not a single drop of blood stained the blade.
He looked down at the four severed heads, staring into their wide, unblinking eyes, and his smile deepened just a fraction.
"Dead men are the only ones you can truly trust."
He lifted his head, turning his attention back to the sergeants.
"Relay my orders," his voice rang out coldly. "These four Auxilia soldiers were ambushed by Laeran stragglers during a patrol. They died heroically in the line of duty."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the Emperor's Children sergeants.
"Issue them double the standard death pension."
"I'll approve the paperwork personally."
One of the sergeants immediately stood perfectly straight. "Understood, Captain!"
Lucius took one final look in the direction the silver-grey figures had disappeared, let out a cold scoff, and spun on his heel to leave.
The sergeants stood there, exchanging glances.
One of them looked down at the four corpses, then at Lucius's retreating back. After a few seconds of silence, he muttered something under his breath.
The others didn't respond. They just got to work cleaning up the bodies.