Inside the central command tent of the Iron Hands camp.
When Paul pushed the tent flap aside and walked in, the players were all gathered together, in the middle of a heated discussion.
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "What do you guys think Paul is talking about with those two Loyalists? They've been chatting forever."
[Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "What else would they talk about? Probably scheming how to stop Fulgrim's corruption."
[Shinnosuke Eating Lemons]: "Real talk though, Vespasian is actually super handsome. His face is way easier on the eyes than Lucius's."
[Have You Been Loyal Today?]: "Duh, do you even know who Vespasian is? He's literally the last shred of conscience in the Emperor's Children."
[Abaddon Shines My Shoes]: "It's a damn shame he ended up getting hacked to pieces by Fulgrim and having his head spiked to the bridge..."
[Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "Stop talking, stop talking, you're gonna make me emo."
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "I think we should just charge straight into the temple tomorrow and snatch the sword!"
[Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "Are you crazy? That's the loot Fulgrim is after, and you want to just run in and grab it?"
"The Phoenician will probably slice you into human nuggets on the spot!"
[Shinnosuke Eating Lemons]: "Then what do we do? We can't just sit back and watch him take it, right?"
[Have You Been Loyal Today?]: "Shut up, Paul is back. Let's hear what he has to say."
Everyone turned their heads in unison to look at Paul as he walked in.
Paul swept his gaze over the players in the tent before walking to the head seat and sitting down.
[Have You Been Loyal Today?] quickly jogged over. "Paul, how'd it go?"
"What did the two Loyalists say?"
Paul gave a faint smile. "I subtly dropped some hints that the Blade of the Laer isn't what it seems."
"I also told them to keep an eye out for any abnormal behavior from Fulgrim."
"And told them to protect themselves."
[Have You Been Loyal Today?] let out a sigh of relief. "That's good."
"At least they've got their guard up now."
Paul nodded. "Get some good rest tonight."
"Prepare for tomorrow's battle."
He stood up, his gaze sweeping across every face in the tent.
"Tomorrow, we're going to truly participate in one of the most critical moments in Warhammer history."
"The Fall of the Phoenix."
"This isn't like Aurelian IV or the Dal homeworld."
"Those were just background lore events."
"Tomorrow..."
"We are actual witnesses to history."
The tent went quiet for a couple of seconds.
And then, a spark of pure anticipation ignited in the players' eyes.
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "Holy crap, just thinking about it gets me hyped!"
[Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "The feeling of literally making history!"
[Shinnosuke Eating Lemons]: "Bros, let's bring our A-game tomorrow!"
"If those Chaos players dare to mess around."
"We'll show them exactly what Crimson Dawn is made of!"
[Have You Been Loyal Today?]: "Alright, alright, everyone go get some sleep."
"Recharge your batteries, we've got big things to do tomorrow!"
The players quickly dispersed, heading back to their respective cots.
The tent soon fell completely quiet, leaving only the cold white glow of the floodlights.
Paul sat cross-legged on his cot and slowly closed his eyes.
He wasn't sleeping; he was waiting for an opening.
--
The night deepened.
Inside Vespasian's tent at the Tenth Company's camp.
The Lord Commander of the Emperor's Children lay on his military cot, his eyes closed, his breathing steady.
But his consciousness had already slipped into the realm of dreams.
The dream began.
The images were blurred and distorted, like looking at the world through murky water.
He saw a purple silhouette.
It was his Father, Fulgrim.
His Father stood in the center of a majestic temple, gripping a longsword that radiated a bizarre, eerie light.
The blade was slender, the edge glinting with a sinister, cold gleam.
It was the Blade of the Laer.
Then, everything around him began to warp.
The gorgeous decorations started to rot, the exquisite murals peeled away, and the solemn pillars crumbled to dust.
The purple silhouette stood perfectly still, unmoving.
But his aura was changing.
A change that filled Vespasian with sheer terror.
The scene abruptly shifted.
He saw the bridge of the Pride of the Emperor.
The familiar purple and gold color scheme, the familiar ornate decor.
But on the golden spike in the center of the bridge...
Hung a severed head.
The face on that severed head was his own.
Empty eye sockets stared out into the void, a bitter smile still lingering on its lips.
Vespasian tried to scream, but he couldn't make a sound.
The scene warped again.
He saw Tarvitz.
Tarvitz was standing in a sea of flames, gripping a blood-soaked power sword in his hand.
At his feet lay a figure radiating a wicked, heretical aura.
The figure was wearing purple power armor, and the face...
Was Lucius.
That face wore a grotesque, eerie smile, its eyes glowing with a sinister purple light.
Tarvitz's sword was plunged straight into the figure's chest.
The sea of fire raged, thick smoke blotting out the sky.
Tarvitz looked up, turning toward Vespasian.
His eyes were filled with conflict and agony, but his will remained absolute as he charged headlong into the flames.
Vespasian's eyes shot wide open.
He sat up, gasping for air, his forehead drenched in a cold sweat.
The tent was perfectly quiet, bathed only in the soft, cold glow of the floodlight.
He looked down at his hands.
They were trembling slightly.
"A dream..."
He muttered to himself. "It was just a dream..."
But he knew this was no ordinary dream.
It was some kind of warning.
A warning from... an unknown entity.
--
At that exact same moment, inside Tarvitz's tent.
Saul Tarvitz's eyes also snapped wide open.
He had dreamt of a sea of fire.
Amidst the flames, he stood among the corpses of countless Emperor's Children warriors, gripping a dripping power sword.
At his feet lay a figure radiating a wicked, heretical aura.
It was Lucius.
The sea of fire raged around him, thick smoke blotting out the sky.
But just then, the sky lit up..
It was an orbital bombardment.
Tarvitz looked up at the rapidly approaching points of light.
He watched the sky tear itself apart.
And finally, everything faded to black.
Tarvitz gasped for air.
He looked down at his own hands; they were shaking violently.
--
Back in the central tent of the Iron Hands camp.
Paul slowly opened his eyes.
His dark golden pupils glowed faintly in the dark, the five stars slowly rotating before gradually fading away.
His psychic power had already reached the Alpha tier.
It was more than enough to perform a minor psychic projection.
Those two warning dreams had been successfully implanted deep into the consciousness of Vespasian and Tarvitz.
When they woke up, they would think it was just a nightmare they conjured themselves.
But subconsciously, they were now deeply wary of the Blade of the Laer and Fulgrim.
And that was enough.
Paul stood up, walked over to the tent entrance, pushed the flap aside, and gazed out into the deep blue of the night sky.
Paul whispered softly:
"This is my gift to you."
"I hope you can understand the meaning behind it."
"Come to Crimson Dawn."
"This is where you truly belong."
"Only here can your loyalty and unique traits be pushed to their absolute limits."
"Crimson Dawn will stand with you for all eternity."
--
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