The Dal homeworld, Bancal City.
The setting sun dyed the once-glorious alien capital a deep crimson red, reflecting off the green alien blood pooling along the city walls.
Helovia stood by the crenellations at the highest point of the wall, her silver power armor gleaming coldly in the twilight.
The armor was covered in a dense web of scratches and scorch marks—the physical toll of personally leading charges for the last several dozen hours.
Her silver hair fluttered gently in the evening breeze, a few strands brushing across a face that had shed all traces of immaturity.
Her dark green pupils reflected the fires of war still burning within the city, but deep within them lay an icy calm.
Tax Bro leaned against the wall three meters to her right. His Imperial Fists-painted power armor was caked in green alien blood.
He held a block of compressed rations in his hand, taking a bite every now and then, but his eyes remained glued to the battle raging inside the city.
Schrödinger Bro stood to Helovia's left. His dark grey Administrator uniform looked entirely out of place amidst the gunsmoke.
He still hadn't undergone Astartes augmentation. He had a laspistol holstered at his waist and held a data-slate tightly in his hands.
The gazes of all three were locked onto the final combat zone within the city...
The absolute core fortress of Bancal City. It was a colossal structure constructed of black rock, spanning five hundred meters wide and towering hundreds of meters high.
This was the Black Rock Citadel, the second-largest building on the Dal homeworld, currently completely surrounded by the torrential steel flood of Crimson Dawn.
The roar of bolter fire echoed from kilometers away, muffled like distant thunder.
The blinding white beams of meltaguns constantly erupted against the fortress's outer walls, melting massive, gaping holes into the stone.
The grey-uniformed soldiers of the Dawn Defense Force surged through those breaches like a tidal wave. Immediately after, the density of gunfire inside intensified, mixed with the dying shrieks of the Dal aliens.
"Three to five days, tops."
Schrödinger Bro broke the silence first, a profound sense of relief lacing his voice.
"And every last Dal alien will be utterly exterminated."
He paused, looking down at the rapidly shifting numbers on his data-slate.
"We can finally catch our breath."
Tax Bro took a massive bite of his high-energy compressed Astartes rations, mumbling through a mouthful of food:
"If it weren't for the fleet's orbital bombardment support, plus our Psyker Corps rotating in and out, trying to completely annihilate 1.5 billion aliens in such a short amount of time..."
He shook his head, swallowing the food.
"Would've been an absolute nightmare."
Schrödinger Bro nodded. His finger swiped across the data-slate, pulling up a massive inventory list.
"Ammunition consumption was three times our projections, melta fuel consumption was double, and medical supplies were four times what we estimated."
"No wonder they say any true war is a literal bottomless pit for resources."
"Extrapolate this out, and the sheer logistical consumption of the Imperium's Great Crusade across the entire galaxy is unimaginable."
"Thankfully, we brought enough supplies, and the accumulation of twenty years of development on Aurelian IV was massive enough to handle it."
He looked up, gazing at the fires of war still burning within the city.
"Our logistics are holding steady. It looks like we've won this war of civilizations."
Tax Bro flashed a wide grin. "This really pushed the bros to their absolute limits these last few days."
He rolled his shoulders, the servo-motors in his power armor letting out a faint whine.
"Those new players died, respawned, and died again. The average death count is around seventeen or eighteen times per person. A few hardcore guys have died over fifty times and they're still charging in."
"They're leveling up insanely fast. They should all be ready for Astartes augmentation soon."
"The veterans aren't much better off. [Loyal But Broke] got swarmed by Dal heavy units yesterday and his Terminator armor was completely shattered."
"He had to bite the bullet and pay the massive respawn fee to come back."
The corners of Schrödinger Bro's mouth turned up slightly. "I heard replacing that set of Terminator armor cost him 1.2 million Imperial Coins. He was so heartbroken he cursed in the channel for half an hour straight."
Tax Bro burst out laughing. "That kid curses harder than anyone, but he fights harder than anyone too."
They laughed for a moment before Tax Bro suddenly turned his head, looking at the silver silhouette beside him.
"Helovia, you pulled off some absolute miracles these last few days."
His tone carried genuine admiration. "Your synergy with the Crimson Dawn psykers is flawless."
"Funneling all their psychic energy into you actually allowed you to temporarily reach demigod-tier psychic output."
Tax Bro recalled the scene from the day before, still feeling a deep sense of awe.
"Combined with that Magical Girl Transformation Device of yours... raining literal meteors down across the entire battlefield..."
"More than half the Dal defensive lines were instantly neutralized. Those energy shields were like wet tissue paper against a true psychic forbidden spell."
Helovia tilted her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"It's all thanks to the methods Big Brother Paul taught me."
Her voice was soft. "He said a psyker's true power doesn't lie in how much energy they can draw upon, but rather how they apply that energy."
"Instead of scattering the power into countless tiny attacks, it's far better to condense it and deliver a single, lethal strike at the most critical moment."
Tax Bro nodded. "Paul... he really knows how to teach people."
Just then, the smile on Helovia's face slowly faded.
She turned her head, her dark green eyes gazing up at the sky, up at the darkening sea of stars.
"I wonder how Big Brother Paul's trip..."
Her voice grew even softer, carrying an unconcealable trace of worry. "...Is going."
"Were they successful?"
Tax Bro and Schrödinger Bro exchanged a look.
Their eyes met in the air for a fraction of a second, both catching the complex emotions lingering in the other's gaze.
They already knew the outcome.
Just yesterday, a few players who had followed Paul to Laeran logged off and contacted Tax Bro in the real world.
The message was short: Failed. Fulgrim still got the sword.
Tax Bro had remained silent for a long time after reading it.
But he didn't say a word about it in-game. He simply forwarded the message to Schrödinger Bro and Blood Angel.
Now, Helovia was asking about it.
Schrödinger Bro took a deep breath, his signature steady smile returning to his face.
"Don't worry, everything is fine."
His voice was calm, carrying a deeply reassuring weight.
"They're already on their way back to Dal."
"Even though they didn't accomplish what they set out to do, everyone is safe."
He paused, his gaze drifting over the city walls toward the burning ruins within.
"Besides..."
A deeply meaningful smile laced Schrödinger Bro's voice.
"The discovery we made here on Dal is massive enough on its own."
Tax Bro seamlessly picked up the thread, his tone thick with barely suppressed excitement.
"The energy crystal veins on this planet are practically a second heart for Crimson Dawn."
He pointed down at the ground beneath their feet. "As long as we wipe out the Dal and terraform this planet into our second home..."
"We can move all the stuff that's too inconvenient to show off on Aurelian IV right here."
Tax Bro and Schrödinger Bro exchanged another look, neither saying anything more.
But they both knew there was one other massive detail left unsaid...
Once the Dal aliens were utterly exterminated, their faction quest for this campaign would hit 100% completion.
Everyone was practically salivating over whatever massive reward the System was going to drop.
Helovia listened quietly to the two of them, the worry in her dark green eyes slowly dissipating.
She turned around, her gaze sweeping over the active battlefield within the city, over the grey silhouettes charging through the enemy lines, and over the muzzle flashes of bolters flickering amidst the ruins.
"Crimson Dawn is my home," she said softly, yet with absolute conviction. "If Crimson Dawn becomes better, Aurelian IV will become better. We, the citizens of Aurelian, and eventually the citizens of Dal... will all have better lives. Schrödinger Bro, Tax Bro, you don't need to worry."
Helovia turned her head and looked at the two of them. In her eyes burned a light that both Tax Bro and Schrödinger Bro found incredibly familiar...
It was the exact same light that had surfaced in the eyes of the very first batch of miners on the Redblaze Wasteland after listening to Paul's speech.
"I will help Crimson Dawn with everything I have. I will use the convictions of Crimson Dawn to lead more Imperial citizens to stand back up on their own two feet. To regain their dignity. To use our own hands..." Her voice echoed in the evening breeze, carrying a maturity and resolve that far exceeded her age. "...to fight for a truly perfect future for humanity."
Tax Bro looked at her and suddenly felt a prickle of heat behind his eyes.
Schrödinger Bro remained silent, merely giving a slight nod.
Right at that moment, a voice rang out from behind them.
"Well said!"
The three of them turned around simultaneously.
[Blood Angels' Second Emperor] was walking up the steps of the city wall, clad in a crimson uniform. This key figure, who had always been in charge of Crimson Dawn's ideological work, was also completely unaugmented.
He walked up to Helovia, looking her up and down a few times, an unconcealed look of pride on his face. "Little Helovia, I didn't expect you to learn my material so thoroughly."
Helovia froze for a moment before a brilliant smile blossomed on her face.
That smile instantly softened her usually aloof features, making her look just like that little girl Paul had rescued on the Redblaze Wasteland all those years ago.
She offered a sweet smile. "Of course, I learned it all from you, Big Brother Blood Angel. When I was eleven, out there on that wasteland in the Crimson Dawn base... the very first time you preached Crimson Dawn's ideals to the miners, I engraved every single word you said into my heart. And every time you gave a speech to the Aurelian Youth League after that, I was there."
Blood Angel looked at her, the pride on his face deepening.
He reached out, wanting to ruffle her hair just like he used to, only to realize that Helovia was now almost as tall as he was.
His hand paused in mid-air, ultimately settling for a gentle pat on her shoulder.
"No wonder," he said, his voice laced with emotion. "No wonder Roger, Luca, and Adela charge into battle like they don't even care if they live or die. So they were influenced by you."
Helovia smiled, offering no denial.
Blood Angel withdrew his hand, the smile on his face slowly fading, replaced by a heavy seriousness.
He looked at Tax Bro and Schrödinger Bro, then back at Helovia.
"Paul is about to return," he said, his voice calm, yet it caused the expressions of the other three to turn grave instantly. "The mission to stop Fulgrim's corruption has failed. So, we need to speed up our operations."
He pointed toward the active combat zone within the city.
"First, rapidly exterminate these Dal. Second, the re-education campaign for the rescued humans across the entire planet must be launched immediately. We need them to quickly accept Crimson Dawn's leadership."
Blood Angel paused for a moment before continuing.
"After that, we need to make a trip back to Aurelian. We'll bring a portion of the human population here back with us to undergo systematic education. Then, we'll mobilize a portion of Aurelian citizens from various industries to come here and fill the population gap."
He held out his hand, counting them off one by one.
"Mining facilities, supporting industrial chains, factories, food production infrastructure... Our time is running out. This next phase will be Crimson Dawn's period of rapid development. Our enemies will also begin to develop at a breakneck pace. The resources on this planet must be rapidly converted into our combat power. It's the only way we'll be able to handle the challenges to come."
Tax Bro, Schrödinger Bro, and Helovia all straightened their postures simultaneously.
"Understood."
They all knew these weren't just Blood Angel's own thoughts.
These were Paul's orders, relayed to them through Blood Angel.
Blood Angel nodded and spoke again.
"Word just came in from Cogboy. Due to the disappearance of the Warp storms, Guilliman and Sanguinius will be descending upon Aurelian IV again very soon."
Tax Bro's brow furrowed sharply. "That fast?"
Schrödinger Bro's expression also turned grave. "Then all those things on Aurelian IV that aren't suitable for display..."
Blood Angel nodded. "They must all be relocated to Dal before they arrive. Although we don't plan on hiding in the shadows like before, it is still not the right time to fully expose ourselves. We must possess a force powerful enough to withstand multiple Primarchs and their Legions... before we can openly and proudly fly the banner of Crimson Dawn."
Hearing this, the expressions of all three grew incredibly heavy.
Tax Bro's fists clenched tight.
Schrödinger Bro's fingers danced rapidly across his data-slate, already calculating the time and resources required for the massive relocation.
Deep within Helovia's pupils, that dark green light flickered faintly.
She nodded. "I understand."
Without another word, she pulled a communicator from her waist and pressed a specific channel button.
The communicator hissed with static before three nearly instantaneous replies crackled through.
"Roger, here."
"Rull, here."
"Luca, here."
The three voices carried the distinct hoarseness and exhaustion of the battlefield, but every single word was crisp and forceful.
Helovia's voice was ice-cold, like a blade drawn in the dead of winter.
"I am giving you one and a half days to completely exterminate every last Dal in this city. I need a one hundred percent extermination rate. If even a single one slips through, you will automatically resign your commissions and hand command over to your alternates."
The other end of the communicator fell silent for a full second.
And then, the three voices roared in unison, making the communicator vibrate in her hand.
"Dawn Guard First, Third, and Fifth Regiments, Dawn Guard Battalion... Orders received, Commander Helovia! We guarantee mission completion! Glory to Crimson Dawn! Glory to the Aurelian Youth League!"
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