In orbit, the bridge of the Dawn's Resolve fell into a momentary, stunned silence.
The thirty-year-old Captain, Cassian Behe, stood before the command console, staring at the holographic screen as the flagship slowly approached.
This young man, who had climbed his way up from the underhives of Aurelian.
Wearing the dark grey uniform of a fleet officer, the Crimson Dawn emblem on his chest polished to a mirror shine.
Right now, an unconcealable, burning excitement raged in his eyes.
"It's the Light of Dawn! Archmagos Paul has returned!"
Behind him, the Aurelian crew members were equally thrilled.
A few seconds later.
The chime of an incoming comms request echoed across the bridge.
Cassian sharply snapped back to reality. His fingers danced rapidly across the holographic console, moving so fast he didn't even notice they were trembling.
The ship-to-ship comms channel connected.
A golden silhouette, standing a towering 3.88 meters tall, appeared on the main screen.
Aquilon Terminator armor. The Imperial Aquila relief on the pauldron looked incredibly lifelike, and faint energy lines pulsed across the surface of the breastplate.
The sharp, chiseled face wore no helmet, and those dark golden pupils stared at them straight through the screen.
In exactly 0.3 seconds, Cassian's right fist slammed into his left breastplate. The heavy thud of metal impacting metal rang out across the bridge.
"Captain of the Dawn's Resolve, Cassian Behe, reporting to Archmagos Paul!"
Behind him, all forty-seven Aurelian crew members on the bridge stood up simultaneously, their right fists striking their chests in perfect, synchronized unison.
Those young faces were illuminated by a brilliant light, a mix of absolute fanaticism and deepest reverence.
Forty-seven voices merged into a single, unified roar.
Paul gave a slight nod.
The motion was subtle, but in Cassian's eyes, it was as if he had just received the approval of the entire galaxy.
"Report."
Paul's voice came through the comms, calm and gentle. "Did anything unexpected happen while I was away?"
Cassian raised his head. That young face was flushed with unconcealable excitement, yet his voice remained exceptionally calm and steady:
"Reporting to the Archmagos: No unexpected incidents occurred!"
His rate of speech unconsciously quickened.
"Commander Helovia, Commander Schrödinger, and Commander Tax launched a general offensive against the Dal civilization over the last forty-eight hours."
"Just one hour ago, the final fortress of Bancal City, the Black Rock Citadel, was completely breached!"
"The final resistance forces of the Dal have been utterly annihilated!"
"We are currently sweeping the area and purging any remaining hidden xenos."
Cassian's voice trembled slightly with a pride he couldn't hold back.
"The Dal campaign... we are victorious!"
When he spoke those final four words, his pitch rose slightly.
The corners of Paul's mouth turned up.
"Oh?" A trace of a smile laced his voice. "Then you guys really did a fantastic job!"
Hearing this, Cassian froze completely.
Archmagos Paul had praised them.
Archmagos Paul had personally told them they did a fantastic job.
He opened his mouth, unable to suppress the surging waves of emotion in his heart.
It was the pure joy of a boy who had climbed from being the son of an underhive miner, struggling to survive the pollution every single day, to becoming a captain of the Dawn's Resolve in the Dawn Navy... and now receiving personal praise from the very Archmagos who had given them this new life.
A slight flush crept onto Cassian's young face, but his words remained steady. "All the credit belongs to Crimson Dawn and Commander Helovia. We merely executed the most basic of tasks."
Paul nodded, a glint of approval flashing in his eyes. "Patch me through to Helovia. I'll be touching down on Dal momentarily."
"Understood!" Cassian slammed his right fist against his chest once more, only slowly lowering it after the golden silhouette disappeared from the screen.
The very instant the comms link closed, deafening cheers erupted across the bridge of the Dawn's Resolve.
Cassian spun around and threw his arm around his Executive Officer, Lucena, whose face was equally flushed with excitement. His voice trembled. "Lucena! Did you hear that?! Archmagos Paul said we did a fantastic job!!"
Lucena was being choked so hard he could barely breathe, but his exasperation couldn't hide his wide grin. "I heard, I heard! You're the best, you crazy kid..."
But his eyes were slightly red.
Cassian let go of Lucena, standing in the center of the bridge with his hands on his hips. He stared out the viewport at the azure planet, muttering to himself, "Archmagos Paul is back... He praised me..."
Lucena walked up beside him, gazing out the window as well.
"Yeah," his voice was soft. "For us kids who crawled out of the underhives, the Archmagos isn't just a leader. He's our Guardian. He's the one who gave us food when we were starving to death. The one who gave us hope when we were drowning in despair."
Cassian fell silent for a few seconds.
Then, he turned to Lucena with a wide grin. "So we have to keep working hard. We can't let the Archmagos down."
--
The message traveled from orbit to the surface of Dal in mere seconds.
Helovia stood on the top level of the Black Rock Citadel. When she heard the voice crackling through her communicator, her face—which had remained completely ice-cold through dozens of hours of combat—instantly blossomed into a brilliant smile.
That smile made her look just like that eleven-year-old girl Paul had plucked from the ranks of miners on the Redblaze Wasteland all those years ago.
She didn't say a word.
She simply turned around, her silver power armor trailing a streak of light in the setting sun as she sprinted toward the largest plaza in Bancal City.
Tax Bro, Schrödinger Bro, White Scars, and Blood Angel followed closely behind.
Then came [I'm Not the Regent I'm Just Passing By Guilliman], [Execute Old Man the War Criminal], [Father Nurgle Loves All Living Creatures]...
Followed by over two thousand Astartes players, sixteen thousand new players, and hundreds of thousands of Dawn Defense Force soldiers.
Along the edges of the plaza, dense ranks of Dawn Defense Force soldiers formed up in immaculate phalanxes.
Their grey uniforms, the Crimson Dawn emblems on their chests, and the lasguns in their hands reflected a solemn, dignified light in the setting sun.
General Roger Theodore stood at the very front of the formation, his weather-beaten face completely serious.
General Rull Ackerman stood beside him, his back equally straight.
Luca Knox led the 2,500 elites of the Dawn Guard Battalion, clad in their signature crimson-silver power armor, forming a protective perimeter along the eastern side of the plaza.
His eyes were glued to the horizon, waiting for those silhouettes to appear.
By the time several Thunderhawk gunships appeared in the sky, the plaza was already packed with people.
A dense sea of humanity stretched as far as the eye could see.
There were no cheers, no chaotic noise.
Only countless pairs of eyes staring at the rapidly approaching aircraft.
The Thunderhawks slowly descended, kicking up a cloud of dust the moment their landing gear touched the ground.
The assault ramps lowered.
Paul stepped out.
His towering 3.88-meter golden frame gleamed with a dark golden luster in the evening light. He wasn't wearing his helmet, and a faint smile rested on his chiseled face.
[Have You Been Loyal Today?] followed right behind him, then [Selling Flatbreads at the Terra Palace Gates], [Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates], [Dragon Bro Never Yields]...
Dozens of figures filed out from the five Thunderhawks.
Paul's gaze swept over the crowd, landing on the silver silhouette standing at the very front.
Helovia stood there, her long silver hair fluttering gently in the evening breeze, her dark green eyes looking right back at him.
After being baptized by this war, a cold, hardened aura clung to the young girl.
It was an aura that could only belong to someone who had waded through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, someone who had personally ordered the deaths of hundreds of thousands of enemies.
But right now, the light in those eyes was no different from the night Paul first met her and her mother twenty-four years ago in the freezing cold.
Paul walked over and stopped in front of her.
He didn't speak. He simply reached out and gently pressed his hand onto the top of her head.
It was a habitual gesture that hadn't changed once in twenty-four years.
Helovia's eyes grew slightly red.
But she didn't cry. She just looked up, flashing a radiant smile.
Paul turned around, looking at all the familiar faces.
Tax Bro, Schrödinger Bro, White Scars, Blood Angel, [I'm Not the Regent I'm Just Passing By Guilliman], [Execute Old Man the War Criminal], [Father Nurgle Loves All Living Creatures], [Have You Been Loyal Today?]...
And further out, that dense sea of grey uniforms.
The soldiers of the Dawn Defense Force, the humans who had just been rescued from the Dal, the people whose eyes burned with a newly rekindled light.
Paul slowly opened his mouth.
His voice wasn't loud, but it reached every single person with crystal clarity.
"Brothers." He paused, his gaze sweeping over every face. "I'm back."
--
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