Chapter 101: A Person Who Dies is Like a Book Suddenly Burned
Ramesses remarked with feeling, and the junior Inquisitor beside him quickly jotted it down. She didn't know if she herself was worthy of that quote, but these people, the ones who had struggled and clawed their way out from between the jaws of life and death, those who had sacrificed and those who had survived—they were worthy.
The sacrifice was worth it. These cheering people should not have survived. They should have died in a horrific Chaos ritual, died in the hunt of the Tyranid Hive Fleet. The very memory of this planet should have been erased, and everything that represented humanity upon it would have ceased to exist.
And now, they had broken the shackles of fate, shattered a pre-ordained tragedy, and had truly, in a single campaign, reversed the food chain between man and daemon.
Even if it was just one small victory.
Facing the sun, the transmigrators could feel countless gazes fixed upon them.
One step at a time, they thought. Let those so-called enemies become the firewood that illuminates the path of humanity's future.
The transmigrators looked at the cheering crowd and suddenly fell silent. They suddenly realized what they needed to do. They still had to learn, had to become stronger, had to unite more people. Otherwise, even if the Imperium handed them the reins of power, they wouldn't know how to govern.
Then, they would pull the so-called gods from their thrones, and make the high and mighty will bow its head. Only then would the people have a chance to seek the truth.
Arthur slowly raised his sword, its tip pointing to the heavens.
Karna raised his spear, its blood-stained head reflecting the light of the sun.
"Victory!"
The sound echoed through the plaza. As the ceremonial cannons fired, the world fell silent for an instant, and then a response like a tidal wave crashed back.
"Victory! Victory!"
The sound, like rolling waves, came from all around. Everyone raised their heads, as if to push this sound to the entire hive city, to the entire planet, to the galaxy.
Changing history was never something a far-sighted "transmigrator" could fix with a few words. Every step forward was built upon the continuous sacrifice of countless people, forged from endless blood.
In this moment, every one of them was their own hero.
A soothing prayer played through the vox-system. The air was filled with the calming scent of incense.
"Haaaah, that was satisfying!"
The four of them walked through the still-clean corridors. Ramesses admired the murals with great interest, then let out a long sigh. Perhaps Romulus and Karna, having fought so brutally on the front lines, didn't feel it as much. But for him and Arthur, leading the Nemesis Chapter and the Sisters to absolutely demolish the daemons in the Warp... that had been incredibly satisfying. And to look back after the battle was over and see so many people still alive, with his friends still by his side—that feeling was truly amazing.
"Try some," Karna said, sliding a plate over. It was filled with blueberries and already-sliced passion fruit and oranges.
"This isn't a Nurgling this time, is it?" Ramesses asked.
"Not a chance. This is from a proper Hive Fleet node-creature," Karna replied with a grin.
"You can convert psychic power from killing Tyranids?" Ramesses asked with surprise as he chewed on a blueberry. He remembered it had worked when he was burning Genestealer-infected cultists.
"Node-creatures, yes. And the higher the tier of the node, the more you get," Romulus explained, also spearing a piece of passion fruit with his fork and popping it into his mouth. "We're still not sure if we can directly kill the Hive Mind of a splinter fleet." A Norn Queen, the core of a fleet, had been caught in the crossfire of two Gloriana-class battleships and had been turned into space junk along with its Hive Ship. Otherwise, they could have tested whether the transmigrators could directly erase a splinter-consciousness. But none of them were bored enough to give up their current combat power to try a boarding action. The risks of space-boarding were still too high.
"We can discuss that in the meeting. It's not like we'll be short on wars in the future," Ramesses replied.
"Now that you say that, I feel even more despair," Romulus said, covering his forehead with both hands, a worried look on his face. He really wanted to find a piece of land and do some proper farming, at least to raise a fleet before going out to stir up trouble! But time did not permit it. This was a busy period.
"Hey, Arthur, it's just the four of us here. Why are you so quiet?" Having silenced Romulus, Ramesses turned his attention to Arthur.
"No reason. I've just been saying a lot of strange things recently. I need to organize my vocabulary, reconstruct my language system," Arthur said, making a rare joke and pointing to his own head.
"Sigh, it's only at times like these that I feel like the friend standing next to me is still the same old friend," Ramesses, who was walking in front, remarked. He then dispelled his psychic shield and pushed open the great doors before them.
"My Lords!"
The people who had been waiting in the council chamber all rose to their feet. They were the representatives of the various human factions in this star system. The people, with sufficient supplies, could still enjoy the celebration, the joy of victory. But they, who carried the weight of countless lives on their shoulders, had to begin planning for the future.
Romulus was the first to look at the mortals on his right. The positions of the Bishop and the Astra Militarum leader had changed. The Bishop had diligently assisted Romulus with logistical mobilization, but his mortal body had finally given out after months of sleepless labor, and he had collapsed at his post. Colonel Kovek of the "Broken Swords," in order to complete his assault command, had dragged his wounded body to lead his troops and had been decapitated by a Lictor.
And this time, there was no Space Marine to save him.
Romulus was silent. He had memorized every soldier's dog-tag, had spoken with the Bishop countless times, yet now he didn't even know their first names. Kovek was the first person he had met after arriving in this world, and now he was dead because of his command. Aside from his professional competence in war, he didn't even know what kind of person Colonel Kovek was. Aside from his ability to mobilize the populace, he had no familiar sense of the Bishop himself.
His calm gaze then shifted to the Space Marines on the other side.
The Chaplain who had stood by Orlando's side was gone. Romulus remembered that he had died while trying to rescue two trapped squads, when he had blown a promethium valve and hadn't had time to retreat, and was swallowed by the sea of fire along with the Tyranid swarm.
The second-in-command at Tyberos's side had changed from Akia to Shal. Fortunately, perhaps one day they would still be able to hear the roar of that War-hound from a Carcharodon Dreadnought.
The transmigrators all tried to recall, but mostly, they could only remember what these people had looked like on the battlefield.
The long war seemed to have forged a deep bond between them, but they didn't seem to know much about their stories.
Romulus felt a deep sense of regret. Even though their souls had now returned to the Golden Throne, they were still separated by two worlds.
A person who dies is like a book that is suddenly burned. You never get a chance to finish reading them.
(End of Chapter)