Zeke Mason collected every component from the surrounding cabinets, regardless of whether he had an immediate use for them.
While scavenging, he noticed a name repeatedly appearing on the labels: St. Josmane's Hope.
This was a Prison World, housing many of the most heinous criminals.
The inmates' hard labor involved manufacturing components—cheap and of high quality—which were then exported to many surrounding planets.
Zeke walked out of the maintenance tunnel. He had spent too much time thinking inside; by now, the Leviathan Command Vehicle had already been secured by Cadian soldiers.
Zeke saw that the traitor commander had been captured and was being escorted away by a few soldiers to an unknown destination.
As he headed up the stairs, he passed a steady stream of soldiers transporting supplies out of the Leviathan.
Zeke glanced at the crates—mostly weapons and the specific ammunition the Leviathan required.
By the time he reached the upper level, it was nearly stripped bare.
Zeke continued up the stairs to the Leviathan's top deck. Outside, the artillery fire was gradually ceasing.
With the Leviathan—the hardest nut to crack—broken, the remaining Volscani traitors were a spent force.
In Zeke's vision, the "Raid" progress bar was also on the verge of clearing.
Looking out from his high vantage point, Tyrok Bastion appeared exceptionally desolate under the afterglow of the setting sun.
"Citizens of Cadia, the Leviathan Command Vehicle has been completely captured by our brave warriors!!"
"Citizens of Cadia, the remaining traitors have been compressed into their final strongholds; they have nowhere to run!"
"Citizens of Cadia..."
Zeke listened to the battle updates on the radio with a sense of boredom.
He noticed that Castellan Creed really liked starting his speeches with "Citizens of Cadia."
After the impassioned speech came a melodious string piece—a radio program known as The Flower of Cadia.
Life was gradually returning to the alleyways. People were being rescued from cellars by the soldiers.
They had hidden underground, lucky enough to evade the traitors, though the majority had unfortunately slept forever.
Walking through the alleys, some looked bewildered, but most just felt a sense of rejoicing—rejoicing that they had survived.
Zeke performed a water bucket clutch to jump down from the Leviathan. He needed to find Sergeant Victor to claim his supplies.
Next, he had to hurry up and "develop." The traitor attack was merely Abaddon's first wave; what followed would only be more violent.
He didn't notice that from inside a room with a door left ajar, two cold gazes were watching through the crack, firmly locked onto his retreating figure.
The room was dim, lit only by an emergency light that silhouetted two forms.
"That is him. You are certain?" Her gaze was pinned on Zeke.
"Yes, Lord Inquisitor."
The assistant beside her took out a photograph and presented it with both hands.
In the photo, Zeke was crouching next to a wounded soldier, holding a cup of beast milk and feeding him.
"Preliminary observation records indicate the target appears to possess the ability to dispel negative status effects."
"A disguise trick of the Plague God?"
The Inquisitor's voice in the shadows grew even colder. She took the photo, her fingertips nearly crushing it.
The assistant swallowed hard and took a second photo from the bag.
It showed Zeke communicating with Fire-Anvil, holding the Tinkers' Manual.
"And this, my Lord. We suspect he possesses the ability of knowledge inheritance, capable of granting others unconventional crafting techniques."
"What!" The Inquisitor's voice rose a pitch. "The corruption of the Changer of Ways has infiltrated as well!"
"What else? Bring it all out at once."
The assistant, sweating at the temples, dared not delay and produced a third photo.
This one was clearly a battlefield snapshot; the image was blurry and shaky, showing Zeke charging with a sword amidst a hail of gunfire.
"His individual combat capabilities are very strong. Despite wearing seemingly crude equipment, he possesses extremely high defensive resilience."
"Even more eerie is that after being injured, he only needs to ingest ordinary food to rapidly recover his state. It is as if some primitive thirst for blood and battle is being satisfied."
"The Blood God!" The Inquisitor could no longer sit still. Smack! The tabletop before her caved in under her palm strike.
The assistant's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. "There... there is also this one..."
The final photo was handed over.
It showed Zeke sitting in a circle with Dance, smiles on both their faces, the atmosphere harmonious.
"He seems to easily gain the goodwill and trust of others."
"Those he has helped generally rate him extremely highly, even harboring an unusual sense of closeness. This kind of... heart-bewitching charisma..."
"Ha!" The Inquisitor let out a short, cold laugh. "Even the Prince of Pleasure is involved."
"Heretic. A heretic through and through."
She could no longer suppress herself; part of her robe slipped down, revealing the weapon at her waist.
She slammed her palm down again, and the already overburdened table, along with the scattered photos, collapsed into a heap.
"I can already smell the filthy stench of the Warp radiating from him," the Inquisitor's voice echoed through the room.
"As an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus, seeing such filth walking safely on the soil of Cadia... what a disgrace!"
"Calm down, Lord Inquisitor, please calm down." The assistant rushed forward and held the Inquisitor back.
"These observation reports are currently just indirect conjectures and cannot be fully verified."
"Since when does the Inquisition need evidence to act? Suspicion is proof; abnormality is heresy!"
The Inquisitor stated coldly.
The assistant had a flash of wit in his desperation. "If our conjectures are true, then he can only be the Everchosen of the Four Gods. Can you defeat him, my Lord?"
"An Inquisitor never fears sacrifice." The Inquisitor showed no intention of changing her mind.
The assistant continued to persuade her. "The target played a key role in this battle."
"Many Cadian soldiers saw with their own eyes how he helped us. If you move against him now, it will undoubtedly trigger dissatisfaction among the troops."
"Hmph, just a bunch of Cadian soldiers. Do you think I fear them?"
"What about Castellan Creed? Castellan Creed certainly won't allow you to do this."
The Inquisitor fell silent. She looked at the assistant beside her. "Why do you keep speaking for him? Have you been influenced by him as well?"
The assistant shivered in fright, daring not speak another word, only lowering his head to look at the floor.
After a long while, the Inquisitor finally broke the silence. "His name is Zeke Mason, right? He will show his tail sooner or later."
The Inquisitor slowly raised her head. "When that time comes..."
She placed her right hand on the hilt of the sword at her waist. "I, the Chief Inquisition Investigator of the Cadian Gate, shall personally judge him."