"Aunt Luna..." he whispered to himself. "That Chaos Sorcerer was Luna!"
"What was that?" the NCO didn't catch what he said.
Leo didn't explain and continued his train of thought. Two years ago, his father died in battle. Having idolized his father since childhood, Leo hadn't questioned it much at the time.
But later, he discovered many inconsistencies. The details of that campaign were suppressed, and every surviving soldier was executed. The official narrative was that Alistair had made the ultimate sacrifice, dying a glorious death for the Imperium. But it was too strange—if it was a "glorious sacrifice," why the total information blackout?
Suspicion had taken root. Leo had spent two years piecing together clues, bit by bit. Even though he only had leads, he eventually reached a conclusion that chilled him to the bone.
His father hadn't died in battle—or rather, he hadn't died as a human of the Imperium. Therefore, his grandfather had suppressed the news and executed all witnesses, maintaining the "heroic sacrifice" facade to the outside world. From that point on, his grandfather became increasingly stubborn and silent, locking all secrets deep within his heart.
And Aunt Luna, after that incident, became increasingly obsessed with the STC. While investigating his father's death, Leo had stumbled upon information regarding that particular STC. It seemed to possess a certain dark charisma, a power that made anyone in long-term contact with it fall into a state of fanatical devotion.
Once, he had accidentally overheard his grandfather and Luna arguing. Luna demanded they dedicate everything to researching the STC to empower the family with its knowledge and tech. His grandfather flatly refused, stating that the artifact was too dangerous and that research must not delve too deep. Luna had said something then that he remembered to this day:
"You understand nothing! That STC can do everything!"
"Doing everything" was not something a sane person would say. At the time, Leo felt as though his aunt's mind had been subverted by the STC.
Leo continued to piece it together. Uncle Callum, the Lord of Internal Affairs, was close to the nobility. He could incite the Noble Council to mutiny, spread rumors, and create chaos. But he couldn't command the Knight suits or the Knight Auxiliaries.
Aunt Luna, the Technical Lord, was the permanent liaison with the Mechanicus. She was close to them, had access to the STC, and studied forbidden knowledge. Furthermore, she could control a portion of the Knights.
Leo adjusted an imaginary pair of glasses: "There is only one truth!"
Callum had orchestrated the trap for the Governor, wanting to hoard all the glory to earn the favor of a Chaos God. Luna discovered his plan and brought Tzeentchian daemons to crash the party—not to save the Governor, but to steal the prey.
The Noble Council's mutiny was incited by Callum. He thought this would create enough chaos to keep the Governor occupied. However, since Callum couldn't control the family's primary military forces, the Noble Council didn't dare to go all-out initially. This was why, earlier, despite Callum coming out to back them, Raynor had faced no real resistance when he pushed back even harder.
But after Luna manipulated the rebellion of the Knights and the Auxiliaries, everything changed. The Noble Council saw the main forces of House Saint Gallus entering the fray; only then did they dare to risk everything, igniting the civil war at the Forbidden Wall.
Two individuals with different plans and motives, even worshipping two different Chaos Gods. Yet, by a twist of fate, their schemes complemented each other, triggering this chaos that swept across all of Brevis.
"Dammit," Leo muttered, feeling irritable as the picture became clear. He leaned back against the cold wall and closed his eyes. His mind was still spinning, still piecing together fragments. But one thing was certain: this civil war was far from over.
Day Five.
Leo no longer remembered how long he had been in this cell. There were no windows and no sunlight, only four walls that seemed to be closing in. He sat on the stone cot, back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. His posture was exactly the same as it had been five days ago.
The soldier bringing food came three times a day. Leo maintained normal physiological functions. But beyond that, he did nothing. He didn't speak, and he tried not to think. Having an empty head was actually quite nice; at least it didn't hurt.
Footsteps echoed outside. Leo didn't look up, assuming it was lunch. The small viewing slit on the iron door opened—not the food slot, but the one used to observe prisoners.
"Lord Leo," a voice came. It was the young NCO who had been guarding him these past few days. "There's good news."
Leo didn't move. Good news? What good news could there be? He didn't want to know anything.
"Two big figures have arrived from the Hive," the officer said excitedly. "They're asking for you!"
Leo's eyelids flickered. Big figures? Asking for him?
"Who?" he asked, his voice sounding hollow and dejected.
The officer was pleasantly surprised; this was only the second time Leo had spoken in five days. "Uh... I think one of them is a Lord named Guss."
"The Governor's adjutant. He's quite young. I heard he's very handsome."
Guss?!
Light finally returned to Leo's eyes. Guss was here! Guss was Raynor's adjutant, one of the people Raynor trusted most. He represented Raynor's authority, which meant the Governor hadn't abandoned him.
But immediately after, another emotion surged up: worry. He knew Guss represented Raynor's stance, but would Raynor truly trust him? They had fought side-by-side on the Wall, in the ice fields, and through those difficult years. They had shared the glory of victory and toasted together.
But his actual contact with Raynor wasn't that frequent. Raynor was the Governor, the commander, the Emperor's Chosen. Leo was merely the "Young Master" of Saint Gallus and the second-in-command of the Vanguard. Their interactions were limited to battlefields and meetings. Even Hammond could only watch from the sidelines and lock him up to wait for news.
What about Raynor? He needed to consider the big picture; would he really take a risk for him? Leo's heart hung in suspense.
The iron door opened.
Long-absent sunlight pierced into the cell, blinding Leo. He shielded his eyes, adjusted for a few seconds, then slowly stood up and walked out. The sunlight hit him, warm and inviting—a stark contrast to the damp cold of the cell.
Then, he saw the people outside. It was a sea of black—people everywhere. The officers and soldiers of the Vanguard filled the entire open space. They wore their uniforms, gripped their weapons, and stood in perfect formation. No one spoke; only the sound of the wind snapping against the banners broke the silence.
For a moment, Leo was dazed. He had stood before such ranks countless times, reviewing troops and boosting morale. Back then, he would feel pride and a surge of passion, believing everything he did was worth it.
But now, he felt only shame. He kept his head low, not daring to look them in the eye. They had once followed his charge, killed enemies alongside him, and even entrusted their lives to him. And him? Now he was an imprisoned suspect, a traitor disowned by his family, a pathetic soul needing someone else to prove his innocence. Five days was enough for a lion to lower its proud head.
The crowd parted automatically, creating a path. At the end of the path stood several people: Guss, Hammond, and a few other generals he recognized. They stopped five meters away and looked at him.
Leo's heart sank a little further. But Guss only hesitated for a heartbeat before moving forward again. He walked straight ahead, crossing those five meters, until he stood directly in front of Leo.
He didn't stop, nor did he show any of the wariness the others had. He simply walked right up to Leo and stood there. Leo's breath hitched.
Guss looked at him, said nothing, but reached out and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."