Time: 011.M42 Coordinates: Imperium Nihilus Northern Edge · Designated Anchor Point

  Absolution's Fury was not in a combat state.

  It was anchored in a deep space region with stable gravity. The Blood Angels fleet maintained a defensive formation, fnk cruisers and frigates forming yers of protection, but engine output was lowered to minimum, weapon systems locked on no targets.

  This was not a retreat.

  This was waiting.

  When Dante received the highest priority contact from Lion El'Jonson, the other party gave no situation briefing, nor extra expnation.

  Only three lines of orders:

  Proceed immediately to Northern Edge coordinates. Anchor. Do not actively engage.

  Dante did not hesitate.

  He knew what that name represented.

  At this moment, inside the magnificent Gothic bridge of Absolution's Fury, the scent of incense and sacred oil permeated between metal and stone carvings, the statue of Sanguinius overlooking the hall quietly.

  Then, the scent changed.

  A fresh scent of pine quietly infiltrated the bridge, carrying the fragrance of moist earth. The air seemed to become soft, a breeze blew non-existent leaves, rustling sounds repcing the engine hum.

  The void outside the observation window shifted at a certain angle.

  The forest did not descend abruptly.

  It simply chose to open here.

  Lion El'Jonson stepped out from the forest shadows.

  No teleportation beam, no Warp tear.

  He simply walked out.

  The bck and gold armor looked heavy and restrained under the bridge lights. The Astartes sons on the bridge instinctively felt their bloodlines tremble, almost kneeling.

  Dante stepped forward.

  "My Lord."

  "Luis."

  The Lion calmly called his name.

  The forest closed behind him, the air returning to normal.

  The Lion offered no pleasantries.

  He walked to the central strategium table; the three-dimensional yout of the Blood Angels fleet unfolded.

  His finger nded on the fnk formation.

  Three Strike Cruisers were highlighted.

  Spear of Baal. Edge of Red Tears. Sanguinius's Mercy.

  "Disengage shields. Stop engines. Complete silence."

  Dante’s brows tightened slightly.

  "That is the fnk guard. If—"

  "They are no longer guards."

  The Lion interrupted him.

  "They are components."

  Silence.

  Dante did not understand the meaning of this word. But he understood another thing—this was not a temporary judgment.

  This was an order after calcution completion.

  "...As you command."

  Orders went out.

  Three cruisers sequentially shut down void shields, main engines cut off, power dropped to minimum. The Blood Angels fleet formation showed a gap during fine-tuning.

  Dante looked at the Lion.

  "What comes next?"

  The Lion turned.

  Forest shadows surfaced again at the void's edge.

  "Next, you will understand."

  He disappeared.

  Reconstruction Zone · XVIII-N-01

  Deeper in Imperium Nihilus.

  The lead-grey fleet had completed docking preparations long ago.

  Three geometric structures unfolded in the void, deep blue veins lighting up progressively, space curvature forcibly straightened.

  This was not a jump. This was grabbing.

  The mass curves of three Strike Cruisers were locked.

  The next instant—

  They vanished from their original positions.

  No fsh. No energy burst. Just plucked.

  When they reappeared, they were locked inside lead-grey structures. Keels groaned low under extreme stress, armor ptes twisted then stabilized again.

  Data stream refreshed.

  Target capture confirmed. Structural integrity 83%. Dispcement error 0.000.

  Three Blood Angels warships now became nodes of a giant array.

  Far away, on the bridge of Invincible Reason.

  Lion El'Jonson quietly watched the completed docking.

  "Welcome to the battlefield, Luis."

  "Here, the ws of physics make the rules."