A modest gift?!
Even Malakim’s transhuman brain stalled for a moment.
Leaving aside the question of how Lancelot had carried such a vast quantity of material by himself and placed it all inside the armory, could this equipment really be called a “modest gift”?
“This is…”
Malakim swallowed.
Every piece of equipment before him was fresh from the forge, so flawless that the Adeptus Mechanicus could have enshrined it in a sanctum.
There was almost no deviation between them.
Each one looked as if it had been copied from the same original.
It made him think of a relic from the age of myth: an STC, a Standard Template Construct.
Only something like that could produce such an enormous quantity of equipment in an instant.
As the foolproof interstellar colonization tool of humanity’s Golden Age, the STC system had long since been shattered and lost, but in the present era, the Adeptus Mechanicus all but worshiped STC templates as sacred relics.
If one were to find even a single STC capable of producing a more powerful weapon, handing it over to the Mechanicus could earn the ownership of an entire planet.
And now, what exactly was being displayed before him?
Bullock Pattern Jetbikes, Aquila-pattern Mk VII power armor, boltgun ammunition, medical supplies…
every single item was something the Chapter desperately needed.
If all of these could be forged from a template, then just how precious was that template?
Such a thing was vital to any Legion.
It could even be called the foundation upon which a Legion stood.
Yet something like that was in the hands of a lone Dark Angel?
No.
Even an STC required time to deploy and time to forge.
How had all these things been transported here?
The Warp?
But the Chapter’s Librarians had clearly said that realspace aboard the ship was unusually stable.
Even if one could communicate with the Warp, it should not be possible to use it to influence the material world.
But if the source was the sacred relic on Lancelot’s person…
then it made sense.
The Dark Angels possessed a great many relics from the Dark Age of Technology.
Could these things have been created with one of those relics?
But why would a Dark Angel who possessed such a relic be operating alone?
Lancelot’s martial skill was astonishing, yes, but how could equipment like this possibly be entrusted to a single individual?
“Who exactly are you?”
Chapter Master Malakim felt a wave of dizziness.
The secrets surrounding this Dark Angel were too unreal, too far beyond his understanding.
“Just a Dark Angel passing through.”
Lancelot casually answered along with his question, but when he saw the blank look on Chapter Master Malakim’s face, he decided he still needed to find some justification for his identity.
Lancelot stood with his sword in hand.
After a moment of thought, he spoke directly.
“Ten thousand years ago, when I was on Terra, before the Emperor had yet become the Emperor, I already knew of His great work and His grand vision.
I spoke with Him and with others about humanity’s future.”
“Ten thousand years later, even though the Imperium of Man has decayed to this state, my convictions remain unchanged.”
Lancelot spoke calmly, but the moment those words fell, true terror surfaced on Chapter Master Malakim’s face.
Ten thousand years ago?!
When he was still on Terra?!
Before the Emperor had become the Emperor, this man had already stood beside the God-Emperor and spoken of humanity’s future?
He stared at Lancelot in disbelief.
His pupils trembled.
His mind tightened to its limits as he struggled to keep his expression from collapsing into disgrace.
What did that mean?
Did it mean the elder before him actually had an extraordinary relationship with the Emperor, with humanity’s God-Emperor?
It was…
unbelievable.
Yet from the calm face before him, even with the extraordinary senses of a Space Marine, he could not detect the slightest trace of deception.
Because everything Lancelot had said was true.
It was just that by “ten thousand years ago,” Lancelot probably meant more than thirty thousand years ago.
He had known of the Emperor’s existence back in the second millennium, in the 2K era.
And as for speaking with Him and others about humanity’s future, that naturally meant talking nonsense online with other netizens.
According to the setting of the Warhammer universe, in the 2K era, the Emperor, as a Perpetual, had already existed in this universe since the dawn of humanity.
The Emperor of the 2K era had obviously gone online and surfed the web with everyone else.
So saying that he had discussed humanity’s future with Him and others was completely accurate.
If the gap between 2K and 40K were not so vast, so vast that the people of 40K might already regard those from the 2K era as ancient apes, then perhaps directly telling the man before him, “I’m actually a veteran from the year 2000,” would have been even more shocking.
That thought flashed through Lancelot’s mind.
But when he looked at the Lamenters Chapter Master, whose face was shaken and whose breathing had even stopped, he understood that the effect he wanted had already been achieved beyond expectations.
“You…
you are truly an elder from the Great Crusade era?!”
Only after a long while did Malakim finally accept this earth-shaking information.
He looked at Lancelot, his thoughts surging wildly, yet only this one sentence managed to escape his mouth.
“That is correct.”
Lancelot nodded readily.
Since he had the talent of a ten-thousand-year veteran, and since he had indeed discussed the Great Crusade online before, the next words came easily.
“I also witnessed the deeds of your gene-father, Sanguinius.
I witnessed his heroic bearing as he drove back the daemon Angron.
So there is no need for you to show fear before anyone. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
I can say with certainty that the Lamenters, who bear the blood of Sanguinius, are worthy of every reward and every honor!”
As Lancelot spoke, Malakim felt the two hearts in his chest beating with almost berserk intensity.
He had perhaps guessed that this Dark Angel before him must possess an extremely high status, but he had never imagined that the one standing before him was a veteran from ten thousand years past.
Before the Emperor had yet become the Emperor, Lancelot had already known of His great work.
That meant he had practically witnessed the God-Emperor’s entire journey, from His rise on Terra to His expedition into the stars.
In the age of the Great Crusade, when the Emperor continuously reclaimed the galaxy and recovered His sons, this man had even lived through the final rebellion of Horus.
He had even personally seen Sanguinius drive back Angron?!
An elder of this level was almost unheard of in Malakim’s understanding.
At present, the oldest Dreadnought of the Blood Angels was only around eight thousand years old.
The only one he had heard of was a ten-thousand-year-old Dreadnought among the Space Wolves who still survived.
Such elders spent most of their time in slumber.
Yet now, the Dark Angels elder before him still walked the world?
“There is no need to be so surprised.
The Warp has no concept of time.
A Warp storm carried me into this age.
But there is one thing that will never change: the promise between the Emperor and me.”
Sword in hand, Lancelot looked at Chapter Master Malakim, whose mouth hung open wide enough to fit a goose egg.
His gaze and expression grew solemn.
“That year, I looked upon the Emperor as He sat broken upon the Golden Throne.
I will never forget that sight for as long as I live.
At that moment, I thought to myself that if I ever had the chance to fight for humanity, I would win everything.”
“Now that chance is before me.
I must consider whether this is the only opportunity I will ever have in this life.
I believe humanity has survived to this day because of the Emperor’s immeasurable merit.
But to restore mankind’s glory is our duty, one we cannot refuse!”
Lancelot spoke with resolute determination.
To make this cesspit of a world even slightly better, he truly did have an unshirkable duty.
As for how exactly that would be implemented…
he would leave that to Lord Primarch.
And so:
“For that reason, I wish to ask the Lamenters to help me.
I need to make haste to Terra.
I must immediately meet the Emperor.
Then I will fulfill my promise and bring humanity, bring the Imperium, a hope powerful enough to reverse its decline!”