The Guardian’s words lingered in the air.
> **”The Last Seal…has broken.”** No klaxons followed.
No explosions.
Only silence.
It was the silence of an ancient oath finally coming to an end.
Captain Alaric slowly lowered his power sword, though he did not sheath it.
Across the ruined transit station, the Alpha Legion did the same.
For the first time in ten thousand years, loyalist and traitor alike found themselves staring at an enemy neither truly understood.
— The deck trembled.
Not violently.
Rhythmically.
One pulse.
Then another.
The vibrations spread through the immense cruiser, travelling along its adamantium frame.
Brother Leon frowned.
“That’s not the plasma reactors.” Master-crafted Imperial reactors produced a constant hum.
This…
This resembled a heartbeat.
Captain Alaric remembered the sound from beneath the hidden chamber.
It was growing stronger.
— The Guardian slowly turned toward the Hidden Talons.
Its featureless face remained unreadable, yet every warrior instinctively felt its attention.
When it spoke again, the voice came not through the air.
It resonated directly inside every mind.
Not through the Warp.
Somehow…
Beyond it.
> **”Children of the Nineteenth.”** Brother Cassian stiffened.
It knew them.
Not their Chapter.
Their bloodline.
Captain Alaric answered carefully.
“We are the Hidden Talons.” The Guardian remained silent for several moments.
Then it replied.
> **”The name has changed.”** > **”The purpose has not.”** — Praetor Nemeon slowly removed his helmet.
His face was weathered, marked by centuries of war.
Silver threaded through his black hair.
Despite the Hydra upon his armour, there was no madness in his eyes.
Only exhaustion.
“My brothers…” His voice echoed through the station.
“…perhaps we should finally tell them the truth.” Several Alpha Legionnaires looked toward him.
None objected.
— Captain Alaric kept his bolter trained upon the Praetor.
“Start talking.” Nemeon nodded.
“During the Great Crusade, both the Raven Guard and the Alpha Legion investigated unexplained phenomena beyond the Emperor’s frontier.” Brother Gideon scoffed.
“You expect us to believe our Primarch worked beside Alpharius?” “No.” Nemeon answered calmly.
“I expect you to believe the Emperor ordered it.” Silence followed.
“The mission was classified.” “The Mechanicum believed they had discovered a relic from a civilization older than any xenos known to the Imperium.” “They were wrong.” Captain Alaric thought of the hidden chamber.
“The prison.” “Yes.” — Nemeon continued.
“The Emperor Himself came here.” Every Hidden Talon stiffened.
“He ordered the chamber sealed.” “The records destroyed.” “The knowledge divided.” Brother Cassian frowned.
“Divided?” “The Raven Guard would guard the location.” “The Alpha Legion would erase every trail leading to it.” Brother Leon stared.
“You expect us to believe traitors protected an Imperial secret?” Nemeon’s expression hardened.
“We became traitors decades later.” No one answered.
History supported that much.
— Captain Alaric’s thoughts raced.
If Nemeon spoke the truth…
Then this mission had begun before the Horus Heresy itself.
Before Isstvan.
Before betrayal.
Ten thousand years of bloodshed…
All to keep a single prison hidden.
— The Guardian slowly extended one elegant six-fingered hand.
The air shimmered.
A sphere of silver light appeared before every warrior.
Images formed within it.
Not illusions.
Memories.
The Hidden Talons watched as the chamber beneath the *Merciless Death* appeared as it had ten millennia earlier.
The Emperor stood at its center.
His golden armour shone like a star.
Beside Him stood Corax.
Nearby waited Alpharius, his face concealed beneath his helm.
Even they remained silent before the floating black sphere.
The Emperor spoke.
Though no sound reached the observers.
The Guardian translated.
> **”This must never awaken.”** The vision shifted.
Thousands of Mechanicum workers dismantled laboratories.
Entire data vaults burned.
Astropaths erased records.
The chamber disappeared beneath layers of adamantium and ceramite.
Finally…
The hull of the *Merciless Death* formed around it.
The prison became part of the ship itself.
The vision faded.
— Brother Remus whispered, “The Emperor knew.” The Guardian inclined its head.
> **”Yes.”** Captain Alaric asked the question none wished to voice.
“What is imprisoned?” The Guardian remained silent.
Long enough that Alaric believed it would refuse.
Finally, it answered.
> **”A Witness.”** The unfamiliar word echoed strangely.
Brother Cassian frowned.
“A witness to what?” The Guardian’s reply chilled every soul present.
> **”The First War.”** — No one understood.
Not completely.
But every warrior knew one thing.
Whatever the “First War” had been…
It predated mankind.
— Suddenly, Brother Corian’s vox crackled.
His reconnaissance squad had remained further along the transit tunnels.
“Captain!” Static flooded the channel.
Then frantic breathing.
“We’ve found the breach!” “What breach?” Alaric demanded.
“The lower vault!” “Something came through!” Bolter fire erupted over the vox.
Brother Corian shouted orders.
Then came an unfamiliar sound.
Not mechanical.
Not organic.
A chorus of voices speaking simultaneously in hundreds of languages.
The transmission ended abruptly.
— Captain Alaric looked toward the Guardian.
“You knew this would happen.” The being lowered its head.
> **”Probability.”** > **”Not certainty.”** Brother Gideon growled.
“Can it be stopped?” The Guardian looked toward the distant decks below.
Its answer was immediate.
> **”Yes.”** Hope flickered.
Then the Guardian continued.
> **”At great cost.”** — Across the ship, bulkheads began sealing automatically.
Blast doors slammed shut.
Ancient defense systems awakened.
Heavy servitor turrets unfolded from hidden recesses.
The *Merciless Death* had become a fortress.
Not to keep intruders out.
To keep something in.
— On the bridge of the *Talons of Terra*, Master Hadrian stared in disbelief.
“The cruiser has locked every internal compartment.” Captain Lucien Voss looked toward Corven.
“The First Company is trapped.” Corven’s jaw tightened.
“Prepare every boarding craft.” Decimus looked up sharply.
“My Chapter Master?” Corven’s answer carried the weight of absolute certainty.
“We’re bringing the entire Chapter aboard.” “My lord, that’s over three hundred Astartes.” “I know.” Corven looked through the bridge viewport toward the silent hulk of the *Merciless Death*.
“If what sleeps beneath that ship escapes…” He rested one hand upon the pommel of his relic power sword.
“…then three hundred Hidden Talons may not be enough.” — Deep beneath them all…
Far below the prison chamber…
Something ancient opened its eyes.
Not red.
Not green.
Gold.
A voice, impossibly old and impossibly calm, whispered into the darkness.
> **”The sons of Corax have returned.”** A second voice answered.
Cold.
Patient.
> **”Then let them decide whether the galaxy deserves another dawn.”** The deck shook once more.
And somewhere in the deepest reaches of the *Merciless Death*…
A massive lock disengaged.