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Chapter 100: Victory is in You, in Me, in Every One of Us
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 14:44:38 +0000 UTCChapter 100: Victory is in You, in Me, in Every One of Us
When I looked to the distance, I knew not when the brilliant light of the lances and the wreckage of the enemy ships would fall together.
Craters, corpses, and soldiers covering the mountains and plains, hunting down the Hive Fleet like a whirlwind sweeping away scattered clouds. On the high mountain built from the bones of their enemies, Astartes, Astra Militarum, and humans from every social strata planted their tattered banner on the summit.
The wind howled, the setting sun burned like a torch. When the sunlight finally fell through the holes torn in the atmosphere by a thousand lances, the earth was covered in a layer of gold, interwoven with blood, a sight so vibrant it was hard to look away.
For countless years to come, there will always be those who remember that day.
Because that was the first glimmer of dawn before the sun rose.
— Inquisitor-Lord of the Ordo Originatus: Aglaia Hesiod
In the hive city of Pierdra, before the Shrine of the Bloody Rose, a victory celebration of unprecedented scale was underway.
The Angels of the Emperor from every Chapter that had participated in this campaign marched in neat ranks along the roads, which were pockmarked and cratered by the fires of war.
In their columns, Sisters and priests carried the holy urns that held the remains of heroes. The carcasses of countless Tyranid behemoths were dragged by chains to the top of the Shrine and cast into the eternally burning pyre, fed by the phosphex weapons.
Around the columns, on two slopes built from the ruins, were the cheering people of humanity.
They were not in neat formations. Some were simply sitting on the ground, leaning against the still-warm steel. But it was this complete, post-battle relaxation that allowed them to erupt with an infinite enthusiasm.
The fleet had entered low orbit. If you just looked up, you could see the beautiful silhouette of a Gloriana-class battleship.
The auspex was constantly receiving information from the entire planet, processing the results and sending them to every communication device that could receive them.
The enemy had been completely cleansed, and humanity still endured.
"We were victorious," Romulus said, looking at the crowd from the viewing platform. He turned to Canoness Superior Elissa at his side. "Do you know why?"
This Canoness had, during the battle, strapped herself into a specially modified, defense-sacrificing suit of Seraphim armor, seeking a glorious death. But, perhaps because her faith was too fervent, she had charged at the forefront of every attack and had still survived to this day, to stand here now.
Hearing Romulus's question, she quickly replied with a respect that was devoid of any other thought, "Your plan was meticulous, your command was decisive, and the strength of you, my Lords, was..."
"No. You only mentioned us," Romulus gently interrupted the Canoness's praise, his eyes sweeping over the holy urns behind the Astartes, each one carrying the remains of the sacrificed.
His gaze fell upon a casket that had been brought to his side. He saw an old man, lying inside, his expression peaceful. Canoness Arabella was presiding over the rites for these fallen warriors. The various Chapters were also mourning their dead with their own unique cultures.
This was a celebration, and also a funeral.
Romulus held out his hand. "Victory is in you, in me, in them, and in every human who fought for it."
"Yes, my Lord." Elissa bowed. She did not understand much. The lack of a formal education made it difficult for her to grasp concepts like humanism. But it didn't matter.
Did they win the war? Yes.
Did the citizens of the Imperium survive? They did.
Since the lords were correct, there was no need to think so much. Elissa clenched her fists with fervor. She only needed to fight, to follow the guidance of the lords and fight, on and on.
"Arthur! Arthur!" the crowd cheered. It was the black knight. It was he who had ignited the first spark of resistance in the warriors. It was he who had fought on the nameless battlefield, keeping the claws that preyed on humanity at bay.
Arthur walked alone onto the high platform, joining the two who were already waiting there.
"The Seraph! Karna!"
Karna was the banner, the torch that led the people forward. If not for his fearless advance, the people would have long since collapsed amidst the repeated setbacks.
The angel left the military formation and came to Romulus's left.
Of the two of them, one dwelled in a distant world, a starlight that guided the warriors. The other was immersed in the crowd, a sun that ignited the sparks.
Romulus looked at the cheers his partners were receiving and smiled sincerely.
See? These are heroes.
CLAP—
His steel-clad gauntlet was grasped. Facing the crowd, the cheering crowd, the four hands were raised together.
"Romulus! Romulus!"
The cheers, like a rising tide, came again, one wave after another.
When Romulus's calm, cool voice had echoed in their comms, they knew that their lord's gaze was upon them. They knew that someone was hoping they would survive. That voice would not scorn your weakness, would not scorn your flaws. That voice would provide you with the best, and then teach you, step by step, how to live.
Every shot they fired, every tentative command they gave, came from the guidance of that calm voice, from the countless, unseen hands that had supported them from behind.
Romulus was the one they were most familiar with.
See? We are all heroes!
Ramesses laughed aloud. He had hidden himself behind a psychic veil. His actions were too dangerous to be revealed to the public. His partners never cared about their individual gains or losses. And as long as his partners knew of his deeds, that was enough.
The footsteps of the transmigrators had finally stepped onto the galactic stage. Their previous experiences, all on this planet, this planet named Pierdra, would be forever recorded in the history of the Imperium.
A group of mortals, a few Space Marines, and the forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus had held back the most terrifying Great Devourer, had thwarted the plot of the Great Enemy of Chaos, and had held on until the arrival of reinforcements. This had been a Chaos ritual built on a trillion souls, a Hive Fleet of millions that had devoured a massive amount of biomass, and it had all collapsed here.
Looking at the crowd below, at the people, almost every one of them holding a child. Some they did not know, some they did. This was their future.
"...Are you sad?" Romulus asked in a low voice. Many had died in this battle. Of the people the transmigrators had rescued, a conservative estimate of several million had died. And with the collective outbreak of post-war trauma, the death toll would continue to climb.
War is never without death.
"Sacrifice is the only way to change this universe. So I am not sad," Arthur said, having taken off his helmet long ago. His golden hair shone in the sunlight, his eyes showing not a hint of darkness, only an ever-strengthening resolve.
"So many deeds cry out to be done, and always urgently; the world rolls on, time presses. Ten thousand years are too long; seize the day, seize the hour!"
(Translator's Note: The final line is a famous quote from a poem by Mao Zedong, titled "Reply to Guo Moruo." It is a powerful call to revolutionary action and seizing the moment to create change.)
(End of Chapter)
