38: Chapter 38 What he brought back wasn't a battle report, but a warning.

Brothers, the previous titles were too trash, I'm planning to change the style.

When Marcus Aurelian stepped out of the Thunderhawk Gunship, the hangar deck of the Wrath of the Emperor was deathly silent.

His right arm hung at his side, the dull ache in his shoulder joint persistent. Corrosive traces left by the creep's digestive fluids on the soles of his boots were still smoking. In his left hand, he gripped the handheld communicator—the Brood Queen hadn't confiscated it, nor had she stuffed anything inside. As he walked down the ramp, the Tech-Officers and medics who rushed forward saw the expression on his face and all stopped three paces away.

Sebastian stood by the hangar hatch, his power armor still stained with Tyranid carapace fragments and undried digestive fluid. He glanced at Marcus without saluting. "What did she say to you?"

Marcus handed the communicator to a nearby Tech-Officer. "Check it. Every frequency, every encryption layer, every hidden signal—if there's something, there's something; if not, there's not."

"And then?"

"And then to the briefing room." Marcus walked past Sebastian without stopping. "Call Bern, Ortron, and Acting Captain Oldenburg. This isn't a battle report—you already know the battle report. The Swarm didn't slaughter the prisoners. The Brood Queen can write Imperial tactical sign language. She knows my rank, the location of the Wrath of the Emperor, the standard drop procedures of the Ultramarines, and she asked me a question." He paused. "What is the Emperor?"

Sebastian remained silent for a moment, then followed.

When the briefing room hatch slid open, Bern had already arrived. The Justicar's helmet was off, and his eyes, silver-rimmed from psychic erosion on his gaunt face, were particularly piercing in the dim light of the briefing room. Ortron and Acting Captain Oldenburg walked in afterward, and the hatch locked behind them.

Marcus recounted the entire conversation between him and the Brood Queen. No omissions, no embellishments, including how she suppressed the creep's digestive fluids to let him stand, how she drew the first symbol in tactical sign language, and how she paused for a long time after he spoke of the Emperor's sacrifice. It also included that last line of text—'What you have dictated, we are archiving. You believe you know The Swarm well. The Overmind says we wish to know you too.'

"She wants to exchange prisoners for the Inquisitor, so the Ultramarines can withdraw alive," Bern spoke up. "And then talk to the Inquisitor about the Emperor. During the last encounter in the tombs, her tactical level was already capable of learning during combat, and now—"

"Now she is assessing our faith," Marcus cut in coldly. "Not our firepower, not the fleet, not the Titan tonnage. Faith. Why humanity hasn't been exterminated by Chaos. What the Emperor is. Whether ten thousand years of sacrifice is worth it. Once such things are understood by a Brood Queen, the coming war won't be a matter of winning or losing—The Swarm will use our own definitions of ourselves to counter us."

"For example?" Oldenburg asked.

"For example, they will use our spirit of sacrifice to design traps," Ortron answered for Marcus. "Placing civilians on orbital platform wreckage so the Imperial Fleet won't dare fire; leaving a group of human prisoners in the deep layers of a Hive City to lure our ground forces into a Carnifex ambush. The fact that it didn't kill prisoners in the tombs before might have been this kind of foresight. We just thought it was gathering intelligence at the time."

He paused for half a second. "Now it seems the intelligence might go beyond the tactical level."

Marcus turned to Sebastian. "Did she say anything to you before the negotiations began?"

Sebastian recalled for a few seconds. "She first drew the negotiation symbol. Then—retreat. The Hive Overmind will not attack. The condition—call you down."

"She first drew negotiation," Marcus repeated slowly, "then drew retreat. She understands core demands, and understands even better how to gauge an opponent's bottom line. She knew the Ultramarines couldn't leave the Inquisitor behind, so she traded me for the entire ground strike team's path of retreat. But that wasn't what she truly wanted—she could have directly annihilated you all on the surface without any need for negotiation. The reason she was willing to talk is that her Overmind wants a living Inquisitor to sit down and converse with a Brood Queen. What they want isn't victory, but understanding."

The briefing room was quiet for a few seconds. Bern was the first to break the silence. "What did you give her?"

"The Emperor," Marcus replied briefly. "Not strategic intelligence. I told her the Emperor sits upon the Golden Throne, and for ten thousand years, has relied on the sacrifice of Psykers to maintain the Astronomican. I told her that human survival is built on piles of sacrifice, not evolution. She said—" He looked down at the communicator on the table, the red light of his bionic eye flickering imperceptibly in its socket. "She said, 'You are hiding within his sacrifice. Hiding for ten thousand years.'"

Bern's psychic eyes flashed, but he didn't lash out. Ortron laid his Power Sword across his knees, his knuckles turning white from his grip. Sebastian took a deep breath, removed his helmet, and set it on the tactical table.

"A single sentence that strikes at the Empire's sore spot," Captain Oldenburg whispered. "Just as we are gathering reinforcements to prepare for another siege—it is studying the Emperor."

Sebastian braced one arm on the tactical table. "They will come again. After the fall of Metallis, this system has become The Swarm's toughest fortress in this sector. Nephilak's fleet is still stationed in orbit, and with the leviathan mothership and the new units spawned by the blackstone engine, the scale of the next major engagement will only be larger than this one. Moreover, this Overmind must have calculated the cost before deciding to negotiate—he poured The Swarm's most scarce biomass and engineering time into Metallis, which shows his expectations for this stronghold go beyond just 'holding' it."

"So what is our next step?" Oldenburg asked.

Marcus stood up and walked to the briefing room's only porthole. Outside, some ships were still busy recovering wreckage and repairing hit sections. The industrial clouds of Metallis were still slowly rotating, and the cold green pulses of the blackstone engine flashed through the clouds every few seconds.

"Send the full record of today's conversation to Terra. Title: Xenos Civilization Has Developed the Capability to Assess Imperial Ideology. Note: Within less than one standard year of engagement with the Empire, this civilization has evolved from tactical learning to direct questioning of the Emperor's nature. Request that Terra re-evaluate the threat level before the main fleet finishes gathering. I don't care if they classify it as Terra-level or some new level—I need them to realize that time is not on our side."

He turned around and looked at Ortron and Sebastian.

"Once all transport ships have finished resupplying, the 7th Expeditionary Fleet will follow the Wrath of the Emperor into synchronous orbit and maintain distance from the Eternal Echo. Do not provoke them, but monitor the output frequency of the blackstone engine at all times. I will submit the assault plan for Graia to Terra—we cannot give The Swarm time for their next fortress to take shape."

Sebastian picked up his helmet again. "Will that Overmind try to negotiate terms with you again?"

"Next time won't be a negotiation." Marcus took one last look in the direction of Metallis. "Next time, he will be the one coming for us."