When Romulus stepped into the chamber, all he saw were chunks of flesh strewn across the floor, still spurting blood.
Chaos Space Marines.
Judging from the skull motifs on their armor and the blood-red paint, they were most likely a warband devoted to one of the Four Ruinous Powers—specifically Khorne, the Blood God.
After efficiently dispatching the enemy, Arthur drew out his blade and propped up a fallen warrior clad in black armor. Upon confirming the emblem of the Crimson Fists on the warrior's pauldron, he examined the armor more closely—and frowned.
These kill-team members weren't Primaris Marines. Looks like Regent Guilliman hasn't awakened yet.
He paused and listened carefully.
Other than the war cries of blood sacrifices to the Blood God and the sound of axe blades meeting flesh, there were no signs of ongoing combat. The dead Deathwatch bodies on the floor, and the Chaos Marines who attacked them, all pointed to one thing: this chamber's defenders had already lost combat capability.
"We're too late, aren't we?"
The overwhelming stench of blood rushed into his helmet, and Arthur knew—it wasn't natural.
This was definitely a Warp-related influence.
After all, his armor's internal systems had never even been in contact with the outside air.
"We're not too late."
Romulus's gaze fell on the fallen warrior's neck and chest cavity, where two vicious holes remained—as if something had violently carved out organs.
"Chaos Marines and daemons don't usually get along. They won't let those daemons snatch the spoils before they've had their fill."
"…That's true."
Arthur recalled this point and gently laid down the Deathwatch Marine's body.
As superhuman warriors who've undergone nineteen surgical augmentations, every Space Marine carries what's called a gene-seed, used to cultivate the organs necessary for creating more Space Marines.
With the implantation of the eighteenth organ—the gene-seed repository—the seed matures over time. The neck seed is harvestable after 5 years, and the chest seed after 10.
The former is typically harvested routinely for gene-tithe or warband reserves. The latter is usually retrieved by Apothecaries after a Marine falls in battle.
Gene-seeds are the very foundation of a Chapter. Severe mutation or mass loss of these seeds can spell the death of an entire warband—unless the parent Chapter or Imperium intervenes.
For Chaos Marines, whose bodies are warped and supplies long cut off, stealing loyalist gene-seeds is one of the few remaining ways to reinforce their numbers.
Likewise, because of a certain big guy who resisted the Warp but still infused Warp essence into the process of creating Space Marines, gene-seeds are highly sought-after by daemons—used in dark rituals as extremely rare and valuable offerings.
That's why these Chaos Marines, focused on the Gellar Field Generator, didn't destroy it immediately. After all, a leopard doesn't share its kill with hyenas.
They might even finish the fight and hijack the ship, leaving the daemons outside staring helplessly.
Thanks to his deep knowledge of this universe's hidden truths, Arthur quickly understood the key detail.
But—
"Just the two of us?"
Arthur asked, suggesting they wait for the Sisters of Battle to arrive.
Based on their estimated pace, they should arrive in about a minute. These power-armored, highly augmented warrior-nuns—fiercely devoted and blessed by the Emperor—were always excellent allies to Space Marines.
His superhuman brain told him that the damage in just this section alone was caused by a team of sixteen. What they'd be facing next weren't just the usual cannon fodder—they'd be actual Chaos Space Marines.
"Two of us?"
Romulus let out a scoffing laugh.
"Who said there were only two of us?"
"…?"
Arthur tilted his head, and as he turned, a group of blue-armored Ultramarines emerged from the shadows behind him.
"Hiss… he really pulled it off. But why are the souls so damn expensive?"
Romulus muttered under his breath.
"Come again?"
Arthur stared at these Ultramarines, as if Romulus had pulled them out from under his codpiece, his mind suddenly flooded with a swirling galaxy of confusion.
"Swept one up directly and copied it. Since we're going for speed, might as well commit to it."
Sensing Arthur's confusion, Romulus pointed at a Space Marine lying on the ground with the Ω symbol and a skull insignia on his pauldron, then patted the shoulder of one of the nearby Ultramarines.
"Standard firstborn Marine body specs. But the soul was too expensive and had to be written manually, so I didn't bother. Running them on manual control. But still enough."
"I'm almost certain the Chaos Gods aren't watching us."
Arthur examined the almost machine-like Ultramarines and shook his head. He started to doubt the theory that their strange abilities were the result of Warp 'blessings.'
If the Chaos Gods could just blow up a Marine's body and let daemons crawl in like this, why would they waste time whispering in high lords' ears, hoping for another penitent crusade?
Of course, he couldn't rule out the possibility that Chaos was running some kind of subsidy program, hoping to get a better return on investment. After all, judging from how Tzeentch tricked Primarch Magnus, the Four Gods had plenty of patience and capital to burn.
Even Primarchs with superhuman intellect could be deceived. Arthur, a young man raised in the greenhouses of the 3K era, had neither the wisdom to spot such deception nor the guts to gamble on it.
In short—until they got out of the Warp and found a Blank to verify whether their abnormalities were Warp-related—it was best to question everything.
"Fair point."
Nodding, Romulus nudged Arthur.
"You go draw their fire. I've got a dozen guns lined up on our side."
The cramped quarters of a warship meant whoever fired first—and harder—usually won.
Shipboard skirmishes favored those with overwhelming firepower, and it wasn't uncommon for mere mortals to trade their lives for an Astartes.
With a dozen bolters and melta guns at their backs, crushing poorly-supplied heretics would be simple.
"Alright, move fast."
Cracking his neck and focusing ahead, Arthur raised his shield and advanced through the corridor at a half-crouch, scanning the chamber as he went.
There was no way the Chaos Marines only had one guy in hiding.
But these heretics, confident in their victory, wouldn't expect a squad that shouldn't even be here.
Several Chaos Marines leapt at Arthur mid-swing—only to freeze in disbelief when they saw the line of blue-armored giants behind him.
Chaos had given them powerful bodies and battle instincts, but those instincts weren't enough to stop a saturation volley of explosive shells in a tight hallway.
Arthur maintained peak defensive posture as he steadily pushed forward—
—until he reached the generator's base, a slightly more open space.
The stench of blood reached its sickening peak at that moment.
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