A transport craft of bizarre design, its hatch gaping open, swept low over the perimeter of The Rock. Two silhouettes plummeted from the bay.
Silver metallic frames and towering statures, even the Lion could not ignore their presence. Beside the Thunderhawk he was preparing to board, Guilliman froze mid-stride, his gaze fixed on the newcomers.
Axion stepped through the settling dust kicked up by his own landing, flanked by his Aegis Protector. He surveyed the scorched facade of the Fortress-Monastery and began a purposeful stride forward.
Though the Lion had cautioned his Dark Angels against any overt aggression toward their cousins, the sight of two unknown "iron-clads" provoked an immediate, palpable tension. Bolters were leveled; blades were eased in their scabbards.
Axion marched directly to Guilliman's side. His synthesized voice carried the weight of an immutable demand.
"Collaborator Guilliman, I request authorization to enter the archives of the Fortress-Monastery before us."
Before Guilliman could draw breath to answer, Ezekiel, Grand Master of Librarians, stepped forward in sharp rebuke.
"This is the sanctum of the Dark Angels. Our libraries house the arcana and sacred lore of the First Legion; they are not for the eyes of outsiders. Not even the Adeptus Mechanicus may harbor such avarice. Under which Magos do you serve, that you dare voice such a demand?"
Despite the Imperial Aquila and Mechanicus sigils Axion had emblazoned upon his chassis, the Dark Angels held little love for the Priesthood of Mars. Ezekiel's tone was thick with vitriol.
The Lion's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
Not even his own brothers dared to pry into the shadowed history of his Legion. The archives of The Rock were a tomb for the darkness of both the Dark Angels and the Imperium, secrets they guarded with fanatical obsession for the sake of Imperial stability and Chapter honor.
Moreover, the Lion was standing right there. Why did this strange machine-entity bypass the master of the fortress to petition his brother instead? The Lion's predator instincts flared; something was fundamentally wrong.
Guilliman looked at his brother, the weight of the situation creating a visible awkwardness.
"Axion, the library of this Fortress-Monastery does not belong to me. I have no authority to grant you entry."
Axion turned his sensor-array toward the surrounding warriors, his movements eerily fluid.
"I am aware this is the Dark Angels' 'Rock.' Do the Dark Angels not fall under Imperial jurisdiction? It is my understanding that you are the Lord Regent of the Imperium; the entire realm operates under your mandate. Every world within the Imperium should obey your directives, for you exercise the will of the Emperor. Why is this location an exception?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Guilliman found himself momentarily speechless.
Every Space Marine, every Primarch, was a servant of the Emperor, and the Imperium was the manifestation of that Emperor's will. With a single logical progression, Axion had escalated the dispute to a terrifying height: If the Dark Angels did not follow the Lord Regent's will, were they in rebellion against the Imperium of Man?
Hidden eyes from various shadow-factions recorded the exchange. Almost instantly, word of this public confrontation reached the ears of the Adeptus Custodes, the Officio Assassinorum, and the Inquisition.
The First Legion, long hailed as the most loyal, was suddenly being roasted over a fire of its own secrets.
For the first time, Lion El'Jonson saw a flash of genuine helplessness in Guilliman's eyes. The Lord Regent's gaze pleaded: Help me. Now.
The Lion's response, however, nearly sent Guilliman back into a stasis field from sheer shock.
"I know not what forge-vault birthed you, machine, but I adjudge you tainted by the fires of Chaos!"
With a predatory grace, the Lion drew the Fealty, the blade recovered from the forest-realm, and lunged. He delivered a thunderous side-swipe, the blade wreathed in power.
Yet, the Aegis Protector matched the Primarch's transhuman speed perfectly. It swept its shield-arm in a brutal arc to meet the blow. The resulting impact was a thunderclap of kinetic energy; the shield's counter-force was so immense it sent the Lion skidding back across the deck.
The Dark Angels went into a combat trance instantly.
Bolt shells hammered against the Aegis Protector's energy shields, blooming into clouds of fire and smoke. The Inner Circle veterans moved with practiced lethality: those at distance maintained a suppressive fusillade, while those closer drew their blades to dismantle the "corrupted" machine that had dared strike their father.
Axion had not anticipated that these "collaborator-allies" would resort to violence over a logical inquiry.
Guilliman was equally aghast, but Axion was in no mood to forgive an unprovoked assault.
In the void above, Axion's vessel commenced an immediate deployment. Executor Heavy Tanks were dropped in rapid succession, while transport craft swarmed with Automated Sentry-Troopers to reinforce the surface.
The Dark Angels' assault was relentless. The Aegis Protector braced its shields, sheltering Axion while leveling its heavy laser cannons. Precise beams of searing light forced the veteran Astartes into desperate evasive maneuvers.
Any veteran who managed to close the distance with a power sword was swatted away by the machine's overwhelming physical strength.
For the Aegis Protector, the tactical situation was critical. They were surrounded in the heart of an enemy formation. The deployed tanks and reinforcements were still minutes away. It had to buy time.
Its heavy laser cannons fired in rhythmic cycles, pinning down high-threat targets. Long, vibrating molecular-knives snapped out from its forearms, weaving a shimmering web of steel. It parried every blade thrust toward it with cold, calculating efficiency, riposting with mechanical precision.
Under the aegis of Axion's superior processing power, the Dark Angels' movements were simulated and countered before they even committed. Not even one in ten strikes could bypass the machine's guard. The Aegis Protector moved with an ancient, fluid bladework that even the Black Templars would have found breathtaking.
As he assisted the robot's sub-routines, Axion looked toward the stunned Guilliman.
Guilliman wanted no part of a conflict with Axion, but the escalation was spiraling beyond his control. He realized he had to explain Axion's true nature to Lion El'Jonson immediately, or the ensuing catastrophe would make a Daemonic incursion look like a minor skirmish.
BOOM!
Seven heavy thuds shook the surface of the fortress. Seven Executor Heavy Tanks slammed into the deck, their massive cannons swiveling to aim at the Dark Angels. Notably, the barrels carefully avoided the lines of the Ultramarines, Blood Angels, and Black Templars.
Facing the raw power of these gargantuan war machines, the Dark Angels gritted their teeth, preparing to die to destroy the "heretek" entities that had harmed their Primarch.
The Aegis Protector stood its ground, loyally focused on its singular directive: Protect Axion.
The Lion, having regained his footing, signaled a "No Injury" tactical sign to the rushing Guilliman. But seeing the escalation, Guilliman only grew more frantic.
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