A floating platform, temporarily constructed from force fields and armor plates, was suspended in the cold vacuum between the "genesis" and the "glory of macragge".
Here was the post-war negotiation table.
The atmosphere was as heavy as a slab of lead.
On one side of the platform, Leticia sat quietly; behind her, three figures stood like statues from myth.
Angronia had her arms crossed and eyes closed, but beneath that dark red power armor, it felt as if a rage that could incinerate the stars might erupt at any moment.
Fogremia stood with perfect posture, her silver hair cascading like a waterfall, an elegant, faint smile of a victor playing on her lips.
Sanguinia's snow-white wings were gently folded, a hint of compassion in her sky-blue eyes as she quietly watched the massive blue figure opposite her.
On the other side of the platform, Robert Guilliman removed his helmet.
On his face, which resembled an ancient sculpture etched with weariness and majesty, the coldness of judging a heretic was no longer visible.
In its place was a profound inquiry and bewilderment that seemed almost ready to consume him.
Behind him, Marneus Calgar, Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, stood straight as a loyal blue bear, his power armor fists clenching with a metallic creak.
Silence.
A deathly silence.
Finally, it was Guilliman who first broke the frozen void.
"Now, without the interference of war."
The Imperial Regent's voice was as raspy as two pieces of rusted metal grinding together.
"I need an answer."
His azure eyes stared fixedly at Leticia, as if trying to pierce her soul.
"Who, exactly, are you?"
"And what is your purpose?"
Before he had finished speaking, Calgar stepped forward abruptly, his burly frame bringing a massive sense of pressure.
"And the source of your blasphemous power!"
Calgar's roar was filled with blatant hostility; he was trying to pull this meeting back into the framework of the Imperial Inquisition.
"How dare you lay hands on the Emperor's creations! How dare you use heresy to alter the form of our Gene-Father! These crimes must be explained!"
Leticia didn't even spare him a glance.
Her gaze remained calmly fixed on Guilliman's face from beginning to end.
It was as if Calgar's roaring was merely a meaningless cosmic wind.
"Regent."
She spoke; her voice wasn't loud, yet it instantly drowned out all other noise.
"Who I am is not important."
"What is important is that I can do what you cannot."
Leticia slowly raised her hand.
Her movements were not fast, yet they carried a certainty as if defining laws.
Her fingertips swept through the void, pointing in turn to the three figures behind her.
The first was Angronia.
"I can ensure that rage is no longer consumed by madness."
Angronia seemed to feel something; she opened her eyes, and in those amber pupils burned a pure Battle Intent, without a trace of chaos or pain.
Leticia's fingertip moved toward Fogremia.
"I can make the pursuit of perfection return to glory, rather than falling into the abyss."
Fogremia performed an impeccable, elegant curtsy toward Guilliman, her purple eyes filled with absolute confidence and pride.
Leticia's hand finally stopped in the direction of Sanguinia.
"I can ensure that the noblest soul no longer bears a tragic fate, no longer tormented for ten thousand years by the curse of the bloodline."
Sanguinia gave Guilliman a smile full of mercy and peace, her wings radiating a warm and holy light.
Leticia withdrew her hand.
She looked at Guilliman's face, which had turned stiff from extreme shock.
She knew the most critical moment had arrived.
Leticia leaned forward slightly, her pitch-black eyes like a pair of black holes, instantly locking down all of Guilliman's thoughts.
Her voice, word by word, like the heaviest Warhammer, smashed hard against the soul of the Imperial Regent.
"I have corrected the mistakes your father made."
"I have returned his most outstanding creations to the perfect forms they were always meant to be."
"Now..."
"You tell me, Regent."
"Is this, in the end, a crime?"
"Or is it... a salvation?"
Boom—!!!
This question carried no psychic energy, yet it was like a Cyclone Torpedo detonating in the depths of the soul.
Guilliman's breath completely stalled at this moment.
He entire being froze.
A crime?
He looked at the clear Battle Intent in Angronia's eyes and remembered the brother who had been driven mad by the Butcher's Nails in the Colosseum.
Was that pain a crime?
Salvation?
He looked at the heartfelt pride on Fogremia's face and remembered the Daemon Sword that had dragged his brother into Slaanesh's embrace.
Was escaping that corruption salvation?
He looked at the holy and serene smile on Sanguinia's face and remembered the fate of the Blood Angels struggling through the Black Rage and red thirst for ten thousand years.
Was ending that curse salvation?
He... could not say it.
He could not utter the word "heretic" to those three familiar yet strange faces, which were filled with peace and happiness.
Every article in the imperial codex, every dogma of the Ecclesiarchy, became pale and powerless at this moment, utterly laughable.
Leticia, with one simple question, had pushed the Imperial Regent to the edge of the cliff between reason and emotion.
She had successfully turned a trial into a multiple-choice question he could not answer.
She had firmly and effortlessly seized the initiative of this negotiation.
Calgar opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found he could not utter a single word.
Because even he, looking at the unprecedented peace on the faces of those three "Gene-Father" figures, could no longer roar the word "blasphemy".
The negotiation table fell into an even longer, more oppressive silence.
Time felt as if centuries had passed.
Guilliman finally moved.
He took a deep, deep breath, as if he needed to inhale all the coldness of this star sector into his lungs to make his Primarch heart resume its beat.
He avoided Leticia's lethal question.
He used a grander, more practical, and colder question to try and reclaim a shred of initiative for himself and for this crumbling Empire.
"Then..."
Guilliman's voice was so raspy it was almost tuneless.
"What was the purpose of everything you have done?"
He looked up, his azure pupils reflecting Leticia's calm and unruffled face, and asked the question that would determine the fate of the galaxy.
"Do you... intend to save this riddled Empire?"
------------------------------
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! If the fanfiction has you hooked and you can't wait to see what happens next, you can unlock 30 or more chapters in advance over on my patreon: patreon.com/FTLGenBen
Also every bit of support means the world to me so if you're loving the ride, don't forget to drop a Power Stone, Thanks.