Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 102: A Good Child

In the silent private cabin, Soshyan gradually fell asleep.

Whether in a dream or in reality, the ethereal chiming of the chapel bells drifted into his ears, followed by the sounds of chanting and praying.

Soshyan was not startled in the least. Instead, his body became soothed, and his limbs gradually relaxed...

The Chaplain's deep voice and the choir's beautiful singing did not seem to cease with the passage of time. They continued to echo all around, becoming increasingly ethereal.

With his ears filled with this exquisite movement, Soshyan couldn't help but sob.

Although his eyelids tried to brim with tears, they never could. Instead, it made his eyes feel unbearably dry.

He felt himself becoming lighter, even lighter than when he was in the void. It seemed as if his soul was about to leave the confines of his body at any moment.

Soshyan's breathing smoothed out. Drowsiness continuously flooded his mind, as thick and heavy as the mire of a swamp.

His consciousness was filled with many images. They were so real that Soshyan mistook them for reality.

Drifting about, he returned to his old manor. His parents were watching him, the wind gently teasing their clothes."Father! Mother!"

Soshyan couldn't help but cry out loudly. His father was gazing at him, tightly embracing his wife by the shoulders.

His mother, the mother who had embraced him countless times in his dreams, smiled and nodded at him.

"You are already an Angel, my son."

Waving her hand, she smiled and said:

"Spread your wings and fly, fly."

Suddenly, a streak of golden light flashed across the sky behind her.

The music became softer and softer, like a melody of heaven. Surely, even the voice of the Emperor Himself could not be sweeter than this.

However, he was not able to fly. Instead, he began to plummet, falling deeper and deeper toward the bottomless abyss—

Then he saw himself.

He saw that he was on another ship, a capital ship of some type. Gripping the railing of the command throne tightly, he successfully coordinated an operation, wiping out a group of traitors at an orbital station.

The joy of victory and an icy determination churned in his heart.

He had won his first victory since becoming the Chapter Master—

He continued to plummet.

He saw himself standing among his brothers, a medal on his chest. Standing on a high platform, he faced the applauding recruits within a glorious, echoing marble chamber.

He was young. His body was no longer shriveled like in the past; it was powerful and brimming with vitality.

Excited joy filled his thoughts.

The fall continued.

An impassive-faced youth was accepting the congratulations of many people. Wave after wave of people walked past him, shaking his hand, taking hololiths with him. The ornate graduation robes worn on his body looked completely out of place.

He was so silent, but only he alone could savor the excitement in his heart.

He had passed the screening.

Finally, everything would end.

He crashed into an already forgotten corner.

A room illuminated by flickering candles.

The superhuman of the present was merely a child, wearing simple, childish clothes, curled up on a small cot.

He was crying, trying to muffle his sobs with one hand, while the other tightly grasped a toy—a metal statuette of an Astartes missing an arm.

He was still so young, his mind close to how it was when he was first born.

Occupying his senses were only those fixed impressions—warmth, comfort, and love.

His father's encouraging voice, his mother's safe embrace.

Suddenly, a hand pressed upon Soshyan's shoulder, instantly snapping him awake.

Turning away from the wall, he saw the helmetless Sol leaning over beside his bed, his hand resting on his shoulder.

"I apologize for not knocking."

Although the other man said this, Soshyan knew that this room of his was not so easily entered. Sol had certainly used other methods—such as finding a certain Tech-Priest.

But regardless, since the other man had barged in like this, it meant something had happened that required him to solve it.

Soshyan swept those heavy emotional burdens into the corners of his mind.

Once again, he transformed back into the Chapter Master of the Astral Knights.

"Instructor Sol, what happened?"

Soshyan rubbed his sore face and sat up from the bed, his legs hanging over the edge—he was not wearing his Power Armor right now.

"Nothing happened."

Under Soshyan's befuddled gaze, Sol pulled over a chair from the side and sat down on it.

"I just heard about some things."

Soshyan stiffened for a moment, then lowered his hands.

"I have already dealt with those matters. You do not need to invest too much attention into them. The preliminary selection for recruits is about to begin. You are the main organizer, you must get ready."

"There are still three days."

Sol smiled and patted the other man's shoulder.

"I wanted to say, Alexei, you don't need to blame yourself too much. You are a good child."

"Indeed."

Soshyan also laughed.

"Soshyan Alexei is a good child."

Sol naturally understood Soshyan's mockery and shook his head.

"You know what I mean. You are their pride. Perhaps your departure brought them dismay, or even pain, but the you of today is absolutely what they would be delighted to see."

Soshyan's light chuckle turned into genuine laughter. He kept laughing until his dry eyes became moist.

Ever since he became an Angel, since he became superhuman, tears had appeared in his eye sockets for the very first time.

Subsequently, his laughter faded, and both men fell into silence.

Ten minutes later—

"Instructor Sol, am I very weak?"

"Why do you say that?"

"We were taught that we should discard all mortal thoughts, bindings, and desires, including the memories of our past. Humanity is a weakness to us."

"Hmm—"

Sol crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and gently nodded.

"Soshyan, let me ask you a question. Do you think the Great Rebellion occurred because too much humanity brewed within the minds of those Astartes?"

Soshyan was momentarily speechless.

"Those massacres, that destruction, was it all because they were too human?"

Sol shook his head.

"No. Exactly the opposite. Most of the Traitors I knew were dregs totally devoid of humanity."

As he spoke, he placed his hands onto Soshyan's shoulders, bringing the distance between the two a bit closer.

"Remember, humanity is indeed our weakness, but it is also humanity that makes us warriors instead of mere weapons. Those Traitors merely embraced their desires, yet that is not a reason for us to abandon our humanity. Do you know what truly lacks humanity? You certainly do, because you have faced them."

Soshyan nodded; of course he had.

Those soulless Necrons were indeed exactly that, in a certain sense.

"So you must remember those things that make you shed tears. Remember their value instead of forgetting them... One day, they will lend you a helping hand."