As the Blood Angels and the Weepers departed the inner wall, advancing toward the encroaching Bio-Titan, Follos made his way to the war council chamber.
The gathering had begun—a solemn assembly. Present were the Librarians, captains of various companies, Bloodthirst generals, Sisters of Battle, and Cadia's own General Dust alongside his strike force officers.
Compared to the last meeting, the room was much emptier. Several chapter leaders had already perished with their warriors, buried beneath the sea of Tyranids. Since the swarm's assault had intensified, entire companies had sacrificed themselves in vain. Though Dante said nothing, the unspoken consensus was that this would likely be their final council.
The atmosphere hung heavy. Heads were bowed in silent contemplation—some grieving fallen comrades, others brooding on what awaited them. Even Dante had shed his golden mask, allowing all to see the weary, age-worn face beneath.
"We face our last battle," Dante's deep, timeworn voice reverberated throughout the hall. "If Baal's fall is written in the stars, if extinction is to be our fate, then let our end be worthy of honor."
"I will lead you in this battle."
With that, he rose from his throne and replaced the golden mask, concealing his age and becoming once more the legendary human hero who had led the Blood Angels for a thousand years in humanity's darkest hours. The captains met his gaze and nodded silently, their expressions resolute.
"For Sanguinius!" Dante shouted.
"For Sanguinius!" they echoed.
A fierce cry shook the chamber. Just then, a voice interrupted, "Excuse me, I must intrude."
All eyes turned toward the doorway, where Inquisitor Bellona and her acolytes had just entered, her voice amplified by a device to be heard over the rallying cries.
"Lord Commander, why have you yet to authorize my plan to eradicate the Tyranids?" Bellona demanded, locking eyes with Dante.
A month prior, Dante had given Bellona tentative approval to test her plan, instructing her to proceed cautiously. Since then, she had been awaiting support from Follos. Now, with Dante prepared to lead his warriors into an honorable death, Bellona could scarcely withhold her reproach.
"I apologize; I have been remiss," Dante replied humbly, his tone unchanged. "Mephiston foresaw a dire consequence should your plan proceed. Therefore, I delayed. In the chaos of recent events, I failed to inform you."
Bellona turned her gaze from Dante to Mephiston, the Chief Librarian, and demanded, "What did you see?"
"I saw your plan breaching reality, summoning demons who would slaughter upon Baal's soil. I saw a powerful demon with our severed heads impaled upon its spine," Mephiston replied.
Bellona dismissed this, saying, "Impossible! After Cadia, the Eye of Terror has shrunk to half its former size. Even on Cadia, children are being born with normal eyes. How could my plan open a gateway?"
Her words caught Dust off guard; the birth of such children, though rare, hinted at a future where Cadia might finally know peace. But that wasn't the immediate concern.
"Even if, by some chance, my plan invited catastrophe, what does it matter?" Bellona continued, pacing as she spoke to those assembled. "With the Eye diminished, would they retain their former power? None of you would need to die today. Yet, because of the Chief Librarian's resistance, we all must face sacrifice."
As she finished, the assembly erupted in murmurs. Bellona had rekindled a spark of hope, however slender. Living or dying was no longer the issue—no one here had expected to survive for weeks. The question now was whether Baal itself could be saved.
Many captains turned toward Mephiston, silently urging him to reconsider. The promise of repelling the swarm and defending Baal had divided them. Though some remained neutral, the majority were swayed by Bellona's reasoning. Only Mephiston and the Librarians held firm in their refusal.
"Are you against me for Baal's sake or for your own survival?" Bellona asked Mephiston. "Is it that you fear my plan would bring your end? Fear not; I can protect you all."
Mephiston remained impassive, then turned to Dante and suggested, "Let us settle this by vote. I will abstain."
Dante nodded. "Let it be done. Those in favor of enacting the psyker plan, raise your hands."
Hands lifted across the chamber, an overwhelming majority. There was no need for further discussion. Bellona had triumphed, even with the Blood Knights and Flesh Tearers absent; their opposition would not have shifted the result.
One captain declared, "I am aware of the horrors this plan might unleash. But if it saves Baal, if it preserves our Primarch's legacy, then my brothers and I shall face the consequences without regret."
Mephiston nodded, conceding. He then asked Bellona, "What does your plan entail?"
Though confident, Bellona did not dismiss Mephiston's caution; his vision had some validity. Therefore, she proposed a trial run within Baal's stronghold.
"Withdraw the forces from Baal's moons, and gather everyone in the fortress's core. Librarians, prepare yourselves for the psychic onslaught," Bellona instructed.
"But how do we repel the swarm if everyone is clustered here?" Mephiston asked.
Bellona hesitated, unprepared for that question. Before Mephiston could press further, Karlaen burst into the chamber.
Still unarmored, Karlaen had discarded his dimensional warhead.
"Commander, you must come to Defense Point Seventeen," he urged.
"What has happened?" Dante demanded.
"Do you remember the fire-spewing creature unleashed by the Necrons in the Hades system?" Karlaen said. "It has returned."
The words were vague, but Dante understood. Before the defense of Baal, the Blood Angels had fought in the Hades system alongside the Necrons. When the Necrons faced defeat, they had unleashed a power akin to a god. Dante recalled the Necron's boast—that it had enslaved a fragment of one of their dreaded Star Gods.
And now, that fragment, lost since the disastrous battle, had returned.