The Arch Angels: The Iron Plague Legion.

Chapter 4.

Back with the remembrance.
"So it was it a trap? A mere decoy?" inquired the remembrance, her curiosity evident. I responded with a somber expression, acknowledging the truth. "Indeed, it was a trap, much to our detriment. It was later revealed that no esteemed Astartes of higher rank were present on The Emperor's Pride at that time." Pity and anticipation played across her features as she absorbed this information. "So, that's when you first encountered Josef Soul?" she queried, attempting to shift the conversation towards lighter matters. With a faint smile, I nodded and replied, "Yes, it was during that encounter that I first crossed paths with the newly appointed Angelic Champion. He was a remarkable Astartes in more ways than one, earning the title of Heir of Partaqlus after the battle on Ilerium 5. A title well-deserved, though it is a shame he couldn't live up to it do to his all to early demise." The atmosphere in the room grew increasingly subdued as I uttered those words. Even the remembrance herself seemed to adopt a more subdued demeanor upon broaching the sensitive topic of Josef's demise. Allowing the silence to linger, I patiently awaited her next words. "Well lets continue then" I said with motionless voice.

Chapter 4
As we docked on board The Angelic Grace, the sensation of the landing reverberated through the hangar. The wait felt like an eternity, but finally, the captain signaled for us to disembark. I reached the door and braced myself, my throbbing arm and shoulder serving as a cruel reminder of the recent ordeal. With a gentle hiss, the door slid open, revealing the ship's dock descending to meet the hangar floor.

Stepping out onto solid ground, I began my descent towards the hangar, my eyes widening in astonishment as I beheld the unexpected sight below. Standing there, like a beacon of strength, was none other than First Captain Atréo, patiently waiting for my arrival.

With a mix of envy and admiration, I watched as Josef gracefully soared out of the boarding vessel, landing effortlessly beside Atréo. Meanwhile, I descended the landing bridge, my steps slightly less elegant. As I approached Atréo, I made sure to meticulously adhere to the proper etiquette when greeting the second highest commander in our legion. However, Atréo simply waved off my seemingly exaggerated display of respect, his focus already shifting to the matter at hand.

"Our entire assault played right into the enemy's hands," Atréo began, his voice filled with a mix of determination and frustration. "We managed to capture and interrogate a few Astartes from the Emperor's Children. It seems they were attempting to sabotage our Gellerfield."

Upon Atréo's interruption of my courteous gestures, I gathered that I had earned the freedom to speak openly. With genuine curiosity, I inquired, "Josef mentioned something to me, but I struggled to comprehend his reference to the Never-Born, First Captain. Could you enlighten me?" Atréo met my gaze in silence, contemplating whether or not to address my query. Eventually, he gestured for me to follow him. Exiting the hangar, we embarked on a path leading to the Angelic Grace's elevator system. Arriving at the elevators, Atréo pressed the button, summoning the lift that would transport us to the primarch's secluded quarters.

As I caught sight of the button Atréo had pressed, my heartbeat quickened, pulsing faster with each passing moment. The sheer magnitude of stepping foot into Primarch Partaqlus' private residence aboard The Angelic Grace overwhelmed me. It felt like an unimaginable honor, one that I believed was not rightfully mine. Atréo's expression mirrored my astonishment and rendered him speechless, his eyes fixed on me. The realization of our destination hit me like a tidal wave.

Attempting to ease my nerves, Atréo placed a comforting hand on my uninjured shoulder and assured me, "Eric, there's no need to worry. You've met Partaqlus countless times before." Despite my attempts to appear composed, I knew Atréo could see through my façade. I carefully gathered myself and responded, feigning calmness, "I'm perfectly calm. It's just my shoulder acting up; I'll have to consult our apothecaries once we're done here."

Atréo's smile acknowledged the wisdom in my words, agreeing that seeking medical attention was a wise course of action.

Silently, the elevator came to a halt, its motion indiscernible to the passengers within. As the doors gracefully slid open, I trailed behind Atréo, venturing towards the solitary door at the end of the corridor. This door possessed a striking display of the Legion's emblem, three skulls crafted in glistening gold, shimmering silver, and rustic bronze, aligned vertically. Positioned steadfastly on either side of the door were the Legion's finest warriors, The Nephilims. Approaching the entrance, with mere meters separating us, one of the Nephilims extended a welcoming gesture, granting us passage into the primarch's quarters.

As we stepped into the chamber, the presence of Partaqlus Half-blood, the esteemed leader of the 2nd Legiones Astartes Arch Angels, greeted our eyes. He, the youngest of the celestial twins, stood tall, his gaze fixed upon the ongoing battle between the Angelic Grace and the Emperor's Pride in the depths of the warp. Unfazed by our arrival, he made no indication of acknowledging our presence.

Surveying the room, I attempted to absorb the overwhelming impressions and emotions that engulfed me in that very moment. The proximity to Partaqlus, one of the Emperor's cherished sons and my own genetic progenitor, always stirred an indescribable surge within me. After a few fleeting seconds, Partaqlus slowly turned his attention towards me, his piercing eyes locking with mine for a mere fraction of time. In that heartbeat, an overwhelming wave of reverence compelled me to immediately kneel before him, humbled by his divine presence.

Partaqlus remained still for a fleeting moment before approaching me, extending his hand to lift me up. With a gentle grip, he aided me in rising to my feet, his voice resonating with concern. "Eric, I perceive your injuries. Allow me to offer my assistance." Placing his hand upon my wounded shoulder, a surge of agony coursed through me as his weight pressed upon it. Yet, in an instant, an inexplicable sensation of warmth and solace spread from the injured spot, permeating my very being. Within mere seconds, the excruciating pain dissipated entirely, leaving behind a profound sense of rejuvenation and restoration. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I humbly dropped to one knee, expressing my sincerest appreciation to Partaqlus, endeavoring to convey the utmost courtesy.

Summoning a surge of immense strength, I summoned the willpower to rise to my feet. As I regained my composure, I glanced over at my genesire, seeking guidance on what he wished for me to do in this unfamiliar realm. However, before I could utter a word, Atréo, the First Captain, interjected with urgency in his voice.

"My Lord," he began, "I believe it is crucial for Eric Shield, as captain of the 2nd company, to uncover the true nature of the primal truth that resides within the sea of souls. We must enlighten him about the treachery committed by the tratior primarchs and their Legiones Astartes who have forsaken our Emperor and joined the rounius powers."

Partaqlus, the leader of our legion, regarded me once more, his expression contemplative as he weighed Atréo's request. After a brief moment of reflection, he nodded and turned his gaze back to the ongoing battle outside. His voice resonated with an icy edge as he spoke.

"Very well, I shall reveal to him the dark secrets of the warp and the betrayal of my own brother, Horus Luprical. However, I want you to proceed to the command deck and ensure our departure from the immaterium at the earliest opportunity. We must escape from the clutches of Fulgrim and his traitorous offspring," Partaqlus commanded, his disdain evident as he mentioned Fulgrim.

Atréo acknowledged his orders, bowing respectfully to Partaqlus' retreating figure, before swiftly exiting the room to carry out his task.