Chapter 2: New Recruits (Part 1)

The air was so thin that his lungs twitched from time to time. Sotha sat upright in his chair, his peripheral vision occasionally sweeping across his surroundings.

There were twenty boys in the transport plane, and over a hundred empty seats.

Perhaps it had never been full.

The Soms Academy recruited over five thousand boys from all walks of life every year, a significant portion of whom would not live to graduate. Most of them were children of prominent families from the middle and upper hive levels, but in that place, their status was useless; they were merely raw recruits to be trampled at will by the instructors.

In the academy, besides academic courses, they were subjected to grueling, even inhumane, physical training—or rather, devastation.

Over the years of study, everyone was pushed to the absolute limit of their capabilities.

Yet, from another perspective, most of them had bright futures ahead: commanders in the Astra Militarum, high-ranking civil officials, diplomats, or priests. A small number would become engineers, governors, judges, or even law enforcers, perhaps even setting foot on the sacred soil of Terra to become people of greater glory and status.

But this was not the ultimate goal for which the academy was founded.

Among the many graduates each year, at most—and "at most" was the key—only twenty could join the Astral Knights Chapter.

This planet was not originally a glorious recruitment world, but over two hundred years ago, a certain Chapter Master established a recruitment point here, beginning to select recruits they deemed sufficiently excellent from the noble academy.

In the whispers of the night, Sotha had inadvertently heard that in the ancient past, the selection criteria had never been so strict.

But after the Horus Heresy, many things changed.

That was a rebellion that once tore the entire Empire apart. Horus, the cursed beloved son of the Emperor, raised the banner of rebellion against his father, dragging nearly half of the Space Marines into the fray.

It was also a war beyond the imagination of their young minds. The Emperor’s beloved sons fell in it, and even the Emperor himself was severely wounded in the final decisive battle, forced to enter the Golden Throne deep within the Imperial Palace to preserve his life. Thereafter, the power of the human Empire fell into the hands of the High Lords of Terra.

The age of mortals had arrived.

But this did not mean those powerful warriors had vanished into the long river of history. They remained the Emperor’s most loyal and sharpest blades; no matter how critical the battlefield, their appearance would surely turn danger into safety.

They were the Emperor’s Angels of Death, the exterminators of xenos and heretics, and humanity’s most elite armed force. Each one was an immortal superman.

If this were true, the fact that Sotha Alexei had been selected was even more inconceivable.

He still could not believe it all. He felt incredulous when his name was called; he felt as if in a dream when he gave his farewell speech, and the same was true when everyone paid tribute to their small group of lucky ones.

Even when he was brought onto the transport plane bearing the Chapter’s emblem, it still felt surreal.

Because since childhood, Sotha had yearned desperately to become a Space Marine.

Although Sotha’s family could not be called prominent locally, it had a very ancient history, with a lineage that could be traced back to the Great Crusade era. Despite many hardships, the family had tenaciously survived and continued to this day.

Although the ancestors of the Alexei family had never held any important positions, the local nobles still respected this ancient bloodline, always allowing the family to remain in the upper-middle class of the hive.

However, by Sotha’s generation, their ancient family seemed to have reached a dead end; the only young heirs left were him and his cousin.

Therefore, although becoming a Space Marine was a very glorious thing for a family, for the poor Alexei family, it likely meant the severance of a bloodline that had continued for ten thousand years—Sotha’s cousin had always been in poor health, often leading people to doubt whether he could live to adulthood.

Over many years, Sotha’s father had told him countless times of the heavy responsibility he bore to continue the family line, and he would only listen silently, then throw himself even harder into his studies and training.

His mother had also wept in the dead of night, begging him to think of the descendants he might never have—the only hope for this ancient family.

Even though he was young at the time, his answer was this

"Everyone fears the darkness; who will stand to block it?"

People said he was a child who had matured too early. Some said he was too strange, and there were even rumors that Sotha might have heard the Emperor’s holy words or some kind of calling in the cathedral, but such rumors were quickly stifled by the local Ecclesiarchy.

But one thing was universally acknowledged: Sotha was not an ordinary child. He possessed some innate, extraordinary quality.

This quality brought him praise, and it brought him slander.

And he never explained himself to anyone.

Because he, with all his heart and soul, only wanted to become an Astartes.

But only Sotha himself knew that he was not truly hard-hearted, for when his parents bid him farewell, he cried.

He had become their pride, yet he had failed their expectations. As a son, he would never be able to fulfill his duties; as a descendant of a family, he would never be able to fulfill his familial responsibilities. The ancient bloodline would likely end here.

Years later, he would often think that this was probably the most important reason why a portion of his human emotions could remain.

But mortal emotions were the first thing one had to discard to become an Astartes.

Thinking of this, Sotha sighed inwardly. Although in principle he should not feel regret, he never deceived himself.

At this moment, he felt a trace of remorse.

The other boys sat in their buffer chairs, tightly bound by seatbelts, each staring straight ahead, as rigid as ancient statues.

They were trying to grow up, to become the warriors they aspired to be.

Sotha sat in the front row closest to the door, which meant he was seen by others as highly capable.

He knew his talent exceeded the vast majority of candidates, and he understood how jealousy could take root in the human heart. In the academy, he had encountered conflicts born of jealousy more than once.

Therefore, Sotha had always known to be cautious in his words and actions, avoiding anything that might make him appear arrogant or proud in the eyes of others.

Suddenly, the transport plane began to shake, which meant they were breaking free from the shackles of the atmosphere.

Sotha composed himself, suppressing his emotions.

Soon, the vibration ceased, and the ready light in the cabin turned red. The boys looked at each other in confusion.

"Are we there? That was too fast."

A faint voice whispered.

With a slow hiss, the cabin ramp opened, revealing the spaceport and, behind it, the planetary orbital station that Sotha had thought he would never see again in his life.

Simultaneously, three figures appeared outside the cabin door.

They were as tall as giants, and as they entered the cabin, every step echoed with a heavy thud.

Sotha blinked his eyes, which were aching from the change in air pressure. He could confirm that these were Space Marines, the guardians of humanity, the Emperor’s Angels of Death.

Clad in thick power armor, they were over two meters tall, and each fist was larger than the upper bodies of the boys.

The indicator lights dyed the cold plastisteel beneath their white tabards red. They wore no helmets, their indifferent eyes scanning the boys.

The trembling children blinked nervously at these giants, their facade of composure instantly shattered.

Sotha recognized their silver-gray power armor with blue accents, and the emblem of crossed swords on their shoulder pads. In front of the golden aquila on their chests, a long sash fluttered from their left shoulder to their cuffs. The helmets hanging at their waists featured special spear-shaped ornaments—this was the Honor Guard of the Astral Knights Chapter.

Every detail was quickly captured and etched into his mind; this was the power he was most proud of.

One of the Space Marines glanced at the data-slate in his left hand.

"Sotha Alexei?"

Nineteen boys looked at him simultaneously. Sotha did not speak to confirm his identity, but the Space Marine still raised his arm and pointed at him.

"You, come with us."

The Space Marine who spoke had a stern face with deep blue eyes, two service studs embedded in his forehead, and a prominent scar at the corner of his mouth.

Long after, Sotha would learn that he was the Captain of the Seventh Company—the company he would eventually join—Everich.

"What?"

Sotha had a bad premonition, but he still feigned composure.

"You come with us, now."

The Space Marine walked to Sotha’s side with a gloomy face, tore open his seatbelt, and half-dragged him from his seat. He felt the immense strength of a Space Marine for the first time, leaving him no possibility of resistance.

Moreover, in the current situation, resistance was extremely dangerous.

"But we are going to the Obsidian Fortress! Please tell me the reason for this!"

For a moment, Sotha finally failed to maintain his adult-like composure, though he persisted with his stubborn tone. But they did not give him a chance.

"Obey orders."

Before he could finish, cold metal pierced Sotha’s neck.

Feeling the chill on his skin, Sotha could make no further movement. His consciousness shattered along with his hopes, falling into an abyss of darkness...

"Ugh..."

I do not know how much time had passed, but with the swaying of his body, Sotha’s consciousness briefly revived for a moment.

But he felt cold, very cold, as if he were in an ice cellar.

At the same time, his temples were throbbing with pain. Although he did not yet know what it meant, he at least knew he was still alive.

Suddenly, a voice came from beside his ear.

"This is a good seed. His assessment grade is far above the passing parameter line. The Chapter Master will want this one."

It was a high-pitched voice with a slight nasal tone.

"That’s only if he survives the gray marrow."

The other voice was flat and indifferent, accompanied by the sound of metal clashing against a metal tray.

"Do you think he can hold on?"

The nasal voice spoke again.

"We’ll only know if we try."

The second voice sounded somewhat impatient.

"This specimen has high adaptability. Compared to the previous dozen or so, his success rate is the highest. If he still can't make it, we might just..."

Gradually, these voices became blurred, like drums on the horizon, seeming near and far.

A warm liquid was slowly being injected into his body, shattering his slightly revived consciousness once more. He fell back into an endless dream.

The future became an unpredictable fog, wrapping him tightly...