Warhammer: In the Name of Ashes

Have you ever experienced the feeling of being let go and waiting for a whole day but still not daring to leave? Or have you ever been under constant surveillance with guns and live ammunition, and even had someone accompany you when you went to the toilet?

Brayton tried it, and was suffering in this state. He swore that the noble blood flowing in his body had never made him suffer such humiliation since he was born.

At dusk, Terra's Government Office was already brightly lit.

According to past practice, if the executive meeting of the high lords needs to be postponed, then this should also be a relaxing moment for the Emperor's Shadows to rest and have a meal.

But today is obviously an exception.

Not only did the powerful Supreme Lords of Terra not show up at the meal, they revealed their future policies in an understated manner while changing cups and cups, and there was no order to deliver the food into the conference room.

On the contrary, since the arrival of several fighter planes from the throne room at noon, the rulers of the empire have not heard a single message from the room that determines the fate of the empire.

The strange and quiet atmosphere spread rapidly with the abnormal disappearance of the Terra lords.

And as this abnormality continued, the mortal institutions headed by the Imperial Administrative Council, the Military Command, the Imperial Senate, and the Imperial Navy Office in Terra also fell into some kind of "false busyness."

No one dares to leave at this time, even those who have no work at hand or have completed the handover of work.

But these nobles remained calm and maintained their order and dignity under certain established rules.

In the corridors of the Government Office, in the high-end restaurants on the commercial streets on the edge of the palace district, intelligence and information are secretly circulating in every corner and on the dining table;

And these channels also abide by the default "order". The local officials who come from out of town to meet with them and the local bureaucrats and nobles are like two distinct rivers, clearly distinguishable.

Some people may not be able to tell the difference between the two, but in the eyes of Terra natives, both groups have extremely obvious characteristics.

The former are gorgeously dressed, but due to the restriction of being far away from the cultural center, the specific clothing styles always look old-fashioned.

At this time, because of the lack of information, they were in a panic and overwhelmed by the sudden shutdown of the central government.

The latter's outfit may seem simple, but the details are full of extravagance. Often an inconspicuous cuff can be traced back to the era of strife, which is enough for the former to spend all their wealth to obtain it.

These local bureaucrats who are proficient in political affairs are more like a group of old fishermen. In the early stages of the storm's brewing, they have already smelled the smell of typhoon or blood from the salty tide.

What they are most concerned about at this time is who will win and who will lose in this fight, and which department will enjoy the policy dividends for decades or hundreds of years in the coming changes...

But they still misjudged the situation at this time.

Just like the emperor's golden hoe in the eyes of farmers, the situation in the conference room of Terra's Government Affairs Council was not the close-quarters confrontation they imagined.

On the contrary, stemming from the absolute sequence of rights, the high lords in the conference room were completely unable to resist the pressure from the Forbidden Army.

Because in a sense, they are the embodiment of the Emperor's will in the human world.

But the complexity of politics lies in the unpredictability of people's hearts, and even if they are as far-sighted as an emperor, they still cannot predict how the system he established will evolve after nearly ten thousand years.

The relationship between the high lords is never as simple as it appears to the outside world, and under tens of thousands of years of intertwining, even the most hostile forces will leave countless allusions over time. and tacit understanding.

In contrast, Mars' position is quite clear. The foundry generals of this generation are from traditional technocratic backgrounds. After just experiencing the disputes and beast wars in the Age of Apostasy, Mars is in urgent need of thousands of years of experience. Time to re-establish trust with Terra.

The relationship between the remaining forces is much more complicated, but they can still be roughly divided into several categories according to each other's interests and needs:

The real power faction headed by the Government Affairs Council, the neutral faction headed by the Star Language Tribunal, the transcendent faction headed by the Forbidden Army, and the restriction faction headed by the Tribunal.

Needless to say, the power of the Government Affairs Council.

Overview of everything in the empire, control of the empire's policies, personnel, and taxation, everywhere and everywhere is the most true portrayal of it.

If the High Lords of Terra are called the echoes and shadows of the Emperor, then the Chancellor, the head of the Imperial Council, is undoubtedly the loudest of all echoes.

It has two staunchest allies: the Imperial Navy and the Rogue Traders. Well, the Military Command actually counts as one.

As a typical asset-heavy and investment-heavy military service, the development of the former undoubtedly relies on the financial support of the Government Affairs Council.

After all, without the empire's endless tax revenue, the oil guys on Mars can't be fooled by just a word of dedication.

The latter is absolutely dependent on the Imperial Administration Council.

As a supplement to the commercial cycle of the empire's material circulation, all professional licenses and waterway access for the Rogue Traders, and even the channels for purchasing decommissioned warships from the navy, are firmly in the hands of the Imperial Administration.

The so-called county officials are not as good as the current management, and the essence of the rogue merchants is actually a white glove of the Government Affairs Council (extra fiscal and tax supplement).

The fact that they were able to flourish over these thousands of years and eventually occupy a place in the Terran Senate was in itself a manifestation of the overflow of power from the Government Affairs Department.

The Astra Militarum was in a rather awkward situation. On the one hand, they were restricted by the supply of the Administrative Council, and on the other hand, they relied on the warships of the Imperial Navy for inter-stellar mobilization.

In the context of the existence of the "Sun Lord", a strange thing that specialized in war, in the Imperial Senate, the Military Order was replaced by the last wartime power. Since the establishment of the Senate, they have hardly made their own voice.

The neutral faction was led by the Astronomican Court, which included the Astronomican Court, the Navigator Family Alliance, and the Imperial State Church.

Their characteristics were that on the one hand, they had no interest in the Imperial Armed Forces, and on the other hand, they each had resources that were indispensable and irreplaceable for the operation of the Empire.

And it happened that they were not short of money, so in the eyes of these neutral factions, no matter who came to power, they would still be treated with favor and tolerance as those whose status remained unchanged.

There was no need to say more about the Imperial Guards. Since the Great Rebellion ended and the Emperor was silent, these Eagle Guards blamed themselves for their own dereliction of duty, and the Webway War itself caused heavy losses to this powerful legion known as the "Ten Thousand Men" at its peak.

So since the beginning of the 32nd millennium, these emperor's guards have almost faded out of people's sight, just guarding the palace all year round and rarely going out.

But they are not doing nothing, or in other words, after a long rest and recovery, the former Ten Thousands of Men also wanted to find an opportunity to step out of the palace.

But they had to give up under the opposition of mortal bureaucrats headed by the Administrative Council. It's not that they don't want to, but they are just waiting for an opportunity.

The last faction is the Inquisition where Calvin is.

The restraining faction of the Inquisition is not large, only the Inquisition itself and the Assassin's Court, which has been questioned and is now unrecognizable.

As the name suggests, they were originally just a backup insurance to restrain the supreme power holder.

But in several major events experienced by the empire, there are always people who try to cross the boundaries of power and put individuals above the empire.

It is in these rescues that they have unknowingly developed into the behemoth they are today.

But the basic power base of the empire is limited, and even in the past thousands of years, it has been shrinking instead of growing.

Fixed financial and material resources are destined to be fought over by countless people, regardless of whether they are motivated by public interest or not. As this fight intensifies, the Inquisition, which is in charge of the empire's intelligence and special internal and external forces, is destined to have a fight with the Council of State, the leader of traditional forces.

This is the general trend, and it is also a self-cleansing of traditional forces by new forces when the empire adapts to the current situation.

Even if Calvin does not exist, it is destined to happen, it is just a matter of sooner or later.

——

The two guards of the Imperial Guards behind him have been standing for a full eight hours, and they will continue to stand according to this trend.

Breton tried to find a reason to leave, and also tried to let the secretary accompanying him pass on the message.

But the Imperial Guard Marshal Trajan on the opposite side sat as steady as a mountain, and completely ignored his intention. And facing the sharp model spears in the hands of the three-meter-tall Imperial Guards, his secretary did not dare to cross the line.

The Admiral also tried to leave on the pretext of defense, but after a staff officer came out of the door with a pale face, he lost the idea of ​​struggling:

Just two hours ago, all the battleships belonging to the Imperial Guards were unsealed and with the cooperation of the Imperial Fist, hundreds of Imperial Guards took over the naval defense of the entire solar system in the name of military exercises.

At the same time, the Imperial Guards and the Inquisition also carried out a surprise investigation of the official residences and subordinate departments of the three high lords...

The situation is over, and it's nothing more than how to die.

After similar thoughts flashed through the minds of several high lords with ulterior motives, the remaining high lords could not avoid grief.

The pressure Trajan felt in the conference hall was getting greater and greater. Several high lords were either gentle or harsh, but this hero with a legendary experience still held his post and did not move no matter how other high lords put pressure on him.

The Admiral was the first to be unable to bear the long torture. His fat body slumped on the seat like a dead man, and sweat kept flowing down his greasy face. He didn't even care that the rank woven with golden silk thread on his collar was wet.

The face of the wandering trader was deep and gloomy, but his eyes were wandering and he didn't know what he was thinking. As the least powerful party in the three-person alliance, it would not be surprising if he was the first to be abandoned in the struggle later.

Breton, the chief minister of the Administrative Council, sat quietly in his seat and fell into a long thought. He was also wondering how much evidence the Tribunal had, and what he could do for the other party after Calvin arrived...

At this time, Calvin's Thunder Eagle had just arrived above the Administrative Council under the protection of the fleet.

Empty! Empty! Empty! Empty!

The heavy steel boots of the power armor made a dull sound on the thick carpet of the Administrative Council. Calvin's figure appeared in the corridor of the Administrative Council building complex under the protection of the Honor Guard and the Imperial Guards.

The people on the scheduled route had been evacuated in advance. In the quiet corridors and palaces, apart from the friction of the power armor parts, there was only the low-frequency noise of the servo driving the electromagnetic muscles.

In the dim light in the distance, there were vague eyes looking behind the colored gem glass windows, but under the psychic aura of Calvin, this was a group of normal Astartes and Guardsmen.

"Have you got the evidence?" Calvin asked Nicholas in the communication channel without stopping.

"I have got it."

The shield captain behind him compared the results of the raid on the Chief Secretary's residence with the documents sent from the Antarctic direction, and then sent the highlighted results to Calvin's personal terminal.

The latter glanced at the received documents on his pupil, but stayed for a long time on the words marked in scarlet in several places later.

"...Another cult?" The original body's brows frowned slightly, but the corners of his mouth turned up abnormally.

The honor guards who were familiar with him looked at each other:

The angrier the angrier, the brighter the smile. This is the classic expression of the original body's power to kill...

Cold thunder brewed deep in the original body's pupils, but the equivalent was the understatement in Calvin's tone:

"Order Antarctica to check his background information and make a list of family members. Well, no direct lineage!"

"Yes." Nicholas nodded, with no expression on his face but in his heart he had already sentenced this family to death.

The group of people continued to move forward until they reached the door of the conference hall in the depths of the Government Council. The Imperial Guard stationed outside the gate had already been notified and pushed open the door as soon as they saw Calvin and others.

People in the hall followed the sound and looked towards the door, just in time to see Calvin, who was wearing armor and terrifying, more than 4 meters tall, walked straight to the Chief of Political Affairs Breton with the cold wind outside, looking down at him word by word. said:

"Sinner, your end has come!"

Updated, but no more votes.

I have written, deleted, and written. From the time I sat down in the morning until now, I have tried my best. In the name of the throne, good night everyone!