40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 831, Section 2: The Beginning - Interrogation Report (Part Two)
Grand Judge: You've arrived quickly.

Primarch Vograim: (Silence)

Grand Inquisitor: Do you wish to interrogate him personally?
Primarch Forgrim: I wouldn't do that, I would just kill him.

Grand Judge: Understood.

Primarch Forgrim (breathing heavily): Besides, if I were to appear before him, you probably wouldn't get anything of value out of him.

Grand Judge: If I really want to know, it doesn't really matter whether he speaks or not, is that right?
Primarch Vograim (nods)
Grand Judge: Okay.

(The clerk and the Grand Inquisitor entered Interrogation Room Two together, while Primarch Vograim remained outside, observing the interrogation through the one-way glass.)
The prisoner (looking up in surprise): My lord? Lord Caril?

Grand Judge: It's a miracle you could recognize me. I thought you were blind.

Prisoner (with a wry smile): I'm afraid I'm not, sir.

Grand Inquisitor: Then you are simply stupid, otherwise I really can't understand why you did that on Vengeful Spirit.

Prisoner (his expression becomes blank): I
The Grand Inquisitor (raising his hand to signal him to stop): Enough, there's no need to discuss this anymore. Let's change the subject. Do you know that you were brought here by Alpharis?

Prisoner: Yes, sir. He told me he planned to turn himself in and take me with him.

Grand Judge: You have no objection to this?

Prisoner: No.

Grand Inquisitor: The reason?
The prisoner (after a moment of contemplation): I cannot understand the meaning behind his actions, nor his thoughts. Even trying to guess would give me a headache for days. I do not have the energy to waste, sir. For millennia, I have spent most of my time in the laboratory, and being distracted by his affairs would only slow down my research.

The Grand Judge (with an unconscious sneer): So, you don't care at all whether your business partner has malicious intentions? You don't even care where he will lead you?

Prisoner: I know he's loyal, unlike me, and that's enough.

Grand Judge: Is that so? How can you be so sure about this?

Prisoner (long silence):
Grand Inquisitor: I repeat myself, Fabius Bayer, how did you determine this?
Prisoner (whispering, almost in a daze): I can't be sure. But my Primarch taught us to pay more attention to a person's actions than their words. As far as I know, every action Alpharis and his small army have taken over these ten thousand years has had a positive impact on the Imperium, even some of the raids I've had to participate in.

Grand Inquisitor: Benign? Ha. Let's talk about the looting first.

Prisoner: There's really nothing to talk about, sir. It's like what every traitorous Astartes Warband does—choose weak, uninhabited, or remote outlying worlds, then strike, infiltrate, kidnap governors or other high-ranking officials, threaten them, get what you want, and then leave.

Grand Inquisitor: What use is it for you to participate in this kind of mission?
Prisoner: I asked Alpharis the same question, but he just insisted that I travel with his army or he would kill me. I had no choice, sir.

Grand Inquisitor: So how exactly did his army behave during the looting?

The prisoner (sighing, seemingly disbelieving his own words): They were disciplined, just like the Astartes during the Legion era. I didn't see anyone indiscriminately killing innocents or deliberately sabotaging anything. From beginning to end, their actions were covert, swift, and purposeful. Once the objective was determined, there were no unexpected complications; even if something changed along the way, they would immediately retreat.

Grand Inquisitor: You mean that Alpharis's legions have turned into a professional, money-grubbing gang over these ten thousand years?
Prisoner (seemingly wanting to laugh): That description is quite apt, sir.

Grand Inquisitor: Interesting. So, what do they usually rob? Supplies? Technology? People?
Prisoners: Most of the time it's supplies, but not supplies needed by the Astartes; they seem more like provisions for mortals. I asked why several times, but no one answered, though I noticed they didn't take much. Only on a few missions were their targets some Mechanicus priests.

Grand Judge: Which times?

Prisoner (recalling): As far as I know, there were seven times when they copied the priests' research findings or seized technology that had already entered the trial production stage and showed it to me. If there were no problems, then the mission was successfully completed.

Grand Inquisitor: These priests are all specialists in biology, aren't they?
Prisoner: Yes, sir.

Grand Inquisitor: In other words, their targets are either ordinary people's daily necessities or biotechnology that might be of some help to you.

Prisoner: At least that's how it was in the missions I was involved in.

Grand Inquisitor: Don't you find it strange, Fabius Bayer? What would a traitorous warband do such a thing? And what forces support them within the Eye of Fear without being targeted by other warbands?
Prisoner: I'm afraid my position within the Alpha Legion doesn't allow me to raise any questions or know anything about these things, sir. I'm merely a tool he imprisoned and controls, my primary purpose being to conduct biotechnology research for him.

Grand Judge: You've absolved yourself of all responsibility.

Prisoner: I had no such intention. I know what I've done in the past, and I know that he will use my research findings to invade the world of the Empire, such as Sosa.
(The Grand Judge suddenly changed his posture, forcing the prisoner to stop speaking.)
Grand Judge: You'd better think carefully about what you're about to say.

Prisoner (taking a deep breath): I will not argue on this point. Facts are facts. Even if you execute me right now, I will have no objection. This is the punishment I deserve. However, sir, I hope you can at least hear me explain the specific research I have conducted over the past ten thousand years.

Grand Judge: I'll only give you ten minutes.

(He pulled out a knife and placed it on the table.)
Prisoner (taking another deep breath): I cannot precisely summarize my research directions; they are far too complex, but fortunately, the results are not. My research achievements are mainly threefold. First, I have found a way to treat or alleviate the genetic defects of the major legions. Second, following the Emperor's ideas, I designed two enhancements that can strengthen the existing Astartes' constitution and fall under the category of gene-modification surgery. Third, I have developed a widely applicable gene-adjustment technology that can be performed during the embryonic stage without causing any adverse effects. The lifespan of the recipient will be significantly increased compared to normal people, while their physical fitness and intelligence will be comprehensively enhanced. Furthermore, they will also possess a certain degree of resistance to the warp.

(After he finished speaking, he fell silent.)
Grand Inquisitor: These things you've presented are very tempting, Fabius Bayer. However, setting aside whether they actually work properly, I'd like to know more about your research into them—

The prisoner (suddenly interrupting him): —I've killed many people, sir. I've said I won't defend myself; I have no need, nor do I want to. I am a sinner, but my research is different. Like every scientific advancement in human history, those who invent or discover them may be utterly wicked, but they will undoubtedly benefit many.

The Grand Inquisitor (gazing intently, then nodding): I have one last question for you.

Prisoner: Please speak.

Grand Inquisitor: What are your thoughts on what happened with the Soul of Vengeance back then?

Prisoner: I deserve to die.

Grand Judge: Is this repentance?

Prisoner: No, no, I'm not qualified.

Grand Judge: Very good.

(He stood up.)
Prisoner: All my research results are in my lab, sir. There's no password, and I've disabled the security procedures. You can take everything as soon as you go in.

High Inquisitor: I understand. (He walks to the interrogation room, pushes open the door, and Primarch Vograim strides inside.)
(The prisoner was distraught, yet seemed to have expected this.)

Primarch of the Gene, Vograim: Bayer.

Prisoner: Primitive.
Primarch Fugrim: You are unforgivable.

Fabius Bayer: Yes.

(Primarch Vograim draws his sword.)
Primarch Fugram: They are waiting for you.

(Fabius Bayer lowered his head, sobbing uncontrollably.)
(A flash of sword light.) —
"You have to come to Chemos."

Standing in the empty, spacious, pure silver laboratory, Khalil held a communicator and spoke to a bulky, enormous figure on the other end, bathed in the soft blue light emanating from the projector.

“My dear sir, please forgive me, I’m attending a meeting on Mars right now,” Belisarius Caul said quietly over the communicator. “There are four sages standing on the stage right now, sharing their different designs for Imperial standard equipment and weapons. I can’t leave now.”

"Why? You suddenly like their designs again? I remember you once said that their designs were all garbage."

“What?” Caul immediately shook his head. “I absolutely did not say that, sir.”

His figure suddenly blurred, and several different faces flashed by in the projection—the Martian sages, Caul's mortal enemies, friends, and rivals.

They first bowed to Khalil, and then a rapid-fire argument broke out between them and Caul.

Khalil listened patiently for a while and found that what could be described as a 'heated discussion of academic issues' at the beginning quickly turned into a real personal attack.

He realized that he had to speak up and call a halt, otherwise, based on past experience, there was a 90% chance they would start fighting immediately.

"Stop, stop for a moment, everyone." His expression had become somewhat weary. "Could you please refrain from engaging in friendly academic exchange at this time?"

"Lord Caril is right."

One of the sages, who seemed to have undergone little modification and still maintained a slender female figure, agreed with him in a hoarse voice.

"We should discuss just how utterly awful Belisarius Kaul's design really is after the meeting."

"Unacceptable? My designs are unacceptable?!" Kaul roared immediately. "Every one of my designs is genius-level, unlike yours, PI-4!"

"Oh, really?" The sage with the numerical designation suddenly sneered. "Then please explain those recent armor usage reports from various warbands. Why are over 72% of our combat comrades saying they don't want to take off their power armor at all? Isn't that a flaw?"

"Ha, you should focus on that crappy light gun you designed first!"

Kaul completely ignored this unfavorable situation and immediately retorted sharply.

"Excuse me, what kind of person would install such powerful firepower on the weapons issued to the rank-and-file guards? Are they going to fight insects or orcs? Why don't you take a look at the huge logistical expenses of the worlds that received your weapons? Or are you doing this on purpose, just to make more money for your forging world?"

"You sharp-tongued, twisted-the-truth bastard!" the PI-4 sage roared, several blue-glowing shadows suddenly appearing behind him. "I'm going to tear you apart!"

"Then come!"

“…Karl, come to Chermos right now. I don’t want to say it again,” Khalil said helplessly as he intervened between them.

"But sir—"

"Get out of here immediately!" Khalil raised his voice unusually, almost roaring. "If you don't come, I'll hand over this data to someone else to study!"

He hung up immediately after he finished speaking.

Kaul called back half a minute later, but Khalil was too lazy to bother with him anymore. He simply blocked him, muted the communicator, and tossed it into his pocket.

He walked around the laboratory for a while, observing the massive machinery, the empty culture tanks, and the large operating table. He didn't see any vengeful spirits, which meant that Fabius Bayer most likely hadn't forced the experimental subjects. Or perhaps, their souls had already been devoured within the Eye of Fear.

Neither of these is actually a good thing.

He stopped and slowly put on his wide-brimmed hat, the eagle cufflink on his right sleeve reflecting a pale light. He glanced at it and saw his blurred face reflected in it, as well as another person standing silently behind him.

A gaunt ghost.

“I didn’t kill him back then, I only killed a double,” Conrad Coates said slowly.

"I know."

"However, he and his double died at almost the same time."

Khalil turned to look at him: "You didn't mention this."

“Because I couldn’t be completely sure about this until today, I had to pretend I really killed him. That makes me feel better, after all, back then he was just a simple traitor, but now…” Conrad Coates smiled faintly. “I’m afraid we can’t say for sure.”

Khalil walked past him and replied calmly, "The interrogation isn't over yet. You can say that after I finish this interrogation report."

“Father,” Koz suddenly called out to him.

"what's up?"

Have you considered the worst-case scenario?

Khalil didn't answer, but simply walked out of the now-abandoned laboratory. Behind him, the shadow gradually disappeared.

(End of this chapter)