Chapitre 28: Astartes Monatery
"What?!" Darius's hands shook, and the car swerved dangerously again. This time, Kayvaan grabbed the wheel, steadying it. "You—you're not serious! You're saying you can't—"
"I'll explain when we get home," Kayvaan interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. "I don't want to die in a car crash, okay?"
The next day, Kayvaan declined Darius's offer to show him around Terra. He wasn't in the mood for sightseeing—not when his own future was so uncertain. Besides, Terra wasn't exactly a tourist haven anymore. The planet had been transformed into a sprawling political and religious megacity, stripped of its natural beauty. Mountains had been leveled, seas drained, and every corner of the planet was covered in towering buildings, orderly streets, and ornate sculptures.
Instead, Kayvaan had Darius take him to the Terra headquarters of the Space Marines. Their destination was an ancient monastery perched atop a colossal skyscraper.
To Darius, the sight was almost surreal. A medieval-style monastery, complete with stone arches and stained-glass windows, sat atop a gleaming, ultramodern skyscraper. It looked as though someone had plucked the monastery from a serene mountain landscape and awkwardly placed it in the middle of a futuristic city. The clash of classical and modern styles was bizarre, to say the least.
"This… this is the Terra headquarters of the Space Marines," Darius said, his voice trembling with excitement. "I've only ever seen pictures of it in magazines. This is the holy ground for warriors across the Empire. The Astartes Monastery! I can't believe I'm actually here. This is a blessing from the Emperor himself!"
"So, this is the famous Astartes Monastery." Kayvaan stood at the entrance, looking up at the towering structure. A strange mix of emotions churned within him as he took in the sight. It was awe-inspiring, yes, but also deeply unsettling. A place like this wasn't just a building—it was a symbol of everything that now bound him. The world Kayvaan once knew was gone, replaced by something unrecognizably different.
"Hey, you two! What are you doing standing around here?" A towering man, nearly three meters tall and built like a fortress, approached them. Clad in a monk's robe, his tone carried a sharp edge of reproach. "Don't you know the festival is over? Civilians are only allowed here during special events. This area is off-limits to the public otherwise. And how did you even get this far? What are the guards down there doing?"
"We're not here for a sightseeing trip," Darius replied calmly. "Master Kayvaan and I are here to handle the formalities for creating the Space Marine Corps."
"You… what did you just say you're here to create?"
"The Space Marine Corps," Darius repeated, emphasizing each word. "We're here to complete the necessary procedures."
The guard squinted at them skeptically. "Well, yes, the procedures are handled here. But let me make this clear—procedures for something as important as forming a corps can't just be handled by any random people. You two look like civilian staff, and you're not even allowed inside. These matters have to be dealt with personally by the leader of the corps."
"This man, Lord Kayvaan Shrike, is the leader of the Space Marine Corps," Joe said, gesturing towards Lee. "So, can we go in now?"
The guard blinked at them in disbelief, then burst into laughter. "Are you joking? Him? Listen, I don't know which noble family you crawled out of, but let me remind you If you're trying to stir up trouble, you won't like how it ends. Now, go find somewhere else to play."
He reached out to push them away, but before his hand made contact, Kayvaan moved. His hand darted out like a striking snake, clamping onto the guard's wrist. With a smooth, almost effortless motion, he pulled and flipped the giant guard over his head. The man's massive body soared through the air and slammed onto the ground with a heavy thud.
Kayvaan turned back towards the iron door as if nothing had happened, pulling a rope that rang a clear, resonant bell. The guard, still sprawled on the ground, lay there blinking up at the blue sky. His mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. One moment he'd been standing his ground, and the next, he was flying through the air like a piece of discarded paper. His entire body felt weightless during the throw. How had this shorter, leaner man—barely over 1.75 meters—managed such a feat? Was it magic? Some kind of psychic ability? He had no answers.
Even Darius, who had witnessed the whole thing, was stunned. His gaze flicked between Kayvaan and the guard. It made no sense. This wasn't brute strength—it was something else entirely. The bell's chime shattered the tense silence, snapping the guard out of his daze. Embarrassment and anger flashed across his face as he scrambled to his feet. Roaring in indignation, he jumped at Kayvaan.
Before he could close the distance, the iron door creaked open, and a deep, commanding voice echoed out. "What's going on here?"
The guard froze mid-step, his expression shifting to panic. "Captain! These two tried to force their way in, and… and he attacked me!"
A massive figure stepped out from the shadows of the monastery, into the sunlight. He was even taller than the first guard, towering over three meters, with a terrifying scar slashing across his face from left to right, splitting his visage into two distinct halves. His voice was low and gravelly, like the rumble of an old engine. "You're telling me two ordinary civilians overpowered you?"
The guard, McCain, stammered. "It… it wasn't like that. I let my guard down for a second, and he… he attacked me!"
The captain cut him off with a roar that seemed to shake the ground. "Enough! Stand at attention!"
McCain snapped to attention, his face burning red with humiliation, though his eyes still glared at Kayvaan. The captain loomed over him, his scorn palpable. "Let me get this straight. You were taken down by someone you're calling an 'ordinary civilian.' Then, instead of recovering your dignity, you decided to attack from behind? McCain, where is your honor? You've embarrassed yourself."
McCain looked as though he wanted to argue, but the captain silenced him with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. Turning his attention to Kayvaan and Darius, the captain's tone shifted, though it was no less stern. "Now, as for you two. It takes some guts to cause a commotion here. Care to explain yourselves?"
"My friend and I came here on official business," Kayvaan said evenly. "We were blocked without reason, and I defended myself when the guard overstepped. Also, you might want to reconsider your choice of words. 'Causing a commotion' doesn't apply here."
The captain's lips curled into a faint smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Blocked without reason? This is the Astartes Monastery. Official business here is handled by 'Astartes monks.' Civilians—no matter who they claim to be—don't just waltz in uninvited. So tell me, what makes you think you belong here?"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone