MTLNOVEL Chapter 20: chapter 20
Chapter 20: Why We Fight
In the Global Museum, the empty rooms were already crowded with people seeking refuge.
These civilians, who had been building their homes with great anticipation just a few days ago, were now huddled together in fear, trying to draw strength and warmth from one another.
Even strangers held each other tightly in this moment. Numbers brought a small measure of psychological comfort, a legacy of biological instincts from the distant past.
Calth was an emerging planet, with most of its population having migrated from other parts of the Five Hundred Worlds.
To develop this fertile land, Guilliman had promised favorable conditions—everyone who came here could claim their own land and freely pursue the career of their choice.
In many ways, Calth was the new frontier of the Five Hundred Worlds, a place where dreamers came to make their aspirations a reality.
The people of the Five Hundred Worlds enjoyed far better living conditions than the citizens of the Empire in other star regions. Most of the time, war was a distant concept to them; many would live their entire lives without ever encountering it.
But now, their peace had been shattered, and war had come, bringing death with it.
War does not discriminate—it kills without regard for gender, age, or station.
In fact, most of the civilians here were children and the elderly. The young and strong, those still capable of fighting, had been temporarily conscripted into the auxiliary army.
With the 61st Company of Numinas, who had arrived alongside Bucky and the others, serving as the core, these conscripts were given laser rifles, high-energy grenades, and basic armor.
A war cannot be fought by Space Marines alone—especially a war of annihilation like this one. A large number of mortal auxiliary forces, along with the superstitious cultists loyal to the Word Bearers, were also wreaking havoc across Calth, slaughtering its people without mercy.
They butchered civilians, using their blood, flesh, organs, and bones as sacrifices in grotesque rituals meant to appease the dark entities they worshipped.
In reality, the Word Bearers' Space Marines focused their efforts on battling the Ultramarines, their sworn enemies, while most of the civilian casualties came at the hands of the cultists.
But the people of Calth would not sit idly by.
"Even if I die, I will take a piece of the enemy with me."
An old woman held a child, no older than four or five. The boy, too young to understand the world, clung to his grandmother as he watched the wailing, praying, and weeping crowd with anxious, fearful eyes.
At an innocent age, he was already being forced to learn how to face the harsh, brutal reality of war.
Next to them lay a pregnant woman. Her husband had taken up arms to protect his family, while she had remained here.
Suddenly, the weary woman clutched her abdomen, letting out a low, pained cry.
"Grandma, is Aunt Elena about to have her baby? She sounds like she's in pain," the child asked. Though young, he knew enough to recognize when a pregnant woman was close to giving birth.
"Help me... help me..." Elena whimpered.
The old woman placed her grandson down, doing her best to remain calm and rational. She knelt beside Elena and, with a kind and gentle expression, tried to comfort her.
"It's okay. Take a deep breath and relax. Your baby will be here soon."
The people around them immediately cleared space. They gathered whatever clothes and blankets they could find to make a makeshift bed for Elena to lie on.
Blood and amniotic fluid flowed freely. Her screams grew weaker, yet the baby had not yet been born.
She was experiencing a difficult labor.
In peacetime, such complications could be solved with a cesarean section at a hospital. But now, with no doctors or medical facilities available, it had become a life-threatening ordeal.
Elena screamed in agony. The baby was in an abnormal position and could not be delivered naturally.
Though the old woman had experience delivering babies, she lacked the necessary tools. She could only hold Elena's hand, encouraging her and guiding her through the pain. But beyond that, there was nothing she could do.
"Can anyone help? Emperor, she is dying!"
The baby's head had yet to appear. Elena's cries were growing fainter.
The child clamped his hands over his mouth, trying not to cry. As he looked around, he noticed a man in a distinctive uniform with noble, fair features stepping toward them.
A faint scent of jasmine and greenery surrounded him, bringing an inexplicable sense of calm.
"Bucky, we need help here!" Tess shouted.
Hearing this, an imposing warrior clad in dark green power armor strode toward them.
He was like a moving fortress. With each heavy step, his armor thudded against the ground. The crowd instinctively parted in fear and reverence. He was an angel of the Emperor, a demigod warrior.
The Salamander Apothecary did not fight on the front lines, but that did not make his role any less vital. He tended to wounded battle-brothers, injured mortals, and the countless civilians in need of medical care.
Bucky had sent some medical supplies and tools from the starship in orbit. There were miraculous medicines and devices aboard the ship's STC, but there were simply too many wounded. Even if he worked nonstop, he could not save them all.
Tess gently lifted the laboring woman onto a makeshift operating table. His power pack extended several small scalpels and mechanical arms.
After administering anesthesia, his scanner analyzed Elena's physiological data, displaying the information on his helmet's screen.
The onlookers, initially filled with fear, watched in awe as the Emperor's angel worked with the precision of a skilled doctor.
It turned out that these warriors were capable of more than just battle.
Without hesitation, the Salamander Apothecary made a swift incision in the woman's abdomen. After disinfecting the area, his mechanical arms expertly maneuvered, removing layers of tissue while another instrument carefully suctioned out amniotic fluid and blood.
In less than ten minutes, a baby girl—still covered in vernix caseosa—lay in the cradle. Her umbilical cord was neatly cut and tied.
Tess held the newborn in one palm. When she did not immediately cry, he gently tapped the soles of her feet.
A loud wail pierced the air, announcing her arrival into the world.
"Hold the baby while I finish closing the wound," Tess instructed, placing the infant in Bucky's arms.
He then carefully stitched Elena's abdomen, layer by layer, using absorbable sutures before applying a sterilizing gel to aid healing.
"Praise the Emperor! A child is born!"
"A miracle!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. They rejoiced at this beautiful moment, grateful that a mother and child who had been on the brink of death had been saved by the Emperor's angels.
Even in the midst of war, even in the darkest of times, the people of Calth felt the Ultramarines' protection—whether on the battlefield or in acts of mercy.
An indescribable emotion spread through the gathered civilians.
Bucky felt it, too.
A sense of belonging. A connection.
The immortal warrior, displaced from time by ten thousand years, held a sleeping newborn in his arms. He felt his blood surge with an unfamiliar warmth.
This child, these people…
They shared the same blood.
For the first time in a long while, he felt the urge to weep.
As Elena awoke, she desperately searched for her child. Bucky stepped forward, carefully handing her the baby.
"Everyone will survive," he said, placing his hand over his chest. "Believe me."
Elena said nothing. She held her child close, instinctively cradling her to breastfeed. But tears streamed down her face—whether from fear or gratitude, Bucky could not tell.
But in this moment, he finally understood why he was fighting.
(End of chapter)