A Declaration of Separation

He didn't move. Other members twitched. Forced mouths to stay shut. Fists clenched as the words washed over them.

Not him. He was a statue of nobility and control. As rage and shocked flashed through the eyes of the others, he waited as though he was listening to the morning report.

Malcador saw differently.

Alexandros' aura burned as a growing fire of betrayal and fury. Yet, not surprise. Of the individuals in the room, only the two of them did not react to the news without foresight. The reports of growing distance hadn't alert the others. Why would they? The galaxy seemed to grow more fragile by the day as perfidy after perfidy scarred them all. Only ten years had passed since the Riven had revealed their utter corruption, and the xeno automatons had scythed through nine sectors. The physical damages may be fading, but the hidden wounds continued to fester.

"It is our deepest wish that the High Regent and the Council of Terra respect and work with us to ensure a peaceful transition. None of us harbour any ill will and invite these august bodies to support their kin, both in blood and in spirit, to celebrate these new step of Humanity's progress. It is with hearts full of wonder and eyes looking forward that we step into a new, glorious future," the transhuman messenger said as he finished reading the declaration. He added the names of the four Primarchs who had dared to demand Terra submit to their rebellion.

*A moment of silence slid over the room as the last name lingered.*

Then Lord Militant Lexin Hexanius of the Imperial Army slammed his fist on the Council tower. "Those traitorous bastards!" The room promptly exploded with energy and noise as the various members yelled at the messenger, with each other, or just at the room as each reacted and attempted to make sense of what they had heard.

Four entire legions had declared their rebellion against the Silver Throne. Not one, not two, but four.

After the loss of the Shadow Warriors and the corruption of the Riven, only sixteen legions stood at Humanity's behest. Now, a full quarter of their number had outright abandoned their oaths of loyalty to the Imperium. As horrific as the earlier losses had been, they had been isolated cases. Especially in regards to the Shadow Warriors, they haven’t even turn their backs on the rest of humanity. This move was unprecedented as the cause was not corruption or mistake but political. In a way, it worsen things and opened a new question of loyalty that none in this room wanted to contemplate.

To compound the misery, it would not be only legions going rogue. Tenzin was the current Administrator-Master of Pacificus. Who knew how many mortals, whether they be average citizen or Army generals had been subverted to this treachery. The entire segmentum might be in open revolt in just a few months. Where else might this new sedition spread?

**"Enough."**

The empowered word smashed through the arguing cacophony and yanked the High Lords' attention to the High Regent. Alexandros fixed his eyes on the messenger. Maxmilian Jovanovi was the Godslayers Equerry. "Do you have any other words for us?"

The last time the two had spent time together had been at Koschei's wedding. Both of them could recall fond memories of celebration. The fact that the High Regent had not used Jovanovi's name was too obvious to be lost on the diplomatically trained members of the room. The High Regent may have retained his composure, but his displeasure had been given a small reveal. "None other than that, High Regent," Maximilian answered. "What I say now is little more than speculation, but I don't believe I am out of line to suggest that Lord Kharkovic would wish me to reiterate that he desires nothing more than peace."

"Peace!" Grand Provost Hammer snarled, his grey eyes molten. "They beg for peace after violating their most sacred oaths!"

The Equerry ignored the Grand Provost as he focused his attention on the High Regent. "What answer shall I take back to my lord?"

"None."

Righteous indignation flickered across Jovanovi's face but only for a moment before the tranquil mask returned to its place. That discipline was less obvious in his retort. "You intend to send no word at all, High Regent?"

"Better than that, we should incarcerate you and your ship," Hexanius declared. "High Regent," he began as his gaze bored into Alexandros. "At this moment, we should treat these traitors as enemy combatants and immediately mobilise for war!"

"I am here as a diplomatic envoy," Maximilian testily reminded the Lord Militant. "By law, I cannot be held for bringing tidings and returning with them."

"You are a subversive and a high-ranking enemy officer," Hexanius shot back. "Were it not for the intelligence stored within your mind, I would have you executed on the spot." He threw a glance at Captain-General Vilaccan. The Custodian's eyes never wavered from the Godslayer since he had entered the chamber.

Alexandros watched the display for a moment longer before turning to Malcador. "How long would it take for the Red Eyes, the Iron Revenants, the Obsidian Guard, the Dune Serpents, and the World Shakers to mobilise for a campaign in Pacificus?"

The Sigillite answered, "Given their deployments, the Obsidian Guard will learn of this first, but either the Shakers or the Revenants will be able to react sooner. At most, I would estimate no more than eight months before their fleets would arrive."

Hexanius wore a triumphant, bloodthirsty grin, which deflated at the High Regent's next words. Alexandros stood as he announced, "You will bring no word from me, Equerry, for I myself will have words with my brothers. You will travel alongside my flagship. I too hope for a peaceful resolution, but it will be own my terms. Otherwise, I fear a few of my kin will not be as... measured when they hear of this betrayal."