When Mason told me that writing a log would help me weigh all this stress, I didn't take him seriously. But who sees me now? Drowning my boredom in this little book that is nothing more than a mere diary. I'm not going to fool anyone by calling it a log or anything similar.

If I think about it with enough sense of humor, I look like those girls at the academy.

I still remember myself a couple of years ago. That enthusiastic young man who entered Proginion School with peculiar enthusiasm. One who believed he would become a hero and save this empire. What an idiot. If I could travel back in time I would slap myself.

My qualities and passion for order did not go unnoticed. And in less than a year at the Academy, I was already studying and preparing to become a War Comisarie. Those brave men in charge of maintaining the discipline of a battalion or regiment. Valuate martiality... What idiocy. All to end on a forgotten planet.

Cantus is no worse than the places in this galaxy I've been to. The training in Vilomer is something that I personally don't want to remember. I almost lost the fingers of my right hand from frostbite.

However... I can't fool myself. Two years on a planet where not even the fauna itself represents a danger is even boring. How naïve was I, believing that I would now be commanding a crack division, fighting face to face against dirty xenos or those damned heretics? Purging this empire of the evils that stalk it. What would my self from four years ago think if he saw me now?

Well... I can't do anything to change my destiny. Not at least until I complete my 5 years of service in this detachment. One more year, and I may have better luck.

When I was informed that I would be assigned to the 163rd Cantus Defense Regiment, I felt extremely energized. I had never heard of that planet, but given the seriousness of the matter I assumed it was something important. What a surprise I was when I realized that the name of the detachment had more letters than soldiers inside it.

The 163 was mere decoration. In reality, it was a single vanguard of barely 100 planetary defense soldiers. 100 soldiers to defend an entire world. At first I thought it was a bad joke, but I soon learned that it had been like this for centuries.

Cantus. A planet with a single city. A population that barely reached 5 million inhabitants, and billions of servants to till the fields.

My arrival on this planet went as unnoticed as a snowflake in an ice storm. I remember that when I got off the ship that was transporting me to the hangars, I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. No one was there to welcome me, even though my title was not something that was not taken seriously. But there I was. Alone with a suitcase and surrounded by servers who couldn't answer my questions. This place seemed more like a place of punishment than an agricultural world.

Then, after approximately two minutes, the aforementioned welcome arrived. A single guy dressed as a mechanic and covered in grease up to his ears. One who, to my ironic amazement, didn't look particularly happy to see me.

When he reached me he asked my name, with a somewhat raised tone considering the uniform he was wearing. Although the impression he gave me at first forced me to respond as if he had a greater position than me.... When the reality was very different.

The mysterious Mason... Talking about him is quite a feat. Even after 4 years of living with him, I think there are hundreds of things I don't know. He's good at his job, yes. Maybe the best of all of us, but talking to him about anything other than engines is complicated.

A curious subject. Dark skinned and facial features much more pronounced than mine. You could rarely see him happy, surely something bothers him, but he never talks about his past. I assume he is around 30 years old or a little older. Although sometimes he is usually wiser than he appears. 

From Mason himself I learned that my arrival was not announced... Something that at this point was no longer a surprise to me.

I wasn't surprised by his words, after all, that was an idea that was already floating around in my head. Still, I preferred to reject his offer to carry my luggage as politely as I could, since his hands were anything but clean. Back then I still had some of the etiquette I learned at the academy. Caim would be laughing at me right now if he could see me... He asked me what that bum is doing right now. Has he gotten that position in the paradise world he always wanted?... He will probably never know.

The one who was now in front of me responded to the name of Mason. Who introduced himself as my personal assistant. In a way I could understand his bad temper, because I wouldn't be happy either to be informed that in half an hour I would be the servant of someone I have never met.

At the moment, my greatest interest was knowing where I would spend the rest of the nights from that day on. Taking into account everything I had seen, I didn't have a very good feeling, but unfortunately for me, my suspicions were well founded.

Mason led me through the endless streets...on foot. My suitcase wasn't exactly light, and in Mason's own words, the available transportation vehicles were heavily used for agricultural work. What a welcome.

Once we arrived at the compound that was called a room, I was able to leave my things to go see the planetary governor and the general in command. Two guys who wouldn't be able to run for their lives if a catastrophe occurred. Obesity was a characteristic of several high-ranking officers within the military, but this in particular was above average and by far. I guess the side effects of too much food.

Governor Carsin Vilonavig of Kondeforsa. It was impossible not to learn his name, because every time he appeared, a server had to pronounce his full name. Calling him pompous would be an insult to the word, but at least he knew how to do his job... At least there were rumors that Cantus has never been late in paying his dues to the empire. And that in itself is something impressive.

General Purshok. A whole character. The only reason he carried the rank of general was because the highest military authority on a planet had to carry that rank by law. Although having a hundred soldiers under his command, and most of the time they acted as mechanics or peasants, left a lot to say. He never actually reached the rank of Lieutenant, but at his advanced age this was a retirement that even I would desire.

To tell the truth, I am not surprised by so little military presence in this world. After all, we have three fortress planets hanging around the outskirts of the solar system, so it wouldn't take a week for reinforcements to arrive. I don't even want to imagine it... But I don't think I can forgive my father if he uses his influence to send me somewhere far from the front.

Just thinking that I would spend the rest of my days locked up in this agricultural field causes me a depression that no one would be able to imagine. Or at least the first few months. After four years of sentencing, I don't even think about it. Although I had to have angered someone at the academy to send me to that destination... Although I can't remember what.

I haven't worn my sheriff's uniform for more than three years. I only take it out of my leather suitcase when I have to wash it, to prevent bugs from making a waste of it.

Three years in which my duties as commissioner have not been necessary, except to make the occasional maneuver to remember that, indeed, we are still the defense bastion of Cantus. A defense bastion of 100 people, including ten of them who were over sixty years of age. To think that old Lexter is in charge of transporting one of the heavy machine guns is simply comedy at its best.

Four years... Four years in which I forgot the smell of gunpowder. The heat inside a trench. The roar of gunshots during training. And I must admit... I started to enjoy it... Or at least until two weeks ago.

The messenger arrived two days before the first regiment. Two million soldiers of the Astra Militarum landed on the plains and gathered in the city. And with it, several heavy and reconnaissance vehicles.

A detachment of the Krieg Guard now stands by on the outskirts of the city. I never thought I would see those soldiers with my own eyes, and their peculiar silence is chilling. Men and women cold as stone, to the point that it makes me doubt if they are really alive.

Once again, I must take out my commissioner uniform. Once again, I must remember what I already thought I had forgotten. A uniform that was tight on me, because working with machinery makes even students like me gain some muscle.

Even so, the original hundred Cantus soldiers can't help but feel nervous. Even Mason, with his calm demeanor, appears uneasy. But when their tattered uniforms contrasted noticeably with the newcomers during training. In fact, we looked like a gang of beggars. They even had to make a new uniform for Purshok, since he had gained six sizes since he last wore his.

My own nerves are reflected in these words. My fears and those of the few commanding officers who know the truth. Truth that I cannot reveal, or I will be punished with the death penalty.

Astropaths have felt it. The tides of the warp are rough. This sector is under threat of chaos, and just thinking about what these aberrations are capable of makes my blood run cold. We don't know when or where they will appear... We just know that it won't be pleasant...

If by chance, you are reading this diary... it is because I am no longer able to protect it, and you took it from my cold hands.

And may the Emperor forgive me for my fears.

×××××××××××××××××××××××

Hello everyone. As you can see, this story will be told through "the passages that Commissioner Harrus himself" captures in his diary.

Consequently, strange things may happen while reading. Example: Lost or broken pages. Incomplete stories because some inconvenience forced Harrus himself to stop writing and stuff.

I don't know if this will work, but I'm going to try. There will be no omnipresent narrator or anything similar here. Everything you will read "Was written in the commissioner's handwriting."

I hope you like it.