Upon entering Segmentum Solar, Jaghatai Khan split his fleet in two.
The Great Khan himself would proceed to Terra to rendezvous with Guilliman, while the remainder of the host would follow Jubal to Lucius, situated within the Imperium Nihilus, for a mass retrofitting. Once their resupply was complete, the majority of the White Scars' sons would scatter once more, plunging back into the countless war zones across the dark side of the Imperium.
Jubal Khan, however, had been assigned an additional task by the Primarch: to take a detachment to Fenris and question Logan Grimnar, the Great Wolf of the Space Wolves, regarding any word of their long-lost Primarch, Leman Russ. To the Khan's deployment, Jubal Khan naturally raised no objections.
Yet, just as Jaghatai reached the mid-sectors of Segmentum Solar, Guilliman received an unexpected transmission from Axion. A new accord, designated the Redeemer Project, was laid before the Lord Regent. Assessing the sheer weight of the intelligence within, Guilliman had no choice but to forward the accord to the Adeptus Astartes, while summoning High Inquisitors of the Inquisition and representatives of the Adeptus Custodes. Furthermore, Vulkan, who had not yet departed, was invited to attend this high-level conclave of monumental consequence.
Ever since Axion departed the Sol System with Ersen, they had swiftly crossed into the Imperium Nihilus and boarded the Void Sword. The sheer magnitude of the Titan-class vessel filled Ersen with profound awe. Even though he had glimpsed the blurred, phantom silhouettes of such colossal void-ships in prophetic visions, standing before the reality of it left him utterly shaken.
Upon entering the interior of the Void Sword, Ersen discovered a vast population of Imperial citizens dwelling within. These were the countless Imperial psykers whom Axion had rescued and recovered through the Convoy Protocol. Witnessing the daily lives of these mortals stirred a tempest of thoughts within the Word Bearers warrior.
As a Space Marine and a psyker himself, Ersen possessed an exquisite mastery over the currents of the Warp. He could clearly perceive the psychic state of these mortals. Without exception, the psychic power of every individual was kept at an extremely low ebb. The silver rings worn about their bodies dynamically adjusted their output at every second, continuously siphoning away their psychic energy, keeping it precisely beneath a threshold that ensured the mortals suffered no discomfort.
This dynamic extraction insulated the mortals from the whispers of the Empyrean, ensuring the malice of the Warp could not touch them. The technology of the Iron Men guaranteed the absolute reliability of these devices.
During his wanderings across various Imperial worlds, Ersen had witnessed far too many rogue psykers. He had seen them stare in stark terror at the mutations warping their flesh, entirely ignorant of their own condition, before being completely consumed by psychic fire in a sudden, catastrophic warp-detonation. Others were hunted down by gangers or cultists, ending up as sacrificial offerings or test subjects in horrific experiments. Their fates were invariably agonizing.
Yet here, though fluctuations of psychic turbulence did occur, they failed to stir even a ripple. Any sudden surge of psychic energy was immediately drained by those anomalous devices before it could manifest.
Driven by curiosity, Ersen focused his perceptions, tracing the path of the siphoned psychic energy as he walked. Along the way, mortals repeatedly bowed and offered signs of reverence to him. Ersen wore no power armor, clad only in a simple hooded robe. However, among these mortals drawn from countless worlds of the Imperium, many were far from ignorant. There was little room to question the identity of such a towering figure. If he were not a dull-witted Ogryn, then he must be one of the Emperor's Angels. It was glaringly obvious that not even a fool would mistake Ersen for a brain-dead Ogryn.
Axion had granted Ersen extensive clearance, permitting him to move freely through most sectors of the Void Sword. The machine units threading the hull stood ready at all times to provide guidance and assistance.
An experiment of this nature carried severe risks; even Axion could not guarantee whether Ersen could endure the trials, let alone survive them. Rather than offering compensation after a failure, it was deemed better to grant him some measure of latitude beforehand. If the warrior desired to satisfy his curiosity, that curiosity would be indulged.
Thus, under the inquisitive gazes of the Imperial populace, Ersen passed through bulkheads that the mortals were forbidden to cross, disappearing into the depths escorted by several mechanical sentries.
When the psychic compression apparatus and the mountain-like monoliths of psychic crystals finally loomed before Ersen's eyes, the loyal Word Bearers warrior could do nothing but softly recite verses from the Lectitio Divinitatus. Even without physical contact, the terrifying power bound within those psychic crystals radiated outward, palpable to his senses.
The pale blue crystalline structures were embedded into alloyed grids, arranged vertically and intersecting like walls of pure crystal. These tiny crystals, formed from ultra-high-density psychic condensation, were extraordinarily stable, so much so that they scarcely resembled the psychic energy of his own understanding. Here, there were no psychic tempests, nor any supernatural anomalies; neither frost, nor flame, nor howling gale manifested.
Never had he witnessed psychic power so utterly stabilized. It was as though in the hands of these machines, even the chaotic, entropic forces of the Warp were forced to submit to the absolute will of the silicon-based sapient intelligences.
While Ersen wandered and observed the vessel, Axion was already conducting preliminary testing.
Two hundred thousand psykers had been vetted and selected based on their relatively unyielding faith. These individuals possessed absolute devotion to the Imperium, even viewing the environment provided by the Iron Men as the supreme benevolence of the Emperor, a true salvation within this dark galaxy. Though their control over their own psychic gifts was infantile and their potencies varied wildly, Axion had no alternatives.
At present, Ersen was the sole critical asset available for the primary trial. Every measure had to be taken to maximize the utility of the material.
Unlike the methods of the Adeptus Mechanicus, who would simply fabricate a crime or employ hive gangs to abduct subjects, Axion had explicitly informed these two hundred thousand souls of everything they were about to undergo, granting them total autonomy of choice. They could choose to remain, continuing their lives as living psychic batteries until the end of their natural days, or they could participate in the experiment, dedicating their lives to securing the peace of the Imperium.
Astonishingly, over ninety percent of the two hundred thousand candidates voluntarily consented to the experiment.
The longest-residing among them had lived aboard the Void Sword for nearly two years, while the newest arrivals had been present for a mere few months. Yet, this period of peaceful and remarkably affluent living had bred a deep sense of guilt within them. Compared to their former squalor within the underhives, this existence was nothing short of paradise. They were exempt from grueling labor, faced no scarcity of food, and could present their needs to the cold machines at any time.
Delicacies and fine wines they had only ever heard of in whispers, exquisite and comfortable vestments, and soft berths they had never before slept upon, every reasonable request was invariably fulfilled. Disease was kept at bay; though the psychic siphoning gradually weakened their bodies, this frailty came without agony or pain.
Yet, whenever they recalled their families, friends, or even fellow vagrants who still struggled to survive in the hive cities, guilt would swell within their hearts. The psychic training methodologies Axion had requisitioned from the Scholastia Psykana were saturated with a massive amount of devotional material produced by the Ecclesiarchy. This only served to make their prayers to the Emperor increasingly fervent, causing them to continuously repent for the sinful luxury they enjoyed here.
They knew not why they were accorded such divine treatment, but they knew only to be eternally grateful for the Emperor's grace.