The Imperium of Man has millions of worlds scattered across the indifferent galaxy.
Millions of worlds are perpetually threatened by cursed traitors and perfidious xenos.
It is an Imperium consumed by war, fighting for survival.
For there is no peace between the stars.
Fearless genetically modified warriors, Space Marines, lead humanity in every counterattack, striking directly into the heart of the enemy.
From the Mechanicum's forge worlds, shrouded in terrifying mist, powerful warships emerge.
Their weapons are blessed by the Machine God, and their crews are devoted to the Machine God's holy cause.
And the Loyalist Academy trains green children to become leaders: officers of the greatest fleet the stars have ever seen—the Imperial Navy.
These heroes defend the Imperium with their lives, constantly fighting against the ceaseless threat of Chaos.
For the future of the galaxy, the war against the Dark Gods and their worshippers is humanity's eternal battle.
This is the forging ground of true heroes, a crucible of legends.
Admiral Spire is a legend, the savior of the Gothic Sector.
The conqueror of Warmaster Abaddon's 12th Black Crusade.
He pursued his enemies, charging into the Warp.
For centuries, he was lost, unheard from, vanished in the ebb and flow of the immaterium.
As Spire's only living descendant, Horatio boarded a Valkyrie transport with Navy personnel, heading for the Navy Department in the Gothic Sector.
Farida Hood, as the daughter of a Naval Officer and a source of information, also boarded.
As a crucial aerial armed force of the Imperium, the Valkyrie, true to its name, like a nimble Valkyrie, swept through the crowded Middle Hive at astonishing speed, plummeting straight to the surface.
The first rays of morning sun shone through the Valkyrie's observation window, making Horatio, who had been in the dark all night, feel uncomfortable.
"So…my father, he died in the line of duty?" Horatio, who had thought he could finally live a good life, felt a sudden jolt in his heart.
"I apologize, I am not authorized to know about that matter. My mission is to safely bring you to the Navy Department," the Captain sitting opposite him politely evaded his question.
[Died in the line of duty, unauthorized to know?…]
Soon after, the Valkyrie transport activated its hover mode.
The side door of the cabin opened, and the Naval Captain, in his crisp uniform, was the first to stand up and jump off the aircraft.
"Please, Miss Hood. I am your father's Second Captain. He is resting in his office." The Captain removed his bicorne hat, bowed with a smile, and then extended his hand to help the lady disembark.
"He had meetings all night?" Farida simply jumped down from the shuttle herself.
"Yes, Miss."
"Does he know about this?"
"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time before he does. Nothing can be hidden from the Military Intelligence Command."
"Alright, where's the person handling this fellow's affairs?"
"The Lieutenant Commander of the Unyielding has arrived. Please come this way, Miss. You can rest first."
"No need. I'll go and see the situation too."
Farida frowned as she looked at Horatio disembarking from the fighter.
What met their eyes was a vast and enormous dedicated aircraft dock, where various Imperial Army aircraft were parked, giving off a strong sci-fi feel.
The sun was halfway up, and the time was approximately seven o'clock in the morning, terra time.
[Have I been fighting underground for so long?…] Horatio was physically and mentally exhausted, blinking his eyes as he observed his surroundings.
Everyone who saw him couldn't help but frown.
Yes, he was wearing dirty Adeptus Arbites armor, his face covered in grime and fatigue, looking very disheveled on the Navy Department dock, where Naval Officers and nobles were aplenty.
"Let's go. Congratulations, you gambled correctly; you are indeed a Navy Heir, but it seems there was a slight deviation from expectations. You've become a Navy Heir. Please accept my condolences, I hope you're not too sad," Farida shrugged and consoled him.
Horatio sighed in response, his lips pursed, speechless.
Standing on the dock, Horatio could see the towering main building of the Loyalist Academy not far away, with the huge Imperial Skyhawk emblem shining brightly in the sunlight.
Only children whose parents bravely died in service to the Imperium are sent here for study and training.
It is the Imperium's official 'orphanage,' serving as both a school and a military academy.
He also heard that the Loyalist Academy was an extremely dark and brutal place.
Even with a few exceptions—such as the school Commissar Cain attended, which was a bit more lenient and resembled a standard modern military academy—the majority of other Loyalist Academies saw over forty percent of their students not survive graduation.
They either died in battle or were beaten to death by brutal and tyrannical drill sergeants.
Corporal punishment and bullying were commonplace in the Loyalist Academy.
Surely, some would ask, what if one doesn't enroll? Is this the only path? Do noble children also have to go in?
That's right, as long as both parents die in service to the Imperium, no matter how high their rank, they are all Loyalists, and enrollment is mandatory.
From the moment they become Loyalists, except for those groomed by the Ministry of Internal Affairs, other children like Horatio are assigned to the Imperial Armed Forces. Not enrolling is equivalent to desertion, with the only outcomes being death or a terrible death.
And the broad definition of Loyalist fundamentally determined that there were all kinds of students in the Loyalist Academy. Children whose parents were both Soldiers would even sit in the same classroom as children whose parents were high-ranking officials, achieving equality in a sense.
Although, this equality was relative.
Noble Loyalists would not be abused by the drill sergeants, and with their excellent political and military education resources, they were more likely to secure officer positions.
This place was more like society than any other school, even having a bit of a dark forest feel.
Horatio heard that Commissar cadets had to personally execute at least one schoolmate to graduate, which was a truly terrifying dark joke.
[Alright, alright, relax. Maybe this Loyalist Academy is different… ] Horatio secretly encouraged himself.
"Let's go, there's nothing good to see. You'll have plenty of time to look later."
Horatio turned his head and followed the waiting Captain and Female Hunter-Duke towards the Gothic Navy Department, which stood like a soaring sword.
He had never seen such a magnificent building; its enormous shadow covered hundreds of kilometers behind the Navy Department.
The entire planet seemed to have only the Gothic Bishop's Cathedral that could rival it, both reaching into space, connecting to their dedicated Starport ships.
One connects to Pilgrimage Ships, the other to warships.
The Navy Department corridors were spacious and luxurious, with floor tiles made of richly patterned, smooth marble. Every five meters, there were symmetrically placed display stands, holding various artifacts collected by Naval Officers from across the stars.
People came and went in the Navy Department; everywhere he looked, there were either Naval Officers in Imperial Navy blue and white uniforms or stern-faced civil servants in Ministry of Internal Affairs robes.
Horatio followed behind the two, and officers they encountered would actively salute the Female Hunter-Duke.
Clearly, based on her family's prestige, recognizing the faces of Hood Family members had become almost a mandatory lesson for Gothic Fleet officers.
Horatio felt a pang of bitterness. He, too, had an extraordinary father, but why did he die in the line of duty before his reputation could spread widely?
"The Naval Loyal Succession Department is just ahead," the Captain said to Horatio, who was following behind him.
Horatio looked forward and saw dozens of Naval Officers waiting at the entrance.
"Is this the child of Lieutenant Commander Thomas Cochrane, the only descendant of Admiral Spire?" an officer who had been conversing with others stepped forward and asked upon seeing the three approach.
"Yes, it's him."
"Attention, salute!"