In the depths of the palace, where the main body of the Imaginary Computer Prometheus resided, Zhou Ye had returned to his normal human size. He hoisted a large box, roughly as big as himself, and carried it before the computer.
With an excited expression, he placed it in front of the super-processor. "Come and see what I've prepared for you," he said eagerly.
Zhou Ye had given up on the aesthetics of the Warhammer universe. To be fair, some things here were genuinely cool, but the taste in female aesthetics was truly abysmal. The Battle Sisters all had good foundations, yet they insisted on dressing themselves up like middle-aged matrons. Even the Living Saint, Celestine, was no exception. In the words of others, she was a divine incarnation; in Zhou Ye's eyes, she was just another design that didn't match his tastes.
"According to my data analysis, this body's standards are completely different from those of this world," a voice emanated from a camera lens.
"Don't question my aesthetic sense. This is a special body I've prepared for you. It looks just like you."
As Zhou Ye's words fell, a figure with twin-tail spiral hair floated out from the computer's interface. This was the computer's AI, or perhaps its Machine Spirit. Of course, Zhou Ye hadn't created it from scratch; this accursed world was just always like this. But since it had been shaped by Zhou Ye, it had taken on his preferences completely. Seeing her float around like a ghost all the time wasn't ideal, so he had prepared a body for her.
"Very well…"
Seeing that the body resembled her own avatar, Prometheus nodded.
Just as Zhou Ye was trying to cuddle up with—no, communicate with his mecha-girl…
---o---
"What in the warp has happened to this universe!!!"
At that moment, Eli Morgan was sitting on the roof of a vehicle, a bottle of wine in hand, chugging it down… glug, glug, glug…
Honestly, back on Terra, this was the kind of vintage that even high nobles would only bring out to entertain guests on Ascension Day. And a single house on Terra was worth an entire palace on most other hive worlds.
He felt as though his entire worldview had been shattered over the past few days. He had seen the Sons of Horus—no, the Shadow Moon Grey Wolves—who, lacking snacks for their drinking session, had stolen the final graduation project of a group of Dusk Raiders. When confronted, they had stubbornly denied it, and the two groups had immediately erupted into a massive brawl right then and there.
Chaos infighting was always a welcome sight, but why did this feel so strange?
And that was just the start. The god-damned World Eaters, those madmen, were working as doctors, many of them as psychologists. Weren't they just going to drive everyone insane? Ah, right, it was this world that was insane.
Compared to that, the wok-flipping Emperor's Children, the Thousand Sons fighting other factions over student recruitment at the various academies, and the Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors having a cage match in an octagon to compete for the best recruits… none of that seemed so bad anymore.
But the thing that made him feel this world was truly bonkers was the glass of wine in his hand.
As an Inquisitor of the Imperium, an agent of the Golden Throne, he had to be extremely cautious regarding this planet and its mysterious Primarch. So, for the past few days, he had been driving around, trying to gather more intelligence.
Then, while resting in a vineyard, he had met a "hospitable" old farmer.
Heh, it was Tzeentch's chosen champion, Ahriman.
The man had very enthusiastically offered him a glass of his own homemade wine. Normally, he should have destroyed it immediately. But with his worldview already in pieces, he couldn't be bothered anymore. He had just picked it up and started chugging…
And it was actually quite good. And… it was just a bottle of wine. There wasn't a single additive in it. This just made him feel that the world had gone completely insane.
"Heh, let's see what else this place has to offer. I refuse to believe it. Could there even be a traitor Primarch here? My next destination is the Law Academy."
This world already had too many bizarre elements. He felt that the only thing that could still faze him now would be a traitor Primarch. He was almost tempted to guess that this mysterious Primarch was Horus himself, but no, Horus didn't have Ultramarines and Imperial Fists under his command.
He could only say that on Trailblaze, from the top down, everyone had their own business to attend to. The variety of factions under this mysterious Primarch probably exceeded even that of Horus's forces, and they all exuded a strange, abstract vitality.
---o---
Meanwhile, in the Grey Knight monastery deep within the royal palace, the Imperial Grey Knights slowly closed their eyes.
They no longer had any doubt about the loyalty of these brothers they had never met before. In a place so overflowing with the essence of the Emperor, there could be no traitors. In truth, this place was a unique phenomenon created by Zhou Ye and the Emperor unknowingly tossing faith back and forth at each other. Zhou Ye's Trailblaze Grey Knights had been bathing in this light for years. And the Imperial Grey Knights were now doing the same, absorbing the most.
"What an incredible honor!!!"
The three Imperial Grey Knights were kneeling piously before the statues of the Emperor and Zhou Ye. They had already learned of the recent events. Twenty-four Greater Daemons of Khorne, nine Greater Daemons of Tzeentch… a battle of such glorious scale was something they had never even heard of.
They were now praying, eagerly awaiting the moment they could meet their Father. The only unfortunate thing was that their Father had more important matters to attend to. They wanted to prove themselves to him; they too wanted to live such a glorious life.
Behind them stood a squad of cherub-automata carrying brand-new Aegis Terminator armor. Without servitors, they had to use these instead. Their original wargear had been set aside. They were to don this new equipment and head to the upcoming battlefield on Macragge.
Although they didn't know how the Lord of Trailblaze intended to get there, an Astartes never fears war. To better dedicate themselves, they needed better equipment, like the Nemesis Force Halberds that could truly kill a daemon. They had also brought out the Liber Daemonica, which recorded the true names of various daemons. This information had already been cataloged by the Trailblaze Grey Knights; it was actually quite useful.
Zhou Ye's Grey Knights didn't need it as much, mainly due to their method of deployment. They would often drop dozens of knights right on top of the enemy, with other companies and auxiliaries in support, allowing them to simply steamroll their foes. The Imperial Grey Knights, on the other hand, often operated in small, unsupported squads deep within a daemonic tide. In such situations, using a true name for banishment was undoubtedly the most effective tactic. So, they might not always need it, but they couldn't be without it.
However…
"Hmm, this feels a bit strange. Everything else is fine, but this armor…"
The three Imperial Grey Knights had discovered the problem. This Terminator armor didn't quite fit them. In other words, they couldn't perform the super-teleportation. Another issue was that while the armor was filled with a holy aura, it was also brand new.
"You are still lacking one surgery. But this surgery can only be performed by the Father."
Seeing the dejected look on the Imperial Grey Knights, the Trailblaze Grand Master couldn't help but point this out. The missing step was the forced conversion of their psychic energy into Imaginary energy. Only Zhou Ye could perform this procedure. It was extremely dangerous; it was possible for the soul to be torn to shreds in the process, and that was with Zhou Ye himself performing it. Anyone else attempting it was out of the question.
"Hmm…"
Hearing this, the Imperial Grey Knights felt a bit disheartened, as if they were somehow incomplete. Looking at the nearly two hundred brothers present, only the three of them were unable to fully utilize this armor. But unfortunately, their Father was surely formulating a grand plan and had no time for such a procedure now.
"It's alright, don't worry." The Trailblaze Grand Master comforted them. He felt that these brothers had it rough. Even their surgeries were incomplete. The Imperium was truly inhuman. All that was needed was the safe step of converting psychic energy into Imaginary energy, and look at the convoluted things they did to achieve the same effect.
---o---
At that moment, on the distant world of Macragge, things were extraordinarily lively.
According to the star charts available online, the Ultramarines' homeworld of Macragge was located in the galactic southeast. The Great Rift, however, was in the galactic north. The official novels also seemed to mention that the distance from Macragge to Terra was ninety thousand light-years. Using that as a scale, one could see that the closest point of the Great Rift was at least a hundred thousand light-years away. Therefore, the great tear in the galaxy was not visible from here.
This was also why Zhou Ye suspected the Emperor might have had a hand in the Great Rift's creation. Look at the state of the Imperium in the millennium before the Rift opened. The degree of corruption and decay was the most extreme it had been in ten thousand years. Rather than let the Imperium rot away completely, the Emperor might have chosen to gamble. The opening of the Rift allowed him to intervene in the world more directly. Only in this way could he gradually awaken the lost Primarchs. Both Guilliman and Lion El'Jonson were awakened by him during this time. It was the return of these two that allowed the Imperium to slam the brakes right at the edge of the abyss of ruin.
But now, Macragge was bustling with activity, because…
"They have arrived…"
Marneus Calgar, Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, was looking at the docking requests with a headache. They were from the Dark Angels, the Space Wolves, the Imperial Fists, and the Iron Hands. He was a bit surprised the Blood Angels hadn't come. But the Iron Hands were here, and he had no idea what news they had heard.
"Let them in…"
Though a deep weariness washed over him, Calgar ordered them to be granted entry. The Ultramarines were, first and foremost, political creatures, and the core of politics was compromise and concession. He felt that sitting down and talking could solve many problems. After all, many conflicts arose from a lack of communication—case in point, that genius Magnus on Prospero.
The situations were all different. The Dark Angels, Space Wolves, and Imperial Fists likely just wanted an explanation. But what were the Iron Hands doing here? They weren't the only ones with a shard of that sword. The Inquisition, the Dark Angels, and the Blood Angels all had one. Hadn't they gone to them? Coming here to find him… this was something else.
"Go and receive them." Calgar waved his hand, signaling for Captain Metellus to greet them. After all, he had just recently fought alongside some of these Chapters and was somewhat familiar with them.
"Yes."
Though sweat beaded on his forehead, Metellus stepped forward.
On the spaceport tarmac of Macragge, Asmodai, clad in Terminator armor, stepped out. He felt that his mind was truly beautiful right now, especially after leaving the Rock. The words "Fallen Angels" no longer echoed in his ears. The other fanatics from the Inner Circle he had brought with him were in a similar state. They all felt their mental state was excellent. A place without Fallen Angels was truly comfortable.
But soon, his expression turned respectful, and he stepped aside to clear the path. A Space Wolves vessel had landed, and an ancient, ten-thousand-year-old Contemptor Dreadnought was the first to emerge, striding forward with great purpose.
Behind him followed a large pack of wolf-cubs. Although the ancient Dreadnought looked battered and broken, everyone present, including the Ultramarines, immediately saluted him, giving this ancient elder their utmost respect.
This was, of course, Lemont Icefang. The Dreadnought was simply too full of life. He had heard that Guilliman's ambitious whelps had dared to claim Trailblaze as part of their domain and had immediately started bellowing curses. Combined with the strange "ingredients" Zhou Ye had added during his modifications, he had single-handedly berated the entire Space Wolves chapter into submission and demanded to go to Macragge personally to get an explanation.
Faced with this elder, who was little more than a few spare parts but was abnormally active, the Space Wolves were at a loss. In the end, Logan Grimnar made the call. It was a good opportunity for him to take a group of new recruits who had just received their second gene-seed to see the galaxy, and to get them to stop running wild on Fenris.
Of course, to ensure the elder's safety, the entirety of Vlka's Great Company came along. They were on the verge of turning the Space Wolves into the Space Huskies. Besides, Logan had just undergone the Rubicon Primaris and was still recovering. He had no energy to deal with these new recruits, so he had just thrown them all over here, letting them go wherever they pleased. Besides, the Space Wolves could finally start producing new marines en masse.
So, seeing the ancient Contemptor Dreadnought and the towering new recruits following him, even more sweat beaded on Captain Metellus's forehead.
---o---