"The Chaos corruption on this planet has deepened again..."
Eden sensed the change in the tainted energies and suddenly lifted his head to look into the distance, where more cracks were opening in the void.
Boom.
A dark, brooding volcano erupted, spewing out rubble and molten rock. Lava spilled toward the jungles, setting towering trees and undergrowth ablaze.
Beyond the treeline, the land itself turned mottled black, and countless things twisted out of shape.
Even the air carried faint, whispering voices.
The Khan spat a mouthful of phlegm, his expression thick with disgust.
"The Warp has reshaped this world and made it more suitable for those Chaos scum to live in. We might have to come up with even faster strike doctrines."
The Primarch of the White Scars had wandered the webway's extradimensional corridors for ten millennia. Compared to his brothers, he was far more familiar with how terrifying the Warp's reshaping power could be.
He had witnessed many regions consumed by the Warp, places utterly transformed into something else, turned into paradises for heretic abominations.
Even the lifeforms within became completely twisted into Warp-spawned creatures.
Eden nodded and added, "Exactly. If we can't stop this, if we can't stop the Changer of Ways' ritual array...
It won't just be this planet. The entire Vostonia Pan-Sector will be turned into a Chaos playground, and the corruption will spread to other regions.
This is the seed of a catastrophe, a new and even more terrifying Eye of Terror being born.
You can think of it as a Chaos enclave established inside the Imperium's domains. The Ruinous Powers would be able to use this enclave to extend their reach.
It would be even more dangerous than the Eye of Terror itself."
The Savior's words made the other Primarchs frown deeply.
They might not have delved into the Eye of Terror the way the Savior had, but from records and reports they understood at least a little of that place's monstrosity and evil.
It was Chaos-held territory, the main gate through which Chaos encroached on reality, like an amplifier for the Warp that constantly radiated corrupting power across the galaxy.
The Eye of Terror was a tumor inside the Imperium's body, endlessly worsening its condition.
And now an even more horrific tumor was beginning to grow, and a malignant one at that.
The Ruinous Powers could use this Chaos enclave to root themselves firmly within Imperial space, then continually stockpile and dispatch Chaos armies.
In simple terms, until now the Ruinous Powers' invasions were basically unsupported shock raids. The daemons they unleashed would hit once, then pull back.
At best they could "feed off war" for a time, but sooner or later they still had to return to the Warp.
They could not sustain a campaign.
If this grand scheme succeeded, then in effect the Ruinous Powers would have a logistical base inside Imperial territory, from which they could continuously expand their domains and dispatch ever more armies.
Easy to defend, hard to assault.
The Imperium would be forced to fight a so-called "invasion war" on its own soil, and that would be vastly more difficult.
"Humanity's situation is far worse than it was in the Great Crusade," the Lion sighed.
He was not intimately familiar with the Eye of Terror, but he grasped well enough how severe the situation was.
Worry lined his face, etching even deeper wrinkles.
"The destructive power of Chaos armies is terrifying. Even exterminator war engines struggle to stand against them. With the Imperium in its current state, can we really hold back their offensive?"
The Lion had already learned a little of the Imperium's condition from the Dark Angels and the Fallen, particularly its shadow-side.
The Imperium had grown feeble to a heartbreaking degree, a truly shocking sight.
What was more, even in the era of the Great Crusade, stopping the Ruinous Powers' armies had been extraordinarily difficult.
The return of the Savior, Guilliman, and the others had indeed allowed the Imperium's "bright side" to accumulate some strength.
But the Lion still had little confidence.
He very much doubted just how much the Savior and his allies could really reshape the Imperium in such a short span of time, and how much power they could actually gather.
He had only just returned when Chaos hammered him repeatedly.
Especially on Calisde, where he had been shamefully mobbed and beaten down. The Chaos tides that crashed over him there had left him deeply shaken.
It made him subconsciously assume that all the forces the Ruinous Powers fielded were of that scale: endless, howling daemonic legions.
Which naturally led to the conclusion: the Imperium is done for.
Eden heard this and spoke to his brother Primarch in a solemn yet steady tone.
"Lion, the situation is difficult, yes. But it's not as though we have no answers.
We have already brought the forces needed. We're confident we can win this hard-fought counteroffensive.
Give me a moment. We need to finalize our deployments."
As he spoke, he turned and huddled together with Guilliman and the Khan, diving into rapid-fire arrangements for the assault forces.
"Roboute, things have shifted a bit. We should adjust like this... Also, you might want to reconsider personally taking point as vanguard. I'm not saying you're unsuitable, just that..."
The Savior, Guilliman, and the Khan formed a tight little circle.
They skimmed through the latest operational plans from the information-command departments and detailed maps of Calisde, making quick decisions as they went.
The Lion watched his brothers discuss boarding assaults and strike tactics that he could not participate in, and felt just a little out of place.
Arms folded, he edged closer to them and saw the three of them gesturing animatedly at something he couldn't see.
Which made him feel even more left out.
Because they lacked any physical holo-sandtable projectors, the Savior and the others could only use their data-visors to view the shared online tactical map.
But the Lion had never registered on the psy-net, and he had no compatible gear. That meant he couldn't see a thing, and even receiving data was a struggle.
Besides, most of his equipment had been wrecked in the battle just now.
Even if it were intact, it was still Great Crusade–era antique hardware, barely compatible with modern psy-net data streams.
All of which gave the Lion a very particular feeling: that his own brothers were leaving him out, and it stung.
With time so short, though, he could hardly interrupt the Savior's planning session, so he had to make do with craning his neck and listening in.
Listening to their discussion, the Lion's brows slowly drew together as he picked up some unfamiliar strings of words.
"Encircle the entire sector and annihilate every Chaos abomination.
This location isn't that important. Dropping fifty Titans here should be enough.
Those twenty thousand Astartes can be kept as reserve forces. Given the current deployment, throwing more into the front lines will just crowd the battlefield.
Brother Eden, isn't our bombardment schedule a bit too dense? I'm worried there might be side effects.
No choice. The information-command staff are insisting on an ultra-saturation bombardment. They want to burn through the munitions on those two void-whale–class transports as fast as possible, free up some storage space.
Otherwise the follow-on supply convoys won't have anywhere to off-load cargo. That would disrupt the logistics timeline..."
"...?"
The more the Lion heard, the more baffled he became, and for the first time he began to question the Savior's framing of things.
This was supposed to be a desperate counteroffensive against Chaos abominations, a battle where the situation was extremely dire... wasn't it?
So where did phrases like "encircle the entire sector," "exterminate every Chaos abomination," and "don't let a single one escape" come from?
How did "desperate counteroffensive" and "full encirclement annihilation" even fit into the same sentence?
What did "this place isn't that important, just drop fifty Titans here" even mean? Were Titans toys now? And since when were they complaining that there were "too many" Space Marines?
And what was "ultra-saturation bombardment" supposed to be?
Then he heard the Savior's voice, frowning, tinged with concern.
"Brothers, this will be a difficult battle..."
The battle-hardened Lion, with his wealth of combat experience, heard that and went mentally red-black and dizzy, like a meme of a confused man with question marks all over his face.
Weren't we just talking about surrounding the entire sector and killing everything Chaos? How is this suddenly a 'difficult' fight?
He could feel, very directly, the strange contradictions in the Savior and in the Savior's forces. He could not make sense of them.
Which was normal. Even Guilliman and the Khan had needed quite some time to wrap their heads around the Savior and the Savior's realm's outlook on war and victory.
Put simply: if it's not a landslide win, if they're not far, far ahead, then it counts as a loss.
There was a fundamental difference between "Savior Victory Theory" and "Imperial Victory Theory."
Because the Imperium had become so utterly rotten, because it had been overrun and pushed back by heretics and xenos for so long, any victory at all was precious.
Even when there was no victory, victory still had to be conjured somehow, to steady the faith of Imperial citizens.
Structurally, it was a bit like that "curry-flavored win-ology" the Savior remembered from his previous life.
The Imperium might sacrifice countless lives and see an entire planet annihilated, but as long as the enemy was forced to retreat, that was a victory. Even if the tally was "wound the enemy eight hundred, lose several thousand of our own."
As long as you could call it a win.
And deeply entrenched at the top were far too many deranged, fanatical theorists and high-level beings who would stop at nothing to achieve some narrow goal or prove their personal doctrines.
In certain extreme cases...
They would deliberately destroy planets within a given theater, just to make sure the enemy had nowhere left to fight, so the invaders would be forced to move on.
That, too, could be called a win, and you could throw a victory parade for it.
But things were different in the Savior's realm.
Because of the long string of uninterrupted victories, the accumulated confidence, and the "seek truth from facts" strategic line, they had come to hold very different goals and beliefs when they faced war.
They believed in winning by being realistic: in preserving and reclaiming Imperial territory and citizens, and in truly striking down the xenos and heretics to achieve the Imperium's restoration and flourishing.
Only after conquering and exterminating all alien threats, defeating the Chaos Gods, and driving out every shred of Warp-taint could humanity be said to have truly won.
That would be real victory.
Under the influence of this Savior Victory Theory and the ultimate objective, every battlefield triumph was only a phase victory, to be scrutinized and evaluated.
In a case like Calisde, even if the battle were won, if the planet's population and environment were both on the brink of total collapse, that was hardly a victory. At best, it was the completion of a particular strategic objective.
A grueling war.
And if the casualty ratios were too high, if the firepower had not been overwhelming enough, the units involved might even be criticized afterwards.
In other words, in the Savior's realm, merely driving off the enemy did not count as a win.
You had to hurt them, make them afraid, hang them up and beat them bloody, kill off important enemy figures, and achieve outcomes that truly shifted the grand strategic picture in your favor.
That was a minor win.
With such long-term, concrete goals shaping their victory doctrine, they could also prevent units from growing complacent and losing their edge after some small local success.
It kept more of the forces keyed up, maintaining their will to fight and their aggression toward the enemy.
The old Imperium had never really had such a unifying objective. At most, all it had was faith in the Emperor and a vague desire to maintain Imperial borders. Everything boiled down to: when the enemy shows up, resist.
And because the High Lords' Council existed, the interests of the Imperial upper crust, its factions and domains, were never aligned. The whole thing was more or less a pile of loose sand.
There was no long-term strategic purpose.
Now, with the Savior enthroned as Emperor, this victory doctrine of "Imperial renewal and flourishing" had slowly begun to spread through Imperial space.
To some extent, it had fostered greater unity. Imperial forces now had long-term goals in their campaigns. They understood what they were ultimately fighting for.
They no longer just shouted the vague slogan "For the Emperor" and left it at that.
Under the Savior's rule, under the faith in the Golden Sun and the Savior, humanity now fought for the future prosperity and revival of mankind.
Every victory in every war was a stage victory, and as each of these accumulated, they would add up to humanity's future.
In short, the modern Imperium now had its own set of strategic aims and guiding principles.
Which translated into far greater combat power.
But the Lion had only just come back to the Imperium. He knew none of this, which left him out of step and feeling dazed and detached.
Eden and Guilliman finished their discussion and, looking up, saw the Lion standing there in a daze.
Eden asked curiously, "Lion, what are you thinking about?"
"I've slept too long. Maybe I really do need time to adapt to this new age."
The Lion came back to himself and gave a slightly self-mocking smile.
After everything he had experienced in these days, he had realized the Imperium had changed far more than he had imagined.
He needed time to accept and get used to it all.
Eden's smile turned gentle.
"Yes. Many things are different now. But you'll adapt. You'll even come to like the Imperium as it is."
The Lion blinked at that, then forced a small smile.
"Will I? I look forward to it, then."
To a Primarch, the Imperium was a bitter draught they'd been forced to swallow. They did not, on the whole, hold fond feelings toward it.
Otherwise, half of them wouldn't have turned traitor.
At the root, they had betrayed the Imperium because they wanted to build a better human realm as they saw it, and fell prey to the Ruinous Powers' whispers.
Those who remained loyal kept the Imperium running chiefly out of loyalty to the Emperor and the belief that it was humanity's only path to survival.
"He's right. I wasn't used to it at first either.
Now I think the Imperium is wonderful. I've grown very fond of it. It's much more lovable than it used to be."
The Khan grinned broadly.
He meant every word. The Imperium now gave him and the White Scars far more than it had before, rather than hemming them in at every turn.
"Lion, I feel this more than most. You should trust what Brother Eden says."
Guilliman looked over, speaking gravely.
"You should try opening your heart and accepting all this, instead of clinging to outdated notions."
The Lion frowned again at Guilliman's lecture.
This self-righteous fellow really hadn't changed.
Eden glanced up at the falling streaks of fire in the sky and pulled out a special stasis ration box.
"Brother, while the assault forces are still forming up, we can take the first step of 'adapting.' Come taste the cuisine of the new Imperium."
His smile was hard to read as he spoke and activated the stasis box.
Inside it, meat glistened with a strange fragrance, translucent and jewel-like.
The Lion felt a pang of foreboding the moment he saw the box. When he saw the meat within, his expression changed completely.
A wave of nausea washed through him.
That was mutated Nurgle-beast greater daemon flesh – one of the Warp's vilest, most rotten entities, its body crawling with maggots. Even after special processing, the meat was still, in essence, a perfectly seasoned pile of shit.
He'd already been tricked into tasting it once by that damned nuisance.
The texture and flavor had actually been decent, but it left a psychological scar.
"Then... I'll try it."
The Lion drew a deep breath, steeled himself, and took the slice of mutated Nurgle beast meat from the Savior's hand.
He realized this was probably some sort of ritual, like a brotherhood initiation rite where you had to overcome some harsh trial to prove you were truly one of them.
A way to be accepted into the group.
Judging from the looks of things, the Savior, Guilliman, and the Khan had all "tasted" this wonderful delicacy already.
And since the Savior was extending trust and welcome to him, he couldn't just slap that gesture away.
"Brother, I've got some new Imperium cuisine as well. This one's in the Chogoris Plains style.
You should try it too. The flavor is excellent. Even Father has had some."
Just as the Lion took the meat from Eden, he heard the Khan's hearty voice.
The White Scars Primarch had produced his own portion of mutated Nurgle beast meat, apparently further processed and seasoned with local spices. It gleamed an unhealthy green.
The Lion watched this, his face visibly turning the same shade. His body trembled.
"This... this ritual... you make every returning brother eat this?"
That was exactly how it worked.
This odd little ritual had started with the Savior.
After he fell victim, he made sure his dear brother Guilliman got a taste. After Guilliman finished, he insisted on taking a portion of the "secret delicacy" along – he wasn't about to suffer alone.
When the Khan returned, he likewise sampled both the Savior's and Guilliman's secret dishes, then set aside a portion of his own to treat the next brother.
They had even risked slipping some to the Emperor's clone, letting the old man get a taste before fleeing at top speed.
Now that the Lion had returned, he was being treated by three Primarch brothers at once. He had to sample all their "secret recipes" to complete this tradition.
In a way, it was also a test: whether he could accept them, and whether he was willing to join them as one of the group... rather than fighting alone.
"Urgh...
Very... nice. Especially your secret recipe, Khan. Truly... unique..."
Tears in his eyes, the Lion forced down the meat from two of his Primarch brothers' "secret recipes," then calmly wiped the corner of his mouth.
"Such a delicious and distinctive food... save me a portion, will you? I'd like to study how it's made."
He was already planning to craft a secret recipe of his own, to treat the other brothers in turn. He remembered that his Dark Age relic vault still held some ancient spices, the most extreme, searing heat imaginable.
He was sure they would pair extraordinarily well with mutated Nurgle beast meat.
"Good man. From now on, you're family."
Eden and the Khan both clapped the Lion warmly on the shoulder and generously gifted him a big chunk of mutated Nurgle beast meat.
Once you've shared various flavors of gourmet "shit" together, how can you not be brothers?
"New war materiel is about to arrive. Brother, fight alongside us this time. Get a feel for the new Imperium's way of war."
Eden looked at the Lion with genuine enthusiasm.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
At that moment, countless meteoric streaks slammed into the ground.
(End of Chapter)
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