Chapter 410: You Might Be the Calamity Itself! The Empire Trembles!
Guilliman sat silently inside the ship's cabin, deep in thought. He was contemplating how to negotiate with the executives of the Universal Megacorp to secure the greatest possible benefits for the Imperium.
Soon, as the Ultramarines' ship decelerated and landed, Guilliman and his entourage arrived on what appeared to be a "small planetoid."
Accompanied by a security detail, Guilliman strode forward with steady, powerful steps, setting foot on this alien territory.
Even with the ever-present threat of a fatal ambush, the Ultramarines remained completely unfazed. They carried themselves with calm composure, as if they had returned to their own homeland.
It was precisely because of the unwavering will of the Adeptus Astartes that the Imperium of Man had managed to stand toe-to-toe with the Chaos Gods, daemons, and the myriad xenos species of the galaxy.
Humanity's unbreakable resolve and towering physical might were the reasons the Imperium had endured countless calamities and yet never fallen.
Now, standing outside, Guilliman waited patiently for representatives of the Megacorp to arrive.
He didn't have to wait long. Within five minutes, Terrance had dispatched Panam Wells and a squad of Steel Legion soldiers to greet them.
When Guilliman laid eyes on the Megacorp's soldiers—matching his own men in size and wearing similarly styled powered armor—he couldn't help but be taken aback again.
Were it not for the obvious cybernetic components embedded in their bodies, Guilliman might have mistaken them for warriors of the Imperium's own IV Legion—Ferrus Manus' Iron Hands.
"Lord Guilliman, please come with us now," said Panam Wells, expressionless, meeting the gaze of these 'original model' walking tanks without flinching. Despite their similarities in form, both sides served different masters.
Thus, during this first encounter, neither side let down their guard—in fact, tension only grew.
No one could quite gauge the true strength of the other.
Guilliman gave a slight nod and followed Panam Wells forward, eventually arriving at a Shield World-class ship.
What greeted them inside this strangely styled vessel left Guilliman and his guards deeply shaken.
Was this truly a ship?
No, this wasn't just a planet—it was a nested planet, a massive internalized space constructed within the ship.
Guilliman was astonished.
Unknown sea creatures swam freely across the sky, elk wandered through mountain forests, and leopards raced along ocean shores. Entire cities drifted and reconfigured themselves in a multidimensional, layered matrix of living space.
The surreal, dreamlike environment made it feel as if gravity itself no longer applied to this universe.
Inside the Shield World, they couldn't even see where the ship's outer hull ended. All they saw were Infinity, kaleidoscopic marvels flooding their vision.
"Your spatial technology is truly awe-inspiring," Guilliman exclaimed with genuine admiration. In this area, the Imperium of Man truly couldn't compare.
Unlike the Megacorp, which had built its empire off scavenging and lucky draws, the Imperium funneled nearly all its resources into warfare.
This was necessary to revive the glory of humanity's Golden Age as quickly as possible.
Meanwhile, the Megacorp's folding cities, shield worlds, ringworlds, and Dyson spheres—these dazzling megastructures and technologies—were mostly acquired rather than developed.
While they might not offer overwhelming practical benefits, they certainly dazzled.
Sometimes, the power of a civilization is best showcased not through brute force, but through artistic feats so costly only the mighty could afford them.
After all, a civilization starving for resources would never waste them like this.
With material abundance came high levels of personal and spiritual fulfillment.
"Thank you for the compliment," Panam Wells replied, as stoic as ever. "Now, allow me to briefly walk you through your itinerary over the next few days."
Led by Panam Wells, Guilliman and his entourage entered a specialized recreation area that included the Megacorp's Dreamscape Club, Oasis gaming zones, bars, and a multitude of other entertainment venues.
Everything indulgent and luxurious could be found here.
This wasn't a display of decadence on the Megacorp's part. It was simply the natural result of overwhelming industrial productivity—every possible human desire had become a standard amenity.
Under Li Ang's centralized planning and distribution system, human civilization had already entered the highest form of utopia. Currency had become obsolete.
With mega-factories spanning countless universes producing resources nonstop, humans under the Megacorp's rule lived in a world of unparalleled abundance. Money and work no longer held meaning.
Everyone could pursue their heart's desires freely. Even those who chose to live idly or do nothing were never judged. They could live out their lives peacefully.
Those who sought self-improvement simply needed to look up—the path to ascension stretched before them like a stairway to heaven. How far they could climb was entirely up to them.
As Panam Wells guided Guilliman through the tour, he outlined the coming schedule: a welcome ceremony, a formal meeting, a multiversal inspection tour, and finally—a military parade.
Especially during the parade, the Megacorp would unveil a portion of its strategic arsenal—for instance, allowing the Imperials to witness firsthand how a Heaven- Scorching Divine Armament Titan harvested raw materials.
And to show the effects of neutron-purge weapons cleansing heretical species.
Of course, the Megacorp wouldn't go out of its way to target innocent civilizations just for show.
Instead, they would use failed civilizations cultivated from World Seeds as subjects for this round of purging.
While not exactly fair, it was still logical.
A god-tier civilization capable of independently engineering intelligent life, reshaping space-time dimensions, and enabling casual faster-than-light travel should be more than enough to eliminate any delusions the Imperium's schemers might have.
This demonstration would also help smooth the process of unifying the Warhammer universe under Megacorp control.
Although the Megacorp didn't yet have deep intelligence channels within the Imperium, it was easy to imagine the seismic shifts that would follow once their existence and capabilities became known.
First and foremost, the Adeptus Mechanicus would undoubtedly become fascinated with the Megacorp.
The so-called Mechanicus was a major Martian faction within the Imperium. They worshipped the Omnissiah—the Machine God—and believed all machines had souls, controlled by His will.
Whether a machine worked or not depended on whether its machine-spirit was pleased.
To outsiders, they seemed like raving cultists. But beneath their mysticism lay a fanatical and almost pathological devotion to knowledge.
Especially when it came to technological relics passed down from the Golden Age of Humanity—they lusted after them with utter abandon.
It's no exaggeration to say that even an ancient STC module could become the object of their fetishistic obsession and cerebral climax.
If such an abstractly obsessed group were to discover the Megacorp and its mastery of multiversal technologies?
They would stop at nothing to submit, eager to bask in the glory of the Megacorp's scientific nexus, ready to offer up their loyalty and prayers to this new pantheon of knowledge.
To avoid unnecessary complications, it was essential to display the Megacorp's military might appropriately.
That said, these knowledge-crazed zealots could indeed accelerate the Megacorp's scientific advancements.
At the very least, Alt Cunningham—the Megacorp's chief science officer—would welcome them with open arms.
Several days passed, and the welcome ceremony and formal meeting hosted by the Universal Megacorp for Guilliman arrived right on schedule.
Executives from all departments of the Megacorp met with him—all except Li Ang, the Supreme Executive himself.
Perhaps it was the absence of the Megacorp's top authority that left Guilliman slightly underwhelmed and somewhat disappointed.
Yet during this period, thanks to his keen political instincts, Guilliman keenly observed the immense cohesion and highly refined political system within the Megacorp.
This gave him a sobering realization about the vast internal disparity between the Imperium and this interstellar Megacorp.
Should the two sides go to war, the Imperium might not unleash its usual overwhelming force—but instead find itself smashing headfirst into a wall of steel.
With a sense of awe and caution, Guilliman proceeded to tour the various realms of the Megacorp alongside its high-ranking officials—inspecting their industrial and scientific sectors.
> "In you, I see the radiance of humanity's Golden Age."
That was Guilliman's heartfelt reaction upon witnessing:
Gigantic megastructures
Star-system-scale manufacturing zones
Arks producing photonic halos
Industrial districts mass-producing AIs via matrix replication
His knees felt weak. His heart pounded in his chest. Even his battle-hardened face, tanned from centuries of war, flushed red with excitement.
The Megacorp possessed far too many technologies that would make even the Emperor himself leap with joy.
Unfortunately, the Emperor was not here to witness these marvels.
After the inspection, Guilliman was invited to attend a grand military parade hosted by the Megacorp.
When thousands of legions, each composed of various flagship-class vessels, passed before his eyes, Guilliman instinctively began comparing them to the Imperial Navy's own flagships.
But to his dismay, in the current era of the Megacorp, ship size and quantity had long ceased to hold any meaning.
With the emergence of warships like the Divine Armament Titans, Xeelee Nightfighters, and Neutron Warstars, what the Imperium once considered flagships had been demoted to standard-grade equipment.
Trying to assess the Megacorp's strength using outdated Imperial metrics was no longer valid.
Only by discarding old notions about tonnage and armaments—and instead focusing on a warship's actual strategic value—could one begin to comprehend the Megacorp's bone-deep, visceral terror.
> "You… might be the calamity itself."
Guilliman murmured under his breath.
Panam Wells, who had accompanied him throughout the tour, remained stoic—he agreed completely.
But the Universal Megacorp did not exist merely to destroy or erase civilizations.
Even those who stubbornly resisted—once obliterated—would often be cloned anew, their cultural legacies preserved, reintroduced under the radiance of the Megacorp's dominion.
> "If only we had made contact with you sooner… The Great Crusade might already be over."
Guilliman couldn't help but feel a sense of bittersweet regret.
With the Megacorp's safe and efficient interstellar travel, immense military might, and star-system-scale production capabilities, the Imperium could have wiped out all resistance in the galaxy within a decade—restoring humanity's Golden Age.
At that moment, Guilliman completely let go of his hostility toward the Megacorp.
While the Emperor's leadership had seemingly brought about a new Imperial resurgence, Guilliman knew the truth: the Chaos Gods of the Warp and countless xenos empires still posed lethal threats.
Moreover, after more than two centuries of the Great Crusade draining Imperial resources, many factions within the Imperium were growing restless.
Internal strife had already begun—and was rapidly intensifying.
In the face of both internal instability and external threats, the Imperium was in no shape to engage in further large-scale conflict.
More importantly, the Megacorp was a human regime—its leadership composed of true humans.
Though they came from a different universe, their blood, customs, language, and appearance were practically indistinguishable from those of the Imperium.
No matter what, the Megacorp should not be treated as an enemy.
> "I will report everything I've seen here to the Emperor. May the friendship between the Imperium and the Megacorp transcend the bounds of time and space—uniting our two universes' human civilizations once more!"
Guilliman made this solemn pledge to executives like V and Morgan Blackhand.
Regardless of how other Imperial factions might respond, Guilliman himself would firmly advise the Emperor that the only path forward with the Megacorp was alliance, never hostility.
The towering figure of V, standing a full head taller than Guilliman, grasped his hand and spoke with heartfelt conviction:
> "It is our sacred duty to rekindle the glory of mankind."
> "I hope that one day, we may march side by side, letting humanity's brilliance shine across the multiverse!"
> "We will. Without a doubt."
Guilliman nodded solemnly. After the parade concluded, he took with him some of the Megacorp's exotic goods and official tokens, then stepped back through the Star Gate—returning to the Warhammer Universe.
---
One month later.
When Guilliman relayed all that he had seen and experienced to Terra, the entire upper echelon of the Imperium was shaken to the core.
If it hadn't come directly from Guilliman's own mouth, no one would've believed that in another universe, a human civilization had reached the apex of Golden Age technology.
Suddenly, countless voices rose in clamorous waves, echoing into the innermost depths of the Imperial Palace.
Especially among the Tech-Priests of Mars, who now longed to fly immediately to the Megacorp's Scientific Nexus, desperate to witness the miracles Guilliman had described.
And then—there he stood.
A towering, broad-shouldered man clad in resplendent golden power armor, unmoving in a corner of the palace, gazing out into the distant stars.
Everything Guilliman had said replayed in his mind.
> "The Universal Megacorp…"
A low, rumbling voice drifted from his lips.
He—was the Emperor.
Supreme ruler of the Imperium of Man.
Wielder of unmatched power and psychic prowess.
The very embodiment of humanity's hope for resurgence.
He had returned to Terra to unify mankind's fractured factions, to forge the Imperium anew, and to launch the Great Crusade to spread its martial might.
He had also begun research on the Webway of the Old Ones, but the project was barely ten percent complete when his psychic foresight revealed a tragic fate—one where he would remain forever seated upon the Golden Throne.
The stronger a psyker's power, the more accurate his visions.
Though he did not yet know the exact cause of his downfall, he was certain of one thing:
It was inextricably linked to the Chaos Gods lurking within the Warp.
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