"Great master, you—do you mean… you want me to replace the original? You want me… to become the new gene-primarch?" The clone Lorgar stared at Rhodes in disbelief and asked.
Since following his new master, he had received unimaginable benefits. Over a mere dozen years, his power had transformed beyond recognition.
First, he had fused with the cosmic phantom-beast Behemoth, gaining the ability to travel faster than light through space with his physical body.
His life level had risen countless times above the original's, and he had gained gigantification along with calamity-like combat strength; if he returned to the Great Crusade era now, he could utterly crush his true self.
What bliss. And now, back on Holy Terra, he was repeatedly summoned by his master, who even proposed something beyond his imagination.
"You heard right, Lorgar. You will formally become a true gene-primarch. You will become Lorgar's true self, a primarch of the Imperium—and the founder of the state church." Rhodes smiled at the excited Lorgar before him.
"How is that possible? The Emperor—He's willing to forgive my original… but what about my original? What does he say?" Lorgar asked, agitated.
This matter shook him so hard he was at a loss.
"I've arranged everything. You will be the founder of the state church. You will be the pontiff. You will not only spread faith in the Emperor, but also faith in me. I will become the Imperium's second god—do you understand? You will write the new ecclesiastical canon." Rhodes said.
That was the main objective. No one knew proselytizing better than Lorgar.
"Building a new canon atop the scriptures my original wrote—no problem. But, great master, this could be done in secret. There's no need for me to stand out in the open," Lorgar said.
"No, no. This time you must stand in the open. You must thoroughly humiliate the Lorgar in the Realm of Chaos—the Lorgar who betrayed the Imperium.
"And remember this: from today on, you are the true Lorgar, a gene-primarch created by the Emperor.
"You took part in the Great Crusade. That fool hiding in the Warp, in the Realm of Chaos—the traitor—is the real clone, a monster fabricated by the heretics," Rhodes said.
We must set the narrative. You are the real one. As long as the Emperor backs you and I back you, no one can refute it.
If Rhodes weren't the Imperial heir apparent, the crown prince, he wouldn't expose the clone Lorgar. But now that the Emperor had decided to share part of humanity's faith with him, Lorgar became crucial.
"I understand, great master. From today on, I am the true Lorgar. I will write a new canon for you, spread it throughout humanity, and dovetail it perfectly with what I wrote before," Lorgar said.
"That's right. At the upcoming investiture for the new primarchs, you will return to the Imperium as a primarch who has slumbered for millennia.
"The Emperor will extract your current gene-seed to create a new legion," Rhodes said.
Having fused with the cosmic phantom-beast and become a super lifeform, this clone Lorgar's gene-seed could indeed be harvested. They would be a new Adeptus Astartes legion—not the Word Bearers.
They would be the Church's Protectors, guardians of the Emperor's and Rhodes's faith. Their new name had already been chosen: the Templars—a title harking back to the medieval age.
"Thank you, great master. Thank you for your grace, for your recognition. To follow you is the greatest honor of my life." Lorgar knelt, voice trembling.
He had been just a clone, only slightly stronger than a typical Astartes, carrying the original's memories—a defective product marked for disposal.
Yet his master discovered his talent and put it to use. Lorgar swore: from today on, he would live for his master, fight for his master.
"Remember: among the other primarchs, aside from Roboute Guilliman and Magnus, attitudes toward you may be unfriendly. You must endure it—understand?" Rhodes said.
"I understand, great master. Even if they swing fists into my face, I won't be angered. It's all for your plan," Lorgar said.
"And remember this: while I will receive part of humanity's faith, the Emperor must retain His. You are not to alter scripture to steal the Emperor's faith. This is crucial. Understand?" Rhodes said.
He had to make this clear up front. Otherwise, if the subordinate filled in the blanks and thought, "Does the master want me to infiltrate the state church and rewrite the faith to make people forget the Emperor?"—that would be disastrous.
Without humanity's hope empowering the Emperor, He could not suppress the Dark King. If the Dark King broke loose, everything would turn to smoke.
So no matter what, the Dark King must be suppressed. Until Rhodes reached the Four Chaos tier, enough faith must be maintained to energize the Emperor to keep the Dark King down.
If necessary, Rhodes even considered sending Zog to help—light is the bane of darkness.
Also, the Empera Blade could once absorb part of the Dark Emperor's power. If the Alien Empera made a move now, could he erase the Dark Emperor entirely?
That guy is the ultimate stirrer of trouble, dreaming of letting the Dark King loose—but he doesn't realize that once the Dark King emerges, both he and the Emperor will vanish!
"Rest assured, master. I understand. I'll direct at least thirty percent of humanity's faith to you, with the Emperor retaining seventy percent. Will that do?" Lorgar asked.
He didn't know why his great master didn't want to seize the Emperor's faith. As a subordinate, he just needed to obey.
"Make it eighty percent for the Emperor. I only need twenty. The Emperor critically needs humanity's faith—the light of hope." Rhodes said meaningfully.
Even the primarchs didn't know the Dark King's details. Only Rhodes knew the truth.
Even Guilliman and Magnus assumed the dark persona within the Emperor was the Dark King, but in fact, they were not the same.
The Emperor had told Rhodes he was only a small persona of the Dark King. The Dark King was far more terrifying than the four Chaos Gods.
As humanity's numbers grew, if the Dark King successfully manifested, that would be the day the entire universe perished.
Rhodes dared not gamble. One misstep would mean eternal doom.
With the Ultraman monster summoning system, Rhodes's growth potential was limitless. All he needed was time.
For this grand investiture, the other campaigning primarchs were not recalled. Only Rhodes, Elana, Magnus, and Guilliman participated.
…
A few days later, a grand ceremony was held on Holy Terra. The Emperor's avatar stood before the Imperial Palace, a 60-meter colossus that inspired awe and dread.
Golden radiance flowed from His body, suffused with sanctity—the very image in the people's hearts.
Some Imperials even thought the Emperor had risen from the Golden Throne and could once again walk abroad, since in recent years His avatars had indeed joined battles in various regions.
The Emperor often used His psychic might to dispatch these avatars to other war zones.
"My children of the Imperium, today is most special. Three new gene-primarchs will be invested. Two adults will receive their own Astartes legions, while one minor will do so in a few years," the Emperor's voice boomed, carried by psychic power across all Terra.
"Praise the great Emperor! Praise the new primarchs! Praise the Imperium of Man!"
"Loyalty and glory! They will illuminate the Imperium!" Nobles and commoners alike cheered.
The Custodians arrayed in perfect ranks lifted their weapons in salute.
"First, Rhodes, the Imperial Heir Apparent, firstborn, Stark. He is a naturally born primarch—the first ever.
"From birth, this child carried humanity's hope, the Imperium's hope.
"His childhood was forged in war. With his father, he launched crusades against humanity's foes and traitors, stepping onto the battlefield at sixteen," the Emperor began, introducing Stark.
Flight craft rose above the palace, assembling a massive holo-screen.
On it played Stark's birth and growth, and his battles at sixteen—against Orks, Tyranids, and other xenos.
The terrifying strength of a super lifeform and ferocious combat skill set Imperial blood aflame.
Though only sixteen, he inherited Rhodes and Elana's excellent genes, and, with his cosmic phantom-beast, wielded ice and fire.
Even in human form his prowess eclipsed the Custodes; once gigantic, his might defied mortal imagination.
The display even made Stark below the dais a bit embarrassed. All of this was his father's doing, by design!
"Honor the new primarch!"
"Hail to you! Blessings upon you, new primarch Stark!" the masses roared.
Common Imperials are easily swayed; the Emperor's word is truth—divine decree.
"Today, he has formally come of age. We have extracted his genetic material and crafted his gene-seed.
"His recruits will soon begin implantation. New Astartes will be born. A new Astartes Legion will be born," the Emperor's avatar proclaimed.
A newly formed 100,000-strong recruit cohort marched before the Emperor—boys from ten to fifteen, soon to undergo Astartes implantation. Thanks to med-bays, the modern Astartes surgeries now had a 100% success rate.
Virtually no risk of failure.
These recruits were all handpicked from families of unswerving loyalty to the Emperor—paragons of devotion.
"From now on you are the gene-sons of the new primarch. Now, pay respects to your future gene-father!"
"Homage to the great primarch! Homage to our gene-father!" All the recruits knelt, saluting Stark on the high dais.
"My gene-sons, soon you will bear my gene-seed. I look forward to seeing you become true Astartes, to fight for me and for the Imperium," Stark said.
"To fight for you, great gene-father!" the boys' voices rang to the heavens.
Next, they would undergo implantation and spend ten years in training.
They became the first legion to meet their gene-father before receiving gene-seed.
"Child, you have the right to name your legion. Name it now," the Emperor said.
The final step—today's climax. The new Astartes Legion would be given a name.
Stark nodded, thought for a moment, then spoke.
"Great Emperor, I have decided. My legion shall be called the Ice and Fire Dragon. My gene-sons will inherit my powers over frost and flame."
The name fit perfectly. His phantom-beast was a dragon; his powers were ice and fire—traits that would pass to his gene-sons.
"Very well. The Imperium's new legion, the Ice and Fire Dragon, is hereby founded, with an initial force of one hundred thousand," the Emperor said.
Stark's investiture concluded.
Next came Sterne. The Emperor repeated the process, delivering an address.
A new recruit cohort of several tens of thousands was likewise prepared for Sterne.
These recruits skewed younger—mostly under ten. Since three new primarchs were being invested, it wouldn't do for one to lack his own recruits, so Guilliman had arranged them on short notice.