The Thunder Warriors were dying.
Once, they had been the mightiest soldiers on Terra—gene-forged titans that crushed warlords and tyrants beneath their unstoppable advance. But their time had come and gone, their bodies riddled with genetic instability, their minds unstable, their purpose fulfilled. The Emperor of old had ordered their eradication, fearing their flaws would undermine his grand vision.
But he was not the Emperor of old.
Standing atop the highest peak of the Himalazian fortress, his golden gaze swept across the ruins of Old Earth. He could feel them—scattered remnants of warriors abandoned, betrayed, hunted like animals. These were not mindless brutes. They were men, created for war yet discarded like broken weapons.
Not anymore.
With but a thought, his consciousness expanded outward, stretching across the planet like an unseen tide. Each Thunder Warrior, no matter how far they had fallen, no matter how deep they had hidden, felt his presence. A voice, neither a whisper nor a command, but a promise.
Come to me.
It was not compulsion, nor was it manipulation. It was truth. And they answered.
Within hours, the mightiest of Terra's lost warriors gathered before the great gates of his fortress. Hundreds had perished in the years of exile, but thousands remained. Scarred, bloodied, their crude power armor worn and battered, yet still, they stood. These were men forged in the crucible of unrelenting war, and despite everything, they had endured.
He descended from his throne, striding forth as golden lightning crackled around his form. The Thunder Warriors fell silent as they beheld him, a being who was more than a man, more than a god—a force of will given form.
The one who had created them.
Their leader, Argento, stepped forward. His face was grim, his voice hoarse from years of war and betrayal. "So," he said, his tone both bitter and wary, "you've come to finish what you started?"
The Emperor—no, the true Emperor—tilted his head slightly. "No."
The simple word sent a ripple through the gathered warriors. Their hands clenched around their weapons, their broken bodies tensed, their eyes burned with disbelief.
"I have not come to destroy you," he continued. "I have come to save you."
There was silence, then laughter. Harsh, broken laughter. One of the warriors, his body shaking from genetic degradation, spat onto the ground. "Save us? We're already dead."
The Emperor stepped forward, his golden eyes locking onto the warrior's. "You are dying. But you are not dead." His voice was not kind, nor was it cruel. It was simply truth. "I will make you greater than you ever were. Stronger. Faster. Your minds will be clear, your bodies eternal. You will no longer be flawed."
The warriors stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the impossible. The very being who had cast them aside now offered them salvation.
Argento narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
The Emperor's gaze burned with the radiance of a thousand suns. "Because you are my sons. Because you were made to be the mightiest of warriors, and I will not see you wasted."
A single gesture, and reality itself bent to his will. The air shimmered, golden light cascading over the gathered warriors as his power took hold. Their failing organs regenerated, their corrupted genetics purged and rewritten with perfection. Their armor, once crude and battered, reformed, reshaped into something grander, something worthy of true warriors. Their minds, once ravaged by instability, cleared—no longer mere weapons, but men of reason, of clarity, of purpose.
The Thunder Warriors gasped, eyes wide as they felt their new bodies—stronger than ever before, yet unburdened by pain, by degradation, by death. They had been reforged.
The Emperor stepped back, regarding his work. These were no longer the broken remnants of a forgotten army. They were something new.
Something greater.
He spoke again, and this time, his voice carried across all of Terra, a proclamation that would shake the very foundation of history.
"You were the first of my warriors, and you will be the first of my legions. You shall no longer be cast aside. You shall lead the Great Crusade. You shall be the Vanguard of Humanity's Ascension."
The warriors knelt.
Not in submission.
But in absolute, unbreakable loyalty.
The Imperium was truly beginning.