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Chapter 117: The Hunt for Star Gods
Raven fixed his gaze on Kor Phaeron. "This is a battle of faith. Find traces of other gods and you'll be cleared of all charges."
"If you can't prove their existence, then you're guilty of malicious guidance, leading humanity to worship false gods that don't exist."
The chamber fell silent. Every eye turned to the Master of Mankind, waiting for his judgment. The Emperor had remained silent until now, but when he spoke, his words rang with absolute authority.
"Lorgar," he said, addressing his son directly. "I forgive your past transgression as your ignorance, but from this moment, you cannot spread the idea that I am a god. Understand this well: there exists no God, only Man and his indomitable will. The Imperium of Mankind grew not in blind fanaticism, but by the blood and efforts of breathing humanity.
His golden gaze swept across the assembled Primarchs. "Only by believing in your effort and overcoming trials can you achieve wisdom."
He looked at Raven, who nodded to him. Valdor understood this silent agreement.
The Emperor then turned to address not just his son but all present, "Raven may appear as a charlatan, but know this well, he would never succumb to anyone's will, especially not some proclaimed god. His ideology is for humanity to live as humans, our simple joys, that ensures even in our darkest times, we do not forget who we are and what we fight for."
The Emperor's attention shifted to Kor Phaeron. "As for you, you will do what Master Raven said. Go to the Daemon Hunting Corps as their priest. Search for traces of these other gods you claim exist. If you can't prove it, you face death."
Lorgar felt sick, as if he'd swallowed something rotten. His mind reeled, desperately searching for some argument, some theological point that could salvage this disaster. But he found nothing.
Raven's power was too terrifying, stronger than any deity sung about in the sacred texts of countless worlds. The Emperor himself didn't even acknowledge the Golden-Armoured Messiah he had proclaimed for so long. Only this absurd God of Fries and Ketchup, as spoken by Raven, received divine recognition.
What could he do? What argument could stand against such an overwhelming demonstration of power?
"I understand," Lorgar finally nodded, his face showing bitter acceptance. The words tasted like ash in his mouth.
The Emperor looked around at the assembled gathering and issued his final decree.
"From today onwards, within the Empire, only three beliefs shall be spread: the Imperial Truth, the Omnissiah, and the God of Fries and Ketchup."
His voice carried absolute authority. "Any vermin that promotes other religions, their leaders shall be reduced to dust. Their ignorant followers shall be sent to farming worlds to grow potatoes and tomatoes. There they stay until the Decree of God of Fries and Ketchup forgives them."
"This decree will be transmitted to Terra and implemented throughout the entire Imperium."
Raven nodded with deep satisfaction. This was precisely how it should be. If humanity refused to believe in the great God of Fries and Ketchup, would they instead fall to the Four Chaos Gods? Absolutely not.
Let the galaxy embrace the divine truth of perfectly prepared fries.
With Lorgar assigned to continued study alongside his brother Primarchs, the two most dangerous individuals had been dealt with.
Kor Phaeron and Erebus were dispatched to the Daemon Hunting Corps, officially beginning the plan to cultivate Chaos-hunting specialists from the very architects of future corruption.
The Emperor turned his attention to matters of state, reviewing battle reports from the various expedition fleets scattered across the galaxy. During this routine review, he received unexpected and welcome news.
The 11th Expedition Fleet had discovered something extraordinary: a tomb world of the Necron Dynasty. The detection instruments aboard their flagship had registered the distinct energy fluctuations of a C'tan fragment.
After the War in Heaven, the weakened C'tan had been betrayed by their Necron servants. The star gods were shattered into countless fragments, either imprisoned in tesseract labyrinths or used as living batteries.
Only the most powerful dynasties had possessed the strength to harness C'tan fragments as energy sources during that ancient age.
The 11th Expedition Fleet, wisely, had not acted rashly. They immediately contacted the First Fleet, where the Emperor commanded, seeking instructions for their next course of action.
"Finally," the Emperor murmured, studying the report in his hands. A rare smile played at the corner of his mouth. "C'tan fragments. The energy supply for the temporal anchor has been located."
"Oh yeah! Let's punch some C'tan and kick Necron metal!" Raven threw his hands up, swaying his corvid head back and forth in the air while shouting with unrestrained excitement.
The C'tan Fragment Acquisition Project was about to begin.
"Give my orders to the fleet," the Emperor turned to Valdor. "We leave immediately. Set course to meet the 11th Expedition Fleet."
"Yes, my Lord." Valdor bowed and departed to relay the commands.
The Emperor set down the data-slate and walked to the vast porthole that dominated one wall of his private study. From this vantage point, he could overlook the entire length of the Emperor's Grand Design, his flagship and the mightiest vessel in the Imperial fleet.
The massive prow ram extended like a golden spear into the void. The majestic double-headed eagle sculpture spread its wings across the forward section, a symbol of Imperial might that could be seen from dozens of kilometres away.
Along the hull's flanks, grand sculptures alternated with macro-cannon muzzles, each weapon capable of cracking continents. Shield generators, sensor arrays, and navigation equipment covered every surface in a testament to human engineering.
The Emperor gazed at his flagship briefly, then cast his vision into the infinite darkness beyond. The C'tan had once been the gods of the material universe, wielding power over stars and reality itself. Now their destiny would be to serve humanity, to fuel the great cause of the Human Empire's expansion across the galaxy.
The departure order spread quickly through the fleet's communication networks. One by one, the engines of mighty battleships roared to life. Plasma drives released radiance as brilliant as that of newborn stars, transforming the void around the fleet into a constellation of human power.
The Emperor's Grand Design was the first to break orbit, its massive bulk sliding gracefully away from the system's gravity well and heading into interstellar space. Other warships followed in perfect formation, creating a magnificent procession of Imperial might stretching across the darkness.
At the edge of the star system, the fleet opened a Warp passage. They set course for the 311 Draco Binary Cluster to rendezvous with the waiting 11th Expedition Fleet.
The First Fleet sailed along one of the Warp's main arteries, riding the ethereal currents that could carry them across vast distances in compressed time. Aided by favourable conditions and the Emperor's own psychic presence stabilising their passage, they reached the designated star system within a standard week.
The tomb world Bol'rind served as the eternal resting place of the Magadha Dynasty. This Necron dynasty was ancient beyond human comprehension; they had existed when the Necrons were still flesh-and-blood Necrontyr, walking beneath alien suns with mortal hearts beating in their chests.
They had participated in the first bitter war between the Necrontyr and the Old Ones, a conflict born of jealousy toward races blessed with longer lives.
They had also fought in the War in Heaven, that galaxy-spanning apocalypse that followed after the desperate Necrontyr accepted the C'tan's seductive offer of immortality.
The dynasty had witnessed the entire tragic transformation, the Necrontyr's willing surrender of flesh and soul to become the undying Necrons, and the cosmic devastation that followed.
The Phaerons who ruled this dynasty bore the title Tyrrakhis the Silent Crown. Under his command served numerous Phaerons and Necron Overlords, each one a former living being now trapped in a living metal body.
Since the War in Heaven's end sixty million years ago, the Magadha Dynasty had obeyed the Silent King's final command. They entered the Great Sleep, waiting for the galaxy to heal enough for their awakening.
After the First Fleet and 11th Fleet completed their rendezvous, they executed a careful warp-jump to the outer edge of the tomb world's star system. They deliberately avoided entering the inner system, hoping to prevent triggering whatever automated defences might still function after aeons of slumber.
The Emperor convened an immediate strategic meeting. Before facing such ancient and powerful foes, a comprehensive battle plan was essential.
The enemy they faced represented one of the most significant challenges in the galaxy's history. The Necrons had once been the undisputed overlords of all known space; their technology was so advanced that it bordered on the divine.
The Human Empire had grown strong during the Great Crusade. Even auxiliary troops now received enhancement serums, wore powered exoskeletons, and carried weapons that would have been considered miraculous in earlier ages.
Astartes warriors commonly possessed Gene Engine implants, granting them combat abilities comparable to the demigods of ancient myth.
But despite all their advantages, once battle commenced, victory remained far from certain.
With C'tan assistance, the pre-slumber Necrons had achieved technological mastery beyond current human understanding.
They had perfected dimensional manipulation, singularity control, atomic transmutation, elemental illusion, and even limited temporal manipulation. Most terrifying of all, they had traded away their souls and flesh to the star gods, receiving in exchange bodies of living metal.
Powerful in combat, nearly indestructible in defence. When damaged beyond function, they could return to their tomb forges via phase-shift technology, where their bodies would be reformed and made whole again.
Capable of fighting, enduring damage, and returning from destruction, the Necrons were undoubtedly one of the greatest threats the Human Empire faced in realspace.
The other major threat was the Orks, whose seemingly endless capacity for warfare and rapid reproduction made them a formidable foe, even to humans wielding technology from different universes.
Inside the strategy chamber of the Emperor's Grand Design, high-ranking generals and Primarchs gathered around a massive tactical display. The projection's pale light illuminated their faces as they discussed the coming battle, each mind focused on the enormous challenge ahead.
"The C'tan fragment is located here—," Raven pointed to the central display, highlighting a planetary body that dominated the system's inner region. "—contained within a planet-sized war engine constructed during the War in Heaven itself."
Through his ability to read cosmic information, he had already absorbed complete intelligence about the Magadha Necron Dynasty and their capabilities.
"You're telling us this entire planet is a war engine?" Dorn leaned forward, his fortress-builder's mind struggling to comprehend the scale. Surprise colored his normally stoic tone.
"Precisely," Raven nodded. "It's called the World Engine. At its core lies a fragment of Yggra'nya, the World Shaper, one of the most powerful C'tan to exist."
"This C'tan fragment serves as the engine's primary power source, generating enough energy to drive the massive war machine. Once fully activated, its weapons can easily destroy entire worlds. It possesses enough firepower to extinguish a star and obliterate every planet in a solar system."
Raven magnified the projection, allowing everyone to observe the World Engine in detail. The construct appeared completely shrouded in violent silver storm clouds, with terrifying lightning raging continuously within the atmospheric layer.
It resembled a climate-devastated, death world more than an artificial construct, but only detailed sensor readings revealed its true mechanical nature.
"Such a terrifying enemy," Guilliman observed, his strategic mind already calculating the implications of losses they would suffer in this battle. His tone carried appropriate solemnity for the threat they faced.
The Necrons had slumbered for sixty million years, yet they still retained weapons of such devastating power. How impossibly mighty must this race have been during their active period?
"Attacking the World Engine will certainly trigger the entire Necron Dynasty's awakening," Raven continued, his voice carrying the weight of inevitable consequences.
"This will be a brutal campaign. Even with Gene Engine enhancements, our forces will face significant casualties against Necron weaponry."
He paused, ensuring everyone understood the gravity of their situation before continuing with tactical recommendations.
"The Necrons' greatest weakness lies in their inability to perceive or interact with Warp energy. Therefore, each legion should prioritise deploying psykers and units with psychic abilities for this engagement."
Following Raven's previous suggestions, the Human Empire had established organisations like the Night Watchers and the Psionic Academy. Various Astartes Legions had also begun systematically training recruits with psychic talents, forming specialised Librarius units to handle supernatural threats.
"Why not simply use orbital bombardment to destroy them?" Perturabo interjected, his expertise in siege warfare focusing on the most direct solution.
"The World Engine certainly possesses shield systems, but with sufficient concentrated firepower, we should be able to crack this shell open."
"Destroying the enemy is not our primary objective," Raven replied firmly. "We need those C'tan fragments intact. They represent the most powerful energy sources available in real space; nothing else can match their output."
The strategic meeting continued for several hours as the Emperor, his Primarchs, and the fleet's senior generals worked through detailed battle plans and contingency options.
Every possible scenario was examined, from best-case victories to worst-case disasters requiring emergency withdrawal.
All plans shared a single, uncompromising goal: acquire the fragments of Yggra'nya, the World Shaper, by any means necessary.
When the strategic session finally concluded, the Emperor surveyed the assembled commanders. These were the finest military minds in the Human Empire, each one proven in countless campaigns across the galaxy.
"Today," his voice carried the absolute confidence that had united Terra and launched humanity toward the stars, "We shall add another glorious victory to our records."
"Victory!" The response erupted from dozens of throats simultaneously, filling the chamber with the sound of absolute determination.
"Return to your battle stations," the Emperor commanded. "Commence operations."
The command personnel departed swiftly, each returning to their ships and units to prepare for the coming battle. The holographic projection flickered several times before disappearing, leaving the strategy chamber in relative darkness.
Soon, only the Emperor and several of his Primarchs remained in the war room, the quiet before the storm settling around them.
"Let us proceed to the command deck," the Emperor said to his sons, ready to lead humanity into battle against the ancient lords of the galaxy.
[End of Chapter]