"I hope you know what you're doing."
Blazkowicz waved, signaling Sophia backstage to ready the ship for the Gates of Heaven. "I'll rendezvous with you shortly."
Blazkowicz took Marie's hand and turned away, leaving the throne hall weighed down by worry, his brow furrowed.
"You seem unhappy?" Marie asked brightly, curiosity shining in her eyes.
Having watched everything unfold, the young girl could not yet grasp what benefit or harm the Emperor's deeds might bring to mankind.
She could only read the silent quarrel in minute expressions—her uncle's caution, the Emperor's resolve.
"Mm." Blazkowicz did not deny it. As they walked the palace corridor, shadows from the colonnades slid repeatedly across him.
What the Emperor did shielded many souls from Chaos, sparing them from daemonic hunger.
But every boon bears a price, especially when souls are involved.
A single world spirit can soothe only so many human souls, and even that must be done with utmost care.
To Warp-born entities, a great concentration of human souls is a banquet, drawing filthy things eager to feast.
Worse, when enough souls gather, a new collective will inevitably coalesce.
Such concretions of shared consciousness are rare in the Real Universe; in the Warp they are called gods—or daemons—
"You needn't trouble yourself with such things." Blazkowicz smiled down at Marie. "As a scion of the Nowick Royal Family, you have the right to the universe's secrets."
"Yet many of them are dark, terrible, and seductive—beyond your strength for now. When your mind is ready, the Scholastica Psykana will invite you."
"I understand." Marie nodded obediently. "You're protecting Argent Nur."
Perceptive as she was, she knew dark truths should stay hidden, left in shadow to warn, never paraded before the public eye.
Recent Argent Nur history had been stormy: old King Nowick's death, Uncle Ennio's departure, the sacrifice of half the Sentinels.
The truth of those events resided in the Scholastica Psykana, worlds away from the history the masses knew.
"Go back now." Blazkowicz released his niece's hand at the top of the palace steps and beckoned a Palace Guard.
Marie curtsied gracefully, lifted her skirts, and departed under escort, her slim figure vanishing round a corner.
Blazkowicz sat on the corridor rail, watching birds and blossoms in the courtyard. After a long while he rose, boarded his ship, and set course for the Gates of Heaven.
Beside Royal Majesty, old glory passed through the star gate.
Blazkowicz mustered the entire Legion to accompany him to Pandora, lest any mishap occur.
What the Emperor now planned might help or harm mankind—no one yet knew—but it was tantamount to snatching sustenance from the Chaos Gods, striking at their very interests.
The Chaos Gods' hunger for souls is woven into their nature; they would never stand idle.
And indeed, they did not.
Blazkowicz arrived with Blazkowicz to join the Emperor. Sanguinius wore the Armor of Kings' Glory, the Spear of Telesto in his right hand, the Vermilion Blade in his left, his beautiful face stern.
Lion ElJonson was likewise arrayed in black heavy knight plate, an ancient flintlock at his hip, a huge Chainsword in hand, head lowered in grim readiness.
From their war-gear alone it was plain the Emperor had revealed at least some of the danger.
"So you support my plan?" The Emperor gestured to the warships beyond the port; the whole Destroyer Legion declared Blazkowicz's stance and resolve.
He valued this in Blazkowicz: grasp of the greater picture, the resolve to choose rightly when the way grew tangled.
"We sail the same ship," Blazkowicz answered evenly. "I entrust Pandora to you; I will respect your judgment."
Having stated his position, Blazkowicz left the Emperor and walked straight up to Lion ElJonson.
"Brother," he said, letting the earlier chill slip away. "You are the Eldest Son, first among us in blood; I should call you 'elder brother.'"
The title made Lion straighten unconsciously, a smile breaking across his statuesque severity.
On Caliban he had been the lonely lion.
His wisdom surpassed that of mortals, his strength none could rival, and from those gifts pride had naturally grown.
Yet that pride was lonely. mortal praise was too feeble to understand him, and adoration only deepened his emptiness.
When the Emperor arrived on Caliban, Lion El'Jonson learned he had twenty brothers and felt a surge of joy.
The news did not humble him; instead, he felt he had at last found equals who deserved his recognition—and who would recognize him.
The surprises did not end there. Learning he had twenty brothers, Lion realized the number etched on his gestation pod left no doubt: he was the Eldest Son.
Eldest Son! What a glorious title—a station that set him apart from the very beginning.
As he accompanied the Emperor to Terra, his calm exterior masked a restless mind. While he pondered how to win his brothers' unique respect, the ship suddenly veered through the Warp and emerged above the Nur Stars.
"Brother."
Sanguinius' greeting brimmed with warmth, yet it was one of equals, lacking the deference Lion secretly craved.
He showed nothing on his face, but inside he felt a pang of regret.
Seeing Blazkowicz's towering frame and sensing the power within, Lion shivered instinctively. Witnessing the thriving Nur Stars under his brother's rule, he knew his own task was immense.
"I should call you elder brother."
A thousand tiny sparks raced through Lion—like cold water down a parched throat, every pore opening to breathe.
Elder brother was more than a title; it was recognition from a brother.
Whatever the depth of that acceptance, whatever ulterior motives it might hold, it was real, without a trace of falsehood.
"It matters not—between you and me, formality is unnecessary."
A broad smile broke across Lion's stern face. He raised a hand to clasp Blazkowicz's shoulder, then, remembering their difference in height, settled for patting his brother's arm.
His stay on Argent Nur was brief, yet the information he gathered was considerable.
The Novick Family had an Eldest Son; Blazkowicz was the third child. That eldest's standing in his eyes soared.
A solemn man's smile, when it finally comes, is undeniably infectious.
Lion's grin was not dazzling—almost awkward—but it carried genuine feeling.
"There is another gift." As the mood warmed, Blazkowicz waved backward, signalling his Corps Commander to step forward.
Lion glanced aside and saw a fair-featured warrior in black power armor approaching; the decorations on his plate marked high rank.
Blazkowicz held a stone casket. He bowed to the first Primarch, advanced between the two, and slowly opened the lid.
"This is?" Inside the casket lay something Lion could not identify.
Red silk cradled two hilts. The material resembled both stone and steel. The guards bore intricate reliefs: a circlet marked with I and IX, the grips wrapped in battle-leather.
Even to his superhuman eye, the craftsmanship was supreme—clearly the work of a master artisan.
"Nul's dimensional blades," Sanguinius said, stepping closer, his eyes flicking open and shut.
Even beside the Emperor, the Angel felt the pressure; he seized the chance to retreat.
"Yes—weapons." Blazkowicz brushed the silk and lifted one hilt. He thumbed the activator.
Crack!
A sapphire blade sprang forth, its edge a wavering field of force without thickness.
Blazkowicz flipped the casket high; Blazkowicz slashed casually, slicing it into pieces that fell without resistance.
By destroying the box he declared the gift non-returnable.
"For you both." Blazkowicz shut the blade and offered the hilts. "The battles ahead are perilous."
The two brothers exchanged a look, read the gravity in each other's eyes, and silently accepted the weapons, hooking them at their belts.
The Emperor had warned of coming war; Blazkowicz now stressed its danger.
Clearly the two knew a secret they could not voice, and could only caution in advance.
Who was the enemy?
Both Primarchs wondered: what foe could strike at the very heart of the Nur Stars?
Under their searching gaze Blazkowicz only shook his head and motioned Blazkowicz forward with the second gift—dimensional shields.
Lion and Sanguinius' faces twitched as they accepted the devices from their brother's son and slotted them into their armor.
Every instinct screamed that this war would be unlike any other.
Ten terra days later the ship dropped out of the Warp and arrived at the Argent Nur gateway, the fortress system known as the Gates of Paradise.
The group boarded a landing craft early and sat in the hold while the verification protocols ran their course.
Even with clearance, passage through the portal of the primary Argent Nur world required hours of checks and confirmations.
'The defenses of this system have almost no physical weak points,' Lion murmured, eyes on the hologram that projected every step of the verification.
To him the process looked airtight.
Inside the system a single massive fortress-planet formed the core, ringed by countless overt and covert orbital platforms bristling with redundant firepower.
And those were only the visible layers; deeper measures remained hidden.
'Pandora is special,' Blazkowicz said, shaking his head. 'The Gates of Paradise sit at a choke-point the Warp itself can't bypass.'
He spoke while authorizing the final transit codes.
Since Pandora's relocation the fortress network had been upgraded again; some routes now required Blazkowicz's personal seal.
'We're here.' Before the words faded the shuttle's engines fired, sending a tremor and a moment of weightlessness through the cabin.
The viewport flared, revealing the starfield, while the floor became a panoramic screen showing Pandora as it was.
Advanced satellites ringed the beautiful world, cutting-edge tech guarding a planet still mired in primitive ignorance.
'I can feel it.'
The Emperor opened eyes that blazed gold, voice bright with surprise: 'It is stronger than I imagined.'
'Excellent!' He rose, his towering frame casting shadow across the hold, stern face breaking into a rare smile. 'I am now ninety percent certain the psychic binding will succeed.'
The Master of Mankind restrained his excitement, lightning claws on his left hand clenching, arcs of golden energy leaping as though to seize the planet beyond the viewport.
Clad in immeasurable psychic might, the Emperor saw through all things; the instant he brushed the world spirit he sensed a will of adamant.
Even scouring the galaxy one would be hard-pressed to find a jewel like Pandora.
Were the Aeldari to learn of it, the elder race would launch a crusade to claim it at any cost.
'Stand back.' The Emperor waved Blazkowicz away, signaling that his presence was no longer needed.
Blazkowicz shot him a look, face tight, and stepped aside. What manner of man invites you eagerly only to tell you to keep your distance?
Sanguinius stood nearby, smiling, the Angel forcing his features to stay calm lest his grin grow too bright.
With the obstruction gone the Emperor cupped his hands; golden motes of psychic power swirled in the air, sketching the planet's outline.
He closed his eyes and began the ancient chant.
Words took shape, drifting from his lips one by one, orbiting the miniature world he held.
Light flared. The Emperor's radiance turned cold steel into gold, a sun rising in the hold to banish every shadow.
Lion narrowed his eyes; the glare carried torrents of information his senses struggled to parse.
Sanguinius glanced toward a corner the Emperor's light could not reach, where darkness remained untouched.
Lion followed his brother's gaze and saw Blazkowicz standing there, a circle around him the psychic brilliance refused to cross.
They exchanged a look, finally understanding why their father had told their brother to stand aside.
Neither found it strange; the Emperor had granted each of them a unique gift—perhaps Blazkowicz's was simply to blunt the Warp.
The shuttle descended rapidly, the cabin awash in gold as the Emperor's incantation neared completion.
His words leapt from illusion into reality, projecting beyond Pandora's atmosphere where golden characters formed in the void, girdling the globe.
'Rise!'
With a low command the Emperor caused the glyphs to collapse inward, linking into a slender ring around Pandora's equator.
The band expanded north and south, his power washing over mountains like a tide until the poles were enclosed.
At last Pandora was sealed within a barrier of light, shielded against any mishap.
By that single gesture the Emperor laid down a safeguard the world spirit could not escape.
The shuttle settled on a shore now transformed into a vast coastal base.
Where King Nowick had first set foot an obelisk had been raised to commemorate the sovereign who discovered the world.
Hiss—
The ramp dropped and four colossal figures emerged; every trooper in sight knelt, murmuring benedictions.
The instant the Emperor's golden boot touched the soil the mild breeze sharpened, whipping the greenery into a chorus like the wail of ghosts.
"It seems it doesn't welcome you." Blazkowicz withdrew his gaze from the distance, raised his left gauntlet, and the planet-wide scan he had been monitoring shifted.
The once-gentle atmosphere was changing fast; vast air streams converged over the oceans, and the world slipped into a hostile mode.
Nothing like this had happened before. Hunts by the Blood Angels and the Doom Slayer had only stirred the planet, never altered its climate.
The world spirit sensed danger.
"Hostility everywhere." Lion narrowed his eyes, scanning in every direction; the instincts that had saved him countless times in the jungles of Caliban screamed of unseen menace.
Sanguinius closed his eyes; his once-mild features darkened. "I have seen the future—a storm is coming.
The three Primarchs had different gifts, yet each had sensed the undercurrents; this expedition would not go smoothly.
"Welcome or not." The Emperor lifted his gaze as though watching tempests gather, wild storms massing in the sky. "It has no choice.
Beep—! Beep—!
Base alarms howled; the environmental array had spotted anomalies, summoning outside researchers back indoors and out of the open.
The entire base seemed to come alive. Thick decks rose from the ground to shield labs and housing; tall, massive steel walls lifted layer upon layer, void and energy shields flared, and every gun turret snapped to alert, ready for Pandora's natural fury.
"After Malcador arrives, I'll join you." Blazkowicz called over his shoulder and strode toward the research complex.
He knew his own null aura was no help when laying psychic wards; better to remain and await results.
"I must prepare the rite." The Emperor nodded, summoning Custodians and transports.
To ensure the soul-binding succeeded, he had brought the flagship's Custodians and Captain Odysseus—two thousand Custodian Guards in all.
Such might could sweep any world; massed here on Pandora, it showed how highly the Emperor valued the world spirit.
"Sophia will assist you." Blazkowicz never looked back as he vanished through the lab doors.
The four parted ways. The Emperor drafted several Psychic Masters and, with Sanguinius and Lion, left to place warding arrays across the planet.
"Sophia," Blazkowicz said, walking the lab's white corridor, "reroute supplies and reinforce the coastal base.
Sophia appeared beside him, the elegant lady keeping pace; she inclined her head, voice soft. "Beginning now.
Her back-end answered in nanoseconds, drafting a plan while materiel started moving from nearby worlds.
"Once the Emperor chooses the ritual site," Blazkowicz turned to her, voice grave, expression stark, "I want a fortress.
"Same for every supporting array—fortify each against a mass assault by local life.
Sophia's eyes flickered while her core ran calculations, then she nodded. "I have a schema; I'll seek the Lord's approval at once.
"I trust you to handle it." Blazkowicz smiled at her without a hint of doubt.
He believed Sophia would see it done.
With authorization, she dissolved into blue light and began moving supplies to support the Emperor.
"My lord, I have a proposal.
At the same moment Sophia's hololith appeared at the Emperor's side, offering a polished plan.
The specter-like woman materialized; Lion's hand instinctively brushed his holster, ready to draw and fire.
Sanguinius was quicker, catching his brother's arm and shaking his head—no enemy.
"Oh?" The Emperor gestured, intrigued. "Let's hear the details.
With a wave Sophia unfolded the plan, refined through billions of simulations, every angle tight and logical.
Lion was instantly absorbed, forgetting to pull free as he followed the cold machine logic; he nodded slowly.
"High feasibility."
He smiled at Sanguinius, slipped his arm free, and waved to show he was calm.
"Then we proceed." The Emperor approved; the Eldest Son's endorsement reassured him.
Lion was a strategist of stark clarity—once convinced, he acted without hesitation.
His approval meant this outline drafted by an intelligent machine was both sound and reliable.
"I'll prepare the materiel and coordinate with you all."
With that Sophia bowed politely and scattered into motes of light.
In the Fortress World of the Tribunal Eye, vast manufactorums rumbled to life, forging war-materiel for the battles ahead.