The flow was incessant. A digital tide of victories, a macabre and glorious accounting. As his Terran army swept across the plains of LV-492, reducing xeno nests to smoking craters and primitive tribes to memories, the System continually notified Julius.
< Energy acquired: +5,000. Source: Eradication of the Chitinous Ravager nest.>
< Energy acquired: +2,300. Source: Neutralization of an alpha predator pack.>
< Energy acquired: +8,100. Source: Destruction of a sanctuary of toxic flying creatures.>
His counter, already astronomical, was skyrocketing. Conquest was not only a strategic necessity but also a source of vertiginous personal power. And Julius knew exactly what to do with it.
Physical strength and agility were no longer enough. In the Warhammer 40k universe, the ultimate power resided in the Immaterium. In the psionic.
"System, display available physiological and psionic enhancements," he ordered, alone in his command chamber.
The menu appeared, much vaster than the first time. Alongside the standard physical enhancements was now a new branch, sparkling with a worrisome violet glow: Psionic Development.
He started with the basics. His body, although perfect, had reached the limits of minor enhancement.
[Advanced Bone and Muscle Recomposition] - Cost: 10,000 units.
Increases density, size, and resistance. Estimated height gain: +5cm.
"Proceed."
The sensation was immediate and intense. It wasn't painful, but deeply disturbing. He felt his bones lengthen, his muscles stretch and densify to adapt to his new frame. When the process ended, he stood taller, more imposing. 1.73m. He wasn't a giant, but he had lost that sensation of "smallness" that sometimes betrayed him. He felt more... substantial.
But it was the other category that captured all his attention.
[Psionic Awakening - Epsilon Level] - Cost: 50,000 units.
Unlocks the Host's latent psychic potential. Epsilon Level: Basic emotional perception, sensitivity to presences in the Immaterium, ability to light a candle by thought after intense concentration.
It was the lowest level. Almost insignificant. But it was the key. The entry point.
"Purchase the Psionic Awakening. Epsilon Level."
< Consumption of 50,000 energy units.>
< Initializing connection to the Immaterium...>
The effect was radically different from anything he had ever known.
The world sang.
It wasn't a sound, but a vibration that passed through every atom of his being. He suddenly perceived the raw emotional shards of the base: the fierce concentration of an engineer, the controlled fear of a Marine on patrol, the tired satisfaction of a worker. It was a psychic fog, weak but constant.
Then he felt the other thing. A pressure at the edge of his perception, an ocean of swirling colors and senseless whispers beyond the veil of reality. The Immaterium. It was both magnificent and terrifying beyond all measure.
He raised a trembling hand and concentrated on the candle on his desk. It wasn't about physical force, but will. To draw from this new energy and impose his law upon it. His head began to ache, a dull pain behind his eyes.
Light up.
A spark. A small yellow flame flickered, then caught, dancing on the wick.
He had lit a candle.
It was tiny. Laughable. The power of an Epsilon. But looking at that small flame, Julius Braveheart smiled. It was more than that. It was proof.
He was now a psyker. The weakest of all, certainly, but he had set foot on a path that led to unimaginable peaks of power. The higher levels – Delta, Gamma, Beta, Alpha – shone in the System's menu like distant and expensive stars. Hundreds of thousands, millions of points.
He looked out the porthole of his quarters, towards the plains where his troops continued their work. Every xeno eliminated, every conquered kilometer, was no longer just a gain of territory. It was one more step towards personal transcendence.
The candle continued to burn, illuminating his determined face. He was no longer just a commander with an army. He was a psyker in the making. And in the 30th millennium, that changed everything.