The Minecraft Dynasty moved with lightning speed.
They first rebranded the "Mind Controller" as the "Beast Taming Controller" to avoid any negative PR. After some heavy testing and fine-tuning, they handed Daniel the finished product: Version 1.0. Daniel gave it a final inspection, confirming it couldn't be used to hijack humans or other high-intelligence species before he greenlit its use.
The first test subject was a Razordramon captured from an alien world. The creature looked like a prehistoric nightmare, standing on powerful hind legs with forelimbs tipped in serrated, chitinous segments sharp enough to carve through steel. Daniel had the controller implanted into the base of its skull, hooking directly into its nervous system.
"Rise," Daniel commanded.
The Razordramon, previously dormant, snapped to its feet.
"Sit. Attack. Kill."
The beast executed every command with clinical precision. Daniel smiled. "This is a game-changer. Between the beast-taming and mount systems, we've just unlocked a massive new layer of gameplay. The players are going to lose their minds over this."
Just then, Arale's projection flickered into existence. "Master, we've picked up a new signal. The Lighthouse on the Glory of Macragge is officially online."
Daniel's grin widened. "Finally." With three Lighthouses now active in the galaxy, the network was taking shape. Players could now teleport between hubs by spending Faith Points, drastically cutting down travel time. "We'll bundle the mounts and the teleportation system into the next big update."
"Master," Arale interrupted, her expression turning grave. "I've been in contact with Cawl. He says the Primarch is in deep trouble."
Daniel's smile vanished. He had been keeping an eye on the pilgrimage through player forums—one user, "BaldCustodian," was even running a detailed play-by-play thread. Everything seemed under control. The Thousand Sons were supposed to be dealt with. Who could possibly threaten a fleet of that size?
He immediately opened a quantum link to the Glory of Macragge. Cawl's massive, metallic form materialized in the holoprojector, gears and servos whirring nervously.
"Saint," Cawl bowed.
"What's the situation?" Daniel asked.
"The traitors have us cornered," Cawl replied. "Magnus, Angron, and Fulgrim have joined forces. They've caught us in the Maelstrom, and we're staring down total annihilation."
"Three traitor Primarchs?" Daniel was floored. "Is this a reunion tour? Why the hell are Angron and Fulgrim there?"
"We need backup, now," Cawl urged.
Daniel turned to Arale. "Issue a priority support mission. Summon every high-level player we have."
"On it, Master."
Daniel quickly sent a memo to the Minecraft Dynasty: Hold the controllers. We're pushing the update early. Open the teleportation gates and mount systems immediately.
[URGENT LIMITED-TIME MISSION: SAVE THE PRIMARCH]
Roboute Guilliman is besieged by traitorous Primarchs in the Maelstrom. The Guide is using the Emperor's power to drop a strike team directly into the heart of the storm. Level 10 and Class Change required.
Reward: 80,000 Contribution Points, 5,000 Honor, 10,000 Faith.
The notification hit the HUD of every eligible player. In the desert of the Scintilla Hive world, a player named Daigo saw the prompt and didn't hesitate. "Direct teleport? Finally, no more walking!"
He clicked confirm, and the world blurred. When the static cleared, he was standing in the cavernous hall of the Glory of Macragge. High-level players were appearing by the dozens, pulled through the Lighthouse network.
Low-level players on the forums were already melting down. "Discrimination again! We can't even be cannon fodder?""Just hit level 10, losers.""Are we actually going to Terra?!"
Daniel didn't wait for the chatter to die down. He burned a massive amount of Faith Points to warp the entire strike team directly into the Blackstone Fortress.
Inside the fortress, the battle was a meat grinder. Guilliman and Angron were locked in a stalemate, the Emperor's Sword clashing against Angron's cursed blades.
"Look at you, Angron. Look what you've become," Guilliman said, his voice a mix of rage and pity. He knew Angron was the brother who'd had the least choice—a slave on Nuceria, tormented by the Butcher's Nails, and finally sold into damnation by Lorgar.
Angron didn't answer. He couldn't. The Nails were screaming in his skull, drowning out everything but the need to kill. He lunged with a speed that defied his size, forcing Guilliman onto the defensive. The daemon-Primarch's strength was overwhelming; one massive blow sent Guilliman to his knees.
"Blood for the Emperor!"
The BaldCustodian charged, slamming his glowing scepter into Angron's head. The burst of psychic light made the beast stagger, giving Guilliman enough room to roll away. Angron roared, his magic sword whipping around in a blur, cutting the player clean in half.
As Angron lunged again, massive chains erupted from the floor, binding him.
"You've had your fun, Angron. Guilliman is mine," Magnus declared, stepping out of the mist. He looked at the bisected body of the BaldCustodian and frowned. Didn't I kill this guy already? How is he back?
"Yours?" Fulgrim slithered forward, his serpent tail hissing across the stone. He looked at Guilliman with pure, petty spite. "I owe him for Macragge."
The surviving players and guards formed a ring around Guilliman. Magnus and Fulgrim traded glares, but Angron shattered his chains and lunged at Magnus, the rage-blinded beast attacking anyone in reach.
"Complete lunatic," Magnus hissed, forced to defend himself.
Fulgrim ignored the brawl and turned his four swords toward Guilliman. "Looks like it's just us, brother."
"Go back to your 'Hook-Selling God,' snake," a player yelled, charging Fulgrim with a chainsword. He was cut in half before he could even finish the sentence.
Guilliman stepped forward. "I'll handle this."
The two brothers clashed. Fulgrim was a blur of motion, his four arms raining down strikes like a venomous storm. Guilliman blocked and parried with the Hand of Domination and the Emperor's Sword. He found an opening, his blade slicing through Fulgrim's armor and drawing a hiss of pain.
Guilliman didn't let up. He caught one of Fulgrim's blades with his gauntlet and severed the hand with a single, fiery sweep of his sword. Fulgrim shrieked—a sonic blast that sent Guilliman reeling. Warp energy flooded into the daemon-prince, but the wound charred black. It wouldn't heal.
"My father's sword has a bit of a bite, doesn't it?" Guilliman mocked.
"I will pull your heart out!" Fulgrim screamed, lunging with renewed malice. He caught Guilliman's arm in a jagged thrust, and the poison began to work instantly. Guilliman staggered, the room spinning.
Suddenly, a blinding light filled the corridor. Daniel descended, his white wings shimmering as he slammed his scepter into Fulgrim's head, forcing him back. Daniel became a living conduit, funneling the Emperor's power directly into Guilliman. The poison was purged in a flash of gold.
Fulgrim stared in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? I had to sell my soul and murder my best friend for these cheats, and you just get them for free? That is so typical!"
"You're done, Fulgrim," Daniel said.
With Daniel stacking buffs on him, Guilliman was a juggernaut. He surged forward, his eyes burning with ten thousand years of suppressed rage.
"Time to settle the bill, you degenerate lapdog!" Guilliman roared.
Fulgrim tried to use his speed to escape, but Daniel caught him with a "Raging Thunder" spell. The bolt of lightning pinned the daemon to the floor, screaming. Guilliman didn't waste the opening. He landed a punch that shattered half of Fulgrim's face, then grabbed the daemon by his horns.
"This is for the wound you gave me ten thousand years ago," Guilliman snarled. He drove the Emperor's Sword straight through Fulgrim's chest. The holy flames ignited, and Fulgrim's screams echoed through the fortress as he collapsed in a heap of burning, screaming agony.