You are still watching him.
With the passage of time, his compatriots emerged from the darkness of ignorance, and with a vision for the future, they rushed to the stars.
He also participated.
As an ordinary hermit, living happily.
Until the arrival of the Warp storm that swept the entire galaxy.
And you were powerless to do anything about it.
Or rather, you once had a way to solve it.
But now, you are old and frail, not as good as you once were.
The scattered people no longer have the ideal of aspiring to the heavens beyond. The hunters' tricks and blades are not aimed at their prey, but at another hunter.
They draw sustenance for their survival from the corpses of their dead compatriots.
Golden men, iron men, stone men.
Techno-barbarians.
Strife, civil war.
Until the crimson filled the earth, it could not be stopped.
You had seen a similar scene long ago.
And at that time, your people called it—The War in Heaven.
You were not afraid of the C'tan's provocation.
But the negative emotions generated by war would continuously feed those evil things from the Warp.
If the war were allowed to continue, the victors would be those lurking in the dark.
And it would not be between you and the enemy.
Unfortunately, those mad Necrontyr and the C'tan would never understand this.
Helplessly, you and your other compatriots withdrew from the battle.
To better protect the galaxy from the defilement of those evil things from the Warp, you, surrounded by your people, built a supreme pyramid in the Empyrean.
After this, you will sit on the burning Golden Throne.
Until forever.
...Or will you?
You do not know.
Who can know everything?
Countless ages have passed, and one ugly cycle after another has always been staged.
The once-noble people became corrupt and degenerate, and the once-idealistic cities became dens of demons.
They would not remember the heroes who had saved them, nor would they fear the impending catastrophe.
Pleasure was the first principle of life.
Under the endless stimulation of light and sound, not many of your people would follow a fool who was said to sit motionlessly on a throne.
The pyramid throne could no longer suppress the three evil things, Khorne, Nurgle, and Tzeentch.
The energy of the Warp was gathering, turning into a chrysalis, turning into a storm.
You could feel that something was brewing.
You could only place your last hope on him.
And he also responded to your expectations.
To reunite the humanity scattered among the stars, he and his like-minded companions looked at the stars together.
Among them were Perpetuals, and Custodians.
There was a Thunder Warrior primarch, and also a biologist who had worked with him.
And then, he raised the [Fire].
CLANG!
With another jolt of the Pride of the Emperor's deck, the visions and whispers that had been swirling around the choir and Kasjia dissipated again.
[Warp transit has been completed. All crew members, please remain calm.]
Completing a Warp transit is never pleasant.
Whenever the Navigator was searching for a safe route in the Warp, endless visions would pour into his mind along with the faint calls.
A dizzying sensation, like airsickness.
Even as a super-genetically engineered warrior personally modified by the Emperor, he was a little disoriented under the tearing of the Warp's energy.
He slowly stood up again from the wine-red ship wall he had been leaning on, shaking his head.
He couldn't tell if these visions were psionic prophecies from the Warp, or the scheme of a certain big blue bird.
Kasjia chose not to believe any of them.
But fortunately, they had successfully transited out of the Warp.
For a long time to come, he would not have to worry about this matter again.
The La Fenice Theater.
As the entertainment venue and mess hall of the Emperor's Children, this place never seemed to lack for personnel.
A top-tier musician from Terra was playing a beautiful and soothing symphony in front of the lavishly decorated theater.
And in the center of the seats below sat an old woman.
The Chief Iterant, Galkonda Pyke.
She was old, and even with exquisite maintenance and life-extending surgery, time had still left its wrinkles on her.
And the wear and tear of her mechanical modifications were also visible to the naked eye.
The thin woman was lightly holding a tall glass of wine, sipping it slowly.
"First Lord Commander Kasjia, a pleasure to meet you."
"Would you like some?"
She pointed to the half-full wine glass beside her.
"No, thank you. I don't drink."
"Then you're missing out," she smiled lightly and took a sip with a look of intoxication. "Your Primarch wife, Fulgrim, is one of the best winemakers in the world, and you don't like to drink."
"What a waste... just like this Byzas. After we discovered it, there were actually two legions that could have taken on this matter."
"But I chose you."
"Compared to being turned into another Ultramar by the Ultramarines, the Emperor's Children might be able to better realize their... potential."
Sigh.
Why does everyone have to dunk on Guilliman?
But it's not like he disagreed.
Lady Pyke was from Holy Terra, and was the chief preacher of the Imperial Truth for the 28th Expeditionary Fleet.
At the same time, in the visit to world 28-1, Byzas, she was also the official representative of the Imperial bureaucratic system.
As one of the first bureaucrats to land on Byzas, to bring the long-lost Imperial Truth to this scattered world.
At the same time, she was also Malcador's eyes and ears in the legion.
That psyker by the Emperor's side never seemed to be able to rest easy with them, the Astartes.
Of course, in the end, it turned out he was right.
"Alright. Kasjia, tell me, what can I do for you?"
She drained the wine in her glass.
"We are approaching the upper orbit of Byzas. Lady Fulgrim hopes that you will gather the members of the diplomatic mission and meet at the landing bay."
"And, it seems I have to face an even harsher challenge."
Kasjia gave a bitter smile.
"...Master."
With an almost inaudibly low voice, Kasjia, who had changed into a slim-fitting attendant's uniform, stood at attention in the landing bay.
"Good boy. That's right."
Fulgrim smiled lightly and looked at him.
The conquest of Byzas did not require the use of an army as usual.
Compared to the irreconcilable xenos, scattered human planets could often be brought back into the Imperium with a smaller price through the efforts of diplomatic missions.
Of course, this was the way of the perfectionist Emperor's Children.
If the social Darwinist Ferris were here, those who did not surrender within the specified time would only be razed to the ground by her super-saturated heavy firepower.
With the opening of the hatch, other preachers of the diplomatic mission, bureaucrats from the Administratum, Magi of the Mechanicum and military officers, and various Rogue Traders with all kinds of licenses also boarded the craft, preparing to go to the unknown and mysterious planet designated 28-1.
However, even so, the process of reclamation could not always be smooth.
Before diplomacy, it was often necessary to display one's own strength to a certain extent.
"Eliminate the remnants, establish prestige."
"As for the task of eliminating threats in the dark, I'll leave that to you~"
"My little pet."
Fulgrim, full of vengeful glee, wrapped her arms around Kasjia in his attendant's uniform and pecked him on the cheek.
-------
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