Chapter 208: Waiting for You to Grow Up |
Within the magnificent hall, the stasis field shimmered with a faint blue light, freezing time into an eternal moment.
Truth be told, when Rameses saw Roboute Guilliman for the first time, he did not feel any particular emotional stir.
This was because the Primarch did not look exceptionally imposing, lacked the expected majestic presence, and certainly could not speak.
What Rameses saw looked more like a corpse.
Seated high upon the throne, the Primarch had been arranged by the Ultramarines into a highly dignified posture. The armor encasing his body even cleverly concealed the wound on his neck, making him appear completely flawless.
However, from the perspective of the Warp, that thick aura of death lingered, impossible to dispel.
This was a dead man whose throat had been slit by Fulgrim, who was trapped by the lethal poisons of the Warp, and who had been placed inside a stasis field to lock his death into this exact moment.
Rameses did not even dare to let Arthur get too close to the Primarch, deeply afraid that under Arthur's influence, Guilliman might actually die for real.
If that happened, the group's Soul count might just experience a massive surge.
"According to my analysis, the Armor of Fate is insufficiently effective."
Standing beside the stasis field, Cawl could not help but let out a mechanical sigh.
"The Armor of Fate can only maintain the existence of his physical flesh, but it cannot prevent the dissipation of the Primarch's Soul."
"It seems the Power of the Death God is an absolute necessity. Cawl, you need to invest a bit more in us; the Lord Regent's resurrection hinges entirely on this."
Rameses could not resist patting the Archmagos's bulky mechanical chassis.
Lately, he had been studying the biological structure of a Primarch, striving to cobble together a functional Primarch body that could actually move around, while Cawl was researching how to resurrect Guilliman.
The Loyal Primarchs were either dead, bedridden, or missing in action.
If one were to compare these Primarchs to gym members, Guilliman was probably the only one still stubbornly lifting weights.
Master Romulus no longer wanted to carry the heavy lifting; he just wanted to quickly finish dealing with the Imperium's mess and go play on his alt account. Now, they could only rely on the Lord Regent.
"I shall, but only once your rit—Operation Plan is completed."
Deliberately pausing on the word "ritual," Cawl's mechanical voice carried a subtle trace of hesitation.
Setting aside the title of Lord Regent, which already sounded highly questionable at first glance, Rameses's methods were undeniably a bit too unorthodox.
"Make sure to bring a larger military force when the time comes."
He added a reminder, one of his mechanical arms swaying subconsciously as it projected a holographic deployment map of the Macragge defense forces.
Their cooperation had indeed become increasingly transparent as the crusade advanced, to the point where the Operation Plan to resurrect the Primarch was practically an open secret.
After all, dragging the Big Blueberry back out to do the heavy lifting was a consensus shared by multiple factions. Even Chaos itself was hoping for a rerun of this particular gacha pool.
It was just that Rameses's plan was truly somewhat—somewhat a bit too tied to the Warp.
The idea was to use a weapon bearing the Power of the Death God to kill Guilliman before the Warp's lethal poison could, and then use the Death God's authority to bring the Primarch's Soul back. Relying on the Armor of Fate to protect the Primarch's physical vessel, this sequence would finalize Guilliman's resurrection in the material universe.
It sounded familiar. Far too familiar.
A certain favorite son of the Emperor who once lay inside the temple on Davin would surely have something to say about this.
"Relax. I am a psyker; numbers are useless against me. When the time comes, I will get it done in a single step."
Rameses waved his hand dismissively.
"..."
Cawl stared at Rameses as if he were looking at Erebus.
The Primarchs of the Ultramarines, the Dark Angels, and the Blood Angels had all set foot within the temple on Davin. The internal records of their Space Marine Chapters were completely clear on the exact reasons behind Horus's corruption.
This method of resurrecting a Primarch by stabbing him with a blade...
We would just have to wait and see if the Ultramarines would ever agree to such a thing.
"..."
Cawl's silence was deafening.
"Lord Romulus."
Dracus's voice echoed from behind, prompting Rameses to turn his head.
Ever since returning to Macragge, these ancient members of the Invincible Iron Guard had remained standing here like statues. They made no attempt to seize internal power from the Ultramarines, even though Calgar had expressed his welcome for them to do so.
This was not due to any clandestine reasons.
It was purely because their resurrection was too mysterious, too heavily tied to the Warp. It was the kind of miracle that made people instantly suspect a Chaos conspiracy, making it highly inappropriate for them to overly interfere with the modern Space Marine Chapters.
Even the resurrected veterans among the Sons of Dorn refrained from meddling in the internal affairs of their respective chapters.
"Finished?"
Seeing the Invincible Iron Guard retreat back into their self-imposed isolation, Rameses asked.
This meeting had already dragged on for two whole days.
"?"
Romulus looked completely bewildered.
"Do you have some sort of profound misunderstanding regarding the Imperium's efficiency?"
He handed a massive stack of documents to Cawl. The original pages were so densely covered in annotations and official seals that their original color was almost impossible to discern.
The upcoming restoration of Ultramar's military strength would still require the assistance of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Given Guilliman's extreme importance, Cawl was unlikely to refuse.
"Referencing past precedents, the current meeting should have only just concluded its discussion on taxation policies, alongside formulating a basic preliminary draft for a single Sector. And that is only thanks to Lord Romulus's assistance."
Cawl silently accepted the Operation Plan regarding the restoration of Ultramar's military power.
Under the monumental prerequisite of Guilliman's resurrection, he truly had no reason to refuse.
Especially after witnessing the Tyranid invasion, he had gained a profound understanding: entrusting critical missions to the Imperium was nothing short of a disaster.
"Uh, my apologies. I underestimated the Imperium."
After receiving Romulus's documents, Rameses took one look at the overwhelmingly dense walls of text and instantly surrendered, entirely losing the mood to read them.
Just the Secondary Resolution Regarding the Adjustment of Food Rations for Fortress Worlds in the Segmentum Obscurus alone had over seven hundred pages of appendices.
He cast a glance at the Invincible Iron Guard, who had instinctively drawn closer upon Romulus's arrival, and spoke.
"So you mean to say, we first secure Ultramar and the Great Rift, and then use them as our foundation."
He paused meaningfully.
"We can set up another one over by the Third Imperium, right?"
Dracus, who had consciously stepped forward to await Romulus's orders, nearly failed to maintain his sorrowful expression once again.
"Yes."
Romulus, however, nodded earnestly, converting a series of tasks into physical documents and distributing them to the Invincible Iron Guard.
"The Hades System can also be considered. We need an additional backup zone in the Imperium Nihilus."
Although they were deeply dissatisfied with the Imperium's current state, they had to admit that prior to the year 999.M41, the Wings of Dawn needed to maintain a degree of relative restraint.
They needed to stockpile their strength, resolve the catastrophic events that had previously inflicted massive losses upon humanity, and forge a paradigm far more appealing than the current Imperium, biding their time until that fateful day arrived.
The Thirteenth Black Crusade.
Of course, whether it would actually happen the same way was another matter entirely.
In truth, if they were solely looking at Abaddon's meager military forces, Romulus was fully confident in preventing the destruction of Cadia.
Moreover, considering how Rameses had been constantly harassing Vashtorr, it was highly questionable whether dear old Abaddon's highly anticipated fleet would even be as large as it was in the original timeline.
The problem was that the forces of Chaos, and perhaps even the Emperor himself, might have implicitly agreed to flip the table that was Cadia.
And after Abaddon had dismantled a series of Blackstone strongholds during his previous twelve Black Crusades, solely relying on Cadia to plug the toilet that was the Eye of Terror was no longer realistic.
Romulus had to consider the very real possibility that the scale of the Thirteenth Black Crusade might be significantly larger than what the Transmigrators remembered.
At this thought, he could not help but let out a long sigh. There were still over two hundred years until the Thirteenth Black Crusade. His most pressing priority right now was figuring out how to quickly carve out a piece of territory and completely rebuild the Sector according to his own vision.
At the same time, he needed to take greater initiative, hastily constructing a comprehensive talent cultivation system to intervene in the development of various Planets.
The Imperium had historically maintained a laissez-faire approach toward its Planets, but at this critical juncture, there was clearly no time to wait for them to slowly develop on their own. Centralized intervention was absolutely imperative.
He would also use this opportunity to root the ideology of centralization firmly across the entire Sector.
"Look, it is Lord Romulus!"
A suppressed gasp of excitement echoed from beyond the psychic barrier.
"Keep your voice down, Raphael. Do not disturb them,"
Silin quickly reminded him.
She could not understand why this new companion, who had already completed his Adeptus Astartes augmentation surgeries, was so visibly thrilled.
'Do we not see the Primarchs every single day?'
Noticing the familiar voice, Romulus lifted his gaze and looked over.
Psychic power was always incredibly convenient. The people outside could not hear their conversation, yet they could easily catch every whisper from the outside world.
This place was a Sanctum.
Normally, it was open to Imperial citizens, even permitting photography. It was usually quite bustling, but recently, a large number of Space Marines had come to visit, resulting in an unusually solemn atmosphere.
Because everyone was pressed for time, Calgar, who had been bedridden like a corpse in the ICU, practically sprang up from his deathbed. He finally managed to drag himself out of the medical bay just on the eve of the various Space Marine Chapters' departure, organizing them to come here and pay their respects to the Primarch.
Even now, after the celebrations had concluded, the stream of Space Marines arriving to venerate Roboute Guilliman remained endless.
Of course, this crowd also included a group of young men and women.
They were currently touring the Hera Fortress under the guidance of Arabella, a member of the Order of the Sacred Rose who had recently been canonized as a Living Saint.
Though, judging by Arabella's expression, she had never wanted to be canonized in the first place.
After realizing exactly what kind of entity the Emperor truly was, the Sister had gradually abandoned her deep theological analysis of Imperial dogma. Instead, she treated it merely as a personal creed to discipline herself, subsequently throwing all her focus into educational work.
Seeing Karna wave at him from afar, while Arthur quietly trailed at the back of the group, watching over these energetic youths, Romulus could not help but smile.
As what was quite possibly the most humanistically advanced Planet in the Galaxy, Macragge certainly possessed the qualifications for this.
Romulus himself was also currently reading through Guilliman's governance strategies, deeply analyzing Macragge's administrative model.
Therefore, after the Wings of Dawn completed their initial handover with the Ultramarines, their first priority was to organize a tour for these youths who were still undergoing their education. The primary goal was for them to study Macragge's political system and understand the local culture.
Although back on Earth he used to constantly complain about how schools in highly developed areas always got to go on fancy field trips to visit this and that, he knew that was simply an issue of unequal educational resources.
Now that they had the means, they naturally wanted to provide these children with a far superior environment.
Even for the members who had already officially entered the workforce, he planned to gradually organize similar excursions.
After all, the meetings were going to take a very long time.
"Lord Romulus."
At the outer perimeter of the hall, upon seeing Romulus walking toward her, Silin—who had already grown into a young woman—grabbed Erika beside her and waved excitedly. Her heterochromatic hair stood out vividly amidst the crowd.
"Hello there,"
Romulus waved back with a gentle smile.
"My lord, when will we finally be able to formally join the workforce?"
Silin quickly asked.
The companions around her had either been assigned to technical roles or combat positions. Yet, for some reason, the formal employment of top-performing students like herself kept getting delayed again and again.
Occasionally, under Arabella's arrangements, they would participate in various tasks, but at best, it was just to gain a rudimentary understanding of the job.
Romulus chuckled, momentarily setting aside the heavy worries in his heart, and asked with a smile,
"What is the matter? Can the administrative assistant system no longer contain your boundless intellect?"
"No, no, that is not it!"
Terrified that Romulus might think she was being overly ambitious and arrogant, Silin hurriedly waved her hands in explanation.
"I just want to be of more help. Seele and the others have already started working; I am the only one still stuck studying. I... I feel a bit anxious."
She knew perfectly well that Romulus was having them continue their studies so they could eventually shoulder much heavier responsibilities.
But as a hot-blooded youth, seeing everyone else already contributing their light and warmth to the cause naturally made her feel impatient.
"Exactly, we all want to help you!"
Many of the other teenagers immediately chimed in. Over the past few days, they had toured Macragge's political administration, read through its history, and learned of the high expectations the Primarchs held for them.
Their youthful hearts grew increasingly restless.
"Haha, wait until you are a bit older,"
Romulus laughed gently, soothing the eager children.
"Study. Take advantage of this relatively peaceful time. All you need to do right now is focus on your studies and enrich yourselves."
He reached out and gently rested his hand on the trembling shoulder of the young girl. He could feel the vibrant, surging vitality of youth radiating through her thin uniform as he gazed into the brilliant light sparkling in their eyes.
"You are the future of humanity."
His words resonated like a morning bell striking deep within everyone's hearts.
His earnest declaration caused the previously restless youths to fall into a reverent silence.
The teenagers were stunned to realize that when the Primarch spoke these words, his eyes carried an almost devout sense of hope.
Children were the future.
Romulus looked tenderly at the young men and women before him.
And under their steadfast protection, this very future was thriving and growing strong.
——
"The last time we had three Gloriana-class battleships and five Primarchs gathered here was... well, the last time."
Rameses remarked casually while studying Guilliman alongside Cawl.
"That atmosphere of boundless vitality, where everything seemed destined for greatness, still vividly flashes before my eyes."
That profound sigh of nostalgia drifted over to the side, causing a group of Ultramarines standing nearby to break into cold sweats.
'Please stop talking, Uncle. Seriously, please stop talking.'
"Stop piling pressure on them,"
Romulus said as he returned after seeing the children off, slapping a document down in front of Rameses.
"Moving forward, we need to establish our own independent military force. To maintain the Primarch's dignity, we only need to adhere to the Codex Astartes on paper. Hurry up and finalize the Wings of Dawn heraldry you have been obsessing over, along with all the accompanying insignia. We need to submit it to Terra for official archiving soon."
"I had it prepared ages ago."
Using his psychic powers, Rameses directly manifested a physical projection of it in mid-air.
A solar halo, a blood drop, and four wings.
The armor's color scheme was primarily crimson and gold. The silver covering the left pauldron, trimmed in deep scarlet, served to commemorate their very first allies: the Order of the Sacred Rose and the 43rd Cadian Regiment, the 'Broken Sword'.
The black, red, and gold combination looked quite striking, and the symbolic elements were certainly plentiful.
But was it not missing something?
Romulus stroked his chin. 'When you three designed this emblem, did you completely forget about me?'
He raised a finger and pointed at the heraldry.
"Blood Angels?"
"That blood drop."
"Dark Angels?"
"Those wings."
"Thousand Sons?"
"That solar halo."
"And what about the Ultramarines?"
Romulus asked in sheer bewilderment.
"That element is currently on its way. It will arrive in exactly nine hours,"
Rameses declared with complete, deadpan seriousness.
"..."
Dracus buried his face in his hands, turned around, and faced the wall to begin his silent repentance.
He was immediately joined in this exact same posture by the rest of the Invincible Iron Guard, who had only just recently emerged from their self-imposed isolation.
——
"What a pity. It seems the Primarchs have no intention of separating."
Outside the main conference hall, amid a gathered crowd of delegates, the Imperial Cult's representative, Bishop Eos Redilla, let out a soft sigh.
If there was anyone who genuinely hoped the four Primarchs would split up, it was undoubtedly Eos Redilla, second only to the Adeptus Administratum representative, Itu Hamertalion.
Having four Primarchs clustered together was an absolute waste. Just looking at the Church of the Dawn, which had already spread its influence all the way to Armageddon, the Imperial Cult could easily establish at least four massive new denominations by leveraging the divine halos of the Primarchs, vastly expanding its power throughout the Imperium.
"As an official of Holy Terra, we must think long-term and consider the grand scheme of things. Bishop Eos, you cannot solely fixate on the narrow interests of the Ecclesiarchy,"
Violetta, the representative of the Departmento Munitorum, could not help but scold him.
She firmly believed that the Primarchs brought overwhelmingly positive benefits. Not only had they assisted the Departmento Munitorum in reorganizing the defensive lines across the Segmentum Ultima, but they had also single-handedly trained up hundreds of millions of Astra Militarum troops, forming entirely new artillery support and heavy armored regiments.
Even their weapons and equipment were entirely subsidized by the Primarchs themselves.
Right now, everyone was frantically investigating whether the four Primarchs had secretly seized control of a Forge World.
"It is precisely because I am not solely fixated on the Ecclesiarchy's narrow interests."
Bishop Eos had been eagerly anticipating a reformation for a very long time. Although the modern Imperial Cult still possessed the strongest grassroots mobilization power in the Imperium—a fact even the Primarchs had acknowledged—it was heavily plagued by corruption and depravity festering within the Imperium's bloated bureaucracy.
The reason he and Hamertalion managed to reach a consensus was ironically because their visions for the Imperium's future violently clashed.
One was radically conservative, while the other fiercely pursued reform.
Hamertalion spoke with clear reluctance:
"We must march forward alongside this new power."
He despised the very concept of introducing fresh blood into the system, as it inherently represented instability.
However, since the Primarchs had no apparent intention of extending their reach into the Segmentum Solar, he could tentatively accept the situation.
Following that, he turned and led his staff away from the group.
"Are you planning to meet with the other Chapter Masters?"
Noticing Hamertalion's swift departure, Navis Nobilite Envoy Kadak Mill could not help but ask.
He had come here purely to help the Adeptus Astra Telepathica and the Navigators investigate exactly why the Dawn Fleet's Astropathic Communication was so remarkably stable.
So far, they were still completely baffled, leaving them with no choice but to chalk it up to the Emperor's divine protection.
"Indeed. Lord Romulus strongly encourages open communication. I believe I should personally explain my perspectives to the various Space Marine Chapter representatives,"
He replied, before departing under the escort of an Ultramarine.
Hamertalion had never once abandoned the thought of crippling the Primarchs' political power.
To him, this was a matter of strict fundamental principle.