Imperial Calendar Year 0050, November 4th.
From low orbit, Mar Sara looked like an emerald set into black velvet.
The red-brown deserts that once covered the planet had been replaced by cerulean oceans and lush forests. Rivers, winding like silver ribbons, wove the continents into a vibrant tapestry of life.
Most breathtaking of all was the energy shield that enveloped the entire planet—
A pale blue field emitted by orbital space stations refracted sunlight into aurora-like halos, making Mar Sara appear like a crystal sphere encasing a paradise.
"Atmospheric composition optimization complete. Surface vegetation coverage up to 78%. Water purification systems functioning at full efficiency."
In the control room of the orbital station, an engineer moved swiftly across the holographic panel with limb-like prosthetics. "Praise the Emperor—terraforming progress is 3.6 standard months ahead of schedule."
As the observational feed zoomed in, details on the planet's surface became clearer.
Once ravaged by war, Mar Sara now radiated astonishing vitality—particularly the new city near the spacegate, built to house refugees.
The city was laid out in concentric circles. The outermost ring stretched for hundreds of kilometers in ecological farmlands; the middle ring housed neatly arranged residential zones; and the central ring stood tall with grand buildings in the architectural style of the Human Imperium.
The most eye-catching feature visible through the energy shield was the artificial climate control system above the city.
Numerous hexagonal climate regulators floated ten thousand meters in the air, releasing nano-level water vapor that, under starlight, created a prismatic halo.
These water vapors not only regulated rainfall with precision but also absorbed airborne particulates, ensuring the city remained forever bathed in clear daylight.
The city's main roads were paved with composite materials, equipped with sensors embedded beneath the surface to monitor traffic flow and collect all types of data in real-time.
In the greenbelts flanking the roads, genetically optimized leaf-trees swayed gently in the breeze, their foliage releasing a calming fragrance.
Every 500 meters stood a public rest station—white pavilions outfitted with holographic projectors and automatic beverage dispensers. Solar panels embedded in the roofs displayed aesthetically pleasing spiral patterns.
"All residential zones use modular eco-architecture," explained the soft, mechanical voice of the city's guide system. "Each housing unit is equipped with vertical gardens and water recycling systems. Average per capita living space: 75 standard square meters."
At this moment, atop a typical residential building—
The outer walls were clad in temperature-sensitive smart glass that changed color with the weather. On the balcony, miniature urban farms grew tomatoes and strawberries.
A group of refugee children from Haven played joyfully in the rooftop garden, their laughter carried off by the breeze.
In the small plaza below, elderly citizens sat on intelligent benches that adjusted temperature and massage strength according to each person's physical condition.
At the city center rose the Imperial Administrative Complex—
A cluster of silver-white buildings combining diverse styles with futuristic streamlined forms.
In front of the main entrance lay Peace Square. A hundred-meter-tall statue of the Emperor stood with a greatsword, gazing down upon the people. Around the base were carvings of children holding hands.
The plaza's flooring was made of sound-absorbing materials. At dusk, miniature embedded lights lit up to outline starmaps that depicted pivotal moments in human history.
"Basic medical care and education are completely free," the guide system continued. "The new city currently has thirty-seven holographic learning centers, each equipped with cutting-edge neural-link learning pods."
The screen cut to a classroom mid-lesson. Children wore lightweight learning helmets, immersed in historical scenarios through neural interaction.
One teacher guided students through Earth's various epochs. A holographic projection showed Leonidas I leading the Spartans at Thermopylae against the Persian army.
In the industrial zone, automated factories operated like silent behemoths.
Through transparent glass walls, robotic arms could be seen assembling the latest model civilian aircraft.
Locally hired workers, strictly trained and compliant with all regulations, patrolled the factory floors in protective suits, monitoring all equipment.
All polluting processes were performed deep underground in sealed facilities over a kilometer below the surface. Treated waste gases and water were turned into inert crystalline particles, which were then repurposed as building materials.
When night fell, the city transformed into a realm of charm.
Building outlines were traced with soft blue lights, while public art installations projected shifting constellations.
Above the lake in Central Park, thousands of drones performed a light show, forming the Emperor's face before morphing into a dragon with outspread wings.
Residents from various planets gathered on the lakeside lawn. Children chased intelligent balloons glowing like fireflies, couples whispered under the trees, and local scholars discussed shield optimization with Imperial engineers.
In the orbital station's observation room, the chief engineer responsible for Mar Sara's reconstruction turned off the surveillance feed.
He gazed out the viewport at the emerald planet, the corner of his mouth lifting under his visor. "Now this... this deserves to be called the jewel of the Imperium's frontier."
Behind him, the holographic engineering progress report displayed its final line—
[Ecological Completion Rate: 98%]
Suddenly—
SWOOSH—SWOOSH—!
Five ships, clearly of Protoss origin, tore through realspace and arrived in low orbit on Mar Sara's sunward side.
The orbital defense array flickered with cold blue light, and thousands of gun emplacements locked onto the unexpected Protoss fleet like alert hunting dogs.
The five elegant yet battle-damaged vessels floated in low orbit. Their golden hulls were scorched with plasma burns, some armor plates torn away to reveal glowing inner structures.
Unlike the streamlined vessels of Kares, these ships had sharper outlines and ancient rune totems adorning their prows.
"Unknown Protoss signal detected."
The station's AI reported in a calm female voice. "Vessel match rate under 30%. Not registered Kares allies."
A patrolling destroyer in synchronous orbit moved to intercept. The two-kilometer-long warship deployed its full weapons array. Missile bay covers lifted like overlapping scales.
Three following frigates spread into a triangular formation, their point-defense systems warming up to fire tens of thousands of rounds per minute.
"This is Mar Sara Orbital Defense Command." The comm officer's voice echoed across all frequencies. "Unregistered Protoss vessels, identify yourselves and state your purpose immediately. Otherwise, you will be treated as hostile."
As the message ended, a holographic image from the Protoss fleet's flagship appeared across all bridges and control rooms—
An aged Executor with gray-white neural cords appeared. His silver-blue armor was covered in battle damage, with a gaping hole in his left pauldron.
"Humans..." His voice bore rare Protoss exhaustion. "We come from Sahunel, destroyed by the Tal'darim. Forty thousand survivors request asylum."
The feed switched to chilling combat footage:
Black-red Tal'darim fleets engulfed an emerald world. Protoss cities on the surface collapsed under plasma fire. Most disturbing of all—some Tal'darim warriors wore armor emblazoned with twisted, eight-pointed Chaos stars.
In the control room, a technician's fingers flew across the console, reporting:
"Scan confirms they're carrying civilians. Vital signs show many wounded—wait!"
Suddenly, the technician raised his voice. "Warp corruption levels spiking—abnormally high!"
At that, the orbital defense commander's brow furrowed.
He pulled up an enhanced scan. Inside the Protoss transport's cargo hold, hundreds of stasis pods flashed with danger-red warnings.
Inside each pod, a Protoss child lay curled up, with strange black-red energy tendrils wrapped around their neural cords.
The commander hovered his hand over the red button, voice steady but grim:
"Initiate Purge Protocol. This could be a Chaos trap. We cannot risk corruption entering Mar Sara."
"Stand down."
Suddenly, an image of Dorn appeared on the holoscreen—stern and unyielding. The Primarch of the Imperial Fists stood clad in his master-forged armor. The golden fist emblem on his pauldron gleamed in the control room's light.
"Cancel the Purge Protocol." His voice rang like steel tempered in a forge. "I will handle this myself."
The air in the command room froze.
Technicians' fingers hovered above their interfaces. No one knew when a Primarch had arrived on Mar Sara—but they all obeyed his order and turned their eyes to the weary Protoss leader.
And upon hearing "Warp contamination," the old Executor's pupils contracted into slits. His body visibly trembled beneath his silver-blue armor.
"This is impossible..." His neural cords pulsed with signals of extreme shock. "We performed seven complete purges before departure..."
Dorn's projection raised a hand, pulling up scan data. Golden holographic lines depicted the terrifying scene in the transport's hold—
The supposed stasis pods now held rapidly spreading black-red energy, forming vascular-like networks.
"Corruption always enters through the weakest point." The Primarch's voice was thunderous. "You are not carrying wounded. You are carrying seeds of Chaos."
"I swear upon my ancestors—we had no idea..." the Executor's voice trembled. "If you grant aid, the last flame of Sahunel will never forget your kindness."
Faced with the plea, Dorn's armor growled with heavy servo noise as he replied:
"Hold position. No warp jumps permitted. I will board personally to investigate."
As communication ended, Mar Sara's energy shield rippled like water, and a titanic warship slowly pierced the barrier.
An Emperor-class battleship, its prow shaped like a forged golden sword, advanced. Thousands of turrets along its sides were armed and primed, but the most fearsome feature was the massive docking bay amidships—
There, golden transport energy surged, revealing dozens of Terminator armor silhouettes.
Seeing this, the Protoss fleet reformed, huddling together like wounded birds. The flagship Radiance of Sahunel rotated slowly, its less-damaged starboard side facing the approaching battleship.
Through its observation windows, Protoss could be seen raising psionic barriers around various chambers. Many warriors stood ready to contain any "filth" that might breach containment.
"Teleportation ready."
Dorn's voice rang through the fleet channel.
He stood in the teleport chamber's center, surrounded by dozens of battle-hardened Imperial Fists Paladins.
Their Terminator armor had been specially modified—with psionic disruptors on their pauldrons and blessed ammo loaded into their bolter chains.
In a flash of searing white light, Dorn and his retinue appeared in the transport ship's lower deck.
What greeted them was suffocating.
Once pristine, the walls now crawled with black-red veins—like the entrails of some massive organism.
Crystalline particles floated in the air, each one holding within it a distorted nightmare.
Suddenly, a door thirty meters ahead exploded.
Three abominations burst from the smoke. They had the rough form of Protoss, but their heads were replaced by writhing tendrils, and gaping maws split open across their chests, tongues dripping acid.
ZZZZZZZ-KRAK!!
Dorn moved like lightning. His chainblade flashed with thunderous light and cleaved the lead monster in two.
The Paladins unleashed their flamethrowers, and holy fire engulfed the corridor.
The creatures screeched with inhuman shrieks before disintegrating into ash.
The gray-haired Executor stumbled into the scene, armor freshly scarred from battle.
"We... we had no idea they'd penetrated this far..." His voice was thick with guilt. "Those children... they were used as vessels..."
Dorn sheathed his weapon, his armor's servos humming heavily:
"Take me to the cargo hold. Now."
When they arrived, they found the stasis pods full of black-red slime. Within, the curled forms of Protoss children writhed. Their neural cords had fused with the fluid, forming grotesque symbiotic structures.
"They must be destroyed, Father."
The squad leader spoke grimly.
"No." Dorn raised a hand. "The Emperor taught me another way."
From a storage case at his waist, he produced a luminous blossom that resembled a crystalline peony, radiating pure golden light—a crystallized artifact saturated with high-concentration purified psionic energy.
He placed the blossom on the deck. The entire cargo bay was instantly flooded with blinding gold.
Tiny Hanzi scripture shimmered in the air—living text crawling across every corrupted pod.
The most astonishing sight was the children—
Their twisted neural cords, under the golden light, began slowly fading from black-red back to their original pale blue.
"This... this is impossible..." The Executor collapsed to his knees, his neural cords trembling violently. "Not even our highest purging rites..."
"It's not purging."
Dorn's gaze fell on the blossom, now gray and lifeless.
"It is the Emperor's blessing—rewriting reality."
He turned to his Paladins and commanded:
"Transfer all infected to the stasis chambers aboard the battleship. Specialists will handle them from here."
"Yes, Father."
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