Chapter 192: Halting Diplomacy and Worry of Twins

Ûthar remained in a daze. Hearing Angron's words, he finally surfaced from his shock.

He looked at the cube in his hand, then at Angron, and finally nodded.

The power Angron had displayed would confuse not only him, but anyone in the entire Greater Thurian League. With a gesture, the Primarch had confined and imprisoned an entire star.

Such methods could be attributed to gods.

Behind Angron, Khârn, Lotala, Varius, Gale, and the others straightened with pride. Thinking of their Primarch's power and the expressions on Ûthar and the other Kin dignitaries' faces, they felt an inexplicable surge of honor.

"Joining the Imperium is your best choice," Angron continued. "We come with sincerity."

"Can't you simply allow us to live independently in the Silver Heart?" Ûthar asked, still hoping to secure autonomy for his people.

Angron simply offered a slight smile. "Do you think that's possible?"

"The galaxy is a cruel place, my friend, and you are either an ally or an enemy. Neutrality is a luxury, and a sin."

"With numerous legions, vast armies of warriors, and weaponry that reshapes reality itself, why would we not unify the galaxy, expel the hostile xenos, and forge a united humanity? Would we gather such power merely for display?"

"If we don't submit, what will you do?" Ûthar pressed.

"War," Angron said with utter calm. "I do not wish to shed the blood of my own kind, but some things must be done. The galaxy will be unified, peacefully, if possible, or by force, if necessary."

Ûthar sighed heavily. "I am merely one Kâhl among many in the Greater Thurian League, and I am not qualified to make such a decision alone."

"Such a matter requires the full League to convene before any answer can be given."

"I have that much patience," Angron acknowledged with a nod. "But I must warn you, if you betray this opportunity and open fire on Imperial vessels, it will mean total war, and I will show no mercy."

"I understand," Ûthar said quietly.

Over the following days, Angron took Ûthar on a tour of the Conqueror.

The Primarch displayed his full charisma, cultivating a harmonious atmosphere. Through laughter and casual conversation, he extracted valuable intelligence from his guest, cultural norms, political structures, and technological capabilities.

He selectively presented aspects of himself that would most appeal to Ûthar, and the Kin responded with increasing sincerity and frankness.

"This is the Rope of Triumph," Angron explained, gesturing to a magnificent cord woven from countless threads. "A section is added after every war, with red representing victory and black representing defeat."

He indicated his own Rope of Triumph, displayed prominently in the training hall. "It has always been red."

"With such power, who could possibly be your opponent?" Ûthar asked.

"Aside from my brothers, there are others." Angron was about to continue when Ûthar interrupted, unease creeping into his voice.

"You said your brothers? Forgive my presumption, but... how many brothers do you have? Are they all like you?"

Angron nodded. "My Gene-Father, The Emperor, created twenty Primarchs in total, and each of them equals or surpasses me in talent and capability."

Ûthar: "..."

You can already imprison stars with a gesture.

And you're telling me there are nineteen others as powerful, or more powerful than you?

Are you giving anyone else in the galaxy a chance to survive?

This Human Empire is absolutely cheating.

Sensing Ûthar's emotional turmoil, Angron waved his hand. Static-like beams flickered, projecting a massive holographic display.

It showed the Primarchs who had returned to the Human Empire.

Ûthar's small remaining hope for independence died completely.

The Human Empire's power was not something the Kin could contend with, and once war broke out, the entire Silver Heart would be flattened.

"This version of Angron's ability to manipulate people's hearts is truly terrifying," Raven muttered, having watched the entire negotiation.

He was genuinely very satisfied with Angron's performance.

The Angron without the Butcher's Nails was indeed a well-rounded warrior, capable in both war and diplomacy.

After the tour concluded, Ûthar departed to return to the Greater Thurian League and consult with the other Kâhls.

Over the following days, various Kin factions sent representatives to board the Conqueror and negotiate with Angron.

The Primarch demonstrated remarkable patience, meeting with each delegation personally and engaging in deep, sincere conversations.

Sometimes, Angron, Khârn, and others visited the Kin warships in turn, touring their advanced technology and colossal stellar constructions.

A week later, Ûthar returned.

He brought the Greater Thurian League's reply.

The Kâhs were willing to submit to the Human Empire, but the conditions required detailed discussion.

They hoped to gain substantial autonomy and expected the Human Empire to formulate policies favorable to the Kin, particularly regarding the sharing of resources and technology.

Simply put, they wanted to be the Human Empire's privileged class.

Naturally, such demands could not be granted.

After another unproductive round of negotiations, the Kin representatives returned to their ships. Khârn vented his frustration before his companions.

"Are those bastards treating us like fools?"

"They just keep demanding this and that with their mouths open. Why don't they simply demand the Human Empire provide for their every whim?"

"The situation has reached a stalemate," Lotala said, shaking her head. "Those representatives are professional politicians who ask for the stars to negotiate down to the moon."

"It's always a good sign that they're willing to negotiate," Angron said, maintaining his optimism. "As long as we have patience, we should be able to persuade them."

War, after all, remained a last resort.

Once war began, it would become a sea of blood and mountains of corpses. All the Human Empire would gain would be ruined cities, suffering populations filled with hostility, and worlds perpetually seeking opportunities to rebel.

Peaceful integration was infinitely preferable.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the galaxy...

While Angron negotiated with the Kin, the Alpha Legion, the Twentieth Legion, responded to the 73rd Expeditionary Fleet's distress call.

They were bound for a world called Norse to execute a cleansing operation.

According to the 73rd Fleet's reports, the Norse people's technology was several tiers below the Human Empire's standard, and they should have been easily swept aside.

But they possessed something else.

They wielded mysterious knowledge and had received powerful support from certain entities. Like mages from ancient fantasy tales, they manipulated elements freely and reshaped natural terrain at will.

An entire Knightly Order had been annihilated, and over two hundred Knight Mechs had been destroyed.

Three tank clusters and six regiments had vanished forever on the Norse battlefields.

Realizing the war could not be won with conventional forces, the 73rd Fleet called for reinforcements.

Alpharius learned of the situation and responded immediately, leading a massive fleet toward Norse.

The Alpha, flagship of the Twentieth Legion, was a Gloriana-class battleship equipped with advanced technologies. By current Imperial classification, it qualified as a second-generation-plus battleship, capable of freely entering and exiting subspace even within a star's gravitational field.

In the bridge, Alpharius stood before the railing of the command platform, overseeing the busy work of personnel below.

Beside him stood a warrior without a helmet, one who looked exactly like him, with the same height and features, as though perfectly replicated.

This warrior was Omegon. Like Alpharius, he was the Twentieth Primarch.

When the Primarchs were stolen by the gods and scattered across the universe, Omegon had been cast onto an unnamed planet far from Terra. He grew up in solitude until a group of human raiders arrived. After defeating them, he acquired a spacecraft and embarked on a journey through the stars.

The two twins shared some form of telepathic connection, and they eventually met on a world called Balsavor.

Alpharius discovered Omegon but did not immediately inform Terra.

According to the Emperor, he had created only twenty Primarchs.

'Why, then, was I Alpharius the only twin? What secret lay within this anomaly?' The more Alpharius pondered it, the more he felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

He knew something of the Warp and was aware of what his Father fought against.

The reason the Primarchs had been scattered throughout the galaxy was due to the machinations of powerful Chaos entities.

The appearance of twins was highly likely a Chaos conspiracy, or perhaps the result of some other unknown variable.

Alpharius fell into confusion.

He didn't know if he was the original or a copy. If he were the latter, how should he conduct himself? If his brother Primarchs discovered the truth, how would they view him?

He would not reveal Omegon's existence until the truth became clear.

Footsteps echoed through the bridge, disturbing his thoughts.

Omegon donned his helmet, concealing his features.

The Information Supervisor, half his face replaced with cybernetic augmentation, instinctively overlooked the nearly imperceptible Omegon. He approached Alpharius and reported.

"My lord, we have reached the vicinity of Norse and are about to enter realspace."

Alpharius nodded and rose from his seat. "Open full-ship communication. I have something to say."

A servo-skull hummed through the air, its anti-gravity engine vibrating as it suspended itself before the Primarch. A mechanical arm extended, presenting a communication speaker.

Every Primarch was an excellent politician, military strategist, and orator.

Alpharius paused, organizing his thoughts, then spoke with conviction, his voice transmitted throughout the fleet.

"The enemies on Norse have refused to submit to the Human Empire and have used Warp sorcery to inflict severe losses upon the 73rd Expeditionary Fleet's ground forces. This is an unforgivable crime, and they must be punished."

"Since we departed from Terra, we have swept from one end of the galaxy to the other, establishing countless victories. Now, I propose we add another glorious chapter to our record."

"We will wage war upon Norse until the last enemy who dares resist the Human Empire falls."

Cheers erupted across the communication channels.

After the morale boost, Alpharius summoned his senior command staff: First Captain Ing Peck, Second Captain Syas, Captain of the Alpharius Unger, Expeditionary Lord Commander Matt, and other high-ranking officers.

In the strategy room, a gleaming tactical table displayed a projection of Norse and the intelligence provided by the 73rd Fleet.

"The Norse have become pawns of Chaos," Alpharius began, his voice cold and analytical. "They possess extraordinary psychic abilities. Currently, the main resistance forces have retreated to a region called Utan, an area filled with mountains and guarded by unnatural power."

[End of Chapter]Chapter 192: Halting Diplomacy and Worry of Twins