"And that is all we have so far. At the moment, the Astra Militarum regiments are purging all the heretics hiding inside the hive cities on the other planets. We want to take over, but it turns out there are many heretics hiding within the cities, ready to spring out when we least expect them. That is all for the report, Roboute."
I deliver the report to the giant of a man in front of me as he studies the hologram projected before him. I need to focus on keeping the Soul Stone from letting me see his soul. It is too bright. Even now, I can still see the outline of gold around his body, enveloping him like a cloak.
At least this time, I do not see the Emperor's soul.
Previously, I could see a massive golden-black soul hovering above him, watching me from a distance. The presence was terrifying. It was human—but I could feel something eldritch within it.
I do not know whether that is because of all the sacrifices made to keep him alive or for some other reason. What I do know is that his soul is terrifying—and he is aware of it. He even looks at me as if he apologizes for what he has become.
I will continue to ignore how he calls me an Old Friend and how the Priests and Battle Sisters now call me more than a Saint. Some have begun calling me a demigod who followed the Emperor even before he became Emperor.
Yeah. That is a landmine I do not want to step on. If I keep ignoring it, maybe it will go away. I hope so.
"You used the resources well, Kael. I shall send two of my companies to assist the Salamanders in reclaiming these four planets."
"Why those four?"
They are not particularly important—at least not in the larger picture. The first is an Ocean World. It has one hive city and only a dozen billion souls. The second is an Industrial World. Not the largest, but it produces Chimera light tanks. The third is Agriworld, ranked fourth in food production among six agriworlds. Not the best, but sufficient. The last is a newly colonized world intended to become a Mining World, though construction was halted due to the Heretic Insurrection.
All in all, they are not among my highest-priority targets.
Wait.
I take the data slate and review the information on each planet. After a few seconds, I look at Roboute, who offers a faint, knowing smile.
"Each planet provides us with tools suited for urban warfare. Chimeras are the perfect vehicle for Urban Warfare, and the Imperial Regiments from these planets specialize in Urban Warfare. That is what those planets offer us."
"That's right. If we secure them, we improve our chances of reclaiming the others. For now, we must ensure the production of the anti-heretic medallions."
"Magos Macrotek Modem already oversees production. Soon we will have ten thousand medallions."
"How long is 'soon'?"
"Ten hours at best. Twenty at worst. We are testing new machinery and cannot yet predict output precisely. The workers still need to adjust."
"That is fast enough. We can depart in two days. We will spread my troops across the domain and establish an outpost on each planet. From there, we deploy units equipped with the medallions and cleanse the cities."
Roboute studies me before speaking again.
"While we wait, tell me about the Shroud Field. How long until all our ships can be equipped with it?"
I smile faintly and begin explaining the new technology. Surprisingly, he understands quickly. As expected of a Primarch. He needs the foundational explanation—but once given, he grasps it fully, unlike many Tech-Priests, who follow blueprints without proper comprehension.
As we continue discussing logistics and strategy, I begin to understand who Roboute truly is. Now I see how he built one of the greatest empires before the Emperor reunited with him. Roboute is intelligent, disciplined, and practical—but also human.
He is still a Primarch. A weapon of war. But beneath that is a man.
I look forward to working with him.
==| Line Break |==
I release a slow breath as we exit the warp. I hold back a shudder as we leave the warp. So this is what Warp travel feels like. I do not know if I will ever get used to it.
"Not used to it, Kael?"
I glance at Roboute and shake my head.
"No. I dislike being this close to the warp. Even with the Shroud muting the sensation, the foul presence lingers."
"I understand. I recall a freshly graduated guardsman fainting on his first jump. At least the Shroud is functioning properly. I cannot feel the warm presence."
He turns to the Navigator beside him.
"How are you faring, Lady Navigator? Is the Shroud effective?"
The Navigator—a mutated human with a third eye—meets his gaze and nods.
"Yes, my lord. The warp cannot influence me. The whispers are gone, yet I can still see through the Shroud without difficulty."
"Good. That is reassuring."
Roboute looks back at me.
"We can begin mass production, Kael. Every void ship must be equipped."
"That is the plan. But we must maximize production to outfit the entire fleet."
"And that is why we are here."
I nod as the viewing shields retract, revealing the planet below.
Pavane.
The newest colony world. Its hive city is not even a millennium old. According to the data, Pavane was established in 195.M41.
Young—for an Imperial world.
This is a mining world that contains the key ingredient we need to create the Shrouding Device. It only requires a small amount, but with millions or even hundreds of millions of ships, we need a lot of them, and we need this planet.
We are here because the traitors have seized the planetary fortress. The remnants of the 6th, 7th, 8th, 12th, and 40th regiments have entrenched themselves. Reports estimate three million traitor soldiers within the fortress.
Those numbers include xenos allies who also worship the Chaos Gods. It appears the traitor regiments have allied with the Darktide—a xenos coalition devoted to Chaos and responsible for the ongoing Fringe War.
They are also the ones who corrupted the 6th regiment with plague.
"This is it. Kael, would you like to command the assault?"
"I am a capable fighter—but not yet a capable commander, Roboute. Let me observe and learn from you."
I speak honestly, and he nods.
Moments later, the war table ignites with light, displaying live feeds from every deployed servitor and real-time reports from the ground.
Roboute reviews the data once more before activating a Vox-caster.
"This is Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines. I am assuming command."
His voice shifts. The warmth is replaced by iron discipline. Even the golden aura around him condenses. It is brighter and more powerful.
"Commander of the Moebian 53rd. Report artillery strength. Ammunition levels. Artillery types."
A voice answers through the Vox.
"We are at 89% ammunition capacity, my lord. Twelve Basilisks. Five heavy mortar cannons."
"Very well."
I watch as his eyes scan nearly a hundred feeds at once. I can see him calculate something, and after a few seconds, he is done.
"Priority target: south-east quadrant. Maximum range. Fire in unison."
The commander relays the order instantly.
"Target locked. Firing."
Seconds later, thunder cracks across the battlefield. Explosions ripple through enemy barricades. A vehicle line erupts in fire, and the sound of buildings around it crumbles to the ground.
I glance at the feeds and see the result. Roboute targeted the traitor vehicle barricade meant to halt the assault advance.
"Moebian 54th, advance. South-east route. Vehicles first. Secure the breach."
"Yes, my lord!"
I can see live feed from one of the servitors as troops dash to their vehicles and drive forward. Bikes and Chimera APCs surge forward, claiming the shattered sector just as traitor forces attempt to reinforce it.
They are outnumbered, but their vehicles allow them to hold the line long enough for infantry to reinforce them. From there, they quickly gain the ground and even push the traitor back. They do not pursue them and decide to hold the line.
I hear battle priests chanting hymns over the feed. Soldiers roar war cries. The battlefield is chaotic, but guided chaos because of Roboute.
I snap from my thoughts when I hear Roboute give another command.
"Moebian 55th. Guard the north-eastern tunnels for breach attempts."
I see him frowning and looking at a group of live feeds. It is a feed that shows a group of empty tunnel entrances. I frown a little and take a glance at Roboute in confusion. How does he know the tunnels will be breached?
"Yes, my lord! Captain Atus! Hold the north-eastern tunnels!"
Moments later, the tunnels erupt. Traitors pour out, and this time accompanied by xenos—mole-like creatures with stone claws and natural armor, bearing the marks of Chaos.
Even from here, I can see the corruption staining their souls.
Roboute continues issuing commands with uncanny precision. Units arrive at critical junctions seconds before the enemy pushes. Countermeasures are deployed before threats fully materialize.
It is as if he sees the battle before it unfolds.
I know he is famed for logistics and planning—but this is something more. His foresight borders on prophetic.
The only being who could match this… is another Primarch.
I still have far to go.
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