Chapter 355: The Broken Primarch
Akira knew that for a warrior like Sigismund, who had experienced countless battles and deeply understood the uncertainties and dangers of Warp travel, this held a fatal attraction.
"This means that the mobilization of Imperial forces will become more predictable and faster, without being entirely subject to the Adeptus Astra Telepathica and the Navigator Houses. For Legions... or rather, Chapters, that need to respond to widespread threats, especially those operating in areas of Warp instability, its strategic value goes without saying."
He did not mention the cross-Segmentum potential that higher warp levels might bring; that would be too shocking for someone encountering this concept for the first time, and it would easily trigger unnecessary concerns.
He chose a more concrete application scenario that directly addressed the future expeditionary needs of the Black Templars.
Sigismund fell into a long silence.
His gaze slowly moved away from the physics-defying scene of vitality in the canyon and locked back onto Akira's unrippled mechanical face.
Even through the hard helmet, Akira could clearly capture the shock contained within that gaze, as well as the almost instinctive caution that followed.
The impact brought by this news was far beyond what creating an oasis could compare to.
It pointed directly at the very foundation upon which the Imperium relied for survival—that massive system built upon Warp travel, Astropathic communication, and Navigator bloodlines.
The words "Warp Engine," casually proposed by Akira, represented a power capable of subverting ten thousand years of human tradition.
Time slipped away in silence; only the wind of the Death World howled above the canyon.
After a long time, Sigismund's deep voice slowly emitted from the helmet's vox-caster, every syllable seemingly bearing a crushing weight: "You know exactly what this means."
This statement was not merely pointing at the technology itself, but questioning the monstrous waves it was bound to trigger behind the scenes.
The decline of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, the hostility of the Navigator Houses, the interference of Mars, and even the reshuffling of the entire Imperial power structure.
He was confirming whether Akira truly understood what kind of double-edged sword he held in his hands, and the incalculable consequences he would have to bear by revealing it.
He was referring not only to the technology itself but the political earthquake and backlash from various factions it might trigger.
"Precisely because of this," Akira responded candidly, "I must meet Lord Dorn. The very existence of this technology is a massive risk. Without the authority and foresight of a Primarch, what it brings might not be a blessing, but chaos and civil war sweeping across the entire Imperium. I need his judgment, and I also need his... protection."
Sigismund fell into silence once again. He gazed at the barren horizon of the Death World in the distance, as if weighing the gravity of this information and the consequences of bringing it to the Primarch.
Finally, he turned around, his black power armor emitting a heavy grinding sound.
"I will personally report to my father," his voice regained its customary firmness. "Prepare your demonstration materials, Magos Akira. The matter you raised indeed needs to be decided by him."
The significance of this brief trip to the canyon far exceeded a mere tour of experimental results.
For Sigismund, what Akira had revealed might not just be two technologies capable of changing the landscape of the Imperium; it was more likely an opportunity to pull his gene-father, Rogal Dorn—who was mired in agony and confusion—out of endless self-blame and darkness.
Ever since the final moments of the Horus Heresy, when Dorn personally brought back the cold corpse of Sanguinius and the mangled, broken body of the Emperor from the Vengeful Spirit, Sigismund had clearly felt that his father—who had once been the Imperium's most resilient bedrock—had developed cracks within his heart, to the point where it could even be said to be broken.
The fall of the Emperor plunged this Primarch, who took fulfilling oaths as his life's creed, into an unprecedentedly dark period.
He believed he had failed to fulfill his ultimate duty to protect the Emperor, and thus suffered immense agony.
Sigismund had witnessed Dorn strip off his golden power armor that symbolized glory, donning a black tabard representing penance and mourning, leading the Legion on an almost self-punishing "Crusade of Penance" to exact vengeance upon the traitors in extremely brutal ways.
But Sigismund understood that this was not Dorn's true nature; it was merely a way of projecting the unbearable pain in his heart outward.
Dorn was using physical warfare and witnessing the destruction of traitors in an attempt to numb himself, searching through his pain for an answer—an answer on how to continue moving forward and how to sustain this crumbling human civilization after the Emperor's silence, his brothers' betrayal, and the Imperium being left in ruins.
Dorn did not completely agree with Guilliman's plan for the "Second Founding"; splitting the Legions was, in his eyes, a weakening of Legion cohesion and tradition.
However, his rational side knew clearly that under the current circumstances, this was a necessary measure to avoid an excessive concentration of power and prevent large-scale betrayals from occurring again in the future; it was a bitter pill that had to be swallowed for the stability of the Imperium.
This fierce conflict between reason and emotion further exacerbated his pain.
A more practical problem was that not all the sons of the Imperial Fists were willing to accept the split.
There was still a considerable number of warriors whose loyalty and sense of honor were tightly bound to the "Imperial Fists" as a whole, unable to let go easily.
How to settle these loyal yet "anachronistic" warriors became another difficult problem placed before Dorn.
Sigismund knew deeply that, following Dorn's current thought pattern leaning towards self-sacrifice, he would highly likely end up choosing the cruelest path.
Throwing these warriors unwilling to split into the most dangerous, almost certainly fatal battles, letting them sacrifice themselves for the Legion and the Imperium's "new order" in the most glorious and absolute way, thereby eliminating internal dissent and potential hidden dangers.
As the First Captain and Dorn's most trusted second-in-command, Sigismund saw all of this, his heart aching.
He was unwilling to see his gene-father continue to torture himself in agony, nor was he willing to see those loyal warriors march towards a destructive end due to ideological differences.
But he agonized over being unable to find any method to break this suffocating deadlock.
And now, what Akira had brought forth—those incredible Genesis particles, and the even more subversive warp engine technology—was like a ray of light tearing through heavy, dark clouds.
Sigismund astutely realized that this might be exactly the turning point needed.
A grand creation capable of terraforming Death Worlds and expanding territories for humanity, a strategic technology capable of changing how the Imperium projected power and potentially influencing the shape of future wars—this was enough to forcefully pull a leader trapped in past trauma back onto the track of facing future challenges.
This could give Dorn a brand-new goal worth fighting for that transcended his immediate predicament, a magnificent blueprint capable of reigniting the sense of mission and responsibility within his heart.
This was no longer just for the future of the Imperium, but also for his father's soul.
Sigismund clenched his fists; he had to persuade Dorn to give Akira a chance to demonstrate.
This might be the only hope for Rogal Dorn to truly "return."