This is the bonus chapter for reaching 100 Powerstones.
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Deep within the grand hall of the Conmo Dynasty.
Inside the cage of absolute logic, Sanguinius's pristine white wings had been eroded by Warp energy, mottled with purplish-black stains of corruption. But the Blade Encarmine in his grip still shone as bright as the rising morning sun.
The nine Daemon Princes of Tzeentch surrounded the array. The blasphemous knowledge released by the burning of their souls wrapped around the Primarch like chains, attempting to invade his mind and twist his perception with every passing second.
"Give up, Sanguinius." The Daemon Prince built of stacked books flipped its pages, every single page manifesting a different, corrupted future. "Look. In this timeline, you surrender. You embrace change. You become the most beautiful masterpiece of the Changer of Ways... In this timeline, all your sons die in battle. You kneel weeping in the ruins, and then... you are torn to shreds by us. And in this one, you hold out until reinforcements arrive. But what Roboute Guilliman sees is a maddened brother utterly consumed by the Warp, and he executes you with his own hands."
Sanguinius kept his eyes closed. He completely ignored the illusions.
All of his psychic energy was drawn inward, concentrated at the very tip of the Blade Encarmine. There, a speck of pale golden light—so faint it was practically imperceptible—was slowly eroding the core logical chain of the cage.
A cage forged from knowledge... operates on the premise that this knowledge itself... is entirely correct and infallible.
The Primarch's mind whirred at terrifying speed. He was searching through the billions of theorems constructed from the burning souls of these nine Daemon Princes... searching for that single, solitary fallacy that even they had failed to notice.
And just a moment ago, he had found it.
Not through brute strength, but through... observation.
These Daemon Princes were too arrogant. They believed they had mastered all possibilities, but they forgot what Sanguinius was. As a demigod forged by the Emperor, his very essence inherently contained a fraction of the Warp's power. The Great Angel of the Imperium. When the Emperor forged him, He molded him to be the physical incarnation of the Imperium's Hope in the materium. And Hope... never needed to conform to logic, nor did it ever need to obey the rules.
"Right here." Sanguinius suddenly opened his eyes.
The reflection of a specific point on the cage mirrored in his amber-gold slit pupils.
The linkage of a temporal theorem chain right at that spot had manifested the slightest trace of a self-contradiction. Just moments prior, when that Daemon Prince had displayed the future of Guilliman executing Sanguinius, it had inadvertently constructed a temporal paradox.
To a mortal mind, this microscopic contradiction meant absolutely nothing. But to Sanguinius, a Primarch and a demigod... this microscopic contradiction was more than enough.
The pale golden psychic energy suffusing his entire being surged, pooling into the Blade Encarmine. He swung the blade, tapping it ever so lightly, letting the razor-sharp tip brush against the linkage of that theorem chain.
A faint, almost inaudible click echoed as a hairline fracture appeared on the joint of the chain.
This fracture was incredibly concealed—so well-hidden that the nine Daemon Princes failed to notice that Sanguinius's strike had actually taken effect on the cage laid down by the Changer of Ways. Sanguinius instantly suppressed all of his psychic energy, allowing the surging ambient Warp energy to mask the crack.
He knew the cage trapping him... was no longer absolute. All he needed now was a little time, and the right moment... to break free.
Sanguinius closed his eyes once more, the filth on his wings appearing even heavier than before. But beneath his lowered eyelids, the faintest trace of a smile flashed and vanished.
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Kent Hive, Governor's Palace, Sub-Level 5, Secret Chamber.
As the countdown before Paul's eyes hit zero...
[Custodes Augmentation Package: 100% Complete]
[Host Physiological Status: Stable]
[Psychic Rating: Gamma-Class (Stabilized)]
[Warning: Unknown high-tier trait energy detected within the host. Synergistic effect with Custodes augmentation in progress. Comprehensive combat efficacy estimated at... 22.4% above standard template.]
The mechanical arms slowly retracted back into the void rift.
On the surgical slab, a body slowly sat up.
A terrifying height of three point five-five meters. Muscle definition as flawless as an ancient Greek sculpture, yet radiating a violent aesthetic that suggested he could tear a Leman Russ battle tank apart with his bare hands. A pale golden luminescence flowed across the surface of his skin—the physiological hallmark of the genetic enhancements personally designed by the Emperor.
Paul slowly opened his eyes.
Deep within his dark golden pupils, a five-pointed star slowly rotated. The light of the five traits—Hope, Compassion, Resolve, Pioneering, and Wisdom—intertwined, helping him instantly adapt to a physique that vastly exceeded mortal imagination.
Endless power surged through his veins.
He could hear Cogboy's nervous breathing outside the chamber door. He could sense the accelerated heartbeat of an anxious PDF soldier a full kilometer away from the Governor's Palace. He could even vaguely feel... the faint vibrations of the warship engines in high orbit.
This was an Adeptus Custodes of the Imperium of Man.
The absolute pinnacle of human physiological enhancement. The personal bodyguard of the Emperor. A warrior whose individual combat prowess could briefly match that of a Primarch.
Paul withdrew the wargear he had requisitioned earlier from his System inventory.
Aquilon-pattern Terminator armor of the Adeptus Custodes. The golden ceramite and adamantium composite armor plates gleamed with a gorgeous yet lethal luster under the chamber's lighting.
He donned it piece by piece. Greaves, torso core, pauldrons, gauntlets...
Next came the atomic field generator, mounted on his back, capable of projecting a protective field of warping energy around his body when activated.
A Storm Shield—a massive circular shield one point two meters in diameter, its edges honed to a razor finish, the Imperial Aquila etched into its center.
A 40k-era Castellan Axe, forged in the foundries of Auramite, the wargear of Custodian Wardens. The axe blade was one point two meters long and innately psychically enchanted. The haft was inlaid with a micro-anti-grav suspensor web, making this multi-hundred-kilogram murder weapon feel as light as a feather when swung.
A Lastrum storm bolter hung at his waist; the payload of a single bolt fired from this weapon was equivalent to three times that of a standard Astartes storm bolter round.
A deep red Auric Mantle, its edges embroidered with complex tactical runes in gold thread—serving as both a ceremonial adornment and an additional energy-deflection layer.
And finally... the helm.
Paul slipped it over his head. The eye lenses flared with a crimson light.
[All Systems Online]
[Atomic Field: Ready]
[Iron Halo: Active]
[Weapons System: Linked]
He took his first step.
The Terminator plate weighed several tons, but the integrated anti-grav suspensors ensured his footfalls were not a ponderous crash, but a steady, resonant thud.
The chamber doors slid open.
Outside, Cogboy, Schrödinger Bro, Blood Angels' Second Emperor, Tax Bro, White Scars, Deep Sea... all the high-ranking players of Crimson Dawn were waiting.
The moment that golden titan stepped out of the chamber...
"Holy... fuck..." Tax Bro's jaw dropped, the data-slate slipping from his hand and clattering onto the floor.
White Scars rubbed his eyes. "Is that a fucking... Custodes? The thing that costs eighty-five million for the augmentation and gear combined?"
"A golden legendary drop..." Deep Sea muttered. "...and it's alive..."
Cogboy's mechanical eye whirred frantically, analyzing every single detail of Paul's wargear. "Aquilon-pattern... Storm Shield... Castellan Axe... Paul, this setup of yours truly lives up to its hundred-million Imperial Coin price tag."
A deep, metallic, resonant voice filtered out from beneath Paul's helm. "The eighty-five million augmentation fee was indeed exorbitant. But speaking purely from the user experience, it was entirely worth it. I feel like I could effortlessly rip my past self to shreds."
Schrödinger Bro smiled faintly and spoke up. "According to Warhammer lore, the resources required to create a single Custodian are enough to equip an entire Astra Militarum division, and the cultivation process takes nearly a century. We just bypassed all of that through pay-to-win microtransactions in the System store, getting it done in two and a half days... The cost-to-performance ratio is off the charts."
Blood Angels' Second Emperor craned his neck, looking up at the three-point-five-five-meter golden titan before him, and suddenly let out a laugh. "Paul. With a look like that, if you walked out there right now and claimed to be a special envoy sent directly by the Emperor, I'd believe it. You look way too damn divine."
Paul raised his left hand and lightly tapped the edge of the Storm Shield against the floor.
THUD.
A massive, resonant impact. The heavy vibration caused the lumen-strips across the entire corridor to flicker.
"Alright, enough joking around," he immediately asked. "How goes the war while I was under?"
Cogboy instantly pulled up a holographic projection and gave a rapid-fire report. "Aru Industrial Zone. The thirty-seven thousand men [Paradox Player Not a War Criminal] brought have linked up with the remnants of the Blood Angels. They've established three mobile defensive lines and temporarily stalled the Nurgle daemon charge. But the rift has expanded to ninety-eight meters. Whatever is inside... could squeeze out at any moment. Over in the City of the Holy Anthem, the Blood Angels have shifted to a defensive posture. Their casualty rate has dropped, but the contamination zone is still expanding. But here's the most critical news! Imperial reinforcements are inbound. The Iron Warriors 9th Grand Company will arrive within two days. The Ultramarines and the Iron Hands will arrive within five days. Two Primarchs—Roboute Guilliman and Ferrus Manus—are deploying personally."
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Thanks for the powerstones guys, we are finally in top 50 (currently rank 26). I hope we can keep climbing and reach Top 10, Is that too much? Well a man can dream.
Anyway keep the powerstones coming. Remember right? Every 100 Powerstones = 1 Bonus Chapter.