Vance stared at the golden titan before him, his entire body frozen in place.
The auric power armor. The Emperor's Aquila. The Custodian runes carved deep as trenches into the pauldrons.
But most importantly... that three-and-a-half-meter height.
Any player who knew even a little bit of Warhammer lore knew exactly what that height meant. In this timeline, there was only one Custodian who stood over three and a half meters tall.
The Emperor's personal guard, the founder of the Custodian Guard, the very first Captain-General...
Constantin Valdor.
Vance's gaze flicked over to his teacher.
The old man was equally stunned. Those eyes, which had just been burning with impassioned fervor, were now filled with a chaotic swirl of emotions. Surprise. Confusion. But noticeably, no fear.
Vance sighed internally.
We are so incredibly screwed.
Someone inside the Imperial Palace—either the Emperor Himself or Malcador the Sigillite—must have used their psychic powers to eavesdrop on my teacher's treasonous speech. Otherwise, why in the hell would they send the Captain-General himself?
Great. We're dead before the game even starts. We're going to get burned at the stake as heretics.
I don't really care about myself. I have enough Imperial Coins to use the Respawn function. If I die, I die. Worst case scenario, I just roll a new identity and start over.
But my teacher...
Vance looked at the deep regret written all over Darius's face, a complex surge of emotion welling in his chest.
This idealist who had betrayed his own social class. This man who had clawed his way through decades of service with the Emperor's Children. This old man who had ultimately pinned all his hopes on Vance... was probably going to die here today.
A sliver of genuine anxiety gnawed at his gut. He hadn't known this teacher for long, but the old man had treated him with nothing but genuine sincerity. He truly, deeply wanted Vance to change this Imperium.
If this teacher was just going to be burned as a heretic...
Vance clenched his fists.
Valdor's voice finally sounded, carrying that cold, detached aloofness unique to the Custodes. Every single syllable was heavy and glacial. "Darius Stanton. Stellan Kowalski. You are under arrest. Surrender immediately."
The instant the words left his mouth, the ten Custodians standing behind Valdor stepped forward in perfect unison.
The deafening crash of auric boots slamming against the metallic deck rang out as one. The ten golden figures formed a moving wall, completely sealing off any possible avenue of escape for Vance and Darius.
Vance's internal monologue was currently undergoing a catastrophic meltdown.
We are completely fucked!
My dear, sweet teacher! Why did you have to go and start blurting out the absolute truth right under the Emperor's nose?! The Imperium being a rotting carcass isn't exactly breaking news! But the Imperial Truth is the law of the land, which makes everything they do 'correct' by default!
I know it wasn't easy for you to betray your class. But you could have said this earlier! Or later! Did you really have to wait until we were staring at the breathtaking majesty of Terra, riding a high of idealistic romance, to drop this massive bombshell on me?!
Now we're actually doomed!
He genuinely wanted to log off right then and there just to post a thread on the Warhammer forums: [Help] Stranded on Terra, Arrested as a Heretic by Captain-General Valdor on Day One! How do I escape?!
Give him enough time, and he could probably spin this into an entire fanfiction!
I bust my ass to get to Terra, only to feed First Blood instantly! God dammit!
Darius stared at the sudden appearance of Valdor, not a single trace of fear on his face.
Only regret.
The bitter regret of failing at the finish line. The agonizing frustration of falling just one step short. The tragic realization that despite his best efforts, fate simply had other plans.
He slowly crouched down, turning to look back at Vance, and whispered. "Stellan... I am so sorry. I dragged you down with me."
His voice was incredibly faint, but Vance could hear the crushing guilt behind it.
Vance crouched down beside him, forcing a strained smile. "It's fine, Teacher! We don't even know what this is about yet! There might still be a silver lining!"
Even Vance didn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Arrested by the Captain-General himself? What kind of 'silver lining' could possibly exist? But right now, it was all he could say.
He didn't blame Darius.
The Custodians behind Valdor stepped forward, their massive golden gauntlets clamping down on their shoulders simultaneously. The grip wasn't brutally heavy, but it carried an absolutely irresistible authority.
Darius and Vance were hoisted off the floor. The Custodians moved with clean, efficient precision, handling them as if they were merely two pieces of luggage that needed to be relocated.
The upper-class Terran nobles surrounding them began pointing and whispering as they watched the pair get hauled away.
"Who are those two? To think they warranted an arrest by the Custodian Guard?"
A middle-aged man in lavish robes craned his neck, his eyes practically gleaming with gossip. A harsh, snide voice chimed in next to him. "Who knows? Probably some filthy traitors. They'll be burned to absolute ash, I'm sure."
"That old man is still wearing a noble's military uniform," a slightly younger noble piped up, his tone laced with mock pity. "A shame, really. Since the Custodian Guard took them, we won't get to watch the traitors burn. You see lowborn traitors get torched all the time, but a noble traitor at the stake? That's a rare treat."
"Who cares!" a fat, thuggish-looking noble waved a hand dismissively. "Someone will clean up the trash. As long as we get to enjoy our days in peace, that's all that matters! Hear, hear! The pleasures we enjoy here... those filthy peasants will never get to experience them!"
A chorus of raucous laughter echoed down the street.
Listening to the mocking jeers from the crowd, an indescribable fury boiled up inside Vance. But he didn't look back.
He only silently swore to himself.
Laugh. Go ahead and laugh. One day, I am going to completely eradicate all of you trash. Scum like you belong strung up on lampposts, burning bright to light the streets.
The Custodians escorted them through the parted crowd, leading them toward a row of vehicles parked by the street.
They were Gyrfalcon jetbikes, the exclusive anti-grav mounts of the Adeptus Custodes. The streamlined golden chassis hovered silently half a meter off the ground, pale blue plasma exhaust bleeding from their thrusters.
Two Custodians forced Darius and Vance onto the pillions of two separate bikes. Their movements were rough but surgically precise, ensuring neither captive had even the slightest chance to resist.
Valdor mounted the lead jetbike, not even bothering to glance back at the prisoners.
The five Gyrfalcon jetbikes powered up simultaneously. The glow from their exhaust ports flared violently as they accelerated to hundreds of kilometers an hour in a split second, tearing down the designated transit lanes like streaks of golden light.
Vance was pinned against the back of the bike, his cheek mashed against the freezing metal chassis. He could only catch glimpses of the rapidly blurring scenery below from the corner of his eye.
The spires of the Eternity City rapidly fell behind them. Those gilded peaks blazed under the light of the Astronomican, looking like an inverted forest of gold.
Next came the Eternity Wall. The wall, towering thousands of meters high, looked like an endless, ash-black mountain range down below.
The jetbike squadron didn't slow down in the slightest, shooting straight through a massive transit gate bored into the wall.
The moment they crossed the Eternity Wall, the landscape abruptly completely changed. The bustling streets, the towering spires, the dense throngs of people—all of it vanished. Replacing it was a barren, desolate wasteland.
The Kataba Plains.
Vance recognized this place. In the official lore, this was the final natural barrier outside the Imperial Palace. A vast, boundless wasteland. Rumored to be an ancient battlefield of Old Earth, all that remained now was withered yellow scrub and exposed bedrock.
The jetbikes tore through the airspace above the plains for about ten minutes before a new structure finally crested the horizon.
The Ultimate Wall.
The core gateway marking the absolute boundary of the Imperial Palace. A megastructure even more unimaginably massive than the Eternity Wall. Soaring over five thousand meters high, its surface was densely engraved with the Emperor's mantras and Custodian runes. Those runes pulsed faintly under the Astronomican's light, as if they were alive.
Dead center in the wall sat a titanic gate, three hundred meters tall. The gate was currently sealed shut. Boundless batteries of macro-cannons and las-turrets lined the battlements, all their muzzles locked onto the plains.
The jetbike squadron slowly descended before the gate.
Five giants clad in yellow power armor marched out from the guard towers flanking the gates. The clenched-fist heraldry of the Imperial Fists was proudly displayed on their armor. Their bolters remained leveled squarely at the jetbikes.
Simultaneously, the automated turrets on the walls began to track them, painting each jetbike with numerous targeting lasers.
Valdor dismounted from his jetbike, not even sparing the Imperial Fists a passing glance. He simply unclipped a golden token from his belt and held it up casually.
Engraved upon the token was the Emperor's holy sigil, alongside a single line of text...
By Order of the Emperor.
The Imperial Fists Captain took one look, instantly slamming his right fist against his breastplate. The metallic crash echoed through the massive gateway. "Hold fire! Open the gates!"
The Space Marines behind him immediately lowered their bolters and cleared the path.
The colossal gates slowly ground open, revealing the grand corridor leading straight into the Imperial Palace.
The jetbikes powered back up, gliding through the gateway and entering the corridor.
Custodians stood at hundred-meter intervals on both sides of the corridor, their golden armor gleaming with a cold, unyielding light. They held their guardian spears firmly, staring straight ahead, acting as if the speeding jetbikes didn't even exist.
Once they cleared the corridor, the scenery shifted once more.
The Imperial Palace.
The true beating heart of the Imperium of Man. The residence of the Emperor Himself.
Vance had finally laid eyes on it.
It was an endless, sprawling complex composed of countless golden spires, colossal domes, and majestic palaces. Basking in the light of the Astronomican, it looked like an entire city forged from solid gold.
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