In the sky of Limnos III, the grace of the God-Emperor manifested once again in the form of a gentle sun.
The celestial body illuminated the planet's horizon and blessed its inhabitants with its peaceful light.
This day promised to be ordinary on the lost planet of Limnos III, for nothing out of the ordinary existed for the native population.
The main continent.
It was a landmass emerging from a vast ocean that covered a good portion of the planet.
It resembled a gigantic "C", with a breach nearly a thousand kilometers wide in its continental flank. This peculiarity allowed seawater to rush in.
Thus, the continent possessed an immense inland sea.
"Magnificent…" Atreus muttered as he observed the planet's surface from aboard the Thunderhawk.
(Image)
"Indeed, Captain. I even find it regrettable to exploit the resources of this land," Anthony expressed while watching the natural spectacle below them.
No pollution.
No planetary wars.
No zones emitting radiation or artificial viruses.
A virgin world, unsullied.
"I will try to limit pollution as much as possible," he thought inwardly while ordering the Thunderhawk pilots to head toward the northern region of the continent.
That was where they had detected a large concentration of intelligent life forms.
…
In the northern region of the main continent lay a territory called Nopoy.
It was a remarkable place, both for the fertility of its soil and the abundant game in its vast dense forest.
At the heart of this flourishing, mountainous ecosystem existed a clan:
the Polus family.
It had been led for decades by Santanas Polus, a high-ranking member of the current planetary government.
The middle-aged man rode a Split-Hoofed Beast, a creature their ancestors had introduced into the ecosystem of this world.
Originally, they had been horses from Terra. However, these creatures no longer shared much real connection with those noble animals beyond their appearance.
"Finally, the hunt," he thought, tightening the reins of the beast as it galloped.
Santanas was a very busy man in his daily life. As an ambitious politician, he devoted all his time to forging alliances and increasing his influence.
Thus, the only activity that could relieve his stress was hunting.
"Too bad I had to bring these people along as well," he cursed inwardly while following the beasts, tracking an enormous "deer."
The members of Santanas's family did not enjoy hunting. Nevertheless, some of his allies occasionally shared this passion with him.
The targets of this activity were all native creatures of this world, as well as those introduced by their ancestors.
So Santanas did not always hunt strange beasts.
He sometimes caught creatures similar to boars the size of a Terran bear, or abnormally large rabbits.
This activity could even benefit the local population, as these beasts destroyed their fields.
Beyond relieving his stress and indirectly helping the people under his rule, Santanas could even socialize with his family and allies.
For all these reasons, Santanas loved hunting.
"Master is as skilled as ever," the butler complimented, observing the slain prey.
Santanas nodded.
His allies and family members thought the butler's words left him indifferent. However, that assumption was false.
As a veteran politician, Santanas had long mastered the art of concealing his intentions and emotions.
A necessary skill to survive in his world.
"Take it away. I want it prepared for the feast as soon as possible," he ordered the butler.
The man bowed politely and signaled the servants to bring the beast away to be skinned and later cooked for the feast.
A grand picnic.
"Master, I dare say your hunting skills are just as high as your political ones," declared an overweight man.
This man was one of Santanas's allies:
Berckman Diocht.
"Tss, stupid puppet… You know nothing about hunting and yet you dare open your mouth?" he thought while displaying a fake smile.
The two men began exchanging pleasantries, with hunting as the basic topic.
Slowly, the conversation drifted toward the real reason for organizing this hunt.
The current governor's term was coming to an end, and Santanas no longer wanted to be merely a member of the council.
He wanted to lead it.
"If I succeed, then my family will reach an unprecedented golden age," he thought while observing his colleague.
If he managed to gather enough support from the other council families, he could enter the history of his lineage as a legend who had ascended to the position of planetary governor.
"My lord, dinner is ready," the butler announced.
After an exhilarating hunt, a feast was always organized using the captured beast as the main dish.
It was also the main reason the members of Santanas's family had come, even though they disliked the idea of hunting.
"Delicious. Freshly killed meat is truly unique," Berckman expressed while savoring the meat before him.
Santanas gave a sincere smile at those words.
There was no better compliment for a noble than appreciation of his hospitality.
Groups of men and women lounged on the grass, enjoying fine wines and refined dishes from the forest.
The discussions ranged from the politics and economy of the surrounding "city-states" to the potential future governor.
"It's getting late," Santanas muttered after noticing the picnic was coming to an end.
The young men tightened their reins, gripping their spears and javelins, all preparing to return to the estate.
However, the group was interrupted by a servant.
"Master! Master!" he shouted urgently.
Santanas's servants were all models of good manners, thanks to the butler's guidance during their training.
Thus, he was surprised to see one rushing toward him without the slightest trace of proper etiquette.
"No matter what news he brings, this young man deserves punishment," he thought, narrowing his eyes at him.
Unfortunately, that plan was cut short.
For some unknown reason, a sandstorm had risen over the hills around them.
The Split-Hoofed Beasts grew agitated while the servants struggled to keep control of the reins.
Braving the violent winds, Santanas looked up toward the source of the wind and sandstorm.
The flying thing before his eyes shocked him, and he let out a weak murmur:
"May the God-Emperor protect us."
In the blue sky of Limnos III, a giant "steel beast" was diving toward their position.
The "steel dragon" had short wings and a massive body. It spat flames and descended vertically. Once on the ground, its roar gradually calmed.
The belly of the steel beast slowly opened, and giants of steel emerged with heavy, rapid steps.
There were twenty of them in total.
Their mere sight inspired absolute terror, erasing any thought of flight from the minds of the group of nobles.
The servants dropped to their knees at this otherworldly spectacle and began praying and weeping.
The young nobles around Santanas were equally distraught after witnessing the scene.
Santanas and Berckman fared better.
The two experienced nobles had decades of experience in their activities and also had access to knowledge forgotten by ordinary people.
This critical element allowed them to react with more dignity.
"Flying steel beasts that carry iron giants… Could these be the legendary Angels of the Emperor?" he analyzed while observing the otherworldly visitors.
The Angels of the Emperor.
They were legendary beings against whom their elders had warned them.
Santanas also recalled the temple frescoes and the tales describing the Steel Angels of the God-Emperor tearing through the sky and leading civilization toward a more advanced age.
They had descended upon their world, leaving behind knowledge and innovation.
"Is this an opportunity sent from the heavens for me to become the head of the council?" he thought while analyzing the situation.
Where others saw beings to worship, Santanas saw an opportunity.
While his mind worked at a speed worthy of a machine, Atreus took the lead of the two Space Marine squads.
He advanced with slow steps to avoid immediately terrifying his interlocutors, then stood before Santanas.
The man seemed the calmest in the group, and also the most distinguished in appearance.
He was clearly not ordinary.
A hiss of air sounded as his helmet depressurized; he raised his hand and removed it.
Atreus's face revealed mature features marked by war.
However, he appeared younger than Santanas.
"Do you speak High Gothic?" he asked out of curiosity.
Although his voice was deep, it managed to somewhat calm Santanas.
There was a military charisma in him that the noble could not easily ignore.
"I do," Santanas replied in a measured tone.
The legends of Limnos III said that this language had been passed down by the servants of the God-Emperor after they brought civilization to their world.
Although rarely used, it was mandatory for high-ranking nobles to learn it.
It was not uncommon for nobles to speak High Gothic to conceal important information.
After all, who would invest in training a spy capable of speaking a language reserved for the high nobility?
"These men," Atreus pointed at the butler and the servants kneeling on the ground, trembling like leaves.
"Who are they to you?" he asked in a calm tone.
Santanas found the question strange, but answered quickly for fear of offending the person before him.
"My servants," he replied immediately.
"Good," Atreus declared.
"Good? What does he mean by 'good'?" Santanas thought, wanting to swear but remaining in control of himself.
He was facing an Angel of the Emperor, whom his ancestors had venerated for generations.
Even though the Great Crusade had ended in failure a few centuries ago, that span of time represented several generations for mortals.
Limnos III had been discovered by a Terran veteran of the Iron Warriors Legion; a millennium had passed since their last encounter with an angel of their god.
"M-my lord, what do you mean by 'good'…" Santanas began.
But he did not have time to finish.
What happened next completely shattered the image of angels that the legends had described to him.
Atreus seized the kneeling butler.
The butler cast a pleading look at his master, whom he had served for years.
However, Santanas simply watched with an impassive expression.
He swallowed hard, not daring to make the slightest movement.
Atreus ignored his screams and desperate struggles, placed a hand on his skull, and pulled violently upward in the manner of certain ninjas from his previous life.
Blood sprayed everywhere as the head, along with part of the spine, was ripped from the body.
Atreus opened his mouth.
The next scene would have been worthy of a horror film: he bit into the butler's head with an impassive expression.
Crunching sounds, like those of a coconut, rang out, revealing the white, viscous flesh inside.
Santanas struggled to remain stoic.
However, his fear did not escape the transhuman.
"This mortal will certainly be useful to me," Atreus thought while digesting the butler's memories.
Atreus was using his Omophagea, an organ implanted during his modifications by the Mechanicus.
This organ allowed him to extract memories from consumed organisms by absorbing their flesh and blood.
Unfortunately, it did not provide high-quality information to its user.
Atreus thus understood that Santanas was not an ordinary human.
The butler had provided him with many valuable pieces of information, despite their fragmented state.
"You may also gather information, but do not touch the nobles," he said to Filon, Barnaby, and Anthony.
Not all lives held the same value. This truth was even crueler in this galaxy.
Atreus needed educated people versed in politics and high society.
For now, the nobles were the only ones who met those criteria.
"The Emperor did not have time to replace them, and Malcador considered them a necessary evil," he thought while observing the richly dressed groups.
Atreus did not like nobility.
Like Horus and Abaddon, he disliked mortals ruling over Astartes.
However, he was not Guilliman.
He was not an administrator capable of controlling everything.
He had to make concessions.
"It seems the Imperial administrators have once again promoted the council system. However, that is good news. Besides that, the Imperial census of the time was inaccurate, as women, children, and slaves were not counted as labor," Filon announced.
Atreus nodded.
He turned toward Santanas and spoke in the local Low Gothic, which he now mastered:
"Councillor Santanas, take us to see the governor of this world," he ordered.
"Ah?" Santanas let out, surprised to hear the local dialect from the Space Marine's mouth.
The noble's confusion made Atreus frown slightly.
"Don't just stand there. I have an entire planet to conquer."