Nazareth's eyes locked onto his new armour as its golden chest plate with obsidian red linings made the armour glamorous, with an insurmountable feeling of an armour fit for a god. Not a king, not even an emperor, but a god.
Nazareth's eyes, still looking at the purchase receipt he had gained, looked at the description of the armour, with it being fit for a 'king', yet in front of him, the armour shone with an otherworldly aura that shouldn't be here, yet it stood by itself.
Even Cain, the lafagic dog previously sleeping and ignoring the situation in front of the throne, looked at the armour as though a new toy of unimaginable fondness had appeared before him.
Viserion, still flapping and screaming around the room from the tear in reality—which had disappeared—flew down with his claws open as he picked up the data card, which had been thrown from the tear, and flapped his wings as he flung the card into Nazareth's open hand.
Nazareth looked at the data; a dark-age AI was currently trapped within this tiny template, which was barely larger than Cain's paw.
Originally, he was going to buy more Kreigmen or even the gene-seed maker, but came to the decision of buying his armour and this data card as well as some new soldiers.
Nazareth's mind still remembered the feeling of his own blood, its warm and thick feeling flowing down his throat during his fight with the Alderi farseer trapped within his blade's hilt. The feeling had been deeply ingrained into Nazareth's mind, and when he saw the opportunity to wield armour that, even for a second, could allow him to gain an advantage, he took it.
The new twenty Kreigmen who had just exited from the void still knelt on the marble floor with a dragon salute, their hands before them, as Nazareth began to look at his newly arrived soldiers and their weapons.
Most had the standard Imperial-issued weapons and armour, with only two having plasma weapons.
But one stood out from the rest with golden-encrusted front chain armour, with a golden dragon emblazoned on his cap, with a bolt gun to his side and a power sword to his other. The aura of this man stood like an unbearable sore thumb.
Nazareth's eyes locked onto the figure as, with a wave of his hand, all of the soldiers stood with backs as straight as the certainty that plasteel never rusts.
The evident commissar stood out from the rest of the soldiers before loudly pronouncing:
"I am Commissar Erich of the 11th Siege Regiment of the Death Korps of Krieg. By the authority of the Commissariat and in unquestioning service to the God of Mankind, I present myself for inspection, command, and judgement."
Nazareth looked at this commissar with a hint of happiness and worry, as from his memories he had read how strict and 'unquestioning' a commissar is to his soldiers.
Nazareth's body, on autopilot, stood and walked to the commissar before reaching a hand out. The commissar, seeing this, reciprocated the gesture.
"I, Primarch Nazareth, second in the line of the Imperium, welcome Commissar Erich."
A small amount of force was emitted from Nazareth's hand and the commissar's gloved hand as the wind between the hands moved like a grenade had just gone off.
– Time – A Day After Commissar Erich's Arrival –
"Listen here, you worthless pieces of shit. Our God has given us a mission of great importance."
A group of ragtag freed slaves watched with open mockery marring their faces as a man dressed in better clothing raved about the opportunities given to them by their god.
The man at the head of the group, seeing them ignoring him or seeing him act like a clown, became red in the face.
"You ungrateful gets, my god, Lord Nazareth, has given you a chance and you strive to muck around."
From behind the group, the sound of thudding steps became louder as some within the group turned to see a figure with gold encrusted within his clothes, with a deadly mask blocking them from seeing the figure's face.
Those who had fought with Jurten and the Kreigman realised the man who was watching them was someone of great importance, and part of a group that is mostly seen as angels with weapons of unimaginable power.
The man dressed better than the rest at the front, raving about how ungrateful the group was, seeing the group's quietness, spoke with contempt.
"That's right, and if you don't follow me, I'll personally report to my god's angels who will personally strike you down."
The crowd seemed to reel at the man's words as the figure of Erich moved forward. The group separated like fish to sharks as the man at the front finally saw Erich.
The man's mind seemed to stall at the arrival of a man who looked to be one of their god's confidants.
"Y-You, who are you? Where did you get those clothes? Those are for our god's angels, not some slave who just picked them from the streets."
Immediately, the feeling within the room became filled with awe at the audacity of the man at the front's arrogance towards what looked to be an angel of their god.
A small muffled laugh came from the mask of Erich, and from his hip came the glimmer of his bolt gun.
"I know that I've only just arrived yesterday, but to think such audacity from a little nobody to their higher commander is so blatantly shown."
The man in the better dress looked without a single brain cell at Erich before replying with annoyance.
"I'll say it once again. Slave. Where did you get those clothes? Only my god's angels can wear such clothes."
"I do say, is this boldness or insolence? But even so, our god has given me a mission to weed out the imbeciles and cretin of Luminar."
With a click of Erich's wrist, the strap holding his bolt gun flung open, and with a quick and practised movement, the gun was pointed at the man's head before a loud thunder-like crackle and bang rang outwards, and the man's head exploded with blood and brain matter, spraying the gathered freed slaves.
The group watched in silence as their leader collapsed with no head, dyed red, as a feeling of intense cold overwhelmed them.
Erich looked towards the group before announcing:
"I, by order of Lord Nazareth, First of his Name, second in line to the throne of the Imperium, Second Primarch of the Legions of Terra and her colonies, declare the formation of the Inquisition."
The feeling of coldness surrounding the group became thicker as it seeped into them. No one spoke as Erich promptly walked out of the room. The group, in awe at what had just transpired, stood like zombies before another bang rang from another room in the building.
Nazareth sat upon his throne with his newly purchased armour, giving an aura of holiness as a report was handed to him by an attendant.
Nazareth quickly skimmed the report to see that Erich had taken with great fervour to his new position of High Inquisitor of Luminar. The report stated that within eight hours of being assigned such a position, he had killed at least forty individuals, who, in his report, were deemed 'dullards'.