The turbulent warp echoes with the insatiable desires and complex emotions of all sentient beings.
Hungry null-beings cling to the cliffs materialized from the fantasies of real life, watching covetously as fleets sail past them.
The flesh and souls of humans make them shriek with hunger, their piercing cries echoing through the warp, mixed with the etheric storms.
With the appearance of the Great Rift, humanity has become increasingly reliant on the existence of the Geller field.
Without this mysterious technology, it is feared that humanity would absolutely be unable to safely traverse the warp.
Those hungry null-beings would devour any unprotected human ships, dragging them into the most terrifying and profound depths of the warp.
No one knows what terrible fate awaits the ships lost in the depths of the warp.
When those ships reappear in the real universe, they are often already unrecognizable, and even the passengers on them have long been extremely twisted, becoming unspeakable monsters.
In the depths of Macragge's Glory, Cherubael shrieked excitedly, sensing the aura of the warp.
As long as he could enter the warp, he would gain freedom.
He had gained a comprehensive understanding of Eisenhorn's abilities and the daemon Cherubael, the forbidden tome that bound him.
Once he entered the warp, he would run far away, ensuring that the other party's sorcery could no longer confine him.
Unfortunately, the warp was so close to him, separated only by a Geller field.
But for him, it was an insurmountable chasm.
The daemon host body inscribed with runes, the object of the priests' prayers—the Emperor's shrine, and the will left by Guilliman were all binding him, and Eisenhorn was facing this daemon prince directly, constantly vigilant against his escape.
"Release me, Eisenhorn, and you will obtain what you have always dreamed of. Don't you yearn to resurrect your friends? Bequn, Midia, Amos... as long as you help me break free, I will help you resurrect them."
"Master, I am Bequn, haven't you forgotten? I am your favorite disciple."
"Why don't you save us, Eisenhorn?"
Cherubael tempted Eisenhorn, even imitating the voices of those who had passed away, attempting to shake Eisenhorn's incredibly strong will.
He hoped that Eisenhorn would immerse himself in the grief of those who had passed away, thereby allowing a small crack to appear in his heart.
A crack represents weakness, represents corruption.
Sad people are always the easiest to take advantage of.
Daemons are always like this; as long as they find a trace of weakness, they will expand it infinitely until the target is completely corrupted and heads towards an irreversible abyss.
"You are forever so foolish, Cherubael. The names you mentioned only let me know how despicable you warp beasts truly are. Your promises will always only be fulfilled in a twisted way. The only thing you can give humanity is the habituation to pain. I will never forget my duty, Cherubael. Do not try to find a crack in my heart; you are destined to gain nothing," Eisenhorn said.
"You will, Eisenhorn. No one can resist temptation forever. The Son of the Accursed leaving you here to guard me was the biggest mistake. I know your weakness; you will slowly collapse. And I will escape and regain my freedom."
"Wait another ten thousand years, you idiot," Eisenhorn said. "Wait until ten thousand years from now, when people have forgotten about you, this pathetic daemon prince. Perhaps no one will care about you then."
"Heh heh, is that so? I don't need ten thousand years. Soon, I will be free."
Eisenhorn did not reply again. He fell into silence, fulfilling his duty as a guard like a statue.
The uppermost deck of Macragge's Glory.
Guilliman's office was located here.
As the Emperor's son and the only remaining Primarch of the Empire, Guilliman's work was very heavy.
Before the war began, he had to quickly deal with the relevant political affairs and then have the Astropaths transmit them back so that the new council members on Macragge could carry out his orders.
The Primarch's rallying power was very strong. More and more Chapters gathered on Macragge: the Roaring Griffons, the Storm Falcons, the Exemplars, and so on. Each Chapter came from all directions, joining the Indomitus Crusade called by the Primarch.
They brought more fleets and warriors.
At this time, these warriors were undergoing an upgrade project led by the Archmagos.
After some time, the Primaris Space Marines with four additional organs would be put into use.
They would be even stronger than the Primaris Space Marines in the original timeline. They possessed the Heart of Guilliman, built with dark matter bio-engine integration technology, as well as three entirely new organs researched by Archmagos Cawl over ten thousand years.
They would be invincible, crushing all enemies attempting to overthrow the Imperium and sweeping away all enemies of humanity.
New warships were also being forged. More industrial worlds were requisitioned by Archmagos Cawl, fully dedicated to building new warships.
To improve efficiency, Cawl, with Guilliman's endorsement, utilized a new method, modular assembly, which greatly reduced the cost and time of building warships.
The Imperium's shipbuilding often relied on STCs, Standard Template Construct modules, a dark technology from the Golden Age.
Cawl completely abandoned the use of STCs, using data blueprints to have different Forge Worlds produce different parts and then assemble them.
This method greatly reduced the time to build warships.
Of course, the warships built using this method would have slightly lower performance, but the construction speed was increased tenfold, even twentyfold, and the cost dropped sharply.
The sheer numbers were enough to compensate for that negligible difference.
Cawl and Guilliman's actions aroused the dissatisfaction of other members of the Adeptus Mechanicus. They strongly demanded that Guilliman abandon this blasphemous practice against the Omnissiah and demanded that he severely punish Cawl.
Guilliman appeased these Archmagos, stating that he would find an opportunity to deal with this matter. At the same time, he further increased Cawl's authority, allowing him to mobilize more resources and accelerate the forging and commissioning of warships.
In addition to the improvement of military strength, Guilliman's awakening and various orders also caused a series of commotions.
Those worlds not ruled by dynasties responded to the reforms proposed by Guilliman, building more academies and preparing to train the technical personnel required by the Primarch.
A large number of young people of eligible age were screened out and sent to various academies, preparing to become gears in Guilliman's crusade machine.
With the support of the Primarch, the William Merchant Guild, the Nancy Merchant Guild, and other rogue trader teams who had sworn allegiance on Macragge, rapidly rallied the rogue traders who were willing to support the Primarch.
They gradually squeezed out the rogue traders who were unwilling to reform, compressing their living space, and even specifically targeting and suppressing those family trades, causing them to lose a large amount of trade volume and thus rapidly decline.
This was also a war, without any smoke, but equally cruel.
Guilliman received reports of many assassination attempts.
Some rogue traders loyal to him were assassinated as a challenge to him.
The families and rogue traders whose sore spots were stepped on entered a state of madness. They were already resorting to despicable means to defend their interests.
Guilliman examined this information, extracting important details, and constructing a mental map of the current situation in his mind.
He knew very well that these stubborn conservatives wanted to know his attitude.
They wanted to know how far the Primarch would go for reform.
Guilliman would let them know his attitude, right in the Natal system.
He would have the Astropaths transmit what happened in this system throughout the entire Imperium, including Terra.
He would tell those people what the consequences of obstructing his reforms were.
Obey the reforms, and they would live.
Do not obey the reforms, and they would die.
There was no third way.
Footsteps sounded outside the reception room, followed by a series of elegant knocks, each one rhythmic.
"Come in," Guilliman said.
The door opened, and a woman wearing a simple emerald green dress, holding a data-slate and a data-stylus, and followed by a humming, floating servo-skull, walked in.
"Lord," the woman bowed, "the Voyes family sends you their most devout greetings."
"No need for such formalities, Yasily, I need your help."
"It is my honor, and the honor of the Voyes family."