Terra.
The home of humanity.
The core of Imperial power.
The planet where the greatest being—the Emperor—slumbers.
All decrees concerning the Imperium are issued from here, to be executed by the various Imperial institutions.
Orders regarding the deployment of armies, the collection of tithes, the issuance of exterminatus, the fight against xenos, the fight against Chaos, the creation of new forces, the formation of new Chapters, and many others are all issued from Terra.
Terra is the seat of the Imperium's highest authority, a place where every capable noble and powerful figure aspires to be.
Why do they all wish to come to Terra?
Because only by being here do they have a chance, however slim, to grasp ultimate power.
Only then can they climb higher and progress further.
The nobles of Terra also hold themselves in high regard, believing they are the masters of the Imperium, and that it is their wisdom and talent that has allowed this Imperium to survive in the dark galaxy.
This arrogant mindset persisted until the awakening of Guilliman.
Thirteenth Primarch, lord Primarch, Lord Commander of the Imperium—each of Guilliman's titles was awe-inspiring.
Each name represented the legitimacy of the Imperium, signifying his status as the heir to the Imperium.
It represented the vastness of his power.
It represented the terror of his influence.
When news arrived from Macragge, many Terran nobles were quite pleased to learn of Guilliman's awakening.
The Great Rift had arrived, and a series of cataclysms formed by daemons and xenos ravaged the planets of the Imperium.
Wars multiplied, and the Imperium became increasingly weary of dealing with them.
The return of a Primarch was undoubtedly heartening.
He could surely sustain the tottering Imperium and keep it going.
Perhaps he could even allow their own power to advance further and grasp more authority.
However, when Guilliman declared that he would undertake a comprehensive reform of the Imperium's existing system, their attitudes changed.
News of various reforms arrived; families that had endured for centuries were uprooted, allowing more capable individuals to take their place.
Some families who stubbornly resisted were sent en masse to penal camps to be used as cannon fodder.
Hereditary power within families was stripped away; even merchants required unified management to obtain the right to conduct business.
Such news arrived one after another, causing countless nobles to feel panic and unease.
The tax system was also reformed; most of the profits were taken by Guilliman's new system and handed over to the new council on Macragge for reallocation and distribution, to be used for recruiting new troops, developing backward planets, and so on.
Merchant guilds were tightly controlled.
The original tax system was reformed.
Hereditary power was abolished.
These reforms would inevitably cause many nobles to lose their former status.
They truly lacked the confidence to compete within such a vast human population.
Because of this, dissatisfaction grew in the hearts of many nobles; they secretly cursed the Primarch with resentment.
Soon after, they openly cursed him and spread propaganda about Guilliman's alleged misdeeds everywhere.
Terra's evaluation of Guilliman quickly changed from the savior initially promoted to a traitor, a thief of the Imperium.
A despicable and shameless traitor.
The most hated Primarch in history.
They spent more time vilifying Guilliman than they did on their actual duties.
And the Imperial Senate, which Guilliman had once established, was also in constant debate regarding his return.
A portion of them declared that Guilliman's reforms were a betrayal of the Emperor; this faction belonged to the conservatives, and they demanded that Guilliman maintain the original systems and numerous regulations.
Another portion felt that the Imperium had reached a point where change was unavoidable; these individuals belonged to the radicals, supporting Guilliman's reforms, even if it meant a decline in power.
Both sides were at swords drawn, and conflicts were constant.
But overall, on Terra, the power of the conservatives was stronger than that of the radicals.
Those who could enter the Terran bureaucracy were generally from powerful families or top-tier magnates, especially those who entered the Imperial Senate; the power behind them was incredibly vast.
Their millennia of accumulation were surpassed by decades of effort by others, and they were unwilling to accept it.
The struggle between the two factions manifested in various aspects.
The Imperial Senate was also drawn into this turmoil.
As the highest governing body of the Imperium, the Senate was composed of the twelve most powerful individuals of the human race, the High Lords.
This body coordinated and managed various political decisions within the Imperium in the Emperor's name.
Initially, the Senate was created by the Emperor, with Malcador the Sigillite, the Imperial Regent at the time, serving as the head of the council, making various decisions and governing the Imperium on behalf of the Emperor.
With the Horus Heresy, the Senate was eventually dissolved.
After the end of the Horus Heresy, Guilliman, appointed as Lord Commander of the Imperium by the Emperor, rebuilt the Terran Council as a transition, so that he could optimize the Imperial governance structure in the future.
Unfortunately, in the process of pursuing the traitor Primarch of the Emperor's Children—Fulgrim.
Guilliman was inadvertently ambushed; in the Battle of Thessala, he was stabbed by Fulgrim and fell into stasis sleep within a stasis field.
This also led to the management model of the Terran Senate becoming fixed, with no one undertaking further reforms.
In the days that followed, the administrative efficiency of the Senate became increasingly sluggish.
The Senate not only failed to bring change and innovation to the Imperium but instead became the driving force behind pushing the Imperium towards the abyss.
To gain their positions, the High Lords had to promise vast benefits to their supporting families and other magnates, and pledged to look after their interests once in power.
As a result, the chain of interests became increasingly complex.
It is understandable how much resistance Guilliman's reform decrees would face if they were to be implemented on Terra.
One must understand that there have always been individuals who betray their class, but never a class that betrays itself.
Facing the current chaos on Terra, the Imperial Chancellor—Lev Tieron—felt a sense of helplessness.
The situation was becoming increasingly out of control.
Lower-level magnates cursed incessantly, the Imperial Daily published various radical reports, and even the Ecclesiarchy secretly indulged them.
Uneasy and panicked magnates proposed several motions to prevent the Primarch from coming to Terra.
Currently, the High Lords are discussing and debating these motions and plan to implement them.
Tieron felt they had gone mad; at least at this stage, they had fallen into madness.
After a day of futile arguments.
Tieron was summoned by the Master of the Administratum and the First Lord of the Terran Senate, Iltus.
The other party's face was extremely pale, looking completely drained of color.
Tieron knew this was due to the injection of too many life-extending elixirs.
Mortal lifespans are limited.
Living for several centuries is already a very difficult feat.
In these ten thousand years, the Imperium has made no progress in the field of scientific research.
The same holds true for the direction of life extension.
Technological progress has nearly stagnated and is constantly regressing.
This is a very sad state of affairs.
Tieron followed the steps of the Master of the Administratum—Iltus—into a private room, where their conversation could be guaranteed not to be overheard by a third person.
The room was lavishly decorated; a huge red carpet covered the floor, and the walls were hung with precious works by various artists.
The desk was made from raw timber transported from other star systems, and on it were placed fruits brought from agricultural worlds.
Terra has virtually no agriculture left, relying entirely on food transported from other worlds to sustain itself.
These fruits were many times more expensive than an equal weight of gold.
They were very fresh, having been picked no more than a week ago.
For the sluggish Imperium, this was unimaginable.
Of course, this was merely an inconspicuous display of the power held by members of the Imperial Senate.
A single fruit could be the lifetime fortune of a minor noble.
With Warp storms raging and fleets hesitant to travel easily, the price of fruit was also soaring.
Many at the bottom rung, let alone fruit, considered being able to eat their fill a blessing from the Emperor.
Iltus sat in his seat and gestured for Tieron to sit before him.
"The situation is becoming increasingly complex," Iltus said, looking worried and uneasy. "People are becoming fearful and restless."
Tieron remained silent, cautiously observing the High Lord before him, waiting for him to continue.
He was merely an executor of the Imperial Senate's policies; in a sense, he served these High Lords and carried out their orders.
"We must take action to stop the Primarch's absurd measures. His reforms have severely dampened the enthusiasm of many loyalists; many are complaining that they have given their all for the Imperium, and now the Primarch is casting them aside. This is simply too ruthless."
As he spoke of this, Iltus stood up and paced back and forth, his expression becoming increasingly solemn.
"But he is a Primarch, a son of the Emperor, and the Lord Commander of the Imperium. Whether from a legal, traditional, or moral standpoint, he is the heir and primary controller of the Imperium," Tieron said cautiously.
Truthfully, Tieron didn't know what to do either.
The last active Primarch had disappeared thousands of years ago, becoming a myth.
Even the Great Archives, which recorded the laws, could not trace back that far.
No one had anticipated that a Primarch's return would trigger reforms affecting the entire Imperium.
"He was once the Lord Commander of the Imperium; I do not deny that. But do not forget, he was also a part of the Great Betrayal that nearly destroyed us. The traitor Horus, and many daemon Primarchs, were once his brothers. They waged war to seize the Emperor's power, nearly plunging all of humanity into the abyss."
Iltus' tone carried contempt; clearly, the prospect of Guilliman potentially stripping him of his power had caused him to lose his reverence for the Primarch.
"Those fools say this reform will bring a new dawn to humanity. I fear such reforms will only bring us the night of old. Humanity has suffered enough already, and the Primarch has given us even more suffering."
"Do the other High Lords think this way as well?" Tieron asked. "Do they all oppose the Primarch's return and reforms?"
"Some support me: the Ecclesiarch, the Fabricator-General, the Master of the Administratum, and several Marshals. But the Inquisition and the Officio Assassinorum strictly oppose my proposal; they claim that we are placing power above the Imperium," Iltus said with some vexation. "These are groundless accusations, but I cannot prevent them from being made, and their radical words have caused some to follow them."
Tieron felt a pang of sorrow. He looked at Iltus, memories from the past surfacing in his mind.
Before Guilliman's awakening, he had been trying to persuade the High Lords to reinforce the Cadian Gate, and even to deploy the Custodes, to hold the Cadian Gate at all costs.
However, the High Lords' decision-making was exceedingly slow.
Just as the final decision was about to be made, news of Cadia's fall arrived.
This was undeniably a very sad affair.
The High Lords had had a chance to prevent all of this, but due to the inefficiency caused by infighting, they lost their last opportunity.
"Lord, perhaps we should send someone to speak with the Primarch and reach an agreement with him. One must remember that the reforms the Primarch desires will take a long time to achieve. We could become a product of his transition, allowing us to withdraw gracefully, with honor and applause," Tieron proposed a compromise.
The Imperium's territory was vast; Guilliman's reforms would require decades, even centuries, to cover many of the Imperium's domains.
During this period, they would only need to reach an agreement with Guilliman, and they could land safely, without being purged.
In a patch of foul swamp, demanding that the lotus within remain spotless is a foolish thing.
The Terran bureaucracy is just like this; it has been rotten for ten thousand years.
It has even formed unspoken rules: only by becoming the same kind of person can one be accepted by other magnates.
As long as one holds this position, the distribution and entanglement of interests are necessary.
"No, this is not for ourselves, but for the Imperium, for the welfare of its countless citizens." Ilthus expression was grim. "The Primarch's reforms and rise to power are the true danger to the Imperium. Once Guilliman controls the highest authority of the Imperium, what do you think he will do? Another Great Crusade? Purify everything we have worked so hard to build. He is doing that now."
"He launched an Indomitus Crusade, eliminating the nobles who did not obey him and treating the loyalists as xenos and chaos. Isn't this a dangerous sign? As the Lord Commander of the Imperium, you know those forbidden histories, don't you?"
"They were fratricidal madmen who tore the galaxy apart in their struggle for power. Look back at those histories, how much destruction did they bring? Guilliman's return and assumption of power will inevitably bring suffering to the citizens of the Imperium. Have pity on them, Tieron."
Tieron did not reply. He recalled some interesting things.
Before Guilliman awakened, the Lord Commander of the Administratum before him spoke of nothing but the Codex Astartes and the laws created by Guilliman.
When Tieron proposed lifting the ban on the Legions and reinforcing Cadia Fortress, Iltus, the Fabricator-General, and the Lord Commander of the Astronomican, among other opponents, used Guilliman's Codex as their reason for opposing the lifting of the ban.
"This is the wisdom left to us by the Supreme Commander of the Imperium, the great Primarch. The Codex and laws have helped the Imperium endure for ten thousand years. To alter them lightly would undoubtedly be courting disaster."
Tieron clearly remembered Iltus's words from back then.
The supreme wisdom that Iltus had repeatedly praised was now, in his own words, a potential source of rebellion, a terrifying Primarch who had almost fractured the Imperium.
Meanwhile, Tieron, the one who had attempted to undermine Guilliman's Codex, who wanted to lift the ban on the Legions and the Codex itself,
and who had been accused of blasphemy against the Imperial Regent and nearly branded a traitor for it, had become a supporter of Guilliman's reforms.
This was undoubtedly a huge irony and reversal.
These individuals never cared about Guilliman's Codex or anything else; what they cared about were the systems that granted and maintained their power.
Selfishness disguised as loyalty, greed adorned as devotion.
Tieron carefully concealed his true thoughts.
"Then how do you intend to stop him? Besides the support of the law, he is also the commander of a Legion, and those Space Marines will fight for him."
"The Legions no longer exist, do they? The era of Space Marines dominating the star rivers has ended, becoming distant history. The Primarchs should also become history."
"But Calgar and many Chapters are responding to his orders. Otherwise, he couldn't organize such a massive crusade, nor could he build such a magnificent fleet," Tieron said. "According to the available intelligence, Ultramar and several other sectors that have submitted to him already possess the capability for large-scale military production. Those armaments are stronger than those from Mars and are manufactured faster."
"We still have an advantage, don't we?! The Custodes and the Imperial Fists are still on Terra. Many Chapters have not yet declared their allegiance to him. We still have a chance, and many of Mars' war preparations will be unleashed because of this. The rogue traders have already pledged their support to us. The Fabricator-General of Mars has promised to provide us with more armaments and summon the Titans and space marine Chapters loyal to them. The Grey Knights and many Chapters are constrained by the Inquisition. The Inquisition's representatives are very dissatisfied with the Primarch's heavy reliance on Vinsenhoren; they will also be our strength."
"Besides these, the Inquisition of the Ecclesiarchy, the Lord High Admiral of the Fleet, and the Lord Commander Militant of the Imperial Guard have all promised to give us more support. We will be able to mobilize a massive force to prevent the Primarch from reaching Terra. We will pass numerous laws as quickly as possible, then mobilize the army to block the Primarch in the Beta-Garmon system."
Tieron looked at Iltus, a rare trace of astonishment in his eyes, followed immediately by inner anger.
Of course, he didn't show it.
He hid these emotions deep inside.
Facing the predicament on Cadia, Iltus and his supporters claimed they had to follow the Imperium's complex procedures and vote before they could lift the ban on the Legions and mobilize troops to support Cadia Fortress.
And now, facing the threat to their own power,
they could mobilize a massive force at an incredible speed to confront the Primarch.
If they had always possessed such speed before,
the Imperium's numerous enemies would likely have been overwhelmed and destroyed by endless human armies long ago.
"We cannot possibly oppose a Primarch. His military strength and reputation are too great," Tieron said after much deliberation.
"Primarchs are not invincible; they too can fail and die," Iltus's tone became agitated. "As long as we work together, we can defeat him. He cannot take power from our hands, and he will not succeed. We will show him with our actions that the age of Primarchs is over."
"Those fellows say the current Imperium is a slowly decaying corpse, but I never believed it. We are greater than before. The current trials are no different from the difficulties we have overcome before. We are more resilient to hardship and more united than before. The dark age we face is longer than his. His era is over; this era belongs to us."
"The citizens of the Imperium support us. Are we to push those poor people into the abyss? Guilliman's reforms and crusades are a bottomless abyss that will kill everyone."
The Lord Commander of the Administratum had gone mad, Tieron judged, looking at Iltus, who was waving his hands and giving an impassioned speech.
Considering the current strength of the conservatives, Tieron knew he had to act carefully, or he himself might be in danger.
"Then what do you want me to do?"
Iltus walked up to Tieron, his voice filled with frenzy.
"Support us, Tieron, persuade the Custodes and the Assassinorum, and those hesitant or even opposing armies to join us. Make them see the situation clearly and stand on the side of justice."
"We must strive, otherwise the Emperor's authority will be seized by the Thirteenth Primarch. You must let the captain-General of the Custodes know that once Guilliman seizes power, he might directly kill the Emperor to clear obstacles. That way, no one will be able to stop him anymore."
"Guilliman cannot become the new Master of Terra. If he wants to reform, let him stir things up back in Ultramar, hiding in his little kingdom. We can give him enough autonomy. If Calgar and other Chapters want to go to Ultramar, let them; we can create entirely new Chapters to replace them."
Tieron was silent for a moment before nodding. "My duty is to serve the High Lords. If this is the command of the High Lords of Terra, I will faithfully execute it."
"That would be for the best, Lord Commander. You will find you have made an incredibly wise decision," Iltus said.
Tieron smiled slightly, said nothing more, bowed, and turned to leave, ending the meeting.
Stepping out of the Lord Commander of the Administratum's mansion, his assistant and bodyguards, who had been waiting for a long time, ushered Tieron into a flyer.
The Imperial Palace complex was vast, and walking would be too slow.
The best way was to use flyers to quickly travel between buildings.
Terra gathered the most nobles in the Imperium; they all owned their own flyers, considering them a symbol of status.
The flyers weaving through them were like schools of fish in an ocean.
Of course, Terra no longer had oceans.
Tieron had been to other worlds before and seen oceans there.
To be honest, the ocean was beautiful.
It was just a pity it didn't belong to Terra.
The flyer flew directly towards Tieron's mansion. Tieron sat before the high-strength bulletproof glass, looking out at the magnificent city of Terra.
Due to air pollution, the city was always shrouded in a faint, hazy smog.
This layer of cloud allowed Tieron to only see the blurry outlines of the buildings.
Even the sunlight seemed polluted, casting a slightly dim glow upon the structures.
This was the norm on Terra.
In a sense, the homes on Terra were not much different from those on heavily polluted industrial worlds.
The toxic air settled at the bottom of the city.
Inhaled into the lungs of the poor and mutants who had nothing, accelerating their deaths.
The powerful were indifferent to this; they lived at the highest levels, where the air was fresh and pleasant.
They had gardens, fountains, and various luxurious and exquisite mansions that the people in the lower levels did not.
They enjoyed natural and clean food.
They didn't care about the suffering endured by those in the lower levels.
Recently, due to the warp storm, there had been food shortages on Terra.
Yet the High Lords were completely unconcerned; they were busy allocating which navigator Houses should control the safe shipping lanes for their own benefit.
cultists, gangs, and other unsavory elements were also thriving on Terra.
Those in power did not want to clean up these cancerous growths.
When necessary, these growths could be used to attack their enemies or serve as tools for handling some dirty work that couldn't see the light of day.
Tieron sat in the flyer, observing the city of Terra.
Every building was grand and beautiful, extending into the atmosphere.
Various majestic sculptures were everywhere.
The exquisite paintings were all by renowned artists.
This was a glorious city.
The embodiment of the great era Iltus spoke of.
Tieron lowered his gaze. Neon lights flickered; that was where the people of the lower levels lived.
There, people breathed toxic air.
They ate synthetic food.
They were the cheap labor force of the Imperium.
Tieron had recently hoped to pass a law to curb the rampant price increases by merchant guilds, ensuring the lower levels could survive.
But according to the progress of the High Lords of Terra council, it would take at least a year to even consider this law.
Tieron was also quite helpless about this.
There wasn't much he could do, at most he could try to alleviate the suffering of those in the lower levels as much as possible.
The Imperial bureaucracy had become an extremely inefficient yet bloody and cruel machine. Tieron knew himself well; he could not change this machine.
Tieron withdrew his gaze, tapped his desk, and fell into thought.
He recalled every conversation with Iltus, while simultaneously reviewing recent intelligence reports, guessing which forces Iltus and the others would mobilize, and what he himself could do.
He didn't like civil war.
At least at this moment, starting a civil war was foolish.
He didn't like Guilliman either; the other party's reforms would cause him to lose many things.
His family's influence and years of accumulated wealth.
But he knew very well that Guilliman was still right.
The Imperium was terminally ill, and continuing to maintain the old system would only lead it into the abyss.
He had to fulfill his duty to protect those worlds and the Emperor from being harmed by xenos and chaos.
For the sake of his duty, Tieron could only help Guilliman.
Help the other party dismantle the crisis of civil war.
Help the other party clear obstacles, reach Terra, and place the noose of reform around his neck, destroying everything he had.
The flyer passed through the towering skyscrapers and finally landed on the large platform in front of Tieron's mansion.
Dozens of bodyguards emerged, checking the surroundings for him.
Assassinations were common.
They usually came from political enemies wanting to rise to power or factions with different ideologies.
After confirming it was safe, Tieron exited the flyer and entered the mansion.
A servant reported that the Cadian general he had arranged to meet earlier was already waiting for him.
Tieron received the other party in his study.
The other party was very tall, with a sturdy build and strong, powerful limbs, like a small giant.
A bionic eye had been installed in the place of his right eye.
He had a scar running across his entire cheek and short, grey hair.
He exuded the unique aura of a soldier, fierce and violent.
His face was weary, but his demeanor remained relatively composed.
"General Hastur," Tieron offered him a drink, his tone very amiable.
This was his innate talent; he could always adapt to the other person's most comfortable state and tone.
Hastur and Tieron had a good relationship because Tieron was among the few on Terra who cared most about Cadia.
Urging Mars to deliver the promised equipment to Cadia, proposing more support, and allocating supplies – all of this was pushed by Tieron.
"Lord Chancellor," Hastur said with weariness, accepting the drink from Tieron. "May I ask why you summoned me?"
After Cadia fell, the surviving Cadians fought fiercely everywhere, trying to numb themselves and forget that their home world had been destroyed by the Great Despoiler, Abaddon.
Hastur was no different.
During this time, he had encountered some difficulties and chose to return to the Sol system.
He wanted to obtain documentation from Terra to secure more resources so he could continue his offensive against the enemies of humanity.
"Didn't you receive orders from the Lord Admiral or the Lord Commander Militant?" Tieron asked. "Orders to change your objective."
"I did. They want me to go to the Beta-Garmon system to stop the Imperial Regent. I think they've all gone mad," Hastur said without reservation. "And I find it ironic. It took me ten years to get fifty regiments, five or six hundred thousand men. Now, they've assembled a force hundreds of times larger in just a few months."
"If they had this efficiency back then, Cadia would never have fallen. With all due respect, this is nothing short of betrayal. Cadia became a sacrifice in a political struggle."
The slow processes on Terra were like a bottomless abyss, making ambitious individuals feel both pointless and frustrated.
At a time when humanity faced an unprecedented crisis, the bureaucracy of Terra became an obstacle on the path to salvation.
Only when the interests of the powerful were threatened did the system begin to operate quickly.
"You are very angry about their orders," Tieron said.
"Shouldn't I be angry? My home was destroyed, over ninety percent of Cadians died on the battlefield, and I'm like a stray dog roaming the galaxy, biting wildly to vent my rage," Hastur said furiously.
"I came to Terra, groveled and begged for support, pleaded with the High Lords to pay attention to the threat of the Great Despoiler, but they turned a blind eye. I spent a full decade and finally left with only a few hundred thousand men."
"And now, they've spent a few months assembling millions of Astra Militarum, a massive Imperial Navy, and the Titan Legions. Is this not Terra's betrayal of Cadia?"
Tieron said nothing. Hastur had every right to be angry.
And this anger was what he needed.
Cadia had defended the Imperium against the Great Despoiler and the Eye of Terror for ten thousand years, only to fall due to the increasingly corrupt Imperial bureaucracy.
They became wanderers, ostracized and given cold shoulders everywhere they went.
They could only numb themselves through frantic fighting.
Once Hastur calmed down, Tieron spoke again. "I hope you will heed their call and join the forces heading to Beta-Garmon."
"What do you mean? You want me to continue serving the High Lords who abandoned Cadia, to fight against a Primarch's army? To use Cadian lives to solidify their power?"
Hastur's eyes blazed with anger as he questioned Tieron.
"No, Hastur," Tieron said. "That is not my intention. The Imperium cannot withstand a large-scale civil war right now. Every soldier who dies fighting for power is a terrible crime. Their lives should not be wasted like this. But I cannot stop the madness of the High Lords. The conservative faction led by Yarrick controls most of Terra's power. Therefore, I cannot openly oppose him."
"To stop this civil war, the only hope lies with the Imperial Regent. His military strength is considerable, and most Chapters support him. You will join Yarrick's forces heading to Beta-Garmon. At the critical moment, you will transmit relevant defensive intelligence and defect on the battlefield. This will deal a blow to the morale of an already unstable army, allowing the Primarch to achieve victory with minimal casualties."
Hearing this, Hastur's anger subsided considerably.
"Will that work? It'll be difficult with just my troops, won't it?"
"You won't be fighting alone. During this time, I will rally a portion of like-minded generals and lobby the Chapter Master of the Imperial Fists and the captain-General of the Custodes. We don't need to destroy the entire dam; by breaking critical points, we can make the dam collapse under water pressure. And the forces Yarrick is assembling are the dam we need to deal with."
Tieron laid out his plan.
Hastur fell silent. After a moment, he agreed.
The conservative faction on Terra was too powerful; Tieron's method was undoubtedly the best.
Receiving Hastur's promise, Tieron smiled. "Very good. But please keep our conversation strictly confidential, or all will be in vain."
"I will," Hastur said.
Tieron escorted Hastur to the door, gave him the Aquila salute, and bid him farewell. "May He protect you."
"And may He protect you," Hastur said.
Then, he walked towards his flyer and departed under the protection of several personal guards.
Tieron watched the flyer leave, then ordered his attendant to retrieve a data-slate and review the records of various units.
He needed to see who he should persuade next.
Only those dissatisfied with Terra's bureaucracy and who held hope for the Primarch could be won over.
He had to proceed with extreme caution.
Otherwise, if Valerius and others found out, the consequences would be unimaginable.
The High Lords would certainly not hesitate to send assassins or use their connections and power to eliminate him.
While undercurrents surged among the upper echelons of Terra, the lower classes were also experiencing turmoil.
The collapse of the Great Rift and humanity's dark fate were influencing the lower classes in a peculiar way.
Warp storms made warp travel dangerous, and many fleets dared not risk the journey.
Several families, using a few hidden safe routes and the protection of High Lords, monopolized the supply of goods.
And using the risk of warp travel as an excuse, they raised prices and began to accumulate wealth frantically.
The Adeptus Arbites and the Inquisition were powerless against this behavior.
These families exploited loopholes in Imperial law and used the influence of their merchant guilds to interfere with the High Lords' decisions.
Coupled with the inefficiency of the High Lords' council, these families were utterly unrestrained.
These families were shamelessly raising prices several times a day.
The prices were so exorbitant that they were stripping every last drop of wealth from the poor.
Forcing them to sell everything they owned to enrich the families of the vested interests.
Inquisitors and Arbites officers could only desperately suppress the lower classes attempting to riot.
Numerous ringleaders inciting the mob were sentenced to be burned at the stake, a display of iron fist to declare that Imperial order was inviolable.
"These traitors will be sentenced to the stake. They have been corrupted by cultists. In the name of the Emperor, death to these traitors!"
An Arbites official stood on a hovering platform, using a loudspeaker to declare the verdict to the crowding Imperial citizens.
Several men and women were pushed onto the pyre.
The enforcers pulled the trigger, flames shot out, and amidst screams, the individuals were burned to charcoal.
Their faces wore triumphant, arrogant smiles, as if declaring to the people,
See, I have burned another Chaos traitor for the Emperor.
How noble, how righteous this is.
The Emperor will rejoice in my actions.
Nava was one of the onlookers among the civilians.
He watched his friend scream in the flames. His friend's two children, hearing their father's screams, hid in his arms, weeping silently.
Tears streamed down their young faces, their eyes filled with hatred.
Realizing the Arbites were coming, his friend had sent his children to Nava's home to avoid implicating them.
Fortunately, the Arbites only wanted to quickly suppress the riot and declare the inviolability of Imperial law with a strong hand.
They did not want to waste time investigating the backgrounds of these ringleaders.
After executing the leaders, the Arbites left.
Nava looked at his friend's body, sadness on his face, but he was helpless.
No one dared to collect the body, or they would be branded as cultist traitors.
Nava felt immense anger in his heart. He knew one thing very clearly.
His friend, whom he had known for years, was absolutely not a cultist traitor.
He was just a poor worker who wanted the merchant guild to stop raising prices.
His meager salary was entirely spent on food, not enough to support himself and his two children.
Because of this, his friend could only protest the merchant families' price hikes, hoping to unite everyone to resist the dishonest merchant guilds taking advantage of the situation to hoard wealth by raising prices.
The situation escalated out of control in the dispute between the merchant guild's unwillingness to compromise and a group of people driven mad by hunger.
The protesters turned into rioters, stormed into the merchant guild, killed the clerks, and stole food.
But for the high and mighty elites of Terra, the lower classes were never worth paying attention to.
For the great Imperium, the lower classes should silently endure hardship and bear the burden.
They were filled with unparalleled anger over this riot. It was a provocation against the Imperium.
The Adeptus Arbites struck like thunder, arresting the ringleaders with lightning speed and sending them to the pyre.
The bodies were left on the pyre, uncollected.
Nava also dared not collect the bodies. The Arbites were arresting people everywhere now, and collecting the body would undoubtedly give them an excuse.
A charge of colluding with cultists and betraying the Emperor would be leveled.
At best, one would be severely punished; at worst, the pyre awaited.
He picked up the two children and walked home.
Along the way, some projection images were displayed.
Speeches by several important figures were being broadcast.
An Arbites propaganda officer was roaring in the image.
"This is the best of times. We have achieved greater accomplishments than our ancestors. Look at the magnificent structures of Terra, look at our armies. The Emperor will surely be pleased. However, cunning traitors still seek to take all of this away. I call upon the people to arm themselves and resist the enemies who seek to destroy our beautiful lives. That traitor who has forsaken the Emperor's glory and seduced people with misleading words is about to reach the Beta-Garmon system, and our brave army has assembled and will surely drive back that hateful traitor and keep him outside the sacred Sol system."
Nava paid no attention to this and continued walking with the children.
But after a moment, another image appeared.
A man dressed in luxury, clearly from high society, was speaking eloquently about the rebellion.
"Regardless of the reason, rebellion is intolerable. It is a blasphemy and betrayal of the Holy Emperor. The Adeptus Arbites should suppress those damned rioters with an even stronger hand, upholding the dignity of the Imperium and the law of the Imperium."