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When Eden saw the message Perturabo had sent, he was genuinely surprised.
He had already ordered the Machine Goddess to lock down all information regarding the Lord of the Mountain Bastion's return.
So how had it leaked to the other side of the Imperium so quickly, and reached that prickly tsundere so fast?
"Father, I already listened to you and sealed all the data."
Before Eden could even ask, the Machine Goddess Webby appeared on the screen in her anime-girl form, looking pitiful.
Her watery eyes still had two big tears hanging from them.
Putting on a thoroughly wronged expression, Webby continued, "But before you ordered me to seal the data, one source had already leaked it..."
As she spoke, she sent over a section of virtual footage.
It was from one of the Savior-praise broadcast reels produced by the propaganda department. Included in it was footage from Pilgrim Ship Redemption-113.
Dorn, disguised as an abhuman, stared foolishly at the Savior's holy statue, then suddenly dropped to his knees with a loud thud, tears streaming down his face.
Utterly loyal.
The propaganda department had deliberately selected that clip as a model example of abhuman devotion to the Savior and included it in its related broadcasts.
From there, it had been transmitted to countless civilized worlds across Imperial territory, with innumerable recordings and backups made along the way.
There was no realistic way to recover and control all of it now.
That included the Charadon region where Perturabo's research base was located.
That prickly tsundere had most likely spotted Dorn in one of those broadcasts and inferred that he had returned to the Imperium.
After all, as abstract as Perturabo could be, he was still one of the most intelligent of the primarchs, and he was highly skilled at using data networks.
Under those circumstances, it would have been very hard to hide it from him.
"Sigh. Pull down any broadcasts that include Dorn's image. As for the copies and recordings that have already leaked out, leave them alone.
Trying to chase all of that down would be far too much trouble."
Eden issued the order, doing what he could to halt the spread of the relevant footage.
Still, that clip had already spread to at least thousands upon tens of thousands of civilized worlds. There was no way to erase all traces of it.
To truly cover it up completely, the Inquisition would have to go out and drag up every last copy one by one.
It was not worth the effort.
More importantly, that prickly tsundere Perturabo had probably already started spreading Dorn's embarrassment with all his might.
As expected, Eden received another new message in the very next moment.
Chief Scientist of the Imperium:
Look at this #$@!% massive idiot, hahahaha!
Attached to the message was a video clip of Dorn kneeling on the ground and bawling, complete with special effects.
Savior: ...
Eden took a deep breath. He had not expected Perturabo to adapt so quickly to the Adeptus Mechanicus' psychic network warfare methods and trash-talking atmosphere.
He issued a new order to Webby.
"Try to restrict the Dorn-related footage Perturabo is uploading.
Don't let that content spread too far."
He could not just directly block Perturabo's messages either. If he did, that prickly tsundere would think his good brother was taking the side of the Lord of the Mountain Bastion.
That was exactly how the Emperor had handled things back then, and it had only worsened the conflict between Perturabo and Dorn.
One was a prickly tsundere. The other was a gigantic stubborn mule.
Even the Emperor had found it difficult to handle a dispute like that.
Even if the Emperor punished Perturabo, it would only deepen that man's hatred of Dorn.
He was extremely hard to reason with.
Right now, the best solution was to suppress the negative material on both sides and keep the two of them from facing each other directly.
Then he could work on easing their conflict step by step afterward.
After some thought, Eden replied to Perturabo's message and sent over a picture.
Savior:
Rogal Dorn really has returned to the Imperium. I beat the hell out of him on Holy Terra.
The image showed Dorn covered in injuries, collapsed on the ground, with an auramite dart stuck in his rear.
After a long silence, Perturabo finally replied.
He seemed rather emotional.
Chief Scientist of the Imperium:
Hahahahaha, saved it.
I... I knew it, brother. You'd help me teach that idiot a lesson. We're the best primarch brothers!!!
Attached image -
The Savior and the Lord of Iron with their arms slung over each other's shoulders like close brothers, while beneath their feet lay the Lord of the Mountain Bastion in miserable shape, a dart sticking out of his rear.
That prickly tsundere's simmering resentment had clearly eased quite a bit.
In truth, the moment Perturabo saw the Savior's message, he had already been moved. No primarch brother had ever treated him this well before.
After seeing the reply, Eden was not especially surprised.
Communication between people was all about strategy.
If you wanted someone with a different opinion to accept your point of view, then you had to narrate things from their perspective.
You acknowledged part of their position first, and only then introduced your own.
That way, the result was often far better.
As for the truly top-tier operators, they could quietly plant their own viewpoint into someone else's mind and make the other person think it had been their idea all along.
When communicating with an extreme tsundere like Perturabo, the first requirement was to let him know you were on his side.
Only then could you reduce his resistance and keep the conversation going.
That was the message Eden's reply had conveyed.
Brother, I'm on your side. I even helped you vent your anger.
We're the real brothers.
That was the only way to maintain a good atmosphere for communication, instead of stupidly jumping straight to things like, "You need to do this or that," or "For the good of the Imperium, don't clash with the Lord of the Mountain Bastion."
That would only intensify the conflict.
As for the Emperor, He was a textbook example of what not to do.
Whenever He spoke to the primarchs as father and sons, He always did it from an opposing position.
It was always, "I'm your father, so you must listen to me," or, "For the good of the Imperium, you must sacrifice, you must endure."
And when dealing with conflict between the primarchs, the Emperor had not chosen to soothe or dissolve those contradictions. Instead, He responded with forceful suppression, punishment, favoritism, and the like.
His opening move was always a brutal slap, or else striking both sides equally.
It could be said that the Emperor never truly understood the primarchs at all. He never knew what each of them was thinking, or what they really wanted.
Or perhaps He simply did not want to understand. Perhaps He regarded the primarchs as His possessions and believed they all just had to follow His will.
That only drove their conflicts deeper, and in the end He was repaid with betrayal.
"Sigh. When brothers don't get along, it's usually because the parents failed them..."
Eden sighed with feeling.
But he could understand it too. The Emperor had been Rome's passionate wanderer, mankind's strongest immortal, a born apex hero.
Making someone like that serve as father to more than twenty flawed primarchs was, frankly, a bit much.
Eden was more inclined to think the Emperor had simply been forced into it.
Originally, the old man had been living it up in Rome, drowning in wine and pleasure, fooling around to his heart's content.
Then suddenly He foresaw that humanity was going to be finished in the near future, and that He, as an immortal, was the only one who could save it.
At that point, what else could He do but step up?
But from that, and from His later act of taking the Golden Throne, it was clear that for all His excesses, when it truly mattered, the old man did step forward.
No argument there. A real man.
After thinking it over, Eden sent another message to Perturabo.
Savior:
Dorn is in my hands right now. Do you want to come to Holy Terra and give him a proper beating while the Emperor still hasn't awakened?
But you'd better hurry. The Emperor could wake up at any moment.
When that happens, I, as the Emperor of the Imperium, won't be able to help you anymore. You know how it is...
The meaning was obvious.
Brother, I support your revenge. I'm doing my best to help.
But as the Emperor of the Imperium, I carry responsibilities. I'm in a difficult position too.
Of course, he was only making a show of it, morally pressuring him a little.
He did not actually want Perturabo to come to Holy Terra and settle accounts with Dorn. The moment those two met, they would go feral and bash each other's heads in.
That would end badly.
Chief Scientist of the Imperium:
Thanks, brother. I'm busy researching an Aeldari craftworld right now. I'll settle accounts with that idiot later!
Perturabo's tsundere personality flared up again. He felt that his Savior-brother had already done more than enough for him, and he could not make that brother's situation too difficult.
More importantly, he had just obtained a huge quantity of resources and several large research projects, so he really could not get away.
To the Lord of Iron, more important than getting revenge on Dorn was realizing his ideals and creating a perfect world for humanity.
So he decided to wait for another opportunity in the future to take his revenge on Dorn properly.
Ding. Eden sent another message.
Savior:
All right. I support your thinking. Research really is more important.
Whatever resources you need, ask as soon as possible. Brother, I'll get them all for you!
Chief Scientist of the Imperium:
Good brother! (Fists clasped)
Savior:
Personal sticker pack. Thumbs-up, grinning.
"Handled."
Eden ended the communication and nodded in satisfaction.
For the moment, he had resolved the conflict.
That prickly tsundere would remain at the research base, pursuing his ideals and contributing to the Imperium. For at least the next ten or twenty years, he would not be able to get away, at most just posting cursed images online to cyberbully Dorn.
The moment Eden had received word that Dorn might have returned, he had already begun micro-managing things on Perturabo's side.
In an extremely short span of time, he had approved huge quantities of research resources and funding for Perturabo's base, and had also conjured up several absurdly difficult large-scale civilian research projects that existed only as PowerPoint decks.
Things like vacuum energy generation and perpetual-motion machines.
He had arranged things perfectly for that brother.
Stay inside the research base and go do research for me!
That way, conflict could be avoided.
Under the combined effect of all those factors, Perturabo's thinking had been quietly guided in a different direction.
Of course, in a sense, it was also a win-win.
People had free will. They were not machines.
As a ruler, Eden's job was to maintain authority while also reconciling all sides.
He had to seek common interests amid conflicting forces, achieving consensus and promoting unity wherever possible.
That was no easy task.
He had barely let out a sigh of relief before he felt the pressure coming from the Palace. Activity on the Golden Throne had intensified sharply.
...
Meanwhile.
In the Warp, New Dragon Forest.
It was one of the remnants of Caliban, carrying a special power.
The former daemon-engineer Vashtorr had quietly dragged it into the Warp.
There, it had swollen and continued to expand.
After his death, this planet-like body fell under the control of the Chaos Gods and was handed over to the human traitor Erebus for management.
Boom, boom, boom -
Demonic iron nerve-clusters spread everywhere in dense masses. Dark forging machinery roared without pause, and thick smoke billowed through the air.
Those Dark Mechanicum members and daemon-forge engineers who had refused to submit to the Savior were here researching the arts of Chaos machinery.
In the void stood four boundless Chaos presences.
Different forms of warp power occupied their own regions, each sending twisted pressure toward this place.
They were furious.
"Incompetent trash! Cowards!"
The Blood God Khorne roared, and blood-flame surged up in blazing waves.
The Chaos Gods were enraged.
A crack had finally appeared in Terra's defenses. It had been the perfect chance to strike and weaken its protective strength.
But before They could intervene, those greater daemons had cowardly given up the opportunity, allowing the Savior to repair the breach.
Now, no matter how hard They battered at it, They could no longer shake the veil between the Warp and reality, much less strike at the accursed one's Palace.
Though They had severely punished those cowards, the lost opportunity could not be recovered.
"Great Gods, this may actually be a good thing."
Erebus stood atop a towering forge-platform and looked up at the Chaos Gods in the void as he spoke.
He seemed very confident, carrying himself with the posture of a master strategist.
Even when the power of the Chaos Gods seized him, he showed no fear.
"We already have the layout and defensive structure of Terra."
Soon enough, Erebus endured the pain and projected the relevant data outward.
"The defensive system the Savior has so carefully built for Terra is certainly formidable, but it is not impregnable.
Our dark forging techniques are also constantly advancing. They are enough to launch an offensive..."
Before the breach over Terra had been sealed, Erebus had already moved.
Using the dark relic-technology of New Dragon Forest and the spreading warp corruption, he had quietly scanned the vast majority of the Imperial heartland.
He had obtained a massive amount of information on Terra's defenses.
The Savior was constantly improving Imperial technology and knowledge of the Warp.
In response to that threat, Chaos had finally begun taking it seriously as well, using the remnants of the daemon-engineer's authority to continually study the art of dark machinery.
All of it was in preparation for countering the Savior's technological methods.
This was an arms race.
Chaos was using the Warp's distorted time flow, the knowledge of its secret libraries, and its endless energy to make up for its disadvantages, gradually catching up to the Savior's research progress.
And that would allow daemons to seize the advantage in the galaxy once more.
"The Savior's defensive trump cards on Terra have now been completely exposed.
The retreat of the greater daemons just so happens to lower that man's guard and make our coming surprise attack even smoother."
Erebus continued, "It will be a crushing offensive.
The Savior will discover in despair that the defenses he so painstakingly built have been pierced by dark machinery, while even his infernal weapons will be blocked by Chaos barriers.
He will have no power to resist.
Even that accursed one, that false Emperor, will have no means of fighting back!"
The Hand of Destiny, the dark apostle, turned to look over the forge-complexes spread across New Dragon Forest and the towering machine that stood several kilometers high, black as pitch and gleaming with an unnatural sheen.
Shadowlight.
That relic-artifact had already been fully assembled.
Its immense capacity for alteration and its sealing properties were enough to affect the veil between the Warp and reality.
Shadowlight could create a special cage, one that would lock the Emperor, that accursed one's power, inside a certain region of the Warp.
It would prevent Him from aiding humanity, and prevent His power from reaching distant places.
He would truly become a prisoner of the Warp.
Erebus was already looking forward to it. The Imperium had too many places to defend, and the primarchs could only split up and guard them separately.
He, on the other hand, only needed to strike a single Terra.
That attack would be a collective assault by multiple fallen primarchs. The Imperium would not even have time to rush back and reinforce it.
The decisive battle in the Chaos Warp, the one that would shatter humanity's hopes, would erupt suddenly in the near future.
It would be an unprecedented surprise decapitation strike.
Holy Terra.
Boom!
A fierce psychic reaction erupted from the Palace district, spreading outward in wave after wave.
Any being with psychic sensitivity felt that abnormal fluctuation at once.
"The Emperor..."
The astropaths, psykers, and even the Librarians on Terra all gradually became uneasy.
What came from the Golden Throne was oppressive darkness, restless fury.
And that emotion was coming from the Golden Throne itself.
(End of Chapter)
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