After a flash of golden light, Rhodes and Tartarus arrived at their destination: Vigilus, a key world in the shrouded Nachmund Gauntlet.
Vigilus is a world desperately short on water and wracked by political chaos—a miniature version of the galaxy, so to speak. Why? Because it's a complete free-for-all: local noble houses, the Imperial Cult, the Adeptus Mechanicus, xenos factions, Orks, and the Tyranids' sneaky ilk have all dug in here.
Before the Great Rift tore open, this planet drew far less attention. But after the Imperium Nihilus appeared, the Nachmund Gauntlet—humanity's main artery into the dark half of the Imperium—became crucial.
The Aeldari webway can also bridge into the Imperium Nihilus, but its use is limited and, critically, not under human control. That makes Vigilus's location extremely important.
Vigilus's atmosphere is like a rag torn by countless hands, the air reeking of stench. Compared to Rhodes's Cosmic Beast world, this place is a dump.
The Cosmic Beast world's environment surpasses many garden worlds, even Aeldari maiden worlds.
By Imperial classification, Vigilus should be a hive world, but in some respects it's also a forge world—the Mechanicus has deeply infiltrated it.
They discovered STC units here capable of producing fortress-grade energy shields.
Planetary-scale shield tech that can protect entire hives practically sells itself. On Vigilus, nearly every hive city has a fortress-class energy shield installed.
The Mechanicus' arrival rocketed this world's industrial level past that of many ordinary forges.
To rule more effectively, the dominant noble house, House Agamemnus, formed an alliance with the Mechanicus faction from the forge world Stygia-8.
Only the Omnissiah's followers know how to maintain these ancient shield-production systems—and only they can supply the planet with ample water.
Rhodes's Pedanium energy shield, once mass-produced by the Imperium, did undercut Vigilus's shield business somewhat.
But not much—Pedanium shields are used mainly on battleships and Titans.
They pair with void array fissures, while these fortress shields are for planets and hive cities.
"Great master, intel says the true ruling family here is House Agamemnus, but their power's been heavily squeezed.
"The northern continent is occupied by a Mechanicus faction from Stygia-8.
"A thousand years ago, House Agamemnus traded the northern continent for Mechanicus support.
"Now the Mechanicus isn't content with just the north—they're expanding elsewhere. The Imperial Cult also wields significant influence here," Tartarus reported.
The Stygia-8 Mechanicus practically holds this world's lifeline. Water now comes entirely from their orbital elevators, harvesting ice crystals from cometary clouds.
And the Mechanicus doesn't share resources with other factions. Civilians drink foul, stinking water.
Forget outside powers—internal ones alone (Cult, Mechanicus, and House Agamemnus) are locked in a power struggle.
"What a spectacularly absurd world," Rhodes sighed.
"Master, the Regent's fleet needs a few months to arrive. What do you plan to do in the meantime?" Tartarus asked.
"First order of business: wipe out the Tyranid genestealer cult," Rhodes said.
The planet is chaotic, with civilians living worse than dogs—perfect breeding ground for genestealer infiltration. Here, the cult is called the Pauper Princes, led by the Genestealer Patriarch.
Two hundred years ago, the cult took root, growing into a massive sect in the deepest hive levels.
Rhodes loathes the Tyranids. Genestealers are scum—filth that must be purged.
"Master, just the two of us can't quietly remove an entire cult. We must keep our identities hidden," Tartarus cautioned.
"I know. That's why I brought a very special monster," Rhodes smiled.
The Indomitus Crusade continues, and with the Ork world's demon ranch, Rhodes's system coins keep piling up.
So he keeps rolling the gacha—saving tens of millions as reserve, spending the rest whenever it stacks up. He's pulled some strong beasts—and one system gift box containing exactly what he needed.
This time, he'll unleash something unprecedented against the cult.
"Master, what will you use against the genestealers?" Tartarus asked.
"Ever heard of the Spheres?" Rhodes asked.
"The Spheres? Of course. They're highly assimilative lifeforms—attach them to a Mars rock and it becomes a monster," Tartarus said.
He knew them well—studying every Ultraman across parallel universes to fight the Land of Light. The Spheres are among the nastiest parasitic infections short of the Zettonian biobeasts.
They're the main foes in Ultraman Dyna. The Sphere Mother can even manipulate black holes.
They can fuse with nearly any matter.
"Master, you plan to have a Sphere fuse with the Patriarch?" Tartarus guessed immediately.
The master intends to use a Sphere's special ability to absorb the genestealers.
"Not just the Patriarch. I'll fuse the entire cult and brood," Rhodes said.
"Excellent plan, master. One host wouldn't reach true kaiju-level power. But an entire cult and brood? That will," Tartarus nodded.
Once fused, the genestealers will lose all intellect, becoming slaves to the Sphere—and to the master.
Rhodes smiled and summoned a five-meter-long orb radiating strange white light.
This was his Sphere lifeform—a marvelous cosmic entity that can reproduce by fission as long as it has energy.
Since drawing it, Rhodes had been cultivating it in his system space. Now he had over a dozen.
"Go. Possess the Pauper Princes below. Absorb their entire brood. Erase the cult," Rhodes commanded.
The Sphere flared, then sank into the ground to hunt.
Like a ghost, it slipped through the hive's tangled ducts and ruins, a faint white glow cutting the dark, tracking the cult.
The underhive was a pit of despair—rotting sewage, mountains of industrial waste, and the forgotten cult festering within, spreading like a plague.
Two centuries of growth had infiltrated almost the entire underhive; nearly all the lower classes were believers.
They'd even seeded the water supply with their gene-virus, infecting drinkers into the cult to accelerate spread.
The Patriarch's propaganda worked on the downtrodden: worship the Four-Armed Emperor; believe the Great Emperor will lead mankind to the light.
They preached the Day of Ascension, when the Star-Child would arrive with his fleet to carry his people to paradise—no suffering, no class—only equality and endless food. No more toil; they'd be the Emperor's heavenly flock.
Absurd, laughable—and yet it drew the masses. Underhivers know nothing, care nothing for Imperial Truth.
The cult had even reached into the nobility; some aristocratic houses now sheltered genestealers.
They only care about surviving tomorrow, a full belly today. With the Rift's opening, the warp surged rich and strong. The Patriarch sensed ascension was near—his true master was coming.
The Sphere found a target—a hunched, bald man with an eerie gleam in his eyes.
He knelt before an altar of scrap and bone, muttering warped prayers before a massive idol of the Four-Armed Emperor.
More Devourer than Emperor.
Rhodes and Tartarus watched through their powerful psychic senses.
Target genome: Tyranid-human hybrid detected… Initiating fusion.
The Sphere drifted in, split tendrils of silver-white, and lanced into the man's spine. He didn't even scream—just convulsed.
White luminescent veins crawled under his skin. Flesh twisted and reknit; bones cracked. His body collapsed into a writhing silver mass.
Nearby worshippers were snared by pale tendrils, dragged into the orb as nourishment.
In moments, dozens were eaten.
Then the single Sphere split into a dozen.
Each offspring was independent, hatched through genestealer hosts.
In the deepest caverns, the Patriarch snapped open scarlet compound eyes. Some of his brood had dropped off the network.
As a Tyranid offshoot, genestealers maintain a broodmind network linking all progeny.
Genome parsed… Broodnest locked… Commence operation.
Spheres delved deeper, infecting more believers. Any touched were assimilated within seconds, subsumed into the Sphere network.
Fused hosts grew tall and powerful, firing beams, overpowering genestealers in strength and speed.
Soon, the cult sensed something was wrong—members vanished, reappearing as white orbs that infected their kin.
What took 200 years to build, the Spheres dismantled in hours.
Within minutes, a third of the Patriarch's bloodline winked out.
As broodmaster, he had a powerful body and could sense the network via psychic links.
Now that network was being… eaten.
"Heretical intrusion… someone is invading the brood."