Meanwhile…
Venomfang sat upon the throne of the Tyrone Hive Governor, as he always did, overseeing military affairs. His presence was a mockery of Imperial rule, a usurper wrapped in stolen authority, his twisted ambitions festering within the decrepit walls of the once-glorious command spire.
Before him stood his attendant, a gaunt, hollow-eyed man dressed in ceremonial robes tainted with heretical sigils, delivering the latest reports with an air of practiced subservience.
"The Governor is furious with you," the attendant murmured. "Not only have you lost two major battles, but you also allowed the Errant-class Knight Roaring Tempest and Sir Lannis Aelann to be killed."
Venomfang said nothing, but his clawed fingers tapped against the armrest of his stolen throne.
"Lannis Aelann," the attendant continued, "was the only one in his bloodline devoted to the Lord of Wisdom. The Governor needed him for the campaign on Talon III. In a few weeks, the Governor will dispatch warships to transport reinforcements, bringing your forces up to seven hundred thousand. But after that, you'll receive no further support."
Venomfang's eyes flickered. "Wait… why is the Governor preparing for war on Talon III?"
The attendant sighed. "When the nobility fled, some defected and sought refuge on Talon III. It seems the Governor was unaware that many of his so-called allies and even enemies, had longstanding dealings with Talon III."
"And now?" Venomfang's voice turned sharp.
"Now, Talon III has fallen to the Pleasure Lords."
At that name, Venomfang's memory stirred.
Talon III had once been home to a minor, irrelevant cult known as the Pleasure Lords. At least, a century ago, that's what they were.
A hedonistic rabble, more concerned with narcotics and decadent rites than any true power. Unfocused. Weak.
But somehow, they had grown powerful enough to seize an entire world.
Until today, Venomfang had assumed Talon III was still mostly under Imperial governance.
"Alright," Venomfang turned to his attendant. "Go back to the Governor and negotiate. I don't need reinforcements. Just have his warships bombard the Hive City from orbit. Will he agree to that?"
The attendant chuckled darkly. "He'll say: 'In your dreams, you worthless failure.'"
Venomfang's eyes narrowed. A faint crackle of static hissed from beneath his collar. "Say that again, and I'll have your hide."
The attendant wisely fell silent.
Venomfang leaned back, folding his arms.
At one time, he had believed the First Legion could be eradicated quickly.
But their teleportation technology was... insufferable.
Even after all his Lord's gifts, he would need at least a decade to unravel its mysteries.
Just yesterday, a report from the District 13 assault had crossed his desk. Some of his troops claimed to have seen Cadian Shock Troopers fighting alongside the enemy.
Venomfang had dismissed it as misinformation.
Or deception.
Cadians didn't come to ghost sectors like this.
The Lord of Wisdom had flourished in the Talon Sector for a reason, this was a backwater region. There was no way Cadians were here.
And yet…
Something gnawed at him.
"I don't understand," Venomfang muttered. "Why haven't they launched an all-out attack? Do they not care about the upper hive civilians we're using as ritual fodder?"
His attendant grinned. The expression was joyless, skin stretched over sharp cheekbones like a death mask.
"Maybe they're focused on something else, like expanding their army."
Venomfang exhaled.
"Probably."
Then, after a pause, the attendant hesitated.
"…What if we lose?"
Venomfang didn't flinch.
"Then it doesn't matter. It won't affect our true plan."
The attendant pondered this before nodding.
"As we have foreseen, you will receive the Lord of Wisdom's favor and ascend as the greatest psyker in the sector."
Venomfang's muscles tensed.
Glancing around, he gestured for silence.
"Don't say that aloud."
His voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of unseen power.
"My men must remain useful… until they, too, are bled dry for my apotheosis."
....
Two Weeks Later
Qin Mo had yet to launch his offensive.
Instead, he prepared for the future's all-consuming war.
Every division of his forces underwent transformation.
All infantry units received extensively upgraded weaponry.
Lasguns were heavily modified for amplified power output and increased rate of fire. Each weapon could now punch through ceramite at close range, a feat few standard-issue weapons could boast.
Standard Praetorian Pattern Power Armor had been reforged with superior defensive plating: a triple-layered composite of plasteel mesh, reactive gel substrate, and ablative ceramics. The resulting suit resembled the armored hull of a light tank more than conventional personal protection.
The Leman Russ tanks were no longer bound to the earth. Retrofitted with anti-gravity propulsion systems, their traditional treads had been replaced with sleek hover chassis. The once-thunderous engines now purred like stalking predators, gliding above the ground, silent as wraiths, capable of traversing any terrain without resistance.
Turrets were fitted with advanced missile pods, amplifying their destructive potential to siege-level firepower, capable of laying waste to entrenched fortifications or leveling city blocks.
And then… there were the Thunderborns.
Qin Mo's five personal bodyguards had not simply been upgraded.
They had been remade.
Not their weapons. Not their armor.
Their very bodies.
....
The True Thunderborns
They were no longer merely elite warriors.
They were something else entirely.
They had transcended humanity itself.
Their bodies had been reforged in a crucible of science and steel. Each enhancement had transformed them from mortal soldiers into post-human weapons, calibrated for warfare on a scale beyond human comprehension.
The transformation was not random, nor inspired by Chaos or mutation. It was deliberate, an orchestrated fusion of biology and technology, combining genetic manipulation with innovations unknown to even the most radical Tech-Priests.
The transformation followed a rigorous progression, built on six key pillars:
1. Genetic Augmentation
Their genetic code, rewritten strand by strand, had become the foundation of their rebirth, reprogrammed to accept each modification as if they were natural extensions of their physiology.
They possessed hyper-dense bone structures, reinforced with reactive ceramic plating, a smart material that hardened instantly under impact, capable of withstanding the force of anti-tank rounds that would obliterate ordinary superhuman soldiers.
Their musculature had been restructured and layered with synthetic myofibers, multiplying their raw strength beyond anything baseline humans or even Space Marines could match.
Their neural systems had been fortified against both physical and psychic trauma. Shock-resistant membranes encased their brains, protecting them from concussive force, while synaptic buffers neutralized psionic attacks at the point of contact.
These enhancements ensured that even without the aid of their power armor, they could wear it effortlessly and fight with full mobility, as if it were a second skin.
2. Cognitive Enhancements
Neural implants were surgically embedded into their brains, allowing them to interface directly with armor, weapons, and battlefield networks. Manual controls and vocal commands became obsolete, a single thought now controlled entire combat systems.
Bio-processors woven into their cerebral cortex granted omnidirectional awareness, capable of analyzing thousands of data points in real-time.
They could see, predict, and react before their enemies even moved.
One of the most startling upgrades was the "split-brain rest" system. This innovation allowed one hemisphere of the brain to rest while the other remained active, meaning that even during battle, half their mind could recuperate while the other half continued fighting.
In theory, they could now fight indefinitely without rest or sleep.
3. Biomechanical Reinforcement
Their throat and jawbones replaced with reinforced alloy structures, rendering them impervious to decapitation or choking injuries.
Inside their bodies, self-contained nanite reservoirs stood ready to deploy repair swarms when wounded, knitting flesh and steel alike.
These microscopic machines could mend ruptured arteries and shattered armor alike in moments, transforming mortal wounds into mere inconveniences.
Their eyes were no longer organic. They had been replaced with cybernetic optics connected to a battlefield database capable of instant facial recognition, thermal imaging, auto-targeting, and predictive tracking.
They could see through walls, track a target's heartbeat, and anticipate an enemy's next move before it happened.
4. Cybernetic Limbs & Power Core
Their limbs and spine had not been spared. A reinforced metallic skeletal framework allowed them to withstand impacts strong enough to destroy light vehicles.
Three internal fusion cores pulsed within each Thunderborn's torso, encased in shielding and redundancy systems. These miniature reactors provided a constant, self-renewing energy source. As long as one reactor remained intact, a Thunderborn could not die.
Servo-assisted joints compensated for their increased mass, allowing full-speed mobility even without armor.
5. Spinal Reinforcement
Their spines were not simply augmented; they were entirely replaced with a load-bearing exoskeletal structure fused to their nervous system. They could now carry the weight of a battle tank or leap from high-altitude drops without injury.
Their nervous systems had been rewired and accelerated for maximum efficiency, granting them reaction speeds that bordered on precognition.
6. Hyper-Perception Mode
And then came the true masterpiece of their design.
When engaged, their reaction speed accelerated to the edge of possibility. Time itself seemed to slow, seconds became eternities. Enemy movements appeared sluggish, blades and bullets could be followed by eye.
Even the fastest Aeldari warriors, renowned for their supernatural agility and speed, appeared clumsy and delayed.
But the ability had limits.
The Hyper-Perception Mode could only be sustained for ten seconds.
A second activation within an hour risked catastrophic neural backlash: synaptic seizures, cerebral hemorrhage, and potentially irreversible damage to their enhanced brains.
....
Despite their extensive modifications, they did not appear grotesque.
A layer of synth-skin, grown in nutrient vats, covered their cybernetic enhancements, allowing them to retain a human appearance.
But beneath that skin, they were far beyond human.
They were not mutants.
They were not abominations of the Warp.
These enhancements were purely technological.
There was no sorcery involved.
No risk of mutation or corruption.
And one day, when Qin Mo's anti-Warp countermeasures were perfected…
The Thunderborns would become immune to the taint of Chaos itself.
Though they still bore the title Thunderborns, the warriors who now stood at Qin Mo's side were far beyond what they had once been, each of them a hundredfold improvement over their former selves, both in might and mind.
And when the final war came…
They would be unstoppable.