Empyrean, the Impossible Fortress within the Crystal Labyrinth, stood silent.
"Nareth has acquired the Blackstone Fortress..."
A face sprouting from Tzeentch's right arm murmured in a low tone: "Nareth has acquired the Blackstone Fortress..."
"Change..."
As the face on His right arm burst, a face on His waist intoned: "Change..."
His eyes flickered in and out of existence. Threads of fate quivered.
"Horus's failure... the chance to submit... all within the grasp..."
A face on Tzeentch's left leg spoke with pleasure: "Horus's failure... the chance to submit... all within the grasp..."
"Blackstone Fortress... Segmentum Pacificus..."
The Fate Weaver's hands turned. A face on His back opened wide: "Blackstone Fortress... Segmentum Pacificus..."
.....
960.M30.
Ultramar Segmentum, Macragge.
Within the full-room view of the Inner Court overlooking Macragge City, a heavy marble table was spread with papers and datapads.
Golden sunlight streamed through the narrow windows, illuminating an ancient cogitator.
The cold Gestalt cogitator was not brought here by the Terran Expedition fleet; it was the legacy of Konnor, Guilliman's adoptive father.
An ancient relic of the Dark Age of Technology.
Konnor, the great, goodly warrior-king, had once governed Macragge with its aid.
By day, Konnor held court in the High Council.
By night, the Inner Court was his seat of power.
Every twenty-five seconds, the ancient relic emitted a faint, strange, synthesized chime.
Dee-dee-dee-dee...
Guilliman sat upright, examining the information on the cold Gestalt cogitator.
The message was from Marius Gage.
[Lord Guilliman, I regret to inform you that I have failed to complete the task you assigned me.]
[After diligent investigation, I have been unable to find a suitable world to serve as the northern hub of the Five Hundred Worlds.]
[Espandor lacks sufficient potential. Sotha is too remote...]
Without needing to consult a star chart, Guilliman's superhuman mind automatically visualized his realm.
Within it, there were two highly suitable locations: Ganfall and Calth.
But both of those worlds had long been claimed by his brother, Nareth.
Dee-dee-dee-dee...
The cold Gestalt cogitator chimed again.
Guilliman did not check the new message. His gaze was fixed on the past.
When he was twelve years old, he had first entered this room, watching Konnor sit at the desk, laboring.
Even then, he had been as tall as his adoptive father, and more robust.
Later, his biological father had come, making him understand his crucial role as a Primarch in the grand strategy of the human race.
Both his adoptive father and his biological father had emphasized one important principle: a backup plan.
Konnor had taught him, "No matter how perfect the plan, it needs a contingency."
Guilliman knew his biological father held the same view: Do not cling to perfection, for it is fleeting; Always have a second-best option; ...
Dee-dee-dee-dee...
Guilliman leaned down, tapping the cancel button, silencing the chime.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Come in."
Guilliman looked up as an elderly woman entered. His adoptive mother, the current Master of the Household, Tarasha Euten.
Her tall, slender frame was wrapped in a white robe.
Guilliman rose to greet her. "Mam."
His black robe and Tarasha's white robe were of the same style worn by the squabbling councilors and consuls in the High Council.
"Please, sit."
Guilliman waited until Tarasha had leaned her cane against the chair and settled into the seat, which was too large for her, before sitting down behind the desk.
In over a century of governing the Inner Court, Guilliman had made one change: replacing the desk and four chairs with custom-made Primarch-sized versions.
Tarasha gazed at Guilliman. "Regarding the hub of your northern realm, have you made a decision?"
Guilliman nodded. "Yes, mam."
"The agri-world of Tarentus."
Tarasha's brow furrowed slightly. Roboute's decision was somewhat surprising.
She had expected him to choose an industrial world as the regional hub and a Tetrarch's seat.
Tarasha's gaze was deep. "Who will you appoint as Tetrarch of the North?"
"Vosotho."
Gren Vosotho, the Legion Master when the 13th Legion was still known as the "War-Born."
Now the Chapter Master of the 1st Chapter.
But he remained far from the court of Macragge.
Another unexpected choice.
Guilliman used his surname, rather than the more familiar given name, indicating a certain distance.
Tarasha stared at Roboute, pondering why he would grant a Tetrarch position to a son with whom he felt so distant.
"He's Terran-born..."
Before she could finish, Guilliman understood her meaning.
"That's not the only reason."
"He is also highly regarded by Nareth."
Tarasha understood. Vosotho sent by Roboute to participate in the Second Rangdan War, had earned Nareth's esteem.
As Tetrarch of the North, he could leverage his good relationship with the Shadows of Order and the worlds of Ganfall and Calth to develop the northern sector.
"The best choice." Tarasha gripped her cane and spoke approvingly.
...
Kingdom of Disorder, Fourth Layer Space.
Deep within the black mist, Nareth sat high upon his throne, listening to Gren's report.
"My Lord, my father has appointed me as one of the Four Tetrarchs of Ultramar. Centered on Tarentus, I will oversee the Northern Realm..."
Nareth nodded with a smile. 'Guilliman, you're quite capable. After I swindled so many worlds from you, you still managed to establish the Five Hundred Worlds.'
'The Four Tetrarchs... a system with only about fifty years left.'
Nareth knew that after the Heresy, Guilliman, learning from the rebellion, believed that no one should command such large numbers of Astartes.
He abolished the system of the Four Tetrarchs.
It was only ten thousand years later, after he had been resurrected and found the Imperium facing the many threats of Chaos and xenos, that Guilliman realized the Codex Chapters were insufficient and reinstated the Tetrarch system.
'Though Gren's appointment as Tetrarch isn't particularly significant.'
'But Tarentus... that is a nice find.'
Calth's agricultural output only supports itself and its surrounding systems.
Ganfall, which Guilliman would have named after his adoptive father Konnor, and the Forge World of Gantz, influenced by him, rely on supplies from worlds like Rynn and Talassar.
Tarentus offers shorter Warp routes and more stable routes to worlds like Ganfall and Gantz.
After Gren takes control of Tarentus, the crisis response capabilities of Ganfall , Gantz, and other worlds will be significantly enhanced.
'And...' Nareth's mind flashed with a certain figure.
One of Guilliman's exceptional sons.
As a child, his spirit was utterly fearless.
His Warp resistance was off the charts. He twice crushed Warp energy sources with his bare hands.
'The chosen of both Khorne and the Emperor... hmm... not exactly this one...'
'Titus. The Titus.'
'His homeworld is the agri-world of Tarentus.'
'Guilliman, my thanks to you!'
'First, I swindled you out of your 2nd Company Captain, the indomitable Cato Sicarius. But that wasn't enough for you, so you decided to send me Titus as well, did you?'
'Rest assured, I will treat him well.'
After silently thanking Guilliman for his generosity, Nareth turned his hand over. A vial of golden liquid appeared in his palm.
"Drink this. It will help you control Tarentus."
Moments later, the newly elevated Sequence 6 "Judge" knelt on one knee.
"My Lord, I thank You for this gift."
"I shall diligently manage Tarentus, ensuring it progresses alongside Ganfall and Calth."
Nareth returned Gren to the real world, then went back to the Shadow's Sovereignty.
He immediately proceeded to the Astropathic Sanctum to attend the war council convened by the Emperor.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu