Antopi quickly stabilized after its initial chaos. The miracle of seeing three moons pulled into the planet's orbit in an instant made all protests from the people vanish in a heartbeat. Not only was an external power able to move three satellites without disturbing Antopi's gravity field, but its very existence was enough to strike fear into the gods themselves.
To defy such a presence was either insanity or sleepwalking.
All priests of the Imperial Church who had been imprisoned by the rebels were released.
These clergy, deeply devout, immediately began to proclaim the miracle widely:
It was an act of the Holy Emperor's messenger, performed to enlighten the ignorant masses.
Even amid rebellion, mercy and forgiveness were granted.
Soon, the name of the Nameless spread throughout the planet, echoing in every corner. Artisans worked through the night to carve sacred statues; images of the shape-shifting mage, the Masque of Slaanesh in a purple skirt with white hair, and the plump boy Life Spirit were all added to complement Datch, blessed by the faith.
The finished statues were moved into the grand cathedral overnight, given an honored place, second only to the Emperor himself.
Without the Church's enduring authority, the Emperor's position might not be secure.
No one knew if the Emperor was truly strong, or even what they felt about him.
But the Nameless One had treated the very satellites like marbles—surely this was a true god.
Pilgrims converged on the city; chants filled the air.
The fanatic devotion to the Nameless reached heights that bordered on terrifying.
Political change followed: Messinius began selecting new officials to replace parliamentarians like Kinshir.
Everything seemed to go smoothly—until Datch donned his detective's costume, transforming into the legendary Datch Holmes.
On the surface, this rebellion had been launched by Kinshir and company to resist the Empire's tyranny.
But beneath it all, sinister traitors and malcontents were always at work, amplifying countless contradictions, inciting public discontent, and using these methods to exhaust the Empire's resources and undermine Primarch-level reforms.
Such treacherous seeds could not be left to sprout.
They had to be rooted out and investigated thoroughly.
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Datch pushed up his monocle with a finger, striking a cool pose.
The imperial heroes who witnessed this all wore expressions of utter disbelief.
Truthfully, it was a blessing the Nameless seldom spoke.
Whenever he did, his words were so cringe-worthy you'd want to dig your toes through a three-bedroom apartment.
Ignoring their looks, Datch went off to hunt the lurking Chaos traitors.
Thanks to his detective disguise's remarkable abilities, he quickly uncovered enemy agents hidden among the bureaucracy, factory management, and merchant guilds.
Some had been pawns of Word Bearers from the start.
Others, ground down by years of despair and corruption, had finally succumbed to Chaos's whispers.
Upon finding these people, Datch opened the Room of Requirement and tossed the captured enemy agents inside.
The Iron Fist of Caliban would teach just what it cost to betray the Empire.
A few hours later, Mordachi came to give Datch an interrogation report.
"That rotten scum confessed—they're a Fallen Angel and a double agent for the Word Bearers."
"These cursed traitors, like maggots in the gutter, gnaw at the Empire's foundations."
Datch automatically excluded any mention of Fallen Angels, checking the testimony on a data panel.
The confessions detailed contact networks, funding flows, and methods of incitement.
Worse, they revealed their superiors.
As Guilliman had feared, the Antopi uprising was not simply social unrest.
This was an organized, planned act of infiltration and subversion by Chaos.
At the apex of the Word Bearers' schemes stood the villainous Kor Phaeron, lurking like a venomous spider in the shadows.
Their webway was vast, meant to weaken and divide the Empire from within.
The Antopi rebellion was just one link in a much larger chain—more plots and machinations waited beyond.
"It's no surprise you're a bad seed. What's sad is you had to meet me," Datch murmured as he scrolled.
"Once the Star Path project is complete, you're finished."
Datch's eye was caught by the last paragraph of the confession.
Under torture, several traitors had revealed crucial intelligence: Kor Phaeron and Abaddon were desperately seeking a child.
According to their confessions, several Chaos seers had glimpsed a vision: out among the stars, a newborn radiated a soft golden light, and beside it appeared the Radiant Throne, an infinite blaze.
Kor Phaeron suspected this was some profound omen—possibly hinting at the Emperor's eventual return.
The child—the Golden Baby—would be the vessel of the Emperor's will and power, a continuation of his bloodline.
"Shhh—!!"
Datch, stunned, gasped, eyes wide.
A child wrapped in golden light—the Golden Baby.
It could only mean: the Emperor had a bastard child.
No wonder Primarch Mother Erda had quarreled with the Emperor and abandoned all twenty scions:
It wasn't just ideological conflict; apparently, the Emperor betrayed a wife for a new lover.
[]
Erda: Why did you betray me? Didn't you promise we'd marry after you created the Primarchs and finished the Great Crusade?
Emperor: I've been improving, but you, Erda, are still stuck at Primarch level. You can't stop me from seeking someone better, can you? Don't be so selfish. If you love me, wish me happiness.
Erda: You bastard—one day you'll regret this.
[]
Thus, the twenty Primarchs were abandoned, cast into the Warp.
With a family like this, is it any wonder everyone is quirky and half traumatized?
Problems that start from home are the deepest wounds.
Some, like Magnus and Lorgar, were never able to escape…
Betrayed by four blond men from the Warp, the Emperor turned them mercilessly into reflections of himself.
Left alone on the Golden Throne, a cuckolded father weeps in silence.
Datch's mind played out the whole dysfunctional drama:
It was genuinely spectacular.
He imagined making a three-part epic film about this family for touring the galaxy and the Warp.
…
The Emperor saw all this and twitched the corner of his mouth.
Family, is there anyone who understands the helplessness when an eternal virgin is wrongly condemned as a scumbag?
…
Datch shook his head to clear his mind.
Highlight keywords: Golden Baby, Radiant Throne.
I'll investigate the truth of this later!
If there's proof that Old Yellow really is a cheating human, a movie adaptation is sure to boost ratings.
Just as Datch returned the data panel to the Dark Angel, a mission-completed chime sounded in his heart.
At the edge of his vision, a faint golden task-complete notification floated up elegantly:
[Mission Complete! You have aided the re-conquest of Antopi through non-military means, achieving zero civilian casualties in all major conflict zones.]
[Quest rewards: EXP +1200, Points +1200, Fame +200, 1x Lich King Full Skin Set.]
"Got a new skin!"
Feeling pleased, Datch equipped it instantly. Light and shadow swirled around him.
The flamboyant paint of his previous armor was covered in a flash, replaced by a chilling deathly aura.
He now wore deep blue-black plate armor, trimmed with pale bone, eerie blue runes glittering at the edges.
Shoulder plates loomed, shaped like ogre's heads; a tattered but majestic cloak hung behind him, rippling in the windless chamber.
The jester's grotesque helmet shifted, becoming a symbol of dominion.
Cold blue soul-flames danced in his eyes.
Datch now produced a nondescript power sword—somewhere, probably, he'd just picked it up.
The moment he gripped it, it transformed into Frostmourne.
When he donned the kingly Lich armor, the light grew dim.
The temperature dropped; a thin white frost appeared on the ground.
The Changeling and the Masque of Slaanesh watched Datch's transformation, pupils widening.
How was it this man's appearance changed yet again—now with an aura of death?
"My child, when you were born, the woods of Lordaeron whispered your name…"
"I am proud to watch you grow each day, a living emblem of justice."
"Never forget, we have always ruled this realm with wisdom and might."
"And I believe you'll use your power wisely."
"But true victory, my child, is to stir the fighting spirit within the people's hearts."
"I tell you this because I sense the end of my own life, and you must soon be king."
Datch raised his blade, reciting classic Warcraft lines.
"Hmm, gives off quite the vibe," someone muttered.
"It won't be long before he replaces the Silent King and becomes the ruler of the dead by the billion," another whispered.
Mission complete, Datch opened his minimap, seeking the next objective.
…
At that time, Guilliman was assembling the First and Third Expeditionary Fleets for the anomalous Nephilim region to face off against the Necrons.
Elsewhere, on the dark side of the Empire, Sanguinius was organizing a counteroffensive to save worlds from destruction by xenos and Chaos.
The situation in the Nachmund Sector was more controlled after rebellious worlds like Darog had been suppressed, yet for some reason, Vigilus kept attracting Orks, tricksters, and Chaos, fueling endless factional war.
They aimed to topple the fortress world and block the Empire's path to the dark regions.
The Second Expeditionary Fleet was heading for the ruins of the Cadian Gate. Planets along the route were being fortified to replace strongholds lost after Cadia's fall.
A vast, light-year-spanning defense network meant that no world or fleet could easily be isolated.
The Great Rift's opening saw a surge in Imperial psykers. The Black Ship workload skyrocketed.
Though the Golden Throne and the Astronomican no longer needed so many psykers, there were still Navigators and army replacements to be had.
Wiping out local psykers would stabilize the region further.
Thus, even as Terra's need for raw psykers shrank, the Black Ships' scale grew.
However, the enemy also targeted the Black Ships, raiding psykers en route.
On the far side of the galaxy, Ork general Bonecrusher was gathering an unprecedented WAAAGH of Orks for a massive crusade.
The Tyranid Hive Fleet threat loomed, tentacles creeping deeper, threatening to devour all.
In summary: the entire galaxy remained in chaos, warfare intensifying everywhere.
Datch found the flickering icon for a temporary mission location on his minimap.
"Ohoho… something unexpected," he remarked.
"Alright, time to finish this one first."
Datch set coordinates for the teleport cannon.
By the time Messinius and the other imperial heroes noticed, he'd already stepped through a portal of light and vanished.
…
He teleported near the quest NPC.
Datch was greeted by the roar of slug guns, the clang of powered weapons, and the furious shouts of both sides.
He quickly realized he was inside a warship. Judging by the decorations and tight, segmented spaces, it looked like a combat barge or large troop transport's sealed compartment.
But this was no sanctuary—here, it was a bloody battlefield.
Metal floors were riddled with bullet holes, scorch marks, and slick with blood. Astartes and human soldiers alike lay twisted and dead in hideous poses.
The reek of ozone, blood, and burning insulation filled the air.
"We are the holy children of Terra, created by the Emperor Himself! But you…"
"You are a twisted product from Belisarius Cawl's heretical workshop, a mutant abomination!"
Looking toward the voice, Datch saw two Imperial factions fighting.
On one side, a small but well-organized group of Primaris Space Marines, led by forbidding, heavily-armored warriors, had fortified themselves.
The assault was led by Astartes in black-and-white power armor, banners marked by the Imperial cross and skull.
These Black Templars, established by Sigismund—Champion of the Emperor and Sword Saint next only to the Primarchs—clearly had the numbers and pressed their attack with relentless, zealous fury.
One priest, wielding a massive chainsword, bones and scrolls decorating his helm, stood at the rear, shouting above the gunfire, urging his warrior-brethren to slaughter these corrupt creations.
"We were created on the orders of the Regent Roboute Guilliman, to save the Empire!"
"We are not your enemy!" a Primaris Space Marine shouted back, firing a shotgun to keep the Black Templars at bay.
"The Regent?" scoffed the priest, voice thick with irony and rage.
"A shameful heretic! Mark my words, he'll end up, like his corrupted brother Horus, seduced by power and the throne. We must prevent this evil, preserve the Emperor's rule!"
"This is the Emperor's will," said a Guard in a halberd-armed squad, voice chilling with steel and authority, deflecting a killing blow and slicing deep into a Templar's shoulder.
"You betray the Emperor's true ideals!" shouted the priest.
"Blood must be repaid for this blasphemy!"
As the battle reached a fevered pitch, Datch and his companions appeared in a flash, halting the fight.
Weapons were still aimed, but all eyes turned in confusion and disbelief toward the new, grim figures.
Datch found himself baffled by the scene.
Black Templar fanatics attacking Imperial Guard?
Everyone knew the Black Templars were extreme, but this was overboard.
A Guard cautiously asked after a pause:
"Lord Nameless?"
Datch triggered the Guard's info panel.
[Torchbearer Onos: tasked with escorting the precious gene-seed to Primaris Space Marine chapters, ensuring Terra's will is enacted.]
Onos's face lit up with delight—this was truly the Nameless!
With reinforcements present, a few Primaris Marines cheered:
"Nameless, help us!"
"These Black Templar brothers have gone rabid!"
"They defied Terra's command, killed Marshal Angwen, and are even attacking Guards and us!" said a Primaris warrior.
Onos added in a low voice:
"The situation is dire, sir. Their fanaticism has blinded reason—we need your help."
No sooner had Onos finished than a mission prompt materialized before Datch's eyes:
[Mission: Assist Torchbearer Onos in suppressing the fanatical Black Templars.]
Chapter Priest Mortian leads the Black Templars in believing the Primaris are impure abominations. He claims Cawl and Guilliman, by tampering with the Emperor's masterpiece, have harbored false intentions and intend to seize the Golden Throne.
Help Onos resolve this conflict so the Black Templars' chapter can finish the Primaris integration.
[Quest rewards: EXP +1000, Points +1000, Fame +200, Frozen Dragon Mount x1]
At the same time, Mortian, black sanctuary priest, eyed Datch warily—the aura of death and frost about his armor, the massive sword and inhuman followers behind him.
"Yet another heretic, a traitor wearing cursed armor!" Mortian bellowed.
"The Emperor's judgment will fall upon you all—for His sake, purge these heretics!!"
"I am an Imperial Inquisitor. Stand down at once," Datch declared, holding up the Inquisitor's seal, symbol of the Empire's law.
He hoped this would calm things down and permit negotiation.
But Mortian spared barely a glance at the seal, if anything growing more zealous:
"Another false relic—just another fraudster! Kill him!"
Datch was stunned—not even the Inquisitor's seal would stop them?
His mind spun:
He had run into Black Templars, Champions, and Grand Marshals before—
They were fanatical, yes, but never to the point of shooting at allies!
The priest in front was entirely obsessed—reason was useless.
"Well, so much for arguing with you, then," Datch sighed, putting the seal away.
So much for peaceful resolution; time to get unorthodox.
Datch produced a magical staff he'd never used: the Sheep Transformation Wand.
Targeting Mortian and a handful of elite Black Templars, he activated it.
A mysterious golden halo flashed—
The next instant, formidable priest Mortian and four Black Templar warriors
were instantly shrunk and transformed into fluffy, bewildered white sheep—
standing in shock amid bullet holes and bloodstains.
"Baa?"
"Baa?"
The battlefield, moments ago roaring with fury, fell suddenly silent—
Except for the baaing of a few confused sheep.
The Black Templar survivors stared, jaws dropping, at their shepherdized brethren.
"Priest and four battle-brothers turned into sheep?"
"What heretical sorcery is this!"
"Emperor, unleash your might and save us!"