The Primarchs of the Second Imperium were fully arrayed, and on the board, Caleb observed that the former traitor Primarchs were making their own moves.
After freeing themselves from the Chaos Gods' control, Angron and Perturabo were in far better mental health.
Especially with a psychologist now constantly by Perturabo's side, his methods of lashing out at his subordinates had changed.
"Dantioch!"
"You bastard, are you sure you finished the Iron Citadel wall I assigned to you?"
"It only took you a little over a decade to complete. Speak—what on earth did you do!"
Dantioch knelt on one knee before his Primarch.
Even while kneeling, Dantioch was still slightly taller than Perturabo, yet he did not believe for a second that he could beat the little loli before him!
"Heh..."
Looking at his Primarch's tiny, floating feet, Dantioch swallowed hard and laughed awkwardly.
"My Primarch, here's what happened: I incorporated that squad of Imperial Fists!"
"With those few hundred Imperial Fists joining us, all my construction projects progressed much faster!"
"Although Rogal Dorn's sons are as stubborn as rocks, once they accept a task, they execute it with absolute precision!"
The moment those words left his mouth, the Iron Warrior standing beside Dantioch broke out in a cold sweat.
Dammit!
Is Dantioch insane?
Our mother's relationship with Rogal Dorn was already terrible. Praising his rival's sons right to her face—is he asking for punishment?
As expected, Perturabo's gaze turned icy.
Perturabo wanted nothing more than to execute him on the spot. Yet no matter how twisted he was, he remained a man of principle.
He would not execute a commander who had achieved success, especially when no error had been made.
Originally, Perturabo had intended to assign Dantioch an impossible task to punish him—and along the way, order a decimation for any Imperial Fists who failed to deliver.
Unfortunately, Dantioch had completed it—and impeccably so!
The Iron Citadel defense line had been flawlessly constructed, perfectly securing the eastern flank of the Sparta 300 worlds.
The remaining three Grand Company Captains had also completed their defense lines in the other sectors.
Now, they could engage the Orks in grueling battles along the fortifications.
While Perturabo was still trying to devise a way to discipline his loyal child, Angron—who had been providing psychological counseling to his own sons—appeared.
Angron had just counseled 666 loyal legionnaires; there was no longer a single marine in his legion suffering from psychological issues.
"Yo!"
"Angered by that kid again?"
"Perturabo, you don't always have to say the opposite of what you mean. Speak plainly—it isn't that complicated!"
Angron wore revealing Berserker light armor; his cropped top exposed his belly button.
Yet no one should underestimate Angron's combat prowess because of it—this armor, despite its lack of coverage, possessed higher defensive strength than his original suit!
Furthermore, the back of the armor featured dark demon wings. Although called demon wings, they shared no connection to the Four Chaos Gods.
This armor granted Angron formidable defense and the ability to fly.
As long as he counseled enough of his children and the unyielding spirit of the Liberator remained unquenched, he could fly indefinitely.
He owed this armor—with its lack of fabric, high defense, and divine power—to the mysterious Warp entity named Alice.
Angron had supplied Alice with several mini-games from the Dark Age of Technology.
In return, Alice had gifted him a hoard of valuable items.
This halo-equipped armor was one of them.
Equipped with this provocative Berserker Power Armor, Angron felt confident he could defeat Sanguinius as he once was.
Fortunately, Angron did not yet know Sanguinius had been resurrected; otherwise, given his current temperament, he would have challenged him to a duel immediately.
"Why are you dressed in that ridiculous outfit?"
"You've completely embraced being a girl, haven't you?"
Perturabo expressed utter disdain for the shameless attire.
Though his own situation was hardly better, he could at least accept a Lolita outfit adorned with heavy armor plates.
Perturabo only said this because he genuinely did not want Angron falling into Slaanesh's grasp.
After all, in his memory, Fulgrim was also a deeply unstable individual.
"Haha! Let's not talk about me! You're throwing a tantrum at your own kid again. You're clearly happy inside, yet you still go out of your way to trouble him. Haven't you any shame?"
"Tell you what—how about you lend this kid to me?"
"I have plenty of construction projects lined up for him anyway. It would be a waste not to have him pouring concrete over at my place!"
"Get out!"
The moment he heard that shameless bastard ask to borrow his son, Perturabo refused a million times over in his heart!
Truth be told, Perturabo found his son immensely capable.
Yet he disliked exploiting his children in such a manner; he truly had no desire to become like that cursed Emperor.
The more he thought about it, the deeper his resentment grew—twisting into a frustrating state where he had nowhere to vent his anger.
That single "Get out!" seemed to release all the pent-up rage in his chest.
Angron seemed to possess that unique ability: even when provoking him on purpose, it always cleared his anger afterward.
"Lending him to you is out of the question!"
"Besides, I was only annoyed about the Imperial Fists matter!"
"I don't want to hear another word praising Rogal Dorn's offspring!"
"I don't know what that guy's brain is made of—every time I talk to that fool, it feels like talking to a brick wall!"
At the mention of Rogal Dorn, Perturabo grew furious once more!
That man was like a stubborn stone, completely incapable of understanding basic communication.
When Perturabo suggested going east, Dorn insisted on going west; when Perturabo tried to reason with logic, Dorn insisted on bringing up emotions.
Once, Perturabo spent immense effort crafting a sculpture representing the Emperor's Fist for Rogal Dorn.
Dorn immediately punched the sculpture, smashing it into a heap of scrap metal, claiming it looked better that way!
Perturabo was so infuriated he could barely speak, only for Dorn to thank him right afterward—a response practically begging for a beating!
Recalling this made Perturabo's breathing grow heavy.
Even the floating heavy artillery barrels behind him began targeting Dantioch.
"Calm down, Perturabo!"
"I know Rogal Dorn is a stubborn stone and his ungrateful behavior made you angry, but don't take it out on your kid!"
"He doesn't know any of that, so why be angry with him?"
"Fair enough!" Angron was truly the only one who could reason with Perturabo.
Since their minds were linked, a simple exchange of thought was enough to calm him down.
With Angron around, Perturabo was far less stubborn than before.
Though occasional outbursts still caused minor trouble.
"Go on then, do whatever it is you like doing!"
"Dantioch, remember this forever: never trust those Imperial Fists!"
"They are like stubborn rocks, eternally loyal to the Imperium—and the path we walk is no longer the same as theirs!"
"Is it really different?"
Dantioch lowered his head, rubbing his forehead as he asked: "If both paths aim to protect the people, how are they different?"
"The fortresses built by the Imperial Fists and our Iron Warriors serve the same purpose: protecting the people. Is that not enough?"
With Angron pacifying him, Perturabo's mental state had improved significantly.
Had Angron not been there to soothe him, Perturabo would likely have kicked this foolish son out.
Now, calmer, Perturabo applied his military genius toward emotional intelligence instead.
"Follow me!"
Perturabo knew words alone could not explain it clearly; he had to let his child see everything he had accomplished!
Currently, he directed all his energy toward renovating Hive Worlds.
On one of his relic worlds, he had discovered a unique, incomplete STC construction template.
Though damaged, a single glance had left Perturabo utterly spellbound!
It was an STC template titled the Ecumenopolis Project!
Unlike the Forge Worlds of Mars, this was a true, complete utopian world design!
This technology could transform an entire planet into a world of pure steel.
At the same time, the planet could fulfill every residential need.
Whether food, entertainment, fire safety, medical care, or sanitation, a solution existed within the Ecumenopolis—because it was fundamentally a perfect human ecosystem.
Naturally, Perturabo possessed only a partial STC template; he was currently researching it and lacked the capability to fully restore it.
Volvia—one of Perturabo's experimental construction planets.
It was also the closest approximation to an Ecumenopolis.
It had once been a massive Hive World where the vast majority struggled on the brink of survival.
However, when World Eaters revolutionaries arrived, the lower classes successfully overthrew the planetary elites and nobility.
Countless resources formerly held by nobles and Imperial institutions were seized.
Vast quantities of tithe materials were redirected toward planetary construction.
Many joined the World Eaters forces and the Liberator Corps—yet these warriors had no idea how to rebuild their homeland.
They faced the challenge of rescuing their compatriots from suffering.
Lacking construction knowledge, they fell into an endless drain of resource consumption.
The planet was on the verge of collapsing back into its former state under the law of the jungle.
Fortunately, Perturabo arrived.
In the original timeline, the arrival of the Iron Warriors would have been a disaster.
Now, however, the Iron Warriors were different.
For Perturabo, this marked the beginning of realizing his dream: building a true utopia and completely transforming a Hive World of hundreds of billions.
Former civilian hovels were demolished, and construction corps formed by Iron Warriors Grand Companies began overhauling the planet's infrastructure.
First, orbital cannons cleared away the chaotic, ruined environments!
Then, across those cleared expanses, massive arrays of buildings and production facilities were erected.
Next came expanding living quarters for the populace, establishing individual survival units.
Every support unit guaranteed basic air, water, food supply, and emergency medical stores.
Even for the disabled, cybernetic reconstruction services were available to make them productive members of society.
Walking down wide, pristine streets built for anti-gravity vehicles, even Angron—who had once conquered this world—felt a sense of unreality.
Perturabo had taken over planetary administration just a few decades ago.
Even if the Adeptus Mechanicus had been tasked with building this world, they could never have produced infrastructure like this.
"Lady Primarch, is this your creation?"
"Astonishing! I had no idea you possessed such talent!"
"You are not merely a Grand Marshal of siege craft—you are a genius city builder!"
"I never imagined a Hive World could be built like this!"
"There isn't a trace of the usual underhive environment—it's truly incredible!"
Dantioch did not hold back his praise. Experiencing this firsthand made him feel his mother could truly rival Guilliman.
If hundreds of planets were constructed into such beauty, Dantioch believed the 300 worlds governed by his mother would rival the 500 Worlds of Ultramar!
In certain aspects—such as fortress engineering and Hive City design—they would even lead!
"Hive World?"
Loli Perturabo proudly placed her hands on her hips, a rare flash of pride crossing her face.
"Don't compare the cities I build to that garbage!"
"Hive Cities were originally mere human settlements during the Dark Age of Technology—they were never true utopias!"
"According to the original designer's intent, Hive Cities were meant to be temporary site shacks for early utopian construction!"
"I transformed this city precisely because I recovered a partial Ecumenopolis STC template."
"Those temporary shacks were never meant to sustain populations in the hundreds of billions—the lower levels of a traditional Hive City were never intended for human habitation!"
"Oh!"
Angron was equally surprised; he had assumed Hive Cities were proof of humanity's brutality during the Dark Age of Technology.
He had never expected the truth to be this.
Looking at the dense transportation networks, diverse ecological units, and lively streets, he watched humans and abhumans living contented lives.
Sitting on the towering observation platform overlooking it all, Angron was fully convinced of Perturabo's vision.
However—most of the population on this planet were indentured laborers. Under Perturabo's near-obsessive construction taxes, avoiding indentured servitude was nearly impossible.
Still, Perturabo's dedication to building this city was undeniable. The planet could comfortably house far more than its current hundred billion inhabitants—another hundred billion would pose no issue.
At the same time, Angron uncovered a few of Perturabo's secrets regarding the Emperor and Panacea technology.
"Tsk, tsk..." Angron chuckled. "Perturabo, you never mentioned this to me!"
"Regarding the Panacea and genetic template technologies?"
"You cried and begged Father to give you those tech specs, didn't you?"
"And some suggestions on improving the infrastructure came from Father too, right?"
"AAAAHHH!" Perturabo suddenly forgot Angron could read minds.
The moment those proud thoughts crossed his mind, Angron picked up on every single detail.
Now he was completely disgraced in front of his child.
His past behavior sounded exactly like a child begging their parents to buy them building blocks!
[Caleb: It's fine—as long as you two are happy, really!]
[Perturabo: Please, don't let Angron say another word!]
[Dantioch is right beside us! I'll be a laughingstock for the rest of my life!]
Perturabo's massive artillery barrels turned red-hot, nearly triggering an accidental discharge.
Fortunately, Angron reacted quickly enough; otherwise, that single shot would have destroyed several city sectors.
[Dantioch: Should I leave now?]
[Mother seems to be losing her mind; I shouldn't stay here!]
Even such magnificent scenery could not hold Dantioch back. Instead, sensing his Primarch's grand vision, Dantioch was inspired to construct a utopia of his own!
He firmly believed he could accomplish it—perhaps even better than his mother.
He would build a perfect city, one even larger and more flawless than hers!
At this moment, Caleb had no idea that the mindset of the Iron Warriors had completely shifted.
Until one day in the future, when Caleb could only yell at Perturabo:
"Perturabo, megastructures ruin the state!"