"Three sets of gene-seed. One hundred units in total."
After handing over the three sets containing a hundred gene-seed samples, Aslot turned to face the Inquisitor's party. The Ultramarines had remained silent after hearing his initial statement. As a model Codex Chapter, and influenced by Guilliman, almost every Ultramarine is a natural-born politician.
In that instant, they had considered many things. Four ancient Contemptor Dreadnoughts. A large contingent of loyalists from traitor legions. The ability to banish Fulgrim in a one-on-one fight—and not even at full strength, as they had all seen the records of this lord's battle against Mortarion. They knew he hadn't gone all-out against Fulgrim's mere avatar.
A being of such immense power had vanished for ten thousand years—or perhaps even longer. Not even in the records on Macragge was there any mention of him. This meant one of two things: either their own gene-father had been unaware of his existence, or he had deliberately concealed it. Therefore, this individual certainly had a very special and secret mission.
Metellus concluded that it was enough to simply know of his existence. To probe any further, to accidentally uncover something significant, would be impolitic. At least, until their own Primarch returned, such matters were best left unsaid.
Inquisitor Chris, however, clearly had something to say. While he too was a bit fanatical, his case was relatively mild. Now that he knew who Magos Omega 010 served, he no longer intended to dig deeper.
However…
"Venerable one, why is this great and holy being unwilling to return to Terra? The Imperium is fractured and in dire need of a sacred figure to rally behind."
"Allow me. The Lord has foreseen all of this."
A Techmarine stepped forward. Giovanni frowned slightly; something about the man felt unsettling. But his livery was that of Trailblaze, just like the Dreadnought's. It was clear that while the Lord had replenished the Lamenters' ranks, technical specialists like Techmarines and Apothecaries were not so easily replaced, so he had sent his own people. This one was most likely an Iron Warrior. Still, Giovanni showed him the utmost respect. When the Techmarine produced a recording device, everyone instinctively stood straighter.
As expected, the next moment, Zhou Ye's power-armored form appeared on the screen.
"Gentlemen. First, I must clarify: I am not a primarch, just an ordinary human."
"..."
With that single sentence, a bizarre atmosphere descended upon the hall. Everyone, including Giovanni of the Black Templars—a son of Dorn renowned for his straightforwardness—adopted an expression that said, "Right, right, whatever you say."
They didn't believe a single word of it. An ordinary human banishing Fulgrim? Not everyone was Sly Marbo. And this act was a bit much.
"The Imperium does indeed need a primarch, but that is not me. Even if I were to return, I could not save the Imperium as it is now. Moreover, I have my own mission, one I have borne for ten millennia."
"..."
Everyone fell silent. Though they did not know what mission Zhou Ye carried, for a primarch to conceal himself so completely, to the point of not even having his own Legion, told them one thing: it must be of monumental importance. It was best not to ask, lest they be "made loyal."
"Furthermore, a Son of God will return in the future. He is the most suitable candidate."
The projection vanished, and the Techmarine retracted the recorder.
He hadn't specified which primarch would return, but one thing was true: if you sent Zhou Ye back to Terra to face the mountain of administrative affairs that festered like a rotting corpse, he would be utterly powerless. He might dare to purge the parasites on Terra, but what then? You can't just destroy without building something new. The mere thought of that tangled mess filled Zhou Ye with despair.
To be frank, the Warmaster of the Imperium could have been Horus, Lion El'Jonson, or even Ferrus Manus. The second Emperor of Mankind might have been Sanguinius, or it might not have. But one position was almost an absolute certainty: the Imperial Chancellor would inevitably be Guilliman. No one else could manage the chaos of the Imperium. Even back in the 30K era, Guilliman's authority over the Imperium's administration was immense, second only to Malcador and the Emperor himself, though he rarely exercised it.
Therefore, the first primarch to officially return could only be Guilliman. No one else would do. If you asked Zhou Ye to take the job, he'd just shake his head.
The Imperium of Man was so vast that even the thought of destroying it filled Zhou Ye with despair. His initial plan was to leverage the Imperium's power while acting in secret, using his Star Rails to connect worlds far from any Mandeville Points, worlds that had little contact with the Imperium. He would develop his strength quietly and build up enough power before making any other moves.
---o---
With Zhou Ye's message concluded, it was time for the assembled parties to disperse.
Whether Inquisitors or Space Marines, each had their own duties. They had little time for leisure. This was the unavoidable reality of the Imperium, which oppressed everyone equally and, just as equally, forced everyone to live in suffering. And the most tormented person in this empire was its very symbol of power, the Emperor.
So, when the Emperor said Guilliman was merely his tool, he was right, but not entirely. If Guilliman were to ask the Emperor what he himself was, the answer would likely be two words: 'a tool.' They were all fated to a life of toil.
The first to leave was Giovanni. His most important task now was to bring the gene-seed back to the Eternal Crusader and then rendezvous with the Phalanx. The next Feast of Blades was about to begin, which was the perfect occasion to decide the distribution of the one hundred gene-seed samples.
Next was Seth of the Flesh Tearers. Aslot had no intention of leaving, and with an ancient of the Blood Angels present, not even Dante himself could command him. Asmodai also deduced that this primarch, who concealed himself so thoroughly, must have a crucial mission. Though he was not of the Dark Angels, considering his status, he decided not to pry.
And so, Seth departed with a savage grin, carrying the ten thousand doses of the potion. Mario, Aslot, and Chris all had the same thought: the man's smile carried more than a hint of perversion. The potion was highly effective, its results exceeding even Zhou Ye's expectations. His initial inspiration came from Dante—using a foul stench to suppress the Red Thirst—but he never imagined it would work on a spiritual level. It was best not to delve too deeply into the workings of Warp-related phenomena.
Seth couldn't wait to bring this wonderful concoction back to the Blood Angels, find Dante, and promote it to all the Chapters of Sanguinius's lineage. Such a fine product had to be shared equally with every son of Sanguinius. The Lamenters had also assured him that if they ran out, they would provide more.
The last to depart were Inquisitor Chris and the Ultramarines traveling with him. However...
"Lad, wait a moment."
Aslot stopped Chris, who looked back with a puzzled expression.
"Remember to send a copy of the battle report to the Space Wolves."
"Huh?" Chris tilted his head in confusion but nodded nonetheless.
Zhou Ye had no intention of hiding his battle record. While he cared little for personal glory, this was Warhammer, a society where honor was paramount. For these ascetic Astartes, it was their sole pursuit, and to deny them that would be too cruel.
As for Aslot, if he still had a face, one would see a twisted smile spreading across it.
Dammit, I can't be the only one who gets bullied. I need to find someone to bully too. That unlucky sod from the Space Wolves was a perfect choice. Seeing this battle report would surely make him twist in agony.
As an Astartes modified by Zhou Ye, it was impossible for him not to have picked up a few tricks.
Having thus transferred his bullying, Aslot hummed a little tune and departed, leaving behind a bewildered Inquisitor and a squad of Ultramarines. But since the request had been made, Chris had no objections. It was a newly founded chapter, after all; this was a minor issue. He wasn't one of the fanatics from the Ordo Malleus and had no particular opinion of the Space Wolves.
Chris planned to travel to Macragge first to drop off his passengers. Then, he would use the Mandeville Point there to return to Holy Terra. This was no small matter. Banishing the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim—such an honor was unprecedented, even for the Inquisition. This glory had to be shared. He would also drop off the shard of the Piercing Sword at the Inquisition's headquarters. He had a feeling that if the fanatics from the Iron Hands found out he had it, he wouldn't be very safe.
He would leave the subsequent squabbling to the Inquisition and the Iron Hands. Besides, with this honor to his name, he could advance his career. While all Inquisitors are equal, some are often more equal than others. He was only human, and he too desired to get ahead.
---o---
With the departure of the final group, the warship returned to silence.
"Well then, let's head back and resupply. I wonder how the recruitment of neophytes is going."
Seeing the ship calm once more and Aslot returned to his slumber, Mario placed the Dreadnought back into its stasis field and prepared to return to their mission.
"The Lord installed a super-large pocket dimension for us. This Golden Age technology is very useful. Besides storing food and water, it has a vast amount of empty space. According to the Lord's instructions, we are to fill it up with people before every return trip."
The Techmarine reminded Mario. Zhou Ye now had over a dozen habitable planets under his control, but they all lacked population. So, he had given a mission to all his Space Marines operating in the wider galaxy: fill 'er up before you come home. With that massive pocket dimension, transporting a million people at a time was no problem.
"The screening can be left to those people. They are a race the Lord discovered by accident. They are extremely sensitive to hidden cultists, mutants, xenos, and psykers. When the time comes, you just need to follow their orders. If they tell you to shoot, you shoot."
"Understood!"
Mario nodded. They were saviors, not bleeding hearts. They understood the gravity of the situation and would open fire without hesitation on any hidden enemies. He knew Zhou Ye's goals and was deeply committed to them.
"Then let's head to Quintus Hive to replenish our numbers."
"No. Before the Lord left, he told us not to linger there. Once our business was concluded, we were to leave immediately. There are several newly discovered hive worlds along our route; we can resupply there. The underhive scavengers and the like are all very suitable candidates. The planetary governor won't even blink an eye no matter how many we take, which will make future cooperation easier."
The Techmarine shook his head. The main reason was that Zhou Ye had dropped the Yellow Fiend there. He didn't want any contact with that abstract entity, so he had warned his people not to stay. For someone with Star Rails and a jump drive, crossing from one planet to another was easier than taking a bus across a city.
"Very well."
Though he didn't know why, Mario didn't argue. Soon, the ship entered stealth mode, and after confirming they weren't being followed, it vanished in a streak of light.
---o---
On New Tillius, inside the Cathedral of the Emperor's Children, the atmosphere was solemn and dignified. The new Sons of the Phoenix had completed their first mission.
They had severed all ties with their gene-father of the past. Though only eighty-odd of the original hundred had returned, it was a glorious accomplishment. And with Zhou Ye's advanced technology and population support, replenishing their numbers, while difficult, was not impossible.
Now, in the cathedral, beneath the statues of the Emperor and Zhou Ye, Ashira knelt on one knee, holding his sword in one hand. All the Sons of the Phoenix bowed to him, showing him the highest respect.
Rylanor approached him, holding a special helmet. Looking at this new generation of the Sons of the Phoenix, he was filled with emotion.