Time marched on like a wild mule, impossible to stop once it started running.
Half a month drifted by.
Under the personal command of three Primarchs and the combined purging efforts of their Legions, the comprehensive purification of the City of the Holy Anthem had entered its final stages.
The corrupted within the upper hive had been completely eradicated. The level-by-level sweep of the mid and lower hives was ninety percent complete, while the underhive was at fifty percent.
The Warp rift deep within the underhive had been compressed from its original diameter of one hundred and forty meters down to forty-seven meters.
Tech-Priests and Techmarines from the four Legions operated the containment devices in relentless day-and-night shifts, pushing the progress thirty percent ahead of schedule.
Meanwhile, Kent Hive had used these same fifteen days to undergo a complete revolution.
Kent Hive, Upper Spire, Heavy Landing Pad.
Cogboy stood at the edge of the landing pad, draped in his signature robes.
It wasn't that he didn't want a new outfit; it was just that this particular look had become Governor Cage Lawrence's iconic image.
Standing beside him was Blood Angel, who had changed into a simple, grey administrative uniform, a Crimson Dawn emblem pinned to his chest.
Behind them stood over three hundred players who had not undergone superhuman modification.
These players had primarily chosen auxiliary progression paths: logistics, administration, education, and medicae.
Right now, they were gathered in small groups, absolutely spamming the regional chat.
[Regional Chat]
[Emperor I Parked My Ghostfire Bike Downstairs]: "Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! All three Primarchs coming together?!"
[It's Heresy, Use the Exterminatus]: "Sanguinius, Guilliman, Ferrus... good lord, three Primarchs descending upon our Kent Hive at the same time?"
[Titus Wants to Steal Slaanesh's Girl]: "Shame the Lion isn't here. Otherwise, Dark Angels + Blood Angel Angels + Ultramarines... Imperium Secundus would just establish itself right here on the spot."
[The Last Purity of the Imperium of Man]: "You bunch of heretics! What do you mean Imperium Secundus?! This is the great, glorious, correct, and indivisible Imperium of Man!"
[Selling Churros Outside the Imperial Palace]: "Everyone, calm down. When we see the real deal in a minute, don't blow our cover. We are Crimson Dawn administrative officials now."
[Selling Flatbread Outside the Imperial Palace]: "Speaking of which, what does the real Guilliman actually look like? How accurate are those miniature paint jobs from the game?"
[Selling Ramen Outside the Imperial Palace]: "According to the lore: 3.84 meters tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, classical handsome features, griffon motifs on his pauldrons... basically a walking Greek statue come to life."
[Nurgle Do You Want a Wife or Not]: "Cut the chatter. Thunderhawk augur pings have entered the atmosphere. Landing in thirty seconds."
The channel instantly fell dead silent.
All the players straightened their backs, adjusted their expressions, and tried their hardest to look like proper, serious administrative officials.
Even if some of them were suffering from facial muscle spasms trying to hold back their laughter.
Wrrrmmm!
The deep roar of engines rumbled from the sky above.
Three Thunderhawk gunships broke through the thin mist covering the hive spire in a V-formation, slowly descending toward their designated zones on the heavy landing pad.
A heavy thud echoed as their landing gear touched down, and the plasma wash from their thrusters gradually extinguished.
The hydraulic hiss of the assault ramps lowering was exceptionally loud in the quiet morning air.
Sanguinius was the first to step out of the lead Thunderhawk.
His pristine white wings unfurled in the morning light, every single feather seeming to radiate a soft, inherent glow.
A gentle smile graced the Great Angel's face as his amber-gold slit pupils swept across the crowd gathered on the landing pad, his gaze lingering on the players for a moment.
Next was Guilliman. At 3.84 meters tall, he had to lower his head slightly to clear the ramp. His ice-blue eyes were as clear as the glaciers of Macragge.
The Ultramarines Primarch had foregone his helm today, letting his golden hair blow freely in the wind, his classical features set in a scrutinizing expression.
Finally came Ferrus, the Master of the Iron Hands.
The cold, metallic sheen of his silver-grey power armor rippled with light, and his silver-grey hair only accentuated the intimidating, stern look on his resolute face.
The three Primarchs stood together.
That sight alone caused the regional chat to detonate once again.
[Regional Chat]
[Nurgle Do You Want a Wife or Not]: "I'm so... this aura..."
[The Last Purity of the Imperium of Man]: "Sanguinius, Guilliman, Ferrus... If these three partied up, even five Greater Daemons of Chaos would take a detour."
[Guilliman's Little Blue Beam]: "Emperor above... please bless me so I don't pass out right here..."
[Selling Coke Outside the Imperial Palace]: "Calm down! Everyone calm down! Don't forget our personas!"
Cogboy took a deep breath, stepped forward three paces, and pounded his right fist against his left breastplate.
"Governor of Kent Hive, Cage Lawrence, alongside his administrative cabinet, humbly welcomes Lord Sanguinius, Lord Guilliman, and Lord Ferrus."
His voice was steady, his posture respectful but not subservient. This was the exact level of reception the players had spent half the night debating and finalizing.
Too subservient wouldn't fit the Crimson Dawn's style, but too arrogant, and they might literally be torn in half by the Primarchs on the spot.
Sanguinius nodded slightly.
"Governor Lawrence, there is no need for such formalities." The Great Angel's voice was as soothing as a spring breeze. "We have come merely to observe the changes Kent Hive has undergone."
"I heard you announced the implementation of a series of new policies?" Guilliman chimed in, his ice-blue eyes fixed on Cogboy. "It seems your efficiency is quite high."
It sounded like a compliment, but the players could all hear the probing undertone.
To implement new policies within a massive, ossified system like a hive city and actually see initial results in such a short time frame was highly irregular.
Cogboy replied without batting an eye.
"Everything we do is for the Imperium, and for the citizens of the Imperium." He stepped aside, gesturing for them to proceed. "My lords, please, follow me."
The three Primarchs began their inspection in the Third Administrative Zone, located near the landing pad.
This was one of the first sectors in Kent Hive to complete its renovation.
The streets here were uncharacteristically clean for a hive city. The ferrocrete roads had been freshly poured and leveled, and energy-efficient lumen-poles lined both sides.
Banners bearing the Crimson Dawn emblem and slogans like "Glory in Labor" and "Labor Changes Destiny" hung from the poles.
The exterior walls of the buildings lining the street had been uniformly painted a light grey.
The graffiti and grime that had once covered every surface were gone, replaced by neat, orderly windows and balconies.
"Road repair, lumen networks, and exterior facade restoration are all part of our comprehensive infrastructure overhaul initiative," Blood Angel explained from the side, holding a data-slate that displayed the real-time progress of various projects. "We plan to take three years to restore the entire hive to a level where the air is breathable, the water is drinkable, and citizens won't step into toxic sludge pits when walking down the street."
Ferrus's gaze swept over the road surface.
The Iron Hands Primarch knelt, dragging a ceramite-clad finger across the ferrocrete.
"The pour quality is acceptable. The mixture ratio meets standards, and the curing process was executed properly." He stood back up, his voice rasping through his vox-synthesizer. "Your efficiency is over forty percent higher than conventional engineering corps on prosperous worlds."
"That is because we utilize a new management system," Cogboy explained. "The engineering corps are paid piece-rate wages coupled with quality bonuses. Work well, earn more. Perform poorly, face deductions."
Guilliman's eyebrows twitched slightly.
This management style was remarkably similar to certain projects on Macragge.
But he didn't say anything, merely continuing to walk forward.
At the end of the street was a small plaza. It had previously been a dumping ground for garbage and scrap parts, but it had now been converted into a public recreation area.
A statue stood in the center of the plaza. It wasn't of some hero or deity, but of a worker holding a mining pick and a technician gripping a wrench, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, looking up at the sky.
Four lines of text were carved into the statue's plinth:
Trade labor for sustenance, earn dignity through effort.
Your efforts today are your harvest tomorrow.
Advocate diligence, equality, fraternity, and dignity.
Shun greed, wrath, sloth, and lust.
Sanguinius came to a halt before the statue.
The Great Angel's amber-gold slit pupils stared at the four lines of text for a long time before he finally spoke softly.
"These are very simple ideals. But more often than not, the simplest ideals are the hardest to realize."
"Indeed, Lord Sanguinius," Blood Angel nodded. "That is why we start with the most fundamental things." He pointed to the side of the plaza. "That is the newly constructed public schola. It opened just yesterday."
The public schola's main building had been retrofitted from an abandoned warehouse.
The exterior walls were painted a bright yellow, the windows were large and let in plenty of light, and a Crimson Dawn flag flew from the roof.
It was currently recess, and children were running and playing in the courtyard.
The children all wore matching grey uniforms. Though the fabric was plain, they were clean, tidy, and fit well.
"Children and adolescents between the ages of six and sixteen are mandated to undergo compulsory foundational education. Tuition is completely free, and textbooks are provided by the Governor's Office," Cogboy explained, detailing the new educational policy. "Teachers are recruited from the hive populace. They undergo training before taking their posts, and their salary is set at 1.5 times the average hive wage."
"Compulsory education?" Ferrus looked at Cogboy. "What are your operational costs?"
"The short-term costs are exceedingly high," Cogboy admitted openly. "Printing textbooks, paying teacher salaries, maintaining schola facilities, providing student meals... Currently, this expense is borne entirely by the Governor's treasury, accounting for roughly fifteen percent of our monthly expenditure. But in the long run, this is a necessary investment."
"A worker with a foundational education is at least fifty percent more productive than an illiterate one," Blood Angel chimed in. "Citizens who possess basic numeracy and literacy skills can better comprehend technical manuals and safety regulations, allowing them to participate in more complex social and organizational collaborations."
He paused, before uttering a few sentences that would be considered borderline heretical in the Warhammer universe:
"Human talent is the primary driving force behind the development of productive forces. Every single person should have the right to choose their own path in life, and we, the Crimson Dawn, will do our utmost to ensure they have that right. If they work hard enough, we will even consider sending these talented individuals to more prosperous Imperial worlds to study advanced technologies, so they can return and give back to Aurelian IV."
Guilliman's fingers began tapping unconsciously against his sword hilt.
Those words... were far too familiar.
He knew better than anyone the immense resistance he had faced when pushing for universal foundational education on Macragge and across the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar.
Those in the Council of Terra constantly shrieked that educating the lower classes was a waste of resources, arguing that all they needed to know was how to mine and how to obey orders.
Guilliman walked over to the edge of the playground.
A young boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, was playing a game of catch with some pebbles with his friends.
Seeing Primarchs—figures akin to giants—approaching, the children froze for a moment before snapping into a unified, albeit slightly sloppy, Imperial salute. It was the standard Imperial etiquette taught by the schola for greeting the Emperor's Angels.
"At ease," Guilliman knelt down, his ice-blue eyes level with the young boy's. "Do you enjoy attending schola?"
The boy was visibly nervous, but he nodded vigorously.
"I do! The teacher teaches us how to read, and they give us bread for lunch!"
"Bread?"
"Yeah! White bread! It's super soft and really tasty!"
The boy pulled a small, wax-paper-wrapped chunk of bread from his pocket, showing it off carefully. "I couldn't bear to eat it all. I saved some so my little sister can try it tonight."
Guilliman fell silent for a few seconds.
He stood back up and looked at Cogboy.
"Do all the students receive this?"
"Yes, Lord Guilliman," Blood Angel answered. "Every student is provided with two nutritious meals a day to ensure they do not go hungry while learning. The standard ration is two hundred grams of synthetic protein and three hundred grams of carbohydrate bread. The production capacity of the hive's food manufactorums is still ramping up. In three months, the lunch standard will be increased to three hundred grams of protein."
Guilliman's gaze shifted to the schola gates, where a little girl was holding her mother's hand, excitedly pointing at the emblem above the entrance.
It was the insignia of the Crimson Dawn: a golden sunrise encircled by stars, gears, and wheat stalks.
The mother knelt and gently stroked her daughter's hair.
Sanguinius watched the scene, a profound sense of awe stirring within him.
"What you are doing here..." he spoke softly, "...is truly remarkable."
--
Goal = 600 Powerstones.
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