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Chapter 253: Everyone Has Their Own Challenges
🕑 Added 2025-10-21 10:56:41 +0000 UTCChapter 253: Everyone Has Their Own Challenges
761.M41, Forge World - Incaladion
The records of Incaladion's founding centuries were fragmented. But what little remained indicated that this world was built under the constant threat of invasion. Considering the planet's rich deposits of rare minerals and its ideal biosphere for human life, Incaladion should have been a perfect, habitable colony.
However, the stable warp-currents that had guided the Mechanicus colonists to this planet had also brought other, less welcome travelers. Everyone saw the forge world as a target worth plundering. Thus, the Mechanicus of Incaladion evolved into a unique and highly militant faction.
During the Horus Heresy, Incaladion's 'Fury' Legion titanicus and the 'Mordred' Knight House had chosen to rebel, and had been subject to a harsh reckoning afterwards. But Incaladion had endured.
The tide of xenos invasions had spurred a unique path of technological development. Massive defensive fortresses were rebuilt to protect the richest mineral layers and the algae-rich oceans. Hidden forge-temples were embedded kilometers below the crust. All of Incaladion's efforts and wars were dedicated to protecting itself from the endless cycle of invasion and bloodshed, and to protecting its interests in the surrounding sectors.
Outside, a blizzard raged. The temperature had long since dropped below minus thirty degrees. Toxic gases filled the air. Anyone who dared to stay outside for ten minutes risked their life. Inside, it was as warm as spring. The latest heating systems allowed the nobles in the banquet hall to wear magnificent and light clothing.
Beneath a giant blue cogitator, a Magos sat silently. He wore a dark robe and watched the lavish ball of the nobles and knightly houses, his brow furrowed. The dancing men and women, the knights holding wine glasses and conversing in low tones... they were an eyesore. He then looked out the window, as if seeing the orders that the forge world had been denied today, seeing the suppressed anger of the Magi beneath the ice-sea.
"Archmagos Narendra, these are your allies. I think you should participate appropriately, to understand their needs," a Magos in the bright red robes of Mars said, appearing silently at his side. He leaned on a long staff. The edges of his robes were embroidered with numerous chemical symbols and genetic patterns. The exposed areas of his body also had a great deal of flesh. It was clear he was a Magos Biologis.
"Vitus, I have no interest in such matters. Tomorrow, the Magi of the various forge-cities will surely come to me, complaining that their profits have hit a record low. The council will also impeach me. The progress of my research will be further delayed," Narendra, the Fabricator-General of Incaladion, said, his voice low as he gripped the glowing axe in his hand.
"Look at them. The forge world has poured countless resources into them, has rebuilt the Titan Legions. Yet, while I am worrying about the development of the forge world, not a single one of them is discussing how to solve this problem. They have been holding a ball for nine whole days. Those angry Magi will only think that I can no longer lead the forge world forward, that I am a useless piece of scrap. And these worthless things... they should be atoning."
The Adeptus Mechanicus was one of the few organizations that could keep up with the efficiency of the Dawnlight Sector. And for this very reason, the problems they faced were also exposed more quickly and directly.
"They do not know your difficulties. Many times, it is not the wrong action, but the inaction, that is more infuriating," Vitus nodded in agreement, then said meaningfully, "The Primarchs have integrated too well with the Imperium. They have not challenged power itself, but have instead used power to their own convenience."
This directly led to the Mechanicus being unable to win the support of multiple factions by defending its own rights, and could only scheme in the dark. If they were to start a frontal conflict without reason today, sending in the Titan Legions and the Knight Houses, then the Primarchs could have their heads tonight. The Adeptus Mechanicus was, after all, just the Adeptus Mechanicus, a fragmented organization parasitic on the body of the Imperium, not a complete political entity. And Incaladion already had the original sin of the Great Heresy, and was considered an outcast even within the Mechanicus. It was difficult to form a coalition against the Primarchs.
But the ever-increasing surplus of production and the decline of trade routes made it more and more difficult for Narendra to maintain his position.
"Vitus, just say what you have to say."
"Since the Primarchs like to act according to the rules, then we will use the rules," Vitus said slowly. "As a Magos Biologis, I discovered many interesting things when I was examining gene-seed on Mars. One of them—" he presented a sigil. It was a purple background with a golden chalice.
Narendra's eyes focused. The Soul Drinkers. A Second Founding Chapter, a successor of the Imperial Fists, but somewhat out of place among the Sons of Dorn.
"I will only say this: their gene-seed is flawed, but they are currently loyal. And I can subtly guide them to the opposite side of the Imperium," Vitus hinted. "I believe the Primarchs' authority is not enough to protect a renegade chapter."
"..." Narendra stared silently at Vitus, his iron-masked face showing no emotion.
Faced with the pressure from the Primarchs, Mars was not without a response. They did not need to challenge the Primarchs' authority or to embarrass them. The important thing was to use a conflict in which the Primarchs were not in the right to unite the majority of the factions that were already dissatisfied with them.
"Do as you will," Narendra said. He could agree to this.
"That would be for the best," Vitus said with a slight bow. He only needed to wait for his plan to succeed. Before that, most would endure. Until a small action could provoke another war. "Then I will take my leave."
"Farewell," Narendra said flatly, watching the back of the other Magos depart. He then casually melted the Soul Drinkers' sigil. Fool. He has no idea what a Primarch represents.
The Archmagos's true form was revealed. He stared at his axe, at the dull iron light above. He had once excavated relics in the ruins of an ancient fortress, hoping to draw from the wisdom of his ancestors a way to make Incaladion great again, but he had found nothing. But then, as his excavations went deeper, an altar, an iron altar that had stood in the deep sea of Incaladion since the Great Crusade, had caught Narendra's attention. It recorded an unknown piece of history.
In the beginning, the being who had conquered Incaladion, the true master of Incaladion. The Lord of Iron!
That was the god of the machine, the true master of the machine. In an instant, he had analyzed the structure of a warship, had twisted the iron veins, had restored ancient technology. With just a casual word of guidance, he had broken through the maze that had troubled him for a hundred years.
He suppressed the excitement in his heart and presented his request, the movements of the Primarchs, to the Lord of Iron. And the Lord of Iron was happy to participate. Narendra only needed to wait. Wait for that crusade to bring doom to the Primarchs.
"Go, to Cadia," he said to the members of the Titan Legions and the Knight Houses. "You all need to go to Cadia."
Only a Primarch could deal with a Primarch.
"Hahaha, Lord Arthur, long time no see!"
On the edge of the Dawnlight Sector, aboard the Silent Vow, the Space Wolf Wolf Guard Alm Iron-oath grinned, showing his yellow teeth, and hammered a fist against his chest in greeting to Arthur. He was much taller than he had been ten years ago.
After the Dawn Crusade, this squad of Space Wolves who had traveled with them for the latter half of the journey had answered the call of the Great Wolf Logan Grimnar and had begun the Great Hunt. They had reintegrated into the Space Wolves, attacking the Chaos forces that 'might' have clues to the whereabouts of the Wolf King Leman Russ, and had also brought back the Mark X production line and the Primaris Space Marine augmentation to their Chapter.
"Long time no see," Arthur replied, accepting the other's greeting with a flat tone, and then asked, "What is the purpose of the Space Wolves' visit?"
"Don't tell me you need the fleet's help," Ramesses couldn't help but tease. He quite liked the wolf-pups. They were fun to tease, and they didn't hold a grudge. Unlike the Dark Angels, who were typical sore losers.
"We could be," Alm laughed heartily, not feeling any shame. He had observed on his way here. This Dawnlight Fleet was carrying far more logistical ships than a regular fleet. It didn't look like they were just going to war. He also quite liked Lord Ramesses. He was completely different from the stereotypical Thousand Son. Especially the Stormseers and Rune Priests who had received his education all had a high opinion of him.
"Then we can also provide support," Arthur nodded seriously. The 40k-era Wolves were trustworthy. Both the Chapter's internal atmosphere and its leader were much more reliable than in 30k.
"Thank you for your generosity, Lord Arthur!" Alm immediately returned the salute, his casual expression gone. He then began to explain the reason for his visit. "I have come to extend an invitation to the Primarchs, an invitation from our Great Wolf to the lords of the Dawnbreakers."
"Now?" Arthur asked.
"Any time. Of course, the sooner the better," Alm said. "Our Wolfblade squad on Terra has heard some sensitive information from Terra, about you, my Lords. But only the Great Wolf knows the specifics. Please forgive our rudeness. Every Great Hunt, while destroying the enemies of the Emperor, also means the pack needs to lick its wounds."
It had to be said, these old wolves of the Vlka Fenryka, when they were being polite, were truly impeccable.
"..." Arthur and Ramesses exchanged a look.
"Someone is planning to cause trouble for us," Ramesses replied immediately.
Arthur nodded. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Ramesses shrugged. There were plenty of daemons to bear the burden for him.
"We will discuss it internally. Thank you for the warning," Arthur then said to Alm, meeting the eager gaze that had returned after the Primarch's response. Just like a husky. One moment one way, the next another.
He shook his head in amusement, then said, "The Dark Angels will prepare a feast for you. The same place as last time is reserved for you. But if you want a drink, you'll have to get it yourselves."
"Yes, my Lord," Alm replied immediately, then hammered his chest in farewell. After retreating ten steps, he immediately stood up and roared to the wolf-pups behind him, "Did you hear that? Our cousins want to see if we are worthy of a drink!"
"AYE!"
"Do the sons of Russ fear a challenge?!"
"AYE AYE!"
"For Russ and the Allfather!"
"AYE AYE AYE!"
A teeming mass of Wolves immediately poured into the silent corridors of the Silent Vow.
'What's that noise?' Azrael thought, who had just been discussing the Chapter's promotion path with Sammael and had been working at high intensity to coordinate the organization. He was confused. In his vision for the Wardens of Steel, the Dark Angels should not be making such a commotion. This was an embarrassment to the Prince!
He gestured to Belial and Sammael to open the door.
Whoosh—
Belial opened the door, and the roar of a sonic boom came through.
WHAM!
Belial dodged nimbly. A fist the size of a cooking pot was welded to Sammael's face.
"Haha, a barrel of authentic Fenrisian Mjod!" a Blood Claw named Ragnar Blackmane shouted, holding up the unconscious Sammael. He ignored the sword-drawing Belial and, under the twitching gaze of the bewildered Azrael, who had just received the message to 'show the wolf-pups their place,' ran towards the tavern.
For once, the Silent Vow was no longer silent.
"Lord Romulus, the Third Fleet has been dispatched to the Gothic Sector," Captain Aurora of the Dawnlight said, handing a data-box to Romulus, and then reported in a low voice, "They will resupply on the border, and then proceed directly to Port Maw. We have reached a certain agreement with the Gothic Sector and can dispatch technicians and members to study there. The people from our office will help."
The Gothic Sector, as one of the few sectors with its own self-developed battleships, was the face of the Imperial Navy in the Segmentum Obscurus. Communication was a must. Not just with the Gothic Fleet, the Dawnlight Sector had signed relevant agreements with many naval fleets along the route, and could dispatch naval officers to their fleets to study. They were not necessarily as advanced or as excellent as the Dawnlight Fleet, but their accumulated ten thousand years of experience was worth studying.
And the Gothic Sector was more unique. Port Maw itself was an unfinished ecumenopolis from the Dark Age of Technology. Its production capacity was comparable to that of a normal forge-world. So the local shipbuilding industry was also extremely developed, and even had unique models of naval fleets.
The Dawnlight Sector was currently severely short on personnel. The technicians they had sent were mainly to accumulate technical experience in the assembly of ship components, such as lances, to prepare for the future construction of Apocalypse-class battleships.
"How much time will it take?"
"About fifteen years. The training time will also depend on whether the other party cooperates."
Romulus calculated. They would most likely not be able to return until after the war. He silently wished them well, then looked out the window. The calmed Romulus began to sort out his thoughts again. In his mind, aside from the preset projects, was the report he had just received from Arthur and Ramesses.
As expected, every trip was accompanied by trouble. Fortunately, there were many of them, so it wasn't an all-or-nothing affair. The invitation from Fenris, the people to watch out for along the way, the possible threats... until the last few lines of Ramesses's prophecy on the last page made Romulus's pupils narrow with a grim expression.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus and Chaos? And a god of the machine? Vashtorr?" He had heard that his little brother Vashtorr had been thoroughly tormented by Ramesses. It was indeed possible that he would come looking for trouble. As for Fenris, it was a good idea to take the Burning One's shard in advance, to prevent any future complications.
A flame leaped up, turning the booklet to ash. There was so much to do. Every time he wanted to take a substantial step outward, countless resistances would come one after another.
Romulus rose and looked at the galaxy. On the other side of the galaxy was a new challenge. The eye of Slaanesh's birth stood there, the largest gateway for Chaos to invade reality. And the beginning of all the changes two hundred years from now.
Bring it on.
Romulus looked at the unknown distance, as if seeing a vast area waiting to be explored. A confident smile appeared on his face. The internal arrangements were in order. All unexpected factors had been dealt with. The most likely problems had been properly placed. If there was an accident, the fleet could return directly. There was no possibility of a sector being overrun. Because this was a nation.
A feeling of excitement burned in his heart like a flame. When the four of them had first set foot in the galaxy, they had even had to divide their attention to play their roles. Now, they had tens of thousands of elite troops, and an entire nation as their backer.
"It took us twenty years to gain a foothold in the Ultima Segmentum. What enemies will we see in this Segmentum Obscurus, what mysteries will we unravel, how much time will it take..." Romulus crossed his hands behind his back and looked out at the vast galaxy. "I look forward to it."
At the same time, on the edge of the Ghoul Stars.
In the dim bridge, the flickering tactical hololith cast a faint blue light on the metal deck. Outside the distant observation window, a twisted nebula was slowly writhing, like the wound of some great beast. This was the Ghoul Stars, a region rarely trodden by humanity. Even the existence of the stars themselves was bizarre.
"Lord Tyberos." Te Kahurangi had a pained look on his face as he looked at Tyberos, who was now clad in a custom suit of Terminator armour. It was made of solid auramite, its performance superior to that of a Custodian's Aquilon Terminator armour. Combined with Tyberos's four-meter-tall frame, it was hard to imagine what creature could defeat him.
And it wasn't just Tyberos. Almost all the sharks had received custom wargear. Even their fleet had been carefully maintained in the ports of the Dawnlight Sector, and had been fitted with the most stable and reliable components. The production lines inside the ships had also been carefully maintained, and could produce a series of personal equipment for Astartes combat, all of which had passed Alpha-plus level reliability tests.
This level of equipment was enough to make any Chapter drool. But the sharks were not happy at all. Because—
"This is the Lamenters. I am Chapter Master Malakim Phoros," a clear message came through the astropathic communication. "Our warp-journey has encountered an accident. We have appeared in the 81-aq/ct-99 region and are now under siege by the Hrud xenos. The enemy forces are vast. According to preliminary estimates, they occupy twenty star systems, and their invasion route will affect 32 Imperial border worlds..."
"The Lamenters request support!"
"..."
The high command of the Carcharodons Chapter was silent.
We just got here!
"Oh, a good show," in a quiet little room, a certain green Archmagos put away his records with a satisfied look.
