A secret unit known as the Shadow Keepers was ford.
Their sacred duty was to guard forbidden things until ti's end. They dedicated themselves to this arduous task, patrolling the dark, silent underground corridors, vigilantly watching over the terrifying echoes of the Age of Strife.
mbers of the Shadow Keepers always carried various creations from the Dark Age of Technology, as well as weapons of mysterious origin.
These included shackles capable of severing biological neural networks and annihilation grenades that could erase the very concept of existence from the realm of the Highest Heavens. When prisoners in the dungeon attempted escape, the guards would deploy these terrifying weapons, re-imprisoning them at any cost.
Guarding the dungeon was never an easy task. An oppressive atmosphere of terror perpetually lingered there. An eternal threat deepened the shadows, making them crawl and writhe as if possessed of corporeal form.
Even Astartes with their resilient minds remained constantly alert within the dungeon's confines, for the unspeakable sense of oppression never diminished.
But today, the guardians of the dungeon felt unprecedented ease. Golden light illuminated the dark passages, dispelling the lingering atmosphere of terror.
The contained entities released ear-piercing screams, fleeing in fear toward darker recesses, cowering and trembling in forgotten corners.
"Tyrant! Tyrant!" In the deepest part of Terra's dungeons, a madman howled hysterically. His na was Basilio Fo, one of the warlords defeated by the Master of Mankind during the Unification Wars.
Basilio Fo had been a genius engineer in the field of biochanics. The biological monstrosities he created could kill an unaugnted Astartes in single combat.
During the Age of Strife, he had unleashed countless aberrations upon Terra's civilized cities.
After the Emperor launched the Great Crusade, Basilio harbored extre hatred and fear toward the Master of Mankind.
He feared that his sovereign would settle accounts for past transgressions. Realizing that unification was inevitable and learning that warlords who resisted had been executed, Basilio attempted escape into the void.
Unfortunately, he was captured by the Astartes before reaching orbit and cast into these dungeons.
Had Raven been present, he would surely have recognized Basilio Fo. This wretch was no simple prisoner.
In the predetermined tiline, when Horus rebelled and led his massive traitor host to Terra's gates, the defenders had retreated to the Inner Palace.
This man should have been executed, yet he managed to deceive the Astartes with his silver tongue and even used his talents to develop a virus specifically targeting the Space Marines.
The power of this pathogen was terrifying, effective not only against Astartes but capable of harming even the Primarchs, those demigod sons of the Emperor. This virus was later stolen by Nurgle's favored daemon, Ku'gath, and deployed against Guilliman.
The Lord of Ultramar had nearly perished, saved only by the Emperor's divine intervention, splitting Nurgle's Garden with a single stroke of His flaming sword.
It must be said that Terra's warlords from the Age of Strife were each more formidable than the last, capable of concocting plagues that could affect a Primarch.
"Poor wretch, is the re radiance of my Lords more than you can bear?" The black-armored Custodian guarding Basilio removed his helm, revealing a resolute and noble visage. His tone carried pity.
"One day, his arrogance will drag all of you into hell," Basilio hissed through gritted teeth, his body trembling with impotent rage.
The Custodian regarded him with contempt, then replaced his helt and resud his eternal vigil.
anwhile, upon Terra's surface, the magnificent cities were completely enveloped by the radiance of the Emperor and Raven. There was no longer distinction between day and night, it had beco a realm of eternal light, like the divine domains described in myths.
Initially, people found the perpetual illumination sowhat unsettling. But soon they grew accustod to it. Residents of other worlds were driven to jealousy, envying their kin who could bask in their Lords' radiance.
Terra's property values soared astronomically. Any random dwelling was worth more than the grandest palace in any hive world, or even entire planets. Even at such exorbitant prices, demand far exceeded supply.
No one wished to leave Terra. Even enduring poverty in the labyrinthine cities was preferable to luxury on other worlds.
While the entire Human Empire was gripped by fervor, so scholars from the Scholastica Psykana noted a concerning developnt. The Emperor was the most powerful psyker in human history.
With the Golden Throne's blessing, His power surpassed even the gods of mythology. Citizens of Terra, long bathed in the Emperor's radiance, would have their minds gradually purified and refined, eventually transforming them into zealots.
Unfortunately, these scholars' warnings were quickly drowned out by public fervor and received insufficient attention.
After the Golden Throne was activated and operating independently, Raven and the Emperor rose from their seats. The light and thunder slowly faded, transforming them from gods back into mortals.
Upon detaching from the omniscience and omnipotence granted by the Golden Throne, Raven experienced a profound sense of loss.
But his attention was quickly drawn to the new flavor of fries and ketchup offered by Malcador.
"The Golden Throne's capabilities are extraordinary. It has allowed to perceive certain flaws in our grand design," the Emperor discussed with Malcador. "In the galactic core region dwells a powerful human subspecies. We must bring them into the Imperial fold."
"You an the Leagues of Votann? Those Space dwarfs?" Raven asked, munching on fries. When the Big Guy ntioned the galactic core, he knew exactly whom he ant.
The core region's density far exceeded the outer rim, filled with stars and high-energy radiation.
Who else would inhabit such hostile environs besides those peculiar folk?
"Space Dwarfs? How apt," the Emperor mused, combining this with visions witnessed upon the Golden Throne.
He had observed that this human subspecies was indeed shorter than baseline humans, yet powerfully built, much like the dwarfs of fantasy literature.
"Bringing the Leagues into the Empire is wise," Raven agreed. "They've inherited considerable technological legacies from the Dark Age."
Long ago, the first human colonists had arrived at worlds orbiting the galactic core, discovering vast mineral deposits including compounds condensed from superheated cores of dead stars.
They found strange substances ford at the galaxy's birth, which could be slted into alloys of unique properties. Ruins were also uncovered.
These discoveries attracted adventurers, comrcial enterprises, miners, and explorers to the Galactic Core, forming nurous settled worlds. The core's stars were older, larger, and possessed stronger gravity than elsewhere in the galaxy.
Planets orbiting these stellar giants were mineral-rich rocky worlds, barren, desolate, and lifeless, impossible to terraform.
The colonists carved their dwellings beneath stone, building self-sufficient communities in excavated tunnels and mines.
Over millennia, these settlers changed under environntal influence. Their bodies beca short and compact, their bones and muscles adapted to withstand greater planetary gravity, hence they were called Squats, or more properly, the Leagues of Votann.
During the Age of Strife, Warp storms isolated the Galactic Core from other regions. The imnse gravitational forces generated by dense stellar formations made the Warp more stable there, so the Leagues suffered minimal damage.
They erged from the Age of Strife quickly, developing rapidly under guidance of their Ancestor Cores, the Votann, quantum computers constructed during humanity's golden age.
The Leagues possessed incredible gastructures: stellar particle excavators that could completely dismantle nascent stars, converting them to rare elents; planetary mining engines that could pulverize entire worlds, using pipelines tens of kiloters long to extract required substances.
These folk were the finest miners imaginable, they could work the deep places with unmatched skill. Bringing them into the Empire would surely accelerate its developnt.
"Angron and Guilliman are closest to the Galactic Core. Which would you recomnd?" the Emperor inquired.
"Obviously Angron," Raven replied, rolling his eyes. "Guilliman's intent on building his little kingdom. Send him, and he'll try every ans to get the Leagues to join his personal kingdom instead."
Everyone knew the ambitions of the famous King of Macragge, future Lord of Ultramar.
Whatever the Empire has, his empire must have it also . And whatever the Imperium lacked, his empire specifically possess that in abundance.
The Emperor nodded. "Then issue orders to Angron. Let him travel to the Galactic Core and negotiate with the Leagues, seeking their peaceful integration into the Imperial fold."
"I'll tell him myself," Raven said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He intended to use this opportunity to slip away and visit Angron.
Having just returned from the Azur Lane Universe, the Big Guy would certainly remain on Terra for so ti to perfect his plans. Staying here would be boring, better to visit the Primarchs and ensure none had been corrupted by the Chaos Gods.
"Don't tarry overlong," the Emperor nodded, then addressed Malcador. "Draft formal orders for Raven to deliver to Angron."
"It shall be done, my Lord," Malcador replied with a bow.
When preparations were complete and Raven prepared to depart for Angron's location, a Custodian arrived with startling news.
"A group of Aeldari has manifested upon Terra's surface. One claims divine status, Cegorach as he calls himself."
This news stopped Raven, as he delyed his walk and accompanied the Emperor to et this xenos deity.
When She Who Thirsts was born, the Aeldari Pantheon collapsed, their gods either devoured or shattered into fragnts.
Only the Laughing God, Cegorach, who hid deep within the Webway's heart, Isha the life-goddess imprisoned within Nurgle's garden, and the yet-unawakened Ynnead had escaped destruction.
Since that catastrophe, Cegorach had guarded the Black Library left by the Old Ones, occasionally slipping into Slaanesh's domain through cunning and deception to rescue Aeldari souls from eternal tornt.
Sensing the drastic changes in the Warp and witnessing the golden sun's rise, he had imdiately led mbers of his Harlequin troupe and Craftworld Farseers onto Terra's sacred soil.
The Custodians had detected them instantly and moved to surround the xenos delegation.
[End of Chapter]
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