The Genetic Devolutor continued to run at minimum power, wearing away at the intellect and rationality of the slave army like water dripping through stone. This subtle, creeping genetic erosion was plunging the vast host into a slow but certain abyss of internal attrition.
Having buried this fatal spike behind the Rangdan's lines, Blazkowicz quietly boarded a fast vessel bound for Nur.
As he departed the J-11 system, the Warp routes were as bustling as the arterial pathways of a galaxy. Imperial warships constructed by Nur, escorted by convoy fleets, were chained together in lines by specialized gravitational cables. They looked like a pod of silent iron leviathans being towed through the turbulence of the Warp toward the front lines.
The warfare ahead was under immense pressure, consuming hundreds of millions of tons of materiel every single moment. Navigators and experienced crewmen had been reassigned in massive numbers to the logistics and supply fleets. Because the Imperial Void Fleet faced severe personnel shortages, ships could only be moved in this towed fashion, sent ahead to dock at frontline starports. Whenever a void warship was destroyed, a replacement vessel was immediately dispatched from the rear.
This continuous standoff was a direct contest of the war potential of two empires. In terms of resources—ranging from the ammunition of a basic autogun to voidships that spanned the stars—both sides were building at full throttle.
Behind the supply of materials lay a corresponding demand for manpower. Autoguns required hands to pull triggers; behemoth-like voidships waited for crews to steer them; and on the absolute front lines, the deficit of lower-level commanders was an astronomical figure. The Imperium of Man—this cosmic megastructure woven together from countless independent individuals—was using this war to temper itself from its very foundations.
For humanity, war held not only danger but also the opportunity to forge a stronger nation.
Witnessing the frantic scenes brought on by the war, Blazkowicz traveled against the current through the Warp. After several transits, he returned to the Nur Stars.
Along the way, he paid a brief visit to Guilliman.
The King of Macragge had completed the blockade of his defensive lines. In his spare time, he was teaching state administration to his sons, hoping that once the Great Crusade concluded, the Astartes would no longer be synonymous solely with war. Whenever Roboute Guilliman spoke of the future, a smile always graced his face, his brow filled with earnest anticipation. Blazkowicz remained noncommittal, bidding his brother farewell to continue his journey home.
At a starport on the fringes of Greater Ultramar, he encountered the Luna Wolves, who were resting and refitting, and spent a few days conversing freely with Horus. The Luna Wolves' defensive lines were patrolling the rear, flushing out pirates to secure the shipping lanes and ensure that supplies moved smoothly to the front. In recent months, the Luna Wolves had been pursuing a band of Eldar pirates. Having locked onto their trail, they were currently narrowing the search area to locate the pirate base.
After parting with Horus, a slight detour brought him into contact with the Emperor's Children Legion. Having risen like a phoenix from the ashes of the blight, the Emperor's Children wore magnificent purple-and-gold power armor, conquering the galaxy with a proud demeanor. When Blazkowicz visited the Legion, the Phoenician was employing his extraordinary charisma to bring a lost federation back into the Imperium's embrace without losing a single soldier.
The two drank and made merry. Fulgrim inquired about the frontline warfare, and Blazkowicz naturally told him everything he knew. Fulgrim spoke candidly, noting that as the frontline fighting grew increasingly intense, the tithes continued to rise, driving certain worlds to openly betray the Imperium. The Eighth Legion was striking out in all directions, yet they still could not suppress the winds of rebellion. To maintain basic stability in the deep rear, the Emperor's Children Legion was forced to split up—their main force continued the crusade, while detached fleets were sent to suppress uprisings.
Fulgrim himself yearned more for the conventional battlefields, finding the rebellions on the rear worlds particularly vexing to handle. Some worlds would betray the Imperium, only to surrender immediately the moment the Legion arrived, proactively handing over their planetary governor for public execution. Yet, not long after a new governor took office and the pacification fleet departed, they would rebel all over again. Then the pacification fleet would return to suppress them once more, and the planetary governor would again be tied to the stake by the populace...
The fleet arrives, the governor faces justice, the fleet departs, the planet rebels, and the fleet arrives again...
Deep within the Imperial interior, far removed from the xenos threat, many worlds repeatedly bounced between rebellion and submission, wasting the Imperium's military strength in an endless cycle of pacification. Yet they could not be left ignored, lest the infection of rebellion spread further.
Speaking of this, the noble Phoenician wore a face full of sorrow, gulping down large drafts of wine while sighing and shaking his head in helplessness. Blazkowicz listened quietly as his brother vented his frustrations, staying as a guest with the Emperor's Children for two days before departing. A brief gathering, followed by a mutual farewell.
On his way back, he visited several other critical locations, stopping and starting along the path. Two months after leaving Planet Five, he finally returned to the Nur Stars.
The fast vessel quietly entered the Gateway World through a star gate. The small craft slipped beneath a colossal transport ship without drawing any attention. As a major distribution hub for the Nur Stars, the Gateway System was incredibly busy. Ships moved in and out, fleets came and went, and the shipping lanes were choked with all manner of merchant caravans. The cargo bays of the transport ships were severely bloated, looking precisely like puffed-up pufferfish, their plasma engines breathing heavily as they pushed the cargo-laden vessels out of the Gateway System.
Following the scheduling directives, the fast vessel entered a dedicated high-speed lane, cutting through the busy system before passing through another star gate to head toward the core sector.
Blazkowicz's return did not disturb anyone. Leading a contingent of Stone Man artisans, he went straight to a hidden vault within the orbital ring. Passing through one defensive installation after another, the security system of this hidden vault could be considered the most complex in human possession. Without access clearance, no one could enter this place.
After countless authorizations were completed, the group stood before the ultimate vault doors, waiting for the adamantium gates embedded within the adamantium walls to open. This was a lengthy process; if someone attempted to breach this area without authorization, the adamantium vault would lock down completely or directly relocate via dimensional teleportation.
Hum... Hum...
A low, heavy drone rumbled continuously as electric motors drove the hydraulic systems, dragging the heavy doors that stood a thousand meters tall. The doors separated by hundreds of meters to the left and right as two squads of Night Sentinels took turns entering secret keys, opening the adamantium gates in phases. This massive portal was wide enough to allow several Titan engines to walk abreast, allowing an entire Legion to pass through without obstruction.
Once the gates were fully opened, the blue radiance of the dimensional barrier vanished, and the psychic runes carved upon the door face dimmed. The Night Sentinels stepped outward, making a gesturing motion to invite them inside.
Blazkowicz led the Stone Man artisans inside, stepping onto the polished floor and following the illuminated projection cues forward. The Stone Man artisans dared not dally, keeping close to the guiding light strips lit on the ground. With their keen sensitivity toward technology, they could naturally sense the boundless lethal intent woven into the vault. A single misstep would bring immediate destruction.
"Wait here."
Upon reaching the destination, Blazkowicz raised his hand to signal the team to halt, while he stepped forward alone. Before him stood a stone chamber, primitive and rough, utterly discordant with the various forbidden technologies displayed throughout the vault. Yet the Stone Men reacted as if facing a mortal enemy, standing together cautiously.
Blazkowicz walked into the electromagnetic force field, slid open a giant stone bolt from the stone door, and set it gently on the floor. Placing both hands against the rough stone surface of the door, he gradually applied force, using his sheer physical strength to push open the ten-thousand-ton stone gate.
He entered and shut the door behind him, his movements swift and precise, severing all connection between the inside and outside.
The room fell into absolute darkness. Blazkowicz walked along the stone wall until he reached the energy cells, connecting them to the stone chamber's power system.
Click—
As the power grid came online, his vision suddenly cleared. The furnishings inside the stone house were incredibly simple: a primitive tungsten filament bulb hung from the ceiling, and cables were neatly arranged on the floor. Aside from that, there were no other decorations or complex devices.
And right in the center of the stone chamber sat four intelligence cores.
They were the very reason Blazkowicz had rushed back to Nur from the front lines—the intelligence cores of the War Rings: the Slaughter Intelligences!
During those glorious years, the ancestors had constructed the War Rings to protect the Nur Stars, as well as to wage external wars. During the Cybernetic Revolt, the betrayers had spread a silicon-based virus within Nur's borders, dismantling the defenses of the Nur Stars. In the end, it was the four War Rings that had held the line against the incursions of the fallen machines.
The Slaughter Intelligences had suffered corruption from the silicon virus, falling into a slumber amidst madness, and their exact condition remained unknown. To ensure that the Imperium of Man still had the strength to continue the Great Crusade after the decisive battle with the Rangdan, Blazkowicz had resolved to reboot the Slaughter Intelligences, assess their degree of damage, and see if they could be integrated into the war effort.
Following the manual's sequence, Blazkowicz connected the energy cells to the power bases. Looking at the four spherical cores, his heart still felt somewhat apprehensive. The Rings of War were specialized entirely for conflict—sharp and immensely powerful. A single lapse in caution could invite disaster.
Before connecting the final conduit, he touched the circuit breaker at his waist, confirming everything was in order before cautiously plugging in the power supply line.
Hum—
The moment the energy flowed, an invisible ripple swept through the stone house, causing Blazkowicz's cloak to snap fiercely. The intelligence cores flared with a radiance that was blood-red and filled with aggression, entirely different from Sophia's gentle blue-and-white core.
Stripes of characters rotated across the surface of the cores. Despite Blazkowicz's extensive reading, he had no idea what kind of encoding program this was. He could only discern one detail: the wisdom code of the Slaughter Intelligences was fundamentally identical to Sophia's.
He raised his left arm to look at his gauntlet, confirming that the power supply to it was cut; right now, it was a dead object.
The stone chamber was dead silent as the wisdom cores retrieved data, awakening from their long slumber. However, Blazkowicz's expression grew increasingly grim. Within the shifting data streams, he saw flickering, fragmentation, and the collapse of logical chains.
The creations of the ancient ancestors were in a very poor state.
Witnessing the specific situation, Blazkowicz took the circuit breaker from his waist, prepared to press it at any second to cut off the energy supply.