The outcome of the Horus Heresy was the product of a game between the Emperor and the Chaos Gods.
It served the role of an anchor, fixing fate onto a predetermined path, binding both sides together, and preventing interference with the past.
How the nameless one was able to travel through time at will, change the past, and yet pay no price at all remained a mystery.
The Four Chaos Gods and the Emperor appeared to be gritting their teeth, yet they were completely powerless.
The Emperor was still the Emperor. Even the Emperor of thirty thousand years ago had always ruled based on reason.
He had heaped sharp criticism upon the nameless man, but in the end he swallowed his words for the sake of his own plans.
Mortarion was extremely satisfied with the reforms and policies implemented on Barbarus.
Overall, the Fourteenth was very useful.
Horus, Leman Russ, Mortarion — these were the true Primarchs he had carefully created.
They were all overflowing with devotion to humanity, possessed strong senses of justice and responsibility, and were outstanding individuals in every respect.
If no one had interfered, they would have been even more perfect.
The 30K Emperor, like an incompetent father, silently accepted the fact that yet another son had become a nameless existence.
...
Mortarion was taken away from Barbarus by the Emperor.
Together with the Primarch, the Death Guard led by Calas Typhon also departed.
They were all battle-hardened veterans, subordinates to whom Mortarion could entrust his own life.
After boarding the Emperor's Dream, Calas Typhon and the others began undergoing gene-modification surgeries in preparation for becoming Space Marines.
The modification surgeries were performed in the medical area of the ship, which was equipped with comprehensive surgical facilities.
Furthermore, because all of this was handled by biological Magi belonging to the Mechanicus, they achieved the highest success rate.
Mortarion stood beside the observation window and watched Typhon enter the operating room.
Once the transformation was complete, Typhon and the others were sent into medical pods filled with nutrient solution and then transferred to a dome-shaped room to await metamorphosis.
The room was surrounded by transparent cylindrical cultivation chambers filled with pale blue nutrient solution, where the modified Space Marines lay in a dormant state.
On the transparent partitions, data such as heart rate, blood pressure, genetic compatibility, and the risk of organ rejection were displayed one after another.
"They are extremely adaptable."
"The soldiers of your country have far higher tolerance for the surgery than the average soldier."
The Mechanicus Magos standing beside Mortarion had most of his body replaced by machinery. The only remaining human part was a pair of cloudy gray eyes.
He carefully examined all the data and surgical procedures and discovered that the transformation success rate of the Barbarusians was far higher than that of other planets.
Although reconstruction surgery had advanced considerably, the mortality rate was still high.
However, for the people of Barbarus, the mortality rate was surprisingly low.
Mortarion remained silent and simply stared at Typhon and the other Death Guard inside the medical room.
He could probably guess that Typhon and his group would have a higher surgical success rate than other groups.
This was likely due to the training they had received during the Barbarus campaign.
Thanks to their unique toxic-gas training, the warriors of Barbarus were more resistant to pain than the warriors of most other worlds.
"It was fortunate that they were not fully remodeled."
Mortarion felt a sense of relief.
He had preserved the original toxic-gas environment of Barbarus in desolate regions and used them as experimental grounds.
Afterward, these toxic-gas fields would be used for training candidates, increasing their resilience and resistance to toxins.
Mortarion was not immediately permitted to take command of the Legion. He was first required to learn the Imperial Truth.
Thus the Primarch was forced to sit in the library of the Emperor's Dream, immersing himself in the history of the crusade, the Emperor's sayings, Imperial law, and the records of countless conquered planets.
Light poured down from the luminous panels overhead, casting a cold white glow on the edges of the data-slates.
At the same time, he also carefully examined information on the Fourteenth Legion — its organization, tactical systems, supply lines, the backgrounds of successive company captains, and the records of each battle.
The Primarch functioned like an advanced scanner, absorbing this information page by page into his brain and deepening his understanding of the Fourteenth Legion.
The Fourteenth Legion had been named the "Dusk Raiders" because they preferred to launch surprise attacks on enemy targets during that time of day.
Because there was no Primarch, this Legion could not be said to have achieved outstanding military feats. It could only be described as an ordinary Legion with nothing particularly noteworthy.
Thus Mortarion remained for a while aboard the Imperial Dream.
At that time, Antathus Barasin, a company captain of the Dusk Raiders, came wanting to meet his true father.
When Barasin entered the library, Mortarion was looking down at a data-slate concerning colonial-era genetic modification technology.
"My lord." Barasin stood at attention and pressed his right fist against his chest.
Mortarion set down the data-slate, raised his face, and stared intently at the company captain.
The other person had a scar running diagonally from forehead to jaw. His left eye was a mechanical prosthetic, its red optical lens faintly glowing in the dim light.
His power armor still bore numerous traces of war.
This was an elite veteran.
Mortarion made a judgment in his heart and stood up to show respect.
"Captain Barasin, it is an honor to meet you."
"I feel the same. The entire Legion is waiting for you and looks forward to fighting for you."
Barasin spoke with sincere earnestness, but in reality many people were bewildered by the return of the Primarch.
The warriors of the Dusk Raiders Legion were mainly from the Albia region of Terra.
Each company of the Dusk Raiders Legion was relatively independent due to its customs and combat style, and did not rely on superiors.
Many people were bewildered by the revival of the Primarchs, because the Legion had functioned perfectly well without a Primarch.
I have not made any particularly large contributions, but since I am regarded as average level, there is nothing shameful about it.
Mortarion recognized this situation, yet he was confident that he could change the Dusk Raiders and win everyone's respect.
"I also look forward to fighting together with you, but your Emperor, my father, says that I am not yet ready to take command of the Fourteenth Legion, so we must wait a little longer."
"Understood." Barasin was a little disappointed, but at the same time somewhat relieved.
"Although I cannot formally take over the Legion yet, shall we first discuss future plans?" Mortarion invited Barasin to take a seat in order to discuss the future of the Legion.
The first thing Mortarion wanted to do was change his own name.
The name Death Guard was changed from Dusk Raiders in order to increase the warriors' sense of authority and belonging.
Barasin raised no objection. After all, the formal commander of the Legion was Mortarion, and he had the right to do so.
Next, Mortarion revised the core principles and ideology of the Legion so that he himself could easily command it.
...
Barasin was not the only one who came to meet Mortarion.
Horus and Leman Russ were greatly delighted when they learned that another brother trained by the nameless ones had returned to the Imperium.
They hurriedly wrapped up their missions and set out for the Emperor's Dream, eager to meet their brother as soon as possible.
"My brother, Mortarion."
Horus, who had just boarded the Imperial Dream by shuttle, saw from a distance that Mortarion was coming to greet him and extending his hand.
"Are you Horus?" Mortarion said and shook hands.
"Yes, I am Horus of Cthonia."
Horus smiled as he looked at his brother.
"I heard that you saw the nameless one?"
"You too," Mortarion retorted.
Horus nodded. "He changed my fate."
"He also changed my fate." Mortarion's favorable impression of Horus rose significantly.
Anyone who had received direct guidance from Nameless One was certainly trustworthy.
At that moment, another shuttle entered the runway.
When the hatch opened, Leman Russ stepped out, saw Horus and Mortarion, and grinned.
After finishing their self-introductions, the three Primarchs left the hangar side by side in search of a place where they could talk through the night.
They spoke about their respective homeworlds and what those planets had been like before the arrival of the nameless ones.
Then they spoke about how, after the arrival of the nameless ones, the planets had become prosperous and everyone had been able to obtain good food and clothing.
It could be said that wherever the nameless people went, the light of salvation shone.
They spoke of the achievements of the nameless ones and occasionally added words of praise for them.
The conversation of the three Primarchs shifted from the nameless ones to their respective Legions.
Then the focus moved from the Legions to the Emperor's Great Crusade, and finally to each of their visions of the future.
Imperial Army Commander Valdor stood in the monitoring room and used cameras to monitor the three Primarchs in the reception room.
Valdor watched intently for ten minutes as the three Primarchs surrounded the topic of the nameless one and clearly displayed their reverence and affection for him.
This made Valdor uneasy, because the Primarchs were worshipping the nameless ones more than the Emperor.
Eventually, this Imperium would take the form of that nameless figure.
Realizing this, Valdor immediately went to the Emperor and reported the situation.
At that time, the Emperor was alone in the study of the Dream Ship, reviewing the upcoming war plans.
Thanks to his position as a member of the Imperial Guard, Valdor was able to enter the study easily.
Hearing the commotion, the Emperor turned toward the captain of the Guard who had entered and showed a puzzled expression.
"Valdor, what is it?"
"Your Majesty, I have come to report the situation. Numbers Sixteen, Fourteen, and Six…"
Valdor then recounted the entire sequence of events.
Seeing that the Emperor appeared moved, he continued, "If this continues, in the future the recognition of the nameless ones within the Imperium will probably surpass you."
At Valdor's words the Emperor remained silent for a long time before finally opening his mouth. "Leave them alone."
"It is not important who the ruler of the Imperium of Man is. What is important is whether humanity can win this war."
"Your Majesty…" Valdor's voice was urgent. "The Imperium is Your Majesty's life's work."
"Valdor, I have more important matters," the Emperor said in a troubled tone.
"The most important task right now is to unify the galaxy, buy time, and repair the Webway. It is not to worry about whether that nameless one will seize the highest power of the Imperium."
"As long as Numbers Sixteen, Fourteen, and Six conquer the planets that refuse to submit according to my orders and complete my plans, I do not care what those fellows do."
Who told me to hurry and buy time to unify the galaxy and repair the Webway?!
In this situation, what else can I do but endure?
Judging from their respective homeworlds, the three Primarchs did not seem to have major problems.
As long as they behaved properly and carried out the Webway project, the Imperium could maintain it however it liked.
Once the work was finished, he would leave together with Malcador and Valdor to walk their own lives.
Whoever becomes Emperor is fine with me. It has nothing to do with me.
...
The TARDIS phone box traveled through the flow of time. Within it, countless fragments of time flashed back.
Datch followed the instructions of the minimap, operated the console, and headed toward Detroit.
At the same time, he was searching the database for information concerning the planet Detroit.
Detroit was a very remote planet with no important shipping routes.
However, precisely because of that remoteness, this planet had been chosen by the Iron Men and synthetic life-forms as a secret sanctuary.
"I never imagined that Detroit would become a sanctuary for the Iron Men and synthetics."
Datch was a little surprised by the information he had discovered.
"It seems the target of this operation is still either Number Two or Number Eleven."
"Was the Primarch who fell on Detroit brainwashed by the Iron Men and Synths?"
"After returning to the Imperium, he became a die-hard anti-humanist and tried to completely eradicate humanity and hand the universe over to robots."
"Enough. There's no point overthinking it. Let's go see what's happening."
Datch shook his head to clear away distracting thoughts and concentrated on operating the TARDIS.
The TARDIS moved at high speed through the time tunnel. As it approached the destination,
a portal of light appeared inside the tunnel. Entering it, they arrived at Detroit.
After the TARDIS landed safely, they opened the door and stepped outside.
Datch and Ferrus were astonished by the scene that appeared before their eyes.
This was a futuristic science-fiction world.
Countless silver-white buildings floated in the air, supported by anti-gravity fields, like a school of sleeping whales.
Their surfaces were as smooth as mirrors, reflecting one another's forms and emitting a cold luster.
Between the buildings, streamlined aircraft came and went like schools of fish.
Their flight paths left pale blue trails of light in the air, interweaving to form a net of light that covered the entire sky.
Elaborate projections floated in midair, displaying various social news.
The streamlined aircraft flew in orderly fashion according to plan, like dense schools of fish, traveling back and forth between the buildings.
Datch and Ferrus stepped out of the TARDIS phone box and were about to head toward their destination relying on the minimap.
However, before they had gone very far, alarms began sounding all around them.
Several dozen seconds later, several aircraft flew over and landed quietly around them.
The hatches slid open, and fully armed Iron Man warriors appeared holding weapons.
"Intruders." The leader of the Iron Men spoke in a synthetic voice that conveyed no emotion whatsoever. "Discard your weapons and accept the judgment of the Tribunal."
Ferrus tried to resist, but Datch grabbed his arm and shook his head.
Then he turned around and surrendered to the iron men.
Datch could do nothing about it. He had noticed that exclamation marks were displayed above the heads of the iron statues, indicating that they were all story NPCs.
Being arrested was also part of the plot.
All we can do is accept it.
Hopefully this time we will be able to see the figure of the Primarch who fell on Detroit.