Outside of the ship, the majestic steel architecture of the Lion's Gate was slowly receding.
The transport ship's thrusters began to spool up, sending a low, rumbling hum vibrating through the bulkheads. Through the glass, the massive berths, darting voidships, and forest of mechanical loading arms all started to shrink away.
"The transport is preparing for departure. All passengers, please secure your restraints," a digitized voice chimed over the intercom.
Vance leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
The transport ship shuddered slightly as it disconnected from the docking clamps. Out in the void, a massive fleet was slowly reorienting itself, charting a course for deep space.
When they passed the Voss Forge World, their ship would quietly break off from the main armada.
And then... they were going to infiltrate the planet.
All to dig up cold, hard proof that an Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus was embezzling Imperial resources.
"...And come back alive."
Vance opened his eyes and looked at the players who were still excitedly debating.
[Love Me Some Grox Meat] was busy sharing his intel with the rest of the squad, muttering non-stop: "I'm telling you guys, I've thoroughly researched this op. The Voss Forge World is deep Mechanicus territory. Endless Skitarii, swarms of servitors. Thirty of us walking in there is like throwing meat into a woodchipper."
[Never Yield to the Blade] chimed in, "No kidding! The Emperor's got some serious balls, sending thirty of us to kick over an Archmagos's anthill."
[Dedicate My Heart to the Emperor]: "I get the feeling I'm gonna die a lot on this run..."
[Sanguinius's Little Vampire]: "So what if we die? It's not like we haven't died before. For the power armor! For the Emperor! For the Imperium of Man! For the Aquila! Loyalteee!"
[Hey Kid Need a Job Room and Board Included]: "Loyalteee! We absolutely gotta do this!!"
The chat instantly spammed a massive wall of "Loyalteee!"
Vance watched these clowns, his smirk deepening. They talked a big game about being scared of dying, but deep down, they were already prepared to wipe ten thousand times if they had to.
That was exactly what made them players. That was the Fourth Scourge.
An Archmagos of the Mechanicus? Skitarii? Servitor legions? To this fearless mob of respawning lunatics... they were all just walking piñatas stuffed with Imperial Coins.
He suddenly remembered something and dropped a quick message in the channel: "Oh, by the way, the Archmagos of that Forge World isn't the legendary Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl. So don't stress too much."
The channel went dead quiet for a second.
Then, [Love Me Some Grox Meat] was the first to reply: "Bro, why didn't you say so earlier?! If it's not that old freak Cawl, who gives a shit! Let's wreck him!!"
[Never Yield to the Blade]: "Voss Forge World! Archmagos! Here I come!"
[Dedicate My Heart to the Emperor]: "Boys, if we clear this op, think we'll score some power armor too?"
[I Wanna Marry the Emperor's Bride]: "Guaranteed! An op handed down personally by the Emperor? The loot drops are gonna be insane!"
The transport ship's engines roared to a deafening pitch. Outside the porthole, the majestic silhouette of the Lion's Gate grew further and further away, until it faded into a dim speck of light swallowed by the endless sea of stars.
--
Aurelian IV, Dawn City.
Night had fully fallen. But the city didn't sink into darkness. Quite the opposite—when the crimson and silver moons simultaneously rose into the night sky, the entire metropolis lit up.
Endless lanterns hung from the buildings lining the streets, bathing every alleyway in a warm, daylight-bright glow. The lanterns came in all shapes and sizes. There were traditional round palace lanterns, lifelike animal figures, and special custom ones carved with the Crimson Dawn crest.
Light filtered through colored silk, casting vibrant, dancing patterns across the pavement.
The streets were absolutely packed. Sharply dressed citizens gathered in small, cheerful groups. Some were solving lantern riddles, others watched elaborate street performances, and many just strolled hand-in-hand, soaking in the rare joy of a peaceful reunion night.
The air was thick with the smell of amazing food. Freshly baked mooncakes were stacked high on pop-up stalls, their various fillings giving off an intoxicatingly sweet aroma in the rising steam. Skewers of candied fruit glistened like red glass under the lights as kids waved them around, chasing each other through the dense crowds.
Further down the street, folk artists were putting on a shadow puppet show. Lifelike silhouettes danced across a white canvas, acting out ancient legends. Even further away, a troupe of dancers in traditional garb twirled across a public plaza, surrounded by a cheering, clapping audience.
Right in the middle of all this bustling festivity, one specific group stuck out like a sore thumb. They were dressed in uniform Imperial Auxilia fatigues, standing frozen in the crowd with their heads tilted back, eyes wide open, just staring at everything.
These were players from the Blood Angels' Imperial Faction. They had been granted special clearance to enter Aurelian with Cogboy's explicit approval. Imperial faction players weren't mortal enemies of Crimson Dawn, so there was no need to treat them with extreme paranoia.
As for Chaos faction players? They couldn't even make it past the orbital elevators guarded by Crimson Dawn players.
[Regional Channel (Light of the Imperium)]
[We Blood Ravens Never Steal]: "Holy shit..."
[The Stars of Baal are Twinkling]: "Holy shit..."
[Nurgle's Cookhouse Squad Leader]: "Holy shit..."
[Who in the Hall is Suing This Official]: "Can you guys say literally anything else?"
[We Blood Ravens Never Steal]: "I don't freaking know what else to say! Is this... is this actually the Warhammer universe??"
He pointed at the lantern-lined street ahead. He pointed at the locals laughing over riddles, and the vendor gently handing a stick of candied fruit to a toddler. "Is this the grimdark Warhammer I know??"
[The Stars of Baal are Twinkling] swallowed hard. "This holiday vibe... I'm so jealous I could cry. Did I freaking log out into the real world?"
[Nurgle's Cookhouse Squad Leader] shook his head, his voice a little dazed. "No, real-world Mid-Autumn Festivals don't even have this kind of vibe. When was the last time you saw this many people celebrating together in reality? Everyone's just scrolling on their damn phones. Real life isn't even a fraction as lively as the internet."
[Who in the Hall is Suing This Official] fell silent. He looked at the people around him. People with genuine, heartfelt smiles plastered across their faces. People warmly greeting each other, exchanging blessings, and sharing food. People who were supposedly just NPCs, yet somehow lived far more authentically than most folks back on Earth.
His throat bobbed. "They look like... they're genuinely happy."
[We Blood Ravens Never Steal]: "Not 'look like'. They are happy. Look at the lady selling the candied fruit, she's beaming like a sunflower."
[The Stars of Baal are Twinkling]: "And the bro grilling the lamb skewers is straight-up humming a tune!"
[Nurgle's Cookhouse Squad Leader]: "And the kids are running around like maniacs, and the parents don't even care, they're just watching and smiling... Is this the world the closed beta players built?"
[We Blood Ravens Never Steal] muttered, "It looks like they really lived up to the quote on the Door of Dawn... Martyrs, saving humanity, bringing dawn to mankind, building a utopia... They actually managed to carve out a pure sanctuary in this shithole of a Warhammer universe. Holy crap..."
[The Stars of Baal are Twinkling] sounded a little choked up. "That's incredible. That's just so freaking incredible."
[Nurgle's Cookhouse Squad Leader] stayed quiet for a few seconds before speaking up slowly. "Damn it. Once I grind enough rep and hoard enough Imperial Coins... if I ever make it to Planetary Governor in the Imperium... I'm going to build a utopia just like this."
His voice hardened into absolute resolve. "Maybe I don't have what it takes to save this entire garbage-fire galaxy. But I will do whatever it takes to build a planet exactly like this one. Even if it's just a single hive city... even if it's just one city block... I want the people who believe in me to live exactly like this."
The chat went completely quiet for a second.
Then, [We Blood Ravens Never Steal] was the first to reply: "Call me when you do."
[The Stars of Baal are Twinkling]: "+1"
[Who in the Hall is Suing This Official]: "+2"
[I Only Want Catachan]: "+10000"
[Nurgle's Cookhouse Squad Leader] looked at the flood of replies, a faint smile touching his lips.
--
They continued walking through the vibrant crowd. Watching the kids run by waving their glowing lanterns. Watching the young couples huddled warmly together under the trees.
They watched the elderly folks sitting on park benches, gazing up at the twin moons with peaceful smiles on their faces. They brushed shoulders with Aurelian locals who just smiled and nodded in greeting, treating them not like alien outsiders, but like welcomed guests from afar.
Some kids even ran right up to them, offering them mooncakes and piping up in sweet, innocent voices, "Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, mister!" before giggling and running off.
[We Blood Ravens Never Steal] stared at the mooncake resting in his hands, completely speechless for a long time.
[The Stars of Baal are Twinkling] rubbed at his eyes, which had gotten noticeably red.
[Nurgle's Cookhouse Squad Leader] took a deep breath and tilted his head up to the sky.
Up above, the Crimson Moon and the Silver Moon were slowly rising. Shifting from sharp crescents to full, glowing spheres, they showered the entire city in a wash of silver light.
--
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