This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 495 "The Great Uprising 2.0"

"You've gotten this far, you have to take the blame."

Every time Ramses got so stressed out about how to deal with the warp that he went bald, he couldn't help but complain to Arthur.

I've gotten to where I am now, and it's all thanks to this cold-faced but warm-hearted guy.

Back when they landed in the warp, after defeating Chaos, while everyone was still struggling to figure out what to do with their abilities, Arthur was the first to take the lead and make decisions, such as "Third Reich," "We are destined to be restless," "Might makes right," and "This world shouldn't be like this."
He got everyone really excited, and then they just charged ahead headfirst.

Their journey to Pierre began with a deal with Caul, which led them to the Inquisitor position. Later, through this connection with Caul and their ability to mass-produce gene seeds, they gained support and launched the Dawn Expedition.

Then, he encountered the fallen angels midway through the journey, dealt with the issue of the dark angels, and took over the rule of Astartes. Finally, with the divine assistance of Perturabo, he confirmed his identity and officially intervened in the Empire to begin an even larger plan.
It was all Arthur's doing, this cold-faced but warm-hearted guy, who set the tone.

Romulus is the kind of hamster that you can draw a circle for and it will run around in that circle by itself. When it is young, it is a school at all levels, and when it grows up, it can do its best in the workplace.
Karna is the kind of person who is positive, compassionate, but doesn't actively ask others for things. Just like when he went into the mountains alone without telling anyone, he felt that if he did, he would be showing off, even though everyone thought he was great. He felt that if he did, it would be like looking down on others.

Arthur, on the other hand, genuinely believed that some things were wrong and needed to be changed. He was right, and suggested that everyone should join him in building a business.

Everyone says that Ramses is the real idea genius, but he thinks Astor is.

"It's all here."

Facing his friends, Arthur didn't spout any arrogant or cool words, but instead chuckled and replied.

"Don't say that you were just joking back then."

Those who understood the joke immediately burst into laughter.

While still agonizing over the Emperor's problem, Ryan was completely distracted by the commotion and didn't understand what everyone was laughing about. He looked around and exchanged a glance with the cold-faced Corax. He couldn't help but sigh, feeling that a pitiful, thick barrier had already formed between them.

After passing through the long corridor, they arrived at the unattended, still clean and tidy hall. Arthur led the group to the windowsill, which was wide enough to accommodate a stormbird.

He reached out and touched the cold glass.

Back then, we were all huddled in a wrecked ship that had suffered a disastrous failure in its warp-space mission. The four of us found a few chairs, barely big enough to fit our bottoms, in the Navigator's Sanctuary, which was littered with corpses and debris, and decided the future of the entire ship.

Now, they have gathered here, offering each other their opinions, and are about to decide the future of the entire galaxy.

When everyone arrived at the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Makurag's Radiance, they looked out at the stars.

The rifts were distinct and vast, like a giant eye protruding from the bright center of the Milky Way; Badar was scarred and devastated, yet the side facing away from the star still shone brightly; in the wrecked space, countless spacecraft traversed the ruins, salvaging what had been destroyed by war, clearing safe passages for supply fleets.

Romulus gazed at the vast sea of ​​stars and couldn't help but sigh.

Strengthen yourself, and then change the things that you can't get used to.

The entire operational logic of Dawnwing has always revolved around this core.

What now?
"I really can't let go now."

The saying "With great power comes great responsibility" seemed too lofty to the time travelers, and they didn't need to impose such a requirement on others. However, the saying "With great power comes great responsibility" was generally accepted.

Now that they hold great power, can they still maintain the same determination they had back then to change the world?

They turned their heads and sized each other up.

It still stands out with its sharp edge.

Everyone wore their own unique smiles.

The arrival of the transmigrators was like a Godzilla thrown into a stagnant pool, causing the entire galaxy's situation to churn with their activity.

It's always been like this.

It's like a game where you can't save your progress. Ramses and Romulus are in charge of figuring out how to farm resources better, while Karna is in charge of figuring out how to use those resources to deal more damage.

Arthur gave them a goal to continue to grow stronger in this universe.

With a goal, everything becomes much clearer.

Initially, it's about developing the team. Once the team grows, it changes the situation. After the situation changes, it's about uniting more forces. After uniting more forces, it's about fighting against chaos. Maintaining the fight requires considering how to completely remove these festering sores embedded in the body of the real universe.

They need a plan.

They spent a hundred years accomplishing all of the above, and then they had the patience to spend another hundred years working toward a goal that would end everything.

It's not just the four members of Dawnwing; all other beings who truly belong to this universe must unite.

"Give me some time, I need to think about it."

Seeing everyone's gaze fall on him, Ryan, who was being bombarded with a series of worldview shocks, quickly raised his hand.

Everything still felt somewhat strange to him.

Clearly, his efforts had paid off, and his offspring had begun to genuinely respect him. He no longer needed to put on a sour face and offend all his brothers, but instead began to enjoy it all. The human empire, which had been on the verge of corruption, suddenly turned into a coffin, ready to rise again.

And now you're telling him that there's a huge rock on top of the coffin, and that the coffin lid is about to crack?
"No, I have a better way."

Ramses sent a message to the Inquisitor, who had already spent a century with the Wings of Dawn.
-
Rumble~
The rumble of the machinery seemed to never stop.

The manufacturing director of No. 130 was a veteran of the Badab Guardians named Kyle, who carefully examined a document handed to him.

He frowned and scanned them twice on the optical reader.

He had never seen such a document before, but the seal of the original was genuine.

"A vaguely defined 'apprentice,' with a signature, whose task is to collect reports for archival purposes?"

He muttered as he folded the documents, then looked at his deputy.

"What does this mean? They're using these credentials that allow them to move freely through the Guardian's Fortress just to come to this factory for this little thing?"

“I don’t understand. There are countless factories like this in Badab. Maybe they should interview Lord Huron instead.”

Hearing the director's complaints, the deputy put on a reserved smile.

"I understand, I understand. Don't make mistakes, face everything squarely."

The elderly man, with a full head of white hair but still in good health, complained and began to pack up his documents.

"While I'm away, you'll be in charge of coordinating production. Oh, and the medical team will arrive around 3 p.m. today. Before that, organize the wounded and have each group leader tally the number of wounded at each level."

"clear."

The deputy watched with a smile as the leader began his work.

“I have to look into this kind of thing myself. Sigh, who came up with such a strange name as ‘apprentice’? I don’t know what they want from my workers.”

Kyle put away the documents, stood up, put down his unfinished meal, and walked towards the door, muttering to himself from time to time.

"Our work is urgent, and time is very limited."

Rumble~
The girl, whom her fellow members of the Tracing Source Order called an 'apprentice,' had been waiting in front of the No. 130 Basic Manufacturing Plant for nearly an hour.

It seemed there was a problem with her permit, but the staff here clearly didn't have time to explain what the problem was at the moment. Workers, led by the technical team leader, thronged through the cold and pragmatic atrium.

She could hear industrial noise coming from behind the internal hatch: the clanging of conveyor assembly machines, the hum of lathes, and the regular beeping of safety alarms. The factory, which had been responsible for producing ammunition and armor plates during the war, was rapidly transforming to provide various chemicals and qualified steel plates for the reconstruction of surface cities.

She wanted to go in, but unfortunately, due to the intense war over the past year, there was a shortage of people in Badab. Specifically, even now, in front of a passageway at the No. 130 basic factory, the 'apprentice' could not get timely help.

Fortunately, when it was mealtime, thanks to the weakening of Nurgle's influence and the doomsday facilities that Badab had built underground long ago, even after the war, she, an outsider who did not produce anything, was able to get a full meal.

Click——

The apprentice unscrewed the lid of the lunchbox and discarded the fork and spoon at the bottom.

Puff~
The spoon with its pointed end easily pierced into the meat wrapped in layers of fat, causing oil to sizzle on the surface of the soup.

The other compartment contained dried and compressed bread slices that instantly expanded upon contact with oil and water.

The lunchbox is filled with foods high in fat, carbohydrates, and protein, and vitamin tablets are prominently displayed in the container, making it easy to swallow whole with the food.

Perhaps going to the restaurant first and interviewing the workers who have breaks seems like a good starting point.

As she chewed the exceptionally soft and sticky rice, a sense of happiness welled up within her, beyond the energy boost, as she ingested high-quality food through her mouth, and she thought to herself.

The Order of Origins—now known as the Department of Origins of Human History—was led by the High Inquisitor Aglaia Hesikood, who recounted the entire campaign, urging them to seek out ordinary people, workers, and soldiers and listen to their stories—those small tales often overlooked in the grand narratives of the galaxy.

Approximately 100,000 people worked at the 130th Basic Manufacturing Plant, one of the main arms factories of the Badab Guardian Fortress Complex. It pumped countless munitions and equipment to the outermost Verdun district during the hundred-day tug-of-war and supported the Badab Guardians in winning this local battle.

Creak~
The faint sound of the chair being moved reached the 'apprentice's' ears.

She quickly looked up at the faint disturbance that was appearing ahead.

A knight from the Grey Knights strode into the central courtyard from the factory yard. Instinctively, the apprentice assumed that these silver knights, who often loitered around her and looked at her with strange eyes, had come to solve her passage problem.

But not.

The Grey Knight, now hardly a secret in the Empire, made his way through the crowd, approaching the apprentice amidst the awe-inspiring gazes and devout prayers of those seeking power against evil.

This person wore a laurel wreath and was a fraternity captain, quite different from the plain-looking knights who usually guarded her. The 'apprentice' knew that these members usually took direct orders from Lord Ramses and, for some reason, had maintained a competitive relationship with the Imperial Guard for quite some time.

"Sir."

She said, "Could you..."

She used honorifics.

The atmosphere around them froze instantly.

"not now."

The fraternity company commander shuddered, then quickly knelt on one knee, pounded his chest in salute, and forced himself to remain calm as he spoke.

"but……"

Looking at the gray knight, who was still a head taller than him even when crouching, the 'apprentice' hesitated.

Although she knew about her special status, the 'apprentice' was actually quite satisfied with her current situation, as she was still able to live her own life. However, she felt that staying here indefinitely was not a good idea, and the Grey Knight's privilege was that he could go wherever he wanted.

She wouldn't mind using these guys who liked to spy on her when necessary and harmless.

"I really can't do that now."

The fraternity company commander shook his head, signaling her to stay where she was. He then spoke a few words to an inspector, who immediately crossed out the 'apprentice's' application.

"Hey!"

The apprentice was very dissatisfied.

"Lord Ramses requests your presence."

"The Brotherhood company commander said in a low voice. Upon hearing this, the 'apprentice' immediately put aside his displeasure and followed the Grey Knight through the crowd."

The brief disturbance ended.

"God back."

Kyle glanced at the monitor and took the other party's file records.

The young man was studying his chosen schedule before he arrived.

Kyle turned his head again and looked back at the group of people.

He glanced at the rest of the people.

"Alright, let's begin our history."

He said he would let the brief episode pass.

The surrounding crowd returned to normal.

With reminders from their coworkers, the workers quickly finished their meals and, led by their team leader, switched shifts with the group that had finished their night shift. The workers who were off work quickly took over the canteen and, after filling their stomachs, headed to the rest area or the church area.

People either pick up tools or regain their strength, and then set about building the next tomorrow.
-
Guilliman strode along the glittering corridor, meeting the reverent gazes of countless Ultramarines. The heavy, gleaming gold soles of his boots struck the smooth, mirror-like marble floor with a resounding clang that seemed utterly out of place with the surrounding glitz and glamour.

His face was not covered by armor, and he looked slightly somber. Even the Space Marines could only look up at his tightly pursed lips and strong jawline. His brows were deliberately kept calm, like a frozen lake, without a ripple.

However, the eyes that quickly scanned the surroundings, searching for familiar figures, betrayed the anxiety hidden beneath.

He tried to control his breathing, which was slightly heavy from walking quickly, and attempted to make each step appear steady.

However, his significantly faster pace than normal, and the rapid scraping sound of his arm armor brushing against his skirt armor, betrayed his efforts to maintain composure. The knuckles of his hands, which were deliberately hidden in his iron gauntlets, also appeared pale from the continuous slight exertion.

Finally, he locked onto his target: the Primarch Council of the Makragora.

Guilliman quickened his pace again, his heavy body like a warship cutting through the waves, parting the pervasive fragrance and respectful words, heading straight for his companions.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

He stood in front of his companion, his slightly heaving breastplate indicating that his breathing had not yet fully calmed down.

He took a deep breath, moved closer, and deliberately slowed down the pace of his speech, trying to make his voice sound steady and normal.
"What on earth is going on? Why is it suddenly going to escalate—why is it suddenly going to attack Father?"

He paused, because he really couldn't find any good words.

The main problem is how can Guilliman believe this? The emperor who ascended the throne and protected humanity for thousands of years is now the biggest threat to the empire. Our next goal is to eliminate him.

Unless the Emperor himself told his sons to kill him, Guilliman would definitely have a good talk with his brothers about it.

Then, as Guilliman stepped forward, he saw the draft that had already been laid out on the table amidst the discussion.

The titles of a series of plans, such as "Further develop military equipment and build up the Legion", "Recover the lost Primarch", "Develop the Webway", "Eliminate the aliens entrenched throughout the galaxy", "Further expand the living space for humanity", "Gradually decouple from the forces influenced by the Emperor", "Reach a consensus with the lost Primarch", and "Go to Terra to end the Emperor's ascension to godhood", made his vision go black.

No, man.

He exchanged a glance with Ryan.

The fearless lion responded with a look of despair.

What could he do? Once the target was set, the Dawnwings, having nothing better to do, all started getting things done.

Do we really want to do it again?

"Let the Emperor explain it to you."

Ramses pointed to Aglaia and the 'apprentice' who had been captured halfway through their work.

"Father?"

It was no secret that Guilliman knew the 'Apprentice', a figure among the higher-ups at his level; everyone knew that the Emperor could use her to interfere with reality.

But all of this comes at a price; each time, the little girl has to rest for a long time to repair the damage the Emperor's psionic energy has done to her body and soul.

"Do you think that human lord can be summoned at will—"

Before Guilliman could finish speaking, the 'apprentice's' eyes lit up with a golden light, and his entire demeanor changed in an instant.

The lion and Corax's expressions changed, and they immediately bowed.

"."

Guilliman covered his face and took a step back, as if he had really been slapped.

He followed Ryan and the others' movements.

Seeing the Primarchs looking like mice before a cat, Ramses raised an eyebrow, striking a pose as if he wanted to imitate Guilliman and the others.

The Emperor quickly retreated.

They seemed terrified that the Dawnwings would withdraw from the human empire tomorrow because the 'Emperor' had not respected their human rights.

The members of Dawnwing immediately began to suppress their laughter, as the pressure from the unpredictable future dissipated considerably.

However, the 'Emperor' remained silent.

At first, Ramses thought the old man was trying to show off in front of his sons, but then he realized that there seemed to be a huge shielding device here.

Ramses glanced at Arthur.

Arthur immediately took thirteen steps back.

Ryan, who had been hiding behind the crowd, also retreated with them.

Others may not know what the Emperor is like now, but he has truly experienced the Emperor's changes and has been tormented for ten thousand years under the increasingly frenzied and chaotic cold sun. He really doesn't want to face this living father anymore.

"of course."

Only then did the 'Emperor' speak formally.

He stared at Guilliman.

“I’d be happy to explain.”

Even though he didn't open his mouth, the sound still reached everyone's ears.

Except for Arthur.

Looking at Arthur, who only received the voice of the 'Emperor' after Ramses repeated it.

The Emperor nodded in satisfaction.

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(End of this chapter)