Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 601 A Declaration to the Galaxy

The starry sky above Vulcan's Hammer has never appeared so "clean".

In orbit, the remaining ships of the Steel Hand fleet, like silent hounds, continued their final mopping-up operations. Occasional bursts of light were the final farewells of fleeing orc wreckage, reduced to dust by light spears or macro cannons. Those flashes were brief yet blinding, like festering wounds in the starry sky being scorched and instantly solidified by intense heat. On the surface, the cleanup continued, but the main fighting was over. The crisis at the STC Temple was over, most civilians were evacuated, and survivors began emerging from their shelters to face their ravaged homes. The smoke of battle had not yet completely dissipated; massive craters and collapsed fortifications, like scars on the planet, silently narrated the cruelty of war.

On the command bridge of the "Iron Will," Felus Manus gazed out the main observation window at the planet gradually returning to calm. Her right arm, covered in "Gorgon Skin," hung naturally, the liquid metal flowing slowly, reflecting starlight, as if still carrying the lingering aura of battle. Data streams on the control console constantly refreshed, reporting post-war assessments and resource statistics for various regions, but her gaze extended to a much farther place—not just this star system, but the future of the entire Imperium.

“A clean and decisive victory.” Felus’s deep, clear voice broke the silence of the bridge. Her gaze remained fixed on the Vulcan Hammer. “A victory that will resonate throughout every corner of the Imperium. The Iron Hand has not fallen; instead, under the leadership of Gorgon, it has returned in a new guise, crushing the alien wave that threatened the Imperium’s world. This news itself is a sharp weapon.”

She turned around, her metallic face appearing cold and resolute in the light from the control panel, and looked at Chen Xi, who had been standing silently in the shadows to the side. The presence of that judge seemed to blend into the dimness of the bridge, with only the scarlet rose emblem on the hem of her robe occasionally flashing a glimmer of light.

"It's time, Chen Xi. It's time for the Galaxy to know that Feralus Manus has returned. The Empire needs this news, needs to know that there is more than just betrayal and despair; there are Primarchs who have returned, still fighting for humanity. This will buy them a decade or so, allowing them to gather more courage before darkness descends. What do you think?"

Chen Xi slowly emerged from the shadows, the scarlet rose emblem on his judge's robe gleaming darkly in the cold light of the bridge. His expression remained as calm as ever, like a deep pool, undisturbed. His steps were steady and silent, as if he were already accustomed to weighing and judging in such situations.

“Indeed. The Empire needs a shot in the arm, especially now, when fear and heretical thought are festering and spreading within it like festering sores.” Chen Xi’s voice was steady and clear, carrying his characteristic calmness, as if reviewing files. “The news of your return is undoubtedly a lightning bolt piercing the decaying night, its light enough to rekindle hope in countless worlds. But, Felus…”

He paused deliberately, his gaze meeting Ferrus's eyes, which held the fire of a furnace, with the precision of a scalpel.

"...Are you prepared not only to deal with the Emperor's enemies, but also with the open and covert attacks from within the 'Imperial Family'? Are you ready to face those who believe they control the lifeline of the Empire in that supreme palace atop Holy Terra?"

“The Highlord Council.” Felus’s tone was thoughtful, not simply dismissive. “A bunch of politicians whose bones have been softened by power and tedious rituals. Ten thousand years ago, most of them could only see the interests right under their noses. Chen Xi, in your opinion, ten thousand years from now, do they really dare to stop the return of a Primarch? The Empire is the Emperor’s Empire, and we are his sons.”

“The Empire is the Emperor’s Empire, that’s true.” Chen Xi nodded slightly, but the meaning behind his words was completely different. “But ten thousand years is enough to change many things. The High Lords Council is no longer the institution that carried out the Emperor’s will during the Emperor’s era. Their humans have controlled the highest power of the Empire for too long, so long that they have long forgotten why the Empire exists, and even forgotten who gave them the power to eke out a living in the darkness.”

His voice gradually turned cold, like a cold steel needle piercing through the barrier of past understanding in Ferrus's words.

"In their view, the power of the Empire should, and must, belong to them—to the governance of 'humans,' not to the command of 'superhumans.' The Astartes Order is seen by them as a military threat that is difficult to control, a beast that may seize their power. Therefore, they try to restrict it in every way, attempting to divide it with the Astartes Codex and shackle it with administrative orders. So, what about the Primarch?"

Chen Xi took a small step forward, his gaze sharp.

"A living legend, a direct descendant of the imperial bloodline, possessing undisputed prestige and absolute command over at least one Astartes legion. Do you think those high lords who have come to regard power as their own possession will gladly welcome your return and willingly hand over their authority? No, they will not. They will be fearful, suspicious, and see you as the greatest threat in history, one that could completely overturn the power structure they have built up over millennia."

"There's no need for assumptions; the facts are right before our eyes." Chen Xi's voice was cold and hard, devoid of any euphemism. "Soon afterward, when the Great Rift tore open the galaxy and Robert Guilliman awoke from his long slumber and returned to Holy Terra, the High Lords' reaction was the clearest answer. They were utterly devoid of loyalty and obedience."

"They arrogantly regarded the returned Primarch as a symbol to be used, a living statue of a warlord whose only purpose was to decorate the throne room and legitimize their corrupt rule. In their eyes, Guilliman was nothing more than a slightly larger Astartes, a high-ranking henchman who should be at their beck and call. When he was forced to assume the position of regent and attempt to pull the Empire back from the brink of collapse with an iron fist, the Highlords Council chose to betray him."

His words were like a cold, unquestionable verdict.

"They openly plotted a rebellion. They would rather plunge the Empire into deeper internal strife, rather make a deal with the shadow of chaos, than reclaim the power that 'rightfully belongs to them' from the Primarchs. This is your 'comrade' ten thousand years from now, Felus Manus. This is the 'welcome' you will face—they will not see you as a commander, but only as a beast in need of taming or an obstacle that must be removed."

Felus fell silent. Outside the bridge, an orc wrecked satellite was struck by a purifying torpedo, turning into a fireball that briefly expanded before rapidly dissipating. Her facial muscles twitched slightly beneath the metal, the boiling rage in her eyes not directed at the orcs, but at this nauseating political reality.

When she spoke again, her voice was like ice shattering, filled with long-suppressed anger and undisguised contempt.

“The Highlord Council…” she repeated the word, each syllable seemingly ground out from between her teeth. “I built this empire alongside the Emperor, Chen Xi. I witnessed humanity’s most glorious rise, and I personally purified worlds from the pollution of aliens and chaos. We shed blood and sacrificed our lives, we conquered the stars, not to hand over power to a bunch of bureaucrats hiding in the depths of Terra’s palace, who only know how to play power games and pursue empty titles.”

Her right arm, covered in Gorgon skin with flowing metal, seemed to sense its owner's emotions, its surface rippling, vaguely revealing the ferocious outline of a warhammer.

“You’re right, Chen Xi. Ten thousand years… ten thousand years is enough for termites to gnaw at the foundations of the empire, for those who have never faced the horrors of the depths of the starry sea to arrogantly believe that politics and official documents are the essence of rule.” Her cold laugh seemed particularly hard against her metallic face. “They use ink and parchment to demarcate their territories, and edicts and regulations to bind the hands and feet of their warriors, yet they do not know that the true borders of the empire are maintained by blood and explosives!”

Felus turned around, her gaze sweeping once more over the gradually calming battlefield outside the window, but her thoughts had clearly already drifted to the distant Holy Terra.

"They talk about 'human governance' as if it were some supreme virtue? Look at the results of their governance! The Empire is shrinking, decaying, and gasping for breath in the darkness! Meanwhile, the threat of Xenomorphs and Chaos grows ever stronger! Are they afraid of Astartes? Afraid of the Primarchs? What they truly fear is losing their pitiful chance to draw power from the remnants of the Empire!"

Her voice suddenly rose, carrying the Primarch's unique, chilling majesty.

"They are a bunch of maggots raised in Terra's warm nest, arguing about who should get the biggest slice of the pie, while turning a blind eye to the arsonists gathering outside the kitchen, ready to burn the whole house down! The Emperor gave them the duty to protect humanity, not to protect their own privileges!"

Felus took a deep breath, the anger in her eyes gradually transforming into a deeper, colder resolve. She looked at Chen Xi, her tone unusually calm, yet even more dangerous. "You say Guilliman's fate is a cautionary tale? Very well. I thank you for your warning, Chen Xi. This makes me realize that the return is not just a declaration of victory, but the beginning of a war. And the enemy in this war is perhaps more pathetic, more detrimental to human survival than the orcs, more of a threat than the aliens—it is our own decay and shortsightedness."

She turned to Chen Xi, her tone serious:

"Chen Xi, even if they are a bunch of hopeless insects, the Empire was still established by the Emperor and us ten thousand years ago! Protecting humanity is the fundamental meaning of our existence! I have been absent for ten thousand years because of death, watching the Empire slide into the abyss, watching my offspring become twisted and deformed! I can no longer continue to be absent! Just because there are a bunch of fools in the way on Terra, should I continue to hide and watch countless worlds fall into despair?"

Her right arm hardened abruptly, solidifying into a ferocious warhammer shape, as if to smash the unseen enemy.

"Responsibility is above power and strategy, Chen Xi. That's an ironclad rule. But I need to hear your opinion."

Chen Xi gazed into the Primarch's eyes, burning with anger and a sense of responsibility, and sighed slowly, almost imperceptibly. He knew that this was the Primarch's core code, a cornerstone that could not be distorted by pure self-interest.

“I never advised you to hide.” Chen Xi’s tone softened, but remained firm. “I only advised you… to choose the right time and method to return, in order to avoid unnecessary internal strife, especially at a time when the Empire needs to concentrate its forces to deal with external threats the most. Your responsibility is to protect humanity, not to wrestle with a bunch of insects in the quagmire of Terra. That would only waste your precious time and strength, and you might even be dragged into their trap.”

He stepped forward again, tapped his finger on the tactical table, and brought up a star map of the Medusa star system and the surrounding Steel Hand subgroups.

“My advice is: announce your return, let the galaxy know that the Gorgon has returned and the Iron Hand has regained its guidance. But the place where this declaration should resound is Medusa, not Holy Terra. You don’t need to go to the center of that vortex of power in person to receive the high lords’ hypocritical worship and hidden poisonous blades.”

"Your immediate priority is to solidify your foundations. Medusa is your homeworld, the Legion's home. You must hold fast to it, making it an unshakeable fortress. At the same time, in the name of the Primarch, issue the call. Recall all the successful offspring of the Iron Hand—the Iron Hand, the Iron Guardians, the Giants… and bring them back into the Legion's ranks. Before the Great Rift tears the galaxy apart, restore the Tenth Legion's power to near its peak. A complete, unified Iron Legion, reforged by you, is far more capable of handling future crises and truly… protecting humanity, than a Primarch who goes to Terra alone, potentially facing political isolation or even house arrest."

Chen Xi's gaze was as sharp as a hawk's.

"When you have a reorganized legion at your fingertips, and when Guilliman has returned from his slumber and is bound to clash with the Highlords, that will be the best time for you to go to Terra, with undisputed power and the support of another Primarch, to settle old scores and restore order. Going now is an adventure. Going then is to establish order."

The anger in Feluse's eyes gradually subsided, replaced by deep contemplation. She gazed slowly across the worlds marked with the Iron Hand subgroup symbol on the star map. Chen Xi's words were cold and realistic, stripping away the veneer of idealism to reveal the harsh political realities and strategic considerations beneath.

She loathed such scheming, but she was not ignorant of war. She knew that sometimes, the greatest victory came from choosing the right battlefield and the right time.

After a long silence, the only sound on the bridge was the faint hum of the instruments. Finally, Ferrus Manus slowly raised her head; her will had made its decision. She nodded slightly to Chen Xi in acknowledgment.

“Your insights are always so profound, Chen Xi. To entangle ourselves with those parasites of Terra is indeed a desecration of time and power. The Empire’s true enemies lie beyond the stars, in the rifts of the warp.”

Her arms, covered in liquid metal, returned to their fluid state and pointed towards Medusa on the star map.

"Right here. As you suggested, announce to the galaxy that Felus Manus has returned to Medusa. The Iron Hand is back under the Primarch's command."

Her finger moved, highlighting several sub-clusters of the world.

"Issue the call. In the name of the Gorgon, summon all the scattered Sons of Steel home. Tell them that the Legion needs every son, and humanity needs every force. The Great Rift is coming, and we must become stronger and more united than ever before."

She turned to Chen Xi, her eyes now shining with a different light—an approval of the strategy and a determination for the future.

“Terra, we can wait. Once Guilliman wakes up, the show there will begin. But our stage is here. Our duty is to ensure that when darkness falls, humanity has at least one reforged, absolutely reliable ‘forge’ in its hands.”

Chen Xi bowed slightly in agreement. His advice had worked, and the Primarch adopted a more cautious and strategically minded approach.

"A wise decision. In this way, even if the High Lords are restless and unable to eat or sleep, they cannot directly make any rash moves against you who command an entire legion. They can only hear your fame spread throughout the galaxy, but they are powerless to stop the torrent of steel from gathering again."

Feralus looked out the window at Vulcan's Hammer again; the fireworks of victory were already fading.

"That's settled then. Chen Xi, you're in charge of drafting the proclamation in my name. Have messengers and star-speakers spread the message throughout the starry sea. Felus Manus has returned. But this time, the Gorgons will first and foremost protect their own lair and offspring."

Her voice echoed across the bridge, carrying an unquestionable authority and a subtle, heavy expectation for the future.

The empire's political turmoil has been temporarily averted, but a true storm is brewing in the distant future. The reforged steel hand will first and foremost prepare itself, and for the impending ultimate darkness.

(End of this chapter)