Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 685 Gate of Time and Space
Just as the remnants of the Death Guard began to retreat, and the Dark Angels erupted in cheers of victory, preparing for the final cleanup, another anomaly occurred.

From the depths of the "Stone" fortress came a low, unusual hum.

The sound did not come from an engine, nor from weapons firing; it was more like a lament of space, a wail emanating from a reality whose structure was forcibly distorted.

Immediately afterwards, in a space outside the fortress that had just experienced a fierce battle and was littered with wreckage, the void was torn apart like a shattered mirror!
A massive, unstable subspace rift, its edges shimmering with eerie light, suddenly opened!

The interior of the rift was not the colorful waves of a typical warp, but rather a strange, time-reversing scene—the dense, long-gone Caliban forest, and above it, ancient-painted spaceships engaged in fierce combat!

A familiar yet distant aura wafted over from the other side of the rift.

That's... the scent of home! The scent of before Caliban was destroyed!
Leon El-Jonson suddenly looked up, his gaze like lightning, piercing through the void and locking onto the rift.

His massive body trembled slightly. The slight confusion brought on by the awakening from his millennia-long slumber vanished completely at this moment, replaced by an extremely complex emotion—shock, nostalgia, pain, and… an irrepressible impulse.

He recognized the starry sky and the models of the spaceships.

That was a scene from the depths of his memory, one that had only recently occurred—the Caliban Civil War, the final battle between him and Luther, his most trusted foster father and brother.

“That is…” a great mentor who was close to the Lion King whispered in disbelief.

“Caliban…Caliban from ten thousand years ago!” Another think tank member sensed that unique spiritual imprint that transcended time and space.

Even as Typhon retreated, he saw the crack, and a look of wild joy appeared on his rotting face.

"The time has come! Cross the rift! Go to that era! Sever the lion's destiny at its source!" he shrieked, commanding the remaining Death Guard fleet and demon army to charge recklessly toward the rift.

They attempted to use this miraculous passage to go back in time, rewrite history, and nip the Lion King and his army in the bud.

"Stop them!" The command from High Master Azrael resounded through the communication channels to all loyalist units.

The Dark Angels fleet immediately turned its cannons around, the Void Shields lit up again, and they engaged in a fierce artillery battle with the Death Guard fleet that was trying to rush into the rift.

Countless drop pods and gunboats shot out from the "giant rock," intercepting any enemy units attempting to approach the rift like a swarm of bees.

The war has reignited, but this time, the focus of the struggle is the fragile passage connecting the past and the present.

Leon stood still, his gaze never leaving the crack.

His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white from the force.

He could sense that the crack was unstable and full of unknown risks.

But he knew even more that on the other side of the rift lay his beloved hometown, the site of the decisive battle that led to all the tragedy.

If he could go back...

If he could stop Luther, if he could save Caliban…

An incredibly tempting idea began to grow wildly in his mind—to cross the rift and change the past.

With his power and wisdom as the First Primarch, coupled with his understanding of the future, he might truly be able to turn the tide.

The thought that Caliban would be spared, that the loyalists who had died in doubt and infighting would be brought back to life, and even… was so strong that it almost overwhelmed his reason.

He took a step forward, then another, his gaze fixed intently on the familiar forest landscape, as if he were about to leap into the torrent of time.

However, just as he was about to be completely swallowed by the phantom of the past, he stopped in his tracks.

He saw his current offspring around the rift, locked in a fierce battle with the Death Guard.

They chanted slogans like "For the Lion King" and "For Caliban," fighting a bloody battle to protect this rift from being exploited by traitors.

Their faces bore the resilience inherited from millennia of tradition, and even more so, their boundless anticipation for his return.

He also sensed the "Rock" fortress itself—a mobile fortress built from the remains of the Caliban, bearing the pain of the past and the responsibility for the future.

It is a kingdom in exile, and a fortress that will never fall.

If he went back and changed the past, then this "giant rock" that is now fighting, these descendants who followed him, and the sacrifices and perseverance over the past ten thousand years...

Will all of this vanish like a phantom that never happened?
Changing the past means denying the present.

Leon Aljonson, the Primarch known for his iron will and absolute rationality, took one last look at Caliban on the other side of the rift, as if trying to etch the image of his homeland into his soul.

The struggle, pain, and longing in his eyes eventually transformed into a deep, unwavering resolve, like the rock beneath Caliban.

He slowly withdrew his foot and straightened his body. His gaze shifted from the crack to the battlefield before him, which belonged to "the present," and to his soldiers.

“…No!” His deep voice rang out, not loud, but with an undeniable determination, “The past is history! Our battlefield…is here, in the present.”

The moment he finished speaking, a Black Claw gunship, painted with the Ravenwing emblem and incredibly fierce, dodged several anti-aircraft attacks from the Death Guardians and, like a desperate dagger, charged into the unstable time rift.

Just before entering the rift, the rift cannon on the gunboat's belly completed its charge and fired a distorted beam of light that struck the core of the rift.

boom----! ! !
A silent explosion reverberated through everyone's minds.

The subspace rift connecting the past and the present began to collapse and crumble from the inside.

The eerie light contracted rapidly, eventually turning into an extremely black dot, before disappearing completely into the void as if it had never existed.

Only the floating wreckage of warships and the heavy casualties suffered by both sides testify to just how intense and thrilling the struggle over time itself was.

The rift disappeared, and the possibility of going to the past was also cut off.

Lion King Leon Aljonson stood silently in place, without moving for a long time.

He lost a chance to salvage everything, but he also strengthened his resolve to face the future.

He turned away from the void and faced his loyal legion, issuing a command in a deep voice that had regained the calm and authority of a war lord: "Eliminate the remaining enemies and strengthen the defenses. The war... is not over yet."

The lion has fully awakened. His gaze no longer lingers on past tragedies, but is instead fixed on the depths of the galaxy, on the vast and dark future that awaits his conquest, purification, and protection.

(End of this chapter)