Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 327 The Sorrowful Emperor
The Emperor Dream passed through the Gate of Elysium, avoiding the busy ships coming and going at the Gate of the Underworld, and entered the subspace to travel towards the northern part of the Eastern End Starfield.

The Nur ships followed closely behind. To ensure the safe transport of the gene seeds, Nur dispatched a high-speed fleet to ensure a safe evacuation even if they encountered a powerful enemy.

Doom sat atop the fleet flagship, with Sophia's image hovering above the table, constantly transmitting the intelligence he had retrieved to him, helping him make up for the years he had missed.

His lost journey through the warp, his search for the Void Dragon in the labyrinth of eternal night, was filled with many missed opportunities.

After entering the Warp, the Empire returned two Primarchs: Rogue Dorn, Lord of the Seventh Legion.

And there was Magnus, the commander of the Fifteenth Legion, whose entire body was crimson.

Since the Primarch's return, both Legions have changed their names to better reflect the Legion's style and the Primarch's will.

The Seventh Legion became known as the "Fist of the Empire," and Roger Dorne hoped that the Spawn Legion, like the Empire's clenched iron fist, would strike hard against humanity's enemies.

The Fifteenth Legion, with its sparse population and a name tinged with melancholy, is known as the "Children of a Thousand Sicknesses" because they suffer greatly from psionic mutations.

When Doom returned from the Warp, Dorn was still preparing on Terra and left for Mars without saying goodbye.

The Imperial Fist is currently waging war in the perpetually stormy star system in the southern part of the Milky Way.

Stormy Starfield. The name itself suggests that this starfield is perpetually turbulent and prone to frequent astronomical disasters.

Cosmic storms crushed planets, forming many debris belts spanning tens of light-years, inhabited by numerous alien races and undiscovered horrors.

Roger Dorn's choice of Stormfield as the Legion's main offensive target is a testament to his ambition.

Doom nodded and pressed the Brother Holographic Projection button. Judging from the intelligence gathered, the Imperial Fist should have achieved a great deal on this trip.

As a relatively normal legion, Imperial Fist has a mature tactical style. Dorn did not overturn the legion system and start from scratch. Instead, it strengthened the combat style.

The Legion's tactical style aligns with the Primarch's philosophy, and the two complement each other, unleashing a combat power sufficient to deter the villains of the Storm Starfield.

Doom then turned his gaze to the Magnus light and shadow. This brother was entirely crimson and exceptionally tall, resembling the legendary Asura Yaksha.

Contrary to his fierce appearance, Magnus returned to Terra and, upon seeing his long-suffering offspring, shed tears of anguish.

He requested an audience with the emperor, and what they discussed remains unknown to outsiders.

After leaving the palace, Magnus led his legions away from Terra and headed to his homeworld, Prospero.

After that, there was no further news of the Thousand Sons Legion, and they temporarily left the Great Expedition.

"Hey~"

Upon learning this information, Doom couldn't help but sigh, a sense of pity rising in his heart.

I recalled that refined warrior, Azek Ahriman, clad in red armor, wielding a psionic staff, and with a spellbook hanging from his waist.

It's not hard to guess why Magnus wanted to see the emperor.

Upon returning to the Primarch, he faces severe mutations in his flesh and blood, and alienation from his brothers by the Fifteenth Legion.

When it comes to solving the problem of flesh mutation, the emperor is the most qualified to speak on it.

The outcome of his final departure was obvious: Magnus did not receive a satisfactory answer and had to find the answer himself.

Doom placed his palm down, turned off the holographic projection, leaned back in his chair with a slightly tired look, and gently rubbed his temples.

Just as he had expected, as his brothers gradually returned, problems in each legion began to surface one after another.

Many legions have problems; how should the Emperor deal with them?

The Ninth Legion, ghouls on the battlefield, possess extremely advanced genetic detection nerves, causing them to thirst for blood and devour corpses indiscriminately, friend or foe.

The Eleventh Legion, a legion beneath armor, never removes its helmet in front of outsiders and refuses assistance from mortal auxiliary troops.

And then there's the 13th Company of Space Wolves, the werewolf-like Space Marines, who have already crossed the Emperor's line.

During the Great Expedition, in order to advance the conquest, the emperor could turn a blind eye to certain things.

Once his online plan is implemented, or even succeeds, what will become of these legions, which are full of honors and scars?
Overwhelmed by anxieties about the future, Doom's mind was in a state of confusion; his extraordinary intellect could hardly fathom the Emperor's plans for the future.

Hey~
As the door opened, an automated machine delivered the drinks and placed them quietly on the table.

Doom smiled slightly, not worrying about the future, and opened a bottle of wine to fill his glass.

Raising her glass to Sophia, she said, "Cheers, Sophia. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to consider my feelings." The Central Law slowly bowed, performing a courtly gesture, her voice rational and gentle: "Serving you is the meaning of my existence."

"Don't forget to let the Ancient Ones taste it." In this rare moment of relaxation, Doom didn't forget Sintra.

"Delivered simultaneously with you."

Doom was deeply satisfied with Sofia; he nodded in acknowledgment, silently thanking her for her efforts.

After indulging in his culinary desires, he put aside his worries, rested his head on his arms, and waited for the fleet to reach its destination.

Planet Baal is located in the northwest of the Eastern End Star Region and the northwest of the Otlama Star Region.

After three months of subspace travel, the fleet returned to the real universe from the edge of the Barr system without triggering any observable astronomical phenomena.

Doom ordered the fleet to wait in the void outside the star system, while he boarded a destroyer and followed the Imperial Dream. After a short jump within the star system, they finally arrived at the dark side of Baal.

Bar is a giant planet with two moons facing each other from east to west, forming a triple orbital system.

On the surface of the giant main star and its two satellites, there are numerous man-made ruins that tell the story of its former prosperity.

The three worlds are desolate, with traces of war everywhere. In the Lost Era, civil war destroyed prosperity and turned the planet into a dead world.

Currently, only on the surface of Enceladus do human life signals exist.

Enceladus is orange-red, slightly lighter than Mars. Although humans live on its surface, the planet is filled with deadly radiation.

Doom traveled in a shuttle from the void to the surface, where he met the Emperor in the wasteland of the planet.

The two men, dressed in burqas and completely unprotected, stood in the scorching sun, their feet treading on red, burning sand.

Doom stretched out his palm with his fingers spread, feeling the wind, sometimes strong and sometimes weak, slip through his fingers. Looking into the distance, he saw cyclones appearing and disappearing over the wasteland.

His nostrils twitched. The planet's atmosphere was scorching hot, radioactive material drifted in the wind, and the air was filled with a strong smell of rust.

Squinting, I gaze into the distance. The blazing sunlight penetrates the thin atmosphere, shining on the rolling hills in the distance, reflecting a distant, diamond-like brilliance.

"A sandstorm is approaching." His magnetic voice collided with the sand and dust as he pointed to the horizon, where a dark, yellowish wall was slowly closing in.

"This way." The emperor pointed in the opposite direction of the sandstorm, pulled up his hood, and slid down the slope of the dune.

The two walked through the desert, their tall figures intimidating, and the predators lurking under the sand dared not approach, hiding in the sand to observe them secretly.

The wind whips up sand, and it also whips up sorrow.

While traveling through the desert, the emperor's face looked grim under his hood, his brows furrowed as he recalled details from his time in the laboratory.

He did indeed sense the fluctuations in his bloodline; the angel was his son, and this was the root cause of his sorrow.

Because in the original design, none of the original genetic prototypes had wings that allowed them to fly.

In traditional perception, winged humans are generally referred to as "angels," symbolizing divine apostles, purity, and nobility.

But the empire is a human empire; it needs neither gods nor angels.

The Emperor shaped the Primarch into human form, allowing him to conquer the galaxy in human form, precisely to avoid excessive worship.

Faith is pervasive; if the original genetic material differs fundamentally from humans in appearance, it can easily become a religious symbol.

Now, one of its offspring has broken free of the original design, growing pure white wings and looking exactly like the legendary angel.

The emperor was deeply troubled by this, as he himself was worshipped as a god by many people, and even the imperial officials believed him to be a savior.

If the angels were to return, their outward appearance would be indistinguishable from that of the divine messengers, which would surely spark a debate within the empire about whether they were gods or humans.

Just as the emperor was troubled and immersed in worry, an arm blocked his way, stopping him from moving forward.

Doum pointed ahead, where in the low-lying shadows of the red desert, there was a pool of clear water, emitting an enticing mist.

“Some kind of liquid creature,” the Emperor said, moving his arm aside and instead of avoiding the pool, he squatted down beside it, scooped up the water-like liquid with one hand to examine it, “Perhaps it is some kind of weapon.”

"Don't drink that water, it's dangerous!"

A hoarse warning sounded, the dune slope bulged, and a person emerged from under the sand.

(End of this chapter)