Warhammer begins in 2026

On the very day that order in Nostramore was completely consolidated, the deafening roar of void engines echoed from outer space.

Huang Feng looked up at the sky and whispered to Conrad beside him, "I have prepared your fleet. Let's go meet them."

A gentle force lifted Conrad, and the two soared into the air, reaching near-Earth orbit. A colossal battleship, its hull etched with the claw-scale emblem, hovered silently in the sea of ​​stars. Its portholes and turrets were neatly arranged, exuding a solemn and imposing aura. This was the flagship Huang Feng had prepared in advance for the Eighth Legion. Surrounding the battleship, cruisers, assault boats, and landing ships were densely packed together. The entire Eighth Legion fleet stood silently in formation, awaiting the Primarch's arrival.

The landing pod was slowly deployed, and warriors in dark blue power armor stepped onto the Nostramore airport platform in an orderly fashion. Their ranks were neat, and their auras were calm and restrained. This team had long been carefully trained and honed by Huang Feng, abandoning meaningless bloodlust and brutality, and keeping judgment and order firmly in mind, making them completely different from the original violent Midnight Lord.

Conrad stepped onto the airport's metal floor, his gaze slowly sweeping over each soldier in the ranks. He could sense the pure conviction in their hearts—no crazed bloodlust, only a steadfast commitment to punishing evil and upholding justice. Years of suppressed loneliness suddenly vanished; his pale face twitched slightly as he turned to look at Huang Feng beside him, his voice low yet tinged with a rare tenderness: "Mother, you've raised them very well."

The Primarch, orphaned and alone since birth, struggling through darkness and bloodshed, fought relentlessly through the night, battling until dawn before finally conceding defeat. After five years of meticulous guidance, he finally felt guidance and protection from this person for the first time, like the only light in the long night. The word "Mother" was the most solemn recognition and reliance hidden in his heart.

Huang Feng nodded slightly and raised his hand to signal that he was officially handing over full command of the legion to Conrad.

At the very moment when Conrad's mind resonated with the thousands of soldiers in the army, the long-dormant power of the eagle banner deep within his chest was suddenly awakened.

An invisible dark blue banner unfurled above the airport, its surface adorned with a pattern of intertwined midnight claws and the scales of justice. A surge of immense power swept across the entire airport and even the orbital fleet. The Eighth Legion's eagle banner completed its first full bloom, unlocking all exclusive legion talents and bestowing them upon all warriors.

The power of judgment flows through every suit of power armor and every weapon, allowing warriors to see through all hidden evils and lies, and to pinpoint all sinners lurking in the shadows. Their attacks carry the weight of judgment; the more sinful the target, the more severe the damage. Conrad possesses an innate talent for foreseeing death, which he shares with the entire army through the eagle standard, enabling all legion members to witness evil lurking in the shadows and intercept sins in advance.

Beneath the acid rain of the eternal night, the dark blue eagle banner fluttered in the wind. Conrad raised a hand to his chest; the endless visions of death that haunted him no longer suffocated him, but instead transformed into sharp instruments to discern good from evil and judge sin. From this day forward, he would no longer walk alone in the eternal night; his battleships and countless soldiers of the Night Lords would forever follow him, carrying clear order and just judgment, traversing the galaxy to judge all hidden evils in the world.

Nostramer's eternal night still hangs in the sky, corrosive acid rain pattering against the newly renovated metal buildings, yet unable to dispel the warmth of this planet's rebirth. Above the spaceport, the dark blue eagle banner of the Midnight Lord flutters fiercely, its first burst of immense power slowly receding, settling into the very bones and blood of every legion warrior. The orderly, solemn ranks of the legions and the massive fleet hovering in near-Earth orbit give this planet, dormant in darkness for millennia, its first true protective edge.

Conrad Coates stood atop the airport platform, his once hunched and frail figure now gone. Five years of tutelage, a night of relentless struggle, and a profound transformation of mind, had finally allowed this Primarch, tormented by death illusions, to straighten his back. Yet, deep within his dark, profound eyes, the fragmented afterimages of death still lingered—the innate talent etched into his very being, and the curse of destiny that had haunted him throughout his life.

The blooming of the eagle banner made his power even more concentrated, but with it came an ever more turbulent torrent of illusions. The death trajectories of countless lives, the sins and darkness lurking in the world, and countless tragic endings in the future washed over his consciousness like a tide. If he was not careful, he would fall into the abyss of paranoia and madness once again.

Huang Feng slowly walked to his side, gazing at the turbulent, unsettled light in his eyes, her gaze gentle yet resolute. With a flick of her wrist, a jet-black cloak, its material as light and thin as mist, silently appeared in her palm. The cloak's fabric was exquisitely fine, its dark patterns subtly flowing in the dim light of the eternal night, engraved with runes of order originating from the divine realm of humanity. It emanated a gentle, calming, restraining, and harmonizing power, designed specifically for the restraint, harmonization, and control of ultimate spiritual energy.

"This is a gift I prepared for you."

Huang Feng spoke softly, handing the cloak to Conrad. His voice was calm yet every word resonated deeply. "It can suppress your psychic talent and lock away the overflowing precognitive power within you. But this suppression is not a seal or imprisonment; you retain all the initiative."

Conrad lightly touched the fabric of the cloak with his fingertips; the cool touch instantly soothed the restless illusions in his mind, and the surging torrent of emotions subsided considerably. He looked up at Huang Feng, his eyes filled with a hint of bewilderment and emotion.

"On ordinary days, it will help you shield yourself from redundant, chaotic, and endless premonitions of death, freeing you from endless mental torment, leaving your mind clear and your spirit serene." Huang Feng meticulously explained the cloak's wondrous uses, precisely matching the pain he had endured throughout his life. "When you need to judge evil, see through darkness, or predict the course of battle, you can freely release the suppression and actively activate your talent. At that time, your precognitive power will burst forth, accurately locking onto all sins and crises, solely for the purpose of justice and judgment, no longer being consumed by chaotic illusions."

This is his unique salvation.

In the past, he was enslaved by his talent and enslaved by illusions, struggling alone in darkness and madness, only able to vent his spiritual pain through killing; from now on, he will truly control his talent and his destiny. The curse will no longer be a curse, and his ultimate foresight will become his supreme weapon to judge darkness and safeguard order.

Conrad silently raised his hand and draped the black cloak over his shoulders.

The cloak clung to his body, the runes of order dimming and concealing their light, instantly gathering all his overflowing spiritual energy. The chaotic and endless visions of death in his mind vanished abruptly, and the mental torment that had never ceased for decades finally subsided into tranquility.

The long-awaited Qingming Festival completely enveloped his mind for the first time.

He gently clenched his sleeve, a faint sense of relief appearing on his pale face, his deep voice carrying an unprecedented calm: "Thank you, Mother."

A simple thank you is worth a thousand words. Five years of guidance, one night of enlightenment, and now, a gift of redemption—Huang Feng has completely pulled him out of the eternal darkness, the madness of fate, and the prison of his talent.

Just moments after their conversation ended, the continuous, deep, and steady roar of void engines echoed once more from the outer reaches of Nostramore. Countless standardized ships tore through void rifts and sailed majestically into the planet's orbit, their hulls emblazoned with the emblem of the Terran Empire and the gear totem of the Mechanicus, orderly, imposing, and awe-inspiring.

The official mission of Terra and the main force of the Mechanicus arrived as scheduled.

Countless landing craft detached from the fleet one after another, piercing through the eternal night's atmosphere and landing precisely in the major core cities, administrative hubs, and industrial areas of Nostramore. Cult priests, clad in red and gold robes and wielding mechanical scepters, followed the Imperial Guard and imperial officials, landing in an orderly fashion and quickly dispersing to various levels of the planet.

After five years of cleansing, the highest levels of evil in Nostramore have been thoroughly eradicated, and the chaos, disorder, rampant gangs, and exploitation at the bottom have been eliminated. The entire planet now has the foundation to build a new imperial order. The arrival of Terran officials and the Mechanicus is to finalize the established order for this newly born dark world.

The priests of the Mechanicus swiftly took over the planet's aging and crumbling industrial system, energy core, and mechanical facilities. They dismantled the decadent and obsolete machinery left behind in the upper districts, refurbished the damaged production equipment in the lower districts, repaired the rusted city pipe networks, and calibrated the disordered energy hubs. They transformed Nostramor's millennia-old chaotic industrial system into a well-organized and efficient military and civilian system suited to the Empire's grand expeditions and serving the people. At the same time, countless purification devices were deployed across the entire planet, slowly neutralizing the acid rain corrosion and industrial pollution accumulated over the years, gradually healing the planet's millennia-old wounds.

Terran officials immediately began establishing order upon arrival. Relying on the foundation of public support and order built by Huang Feng and Conrad over five years, they formulated a comprehensive legal system, social welfare system, and class rules, completely severing the dark rules of the past that divided the rich and poor, the dictatorship of the powerful, and the survival of the fittest.

The new laws were clear and strict: good and evil would be rewarded accordingly, merits and demerits would be clearly distinguished, the powerful and wealthy would not be allowed to arbitrarily exploit the lower classes, commoners would be paid for their labor, the wicked would be judged, and the good would be able to live in peace. They registered the population, divided the city into districts, built administrative hubs, and established a security system, allowing Nostramamo to bid farewell to the barbaric law of the jungle and possess a regular, just, and stable imperial social order.

Once, this place was the darkest prison in the galaxy, where the upper class indulged in extravagance and corruption, exploiting the very marrow of the people, while the lower class struggled to survive, their lives hanging by a thread, and evil bred endlessly. Now, machinery has reshaped the mountains and rivers and infrastructure, and laws and regulations have regulated human order. The dark city has finally ushered in the true dawn of civilization.

On the high platform of the airport, Conrad, draped in a black cloak of order, silently overlooked the birth of the entire planet.

His psychic powers were calmly suppressed, his mind clear and transparent. Occasionally, when he casually activated a sliver of his talent, he could clearly see hidden, minute evils and hidden dangers, and then he would withdraw his power and return to calm. He was no longer a midnight ghost driven mad by illusions, no longer a dark judge who only knew how to kill.

He is the ruler of the Midnight Lords of the Eighth Legion, the guardian of Nostramore, the practitioner of the Imperial order, and the Primarch who holds the yardstick of good and evil and controls his own destiny.

Huang Feng stood beside him, gazing at the orderly renovation project, the solemnly lined-up legionary warriors, and the reborn dark planet.