The Empire of The Multiverse

Chapter 49 - Old Ones Movements

In the midst of the cosmic battlefield, Novastra Wolfsbane, the formidable Primarch of the Space Wolves, stood with her mighty legions. The clash with the Old Ones had been raging for Centuries, and she couldn't help but notice the unusual retreat of her ancient foes. Suspicion and curiosity gripped her as she considered their motives.

Her trusted commander, Ulric Stormbringer, approached her, his eyes reflecting the same uncertainty that clouded her thoughts.

"My lady," Ulric began, his voice heavy with concern, "the Old Ones are retreating. This isn't like them. What do you think they're planning?"

Novastra Wolfsbane, her silver armor gleaming in the cosmic light, narrowed her eyes as she surveyed the retreating forces of the Old Ones. Her long, silver hair flowed like a silver river behind her. brownish skin was revealed as her helmet faded away in technological fashion, her beastlike pupils stared at the hologram of the galactic battlefield they were in. The blue icons represented her forces, the Imperium's forces, while the red ones indicated the Aetherians. Upon closer inspection, these icons revealed themselves to be detailed representations of spaceships.

"The Old Ones are the First Civilization," Novastra mused, her gaze unwavering. "They have proven this time and time again with their technology and tactics. However, the more they won, the better the Imperium adapted, overcame their tactics, and even employed them against them. But this... this retreat must be part of their grand design."

She expanded the hologram to a universal scale, revealing a gathering of Old One forces at the center of the universe.

"Perhaps a strategic retreat," she pondered aloud, her voice a blend of determination and caution. "Or are they baiting us into something far more sinister?"

Ulric nodded, his mind processing the implications. "Either way, my lady, we must be prepared for whatever their true intentions may be."

Novastra Wolfsbane initiated a communication request to her fellow Primarchs, Valerian of the Dark Angels and Horus of the Luna Wolves. On her flagship's control panel, she watched as the connection request was sent, eager to confer with her brothers in the far reaches of the cosmos.

Valerian, clad in his formal military attire, arrived at the bridge of his flagship, the Invincible. His holographic training ground dissipated as he prepared to engage in communication with Novastra.

Meanwhile, Horus, deep in the study of the Old Ones' movements, acknowledged Novastra's communication request. He knew that her keen strategic mind had likely detected the same peculiar retreat pattern of their ancient foes.

The holographic screens on both their flagships flickered to life as they established a secure communication link with Novastra Wolfsbane, the Space Wolves Primarch.

Novastra's image appeared on their screens, her majestic presence commanding attention. She wasted no time in addressing her brothers. "Valerian, Horus," she began, her voice resonating with authority, "I trust you've noticed the unusual retreat of the Old Ones. I can't help but think they're planning something significant at the center of the universe. It's unlike them to back down without a purpose. What are your thoughts?"

Valerian, the ever-vigilant swordsman, spoke first. "Novastra, you're right. Their retreat raises suspicions. I've been practicing against a simulation of all known swordsmen in the Imperium, and even in this controlled environment, I felt a sense of urgency."

Horus, the master strategist, added, "I've been analyzing their movements as well. The convergence towards the center of the universe is a clear pattern. It could be a bait, or they might be planning something of cosmic significance. We need to stay vigilant."

Horus, Valerian, and Novastra had gathered once again, their thoughts focused on the peculiar retreat of the Old Ones toward the center of the universe. Horus shared the results of the preliminary scouting efforts, revealing a massive blockade consisting of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of galaxies. 

"They must've shifted their strategy to defense," Valerian noted, analyzing the data. "According to Father, they still have 200 years left before their entire race reaches full power."

Horus nodded in agreement. "It makes sense. They've been losing to us for centuries. Blocking our advance and stopping us from entering their home territory might be their new plan."

Valerian proposed discussing their plans with Fafnir, the God-Emperor himself, to seek his guidance.

A few minutes later, Fafnir's holographic presence joined their meeting. The Primarchs greeted their father with reverence.

"It's good to see you again, my children," Fafnir said, his benevolent presence filling the room. "What seems to be the matter?"

Valerian explained their situation, emphasizing the Old Ones' determination to halt their advance outside the center of the universe. They proposed reallocating some of their resources from this theater of war to other crucial fronts.

Fafnir, a symbol of wisdom and leadership, listened to their report and pondered the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke, "My children, it is clear that the Aetherians are determined to protect their core territories. If attempting to breach this blockade risks heavy losses, then it is wise to consolidate your position. Proceed with your plans to allocate resources elsewhere."

The Primarchs nodded in agreement, grateful for their father's wisdom and support. With a plan in motion and the God-Emperor's blessing, they were ready to adapt and continue their defense of the Imperium across the vast cosmos.

49.2 Seeding Life

In the upper levels of the Universe, Primarch Aurelius Voidseeker of the Emperor's Children was conducting a delicate balance of diplomacy and conquest among the various races. This region, near the Imperium, held thriving harvest worlds and resource ships, where dark matter, black holes, asteroid belts, and other cosmic phenomena were efficiently and rapidly harvested. The Imperium's advanced technology left behind nothing but dust and the void after each harvest, making way for the creation of new worlds and resource sectors.

Aurelius, not merely a conqueror but a creator, was meticulously shaping these star sectors for future life and resource production. He examined a tablet displaying data on a newly formed star sector and nodded in satisfaction.

"This Star Sector is perfectly arranged and should have new life and resources within a few hundred years," Aurelius remarked, setting the tablet aside. An artificer approached him, seeking permission to halt the temporal manipulation responsible for accelerating the planet's development.

Aurelius considered the planet, which spun rapidly, its surface evolving with the birth of oceans, vegetation, and a healthy atmosphere. "You may stop once life has taken hold in the oceans," he instructed the artificer.

Turning to his deputy, Eidolon, the Lord Commander of the Emperor's Children, Aurelius mused aloud, "It still amazes me how Father prefers creating life and resource planets. Fighting can be so tedious at times, but seeding life... don't you find it intriguing?"

Eidolon, standing by his Primarch's side, offered a thoughtful nod. The delicate balance between conquest and creation defined their mission in this vast and ever-evolving cosmos.

Eidolon continued to manipulate the sequence of planet formation and solar system arrangement, his thoughts consumed by the complex nature of the races they encountered in their conquests. Suddenly, he found himself voicing a question that had long intrigued him.

"Father, I don't understand why some races refuse to embrace the light of the Imperium and the God-Emperor. We offer progress, justice, equality, and even the gift of life to barren worlds. Why do they resist?" Eidolon asked, genuine curiosity coloring his voice.

Aurelius, the Primarch, pondered this question thoughtfully as he observed the ongoing creation of new worlds. Eidolon's question had arisen unexpectedly, but it struck at the heart of their mission and the complexities of dealing with the multitude of civilizations across the cosmos.

"This is a good question, Eidolon," Aurelius began, his deep voice carrying the weight of wisdom. "We bring justice, progress, and all that is good, but some mortal minds struggle to adapt to a utopia. Mortal minds are inherently flawed, tainted by evil and ambition. While we, the Homo-Divinitas, have evolved into beings that can thrive within the perfect society that the God-Emperor has shaped, we are not the same as the mortal races we encounter."

Aurelius continued, his tone filled with understanding and compassion. "To those races, living under the guidance of a living God who constantly suppresses the surge of evil and chaos might feel suffocating. Citizens of the Imperium who have evolved to our level of understanding support our cause, but those newly conquered and those who oppose us are often driven by ambition. They refuse to submit to our order and may even jeopardize their own kind in their pursuit of ambition. If given the chance, they would attack us, seeking to replace our throne."

With a resolute tone, he concluded, "That is why we fight—to bring order, progress, and justice to a universe and, perhaps, a multiverse in constant turmoil. Our mission is never-ending, but we will succeed."

The Primarch and his deputy watched as their work in the current void zone came to fruition. A primitive solar system had been meticulously formed, complete with planets and the potential for life to flourish. Aurelius nodded in satisfaction at the completed creation.

"Perfect. Our work here is done," he declared, his eyes gleaming with a sense of accomplishment. "We still have thirteen more void zones to fill."

Eidolon marveled at the process they had perfected. "To think that by accumulating dust and manipulating gravity, then expediting the natural course of planetary formation through time manipulation, we can effortlessly create life and resource-rich worlds. From dust to planets, and eventually back to dust—it's a remarkable cycle."

Aurelius nodded in agreement. "Indeed, it's essentially a form of perpetual motion. Energy is recyclable, and our understanding of it surpasses that of all other life forms in the universe, except perhaps the Old Ones. This is one of the reasons we fight against them. The universe cannot accommodate two civilizations with supreme mastery over energy."

With their task complete in this void zone, the Mothership prepared to depart for the next, carrying the Primarch and his deputy on their never-ending mission to shape worlds and bring order to the cosmos.

49.3 An Underwater Civilization

In the heart of a distant galaxy, Perthramar Fireheart, the indomitable Primarch of the Iron Warriors, was leading a formidable invasion of a water planet. The Imperium had detected massive energy readings deep beneath the planet's oceanic surface, prompting the need for contact with the underwater civilization before proceeding further.

"Primarch," reported the Artificer, "our preliminary scans from the satellites have revealed extraordinary energy readings originating from depths of 20 kilometers beneath the ocean's surface. It suggests the presence of at least a Type 1 Civilization residing underwater."

Perthramar contemplated the significance of this discovery. "Let us not rush to conclusions, Artificer," he advised. "We will send a message to them, conveying our peaceful intentions and our desire for cooperation. It's possible that their knowledge and technology could greatly benefit the Imperium."

The Artificer nodded in agreement and swiftly operated the communication panel to transmit the message to the underwater civilization, requesting their cooperation in establishing contact and potentially forging an alliance with the mighty Imperium.

Perthramar Fireheart continued to ponder the potential significance of the underwater civilization they had discovered. The limitations imposed by their aquatic environment intrigued him. "It's a cruel twist of fate," he mused aloud to the attentive personnel on the bridge. "Their physiology confines them to their watery realm, and yet, it might have granted them unique qualities or knowledge that we can benefit from. We shall see."

As they awaited a response from the underwater civilization, the bridge hummed with activity. Crew members diligently performed their duties, their focus unwavering.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the ocean, the message from the extraterrestrial civilization had reached the highest echelons of the underwater society. The communication officers were quick to call for their Supervisor, recognizing the immense importance of this moment. Urged by the gravity of the situation, the Supervisor wasted no time and immediately contacted the Prince.

"Your Highness," the Supervisor reported with a sense of urgency, "we have received communication from an extraterrestrial civilization from beyond our planet. They have expressed a desire for a diplomatic meeting and claim to come in peace."

The Prince, aware of the gravity of the situation, swiftly made a decision. "Contact them and inform them that we are willing to meet them on the surface of the water. Send them the coordinates of the location in the planet. I will report this matter to my Father."

With that, the Prince disconnected the call,

The Prince, filled with a mix of curiosity and caution, entered the Royal Chambers where his father, the King, resided. He began to recount the unexpected communication from the extraterrestrial civilization known as Imperium Dominus. Their origin and motives remained shrouded in mystery. 

"Father, extraterrestrials have reached out to us," the Prince reported, his voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. "Their message indicates they come from outerspace, and they identify themselves as Imperium Dominus. Their leader is the Primarch and Prince of Imperium Dominus, Perthramar Fireheart. They express a desire for diplomacy and cooperation."

The King, his aged white hair gracefully flowing in the water, pondered the situation. "Imperium Dominus," he mused, his thoughts swimming like currents in the depths of the ocean. "We know not their intentions nor their origin. Nevertheless, we shall heed caution."

With wisdom that came from years of ruling their underwater kingdom, the King issued a directive. "Attempt to establish peaceful contact with these Imperium Dominus. Let them know we are willing to meet them on the surface of the water. Prepare our army, my son, but do so in defense, not aggression. We must be ready for any outcome."

The Prince nodded, a sense of responsibility and determination guiding his actions. He left the Royal Chambers and swiftly began assembling the underwater army, ready to protect their realm if the need arose. However, the stark reality remained – their forces were but a drop in the cosmic ocean compared to the might of Imperium Dominus, whose Mothership held billions of Imperial Forces. 

As the Iron Warriors prepared to meet the underwater civilization on the surface of their water planet, Perthramar Fireheart, their formidable Primarch, issued orders to make a powerful impression. His tactical mind was ever-focused on using the might and technology of Imperium Dominus to its fullest advantage.

"Prepare a diplomatic party," Perthramar commanded, his voice resonating with authority. "And fill their skies with our spaceships. Let them witness the overwhelming power of the Imperium Dominus. This strategy has quelled rebellious minds among lower civilizations before."

With his orders relayed to his officers, Perthramar made his way to the hangar where the 1st Captain of the Iron Warriors, Xandar Torvus, awaited him. A nod passed between the Primarch and his trusted Space Marine captain as they embarked on the Battleship, ready to represent the Imperium Dominus.

Within minutes, the Battleship launched, and a vast fleet assembled around it. Thousands of varied spaceships descended from the massive Mothership, filling the skies of the water planet. It was a breathtaking and terrifying sight to the inhabitants, a display of technological and military might that few civilizations could match.

The imposing Mothership, with its enormous silhouette, hovered a few light years away from the planet, a testament to its colossal size. The Battleships, each no smaller than 30 kilometers in length, featured a sleek and angular design, sharp edges, and clean lines that conveyed a futuristic and formidable appearance. The Imperial Insignia of a Dragon, spreading its wings, adorned the hulls, signifying the might of their God-Emperor.

These ships, with their massive hulls and elegant lines, presented an imposing yet graceful presence as they descended upon the designated meeting place.

As the colossal Imperium Dominus spaceships blotted out the sun, casting an imposing shadow over the water planet, the King and Prince of the merfolk watched in awe and trepidation. The magnitude of the approaching force left them breathless and overwhelmed.

"By the Gods, how do we even stand a chance against this?" the King muttered, his voice heavy with concern. The realization of their vulnerability weighed heavily on his heart.

The Prince, his mind racing with thoughts of survival and diplomacy, stepped forward. "Peace must be negotiated, Father," he declared, his determination shining through. "I ask for your trust and permission to take full control over the negotiations. It's our only hope to protect our planet and our race."

The King nodded solemnly, recognizing the gravity of the situation. "Yes, my child. Do whatever it takes for the good of our people."

Their whale-like vessel, surrounded by aquatic animals and technologically advanced submarines, seemed minuscule compared to the overwhelming display of power by the Imperium Dominus.

High above, a massive Battleship hovered ominously, bristling with armaments. It was a formidable sight to behold. Beneath the waves, the mermen and their aquatic creatures prepared to face an uncertain future.

Perthramar Fireheart, the indomitable Primarch of the Iron Warriors, stood on the deck of the Battleship. He observed the shock and horror on the faces of the merfolk as they beheld the sheer size and might of the Imperium's forces.

A sly grin crept across his face. "That," he mused to himself, "is the face of a lower civilization encountering the might of the Imperium."

With a swift teleportation, Perthramar and a company of Astartes from the Iron Warriors appeared on the deck of the merman's largest vessel.

The imposing presence of Perthramar Fireheart and his retinue of Astartes had a profound effect on the mermen. As they gazed upon the towering figures, their hearts filled with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The sheer size and aura of the Primarch and his warriors were enough to intimidate even the bravest among them.

The King and the Prince, despite their royal lineage and leadership, found themselves momentarily frozen in the face of such overwhelming might. The mermen guards, who were known for their courage and prowess, couldn't help but feel a shiver run down their spines.

Perthramar, his towering frame clad in combat skin, studied the mermen with keen interest. He understood the impact his presence had on the lower civilization. It was a reaction he had witnessed many times before in various corners of the universe.

But Perthramar was not here to conquer or subjugate. He was here for diplomacy, to negotiate and seek cooperation. With a reassuring nod and a faint smile, he gestured for the King and Prince to step forward.

"We come in peace," he declared in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to fill the air. "Let us discuss the future of our interactions, for the good of both our worlds."

Perthramar's words resonated through the tension-filled atmosphere, calming the nerves of the mermen gathered on the deck. His helmet faded away, revealing a face that bore the gravitas of a leader and the sincerity of a diplomat.

The King and Prince exchanged a glance, realizing that this colossal being before them, while undoubtedly powerful, carried an air of benevolence. Slowly, they stepped forward, their aquatic forms gracefully gliding through the water.

"We welcome your peaceful intentions," the King said, his voice echoing underwater. "I am King Thalassor, and this is my son, Prince Aquarion. We are the rulers of this water world, and we are intrigued by your presence."

Perthramar nodded respectfully. "I am Perthramar Fireheart, Primarch of the Iron Warriors, Prince and representative of the Imperium Dominus. We seek cooperation and the possibility of sharing knowledge and resources. We believe that together, we can achieve great things."

The Prince, Aquarion, spoke up, "Our world is rich in resources and ancient knowledge. We are willing to explore a partnership, as long as it benefits both our peoples and preserves the sanctity of our planet."

Perthramar extended a massive, armored hand towards them in a gesture of friendship. "Then let us begin this journey of cooperation, for the good of both our worlds."