Chapter Sixteen: The Court of Destiny (Part II)
Location: The Outer Palace
Date: 793.M31
The Emperor's return was met with grand fanfare. Festivals were held across humanitys homeworld. Pict-casts of the Emperor's speech announcing the Treaty of Mars were shown in every settlement. From sprawling hives to barren junk-towns the Master of Mankind words brought joy to the people. Unification was coming and soon humanity would never need to fear the darkness.
Thousands of Tech-Priests and Mechanicum officials had arrived onboard both the Bucephalus and the veritable fleet of Martian ships that had jocked for the honor of being part of the Omnissiah honor-guard and to work on his most holy tasks. Soon stalled projects and sluggishly developing infrastructure had the minds and augments of Martian Priests to guide the throngs of Terran labor.
Terrawatt Clan elders and Martian Magos's exchanged knowledge and were overjoyed to meet their like-minded kin from across the void. Terran nobles met with the strange Mechanical-Men from Mars and political pacts and trade agreements were drawn up as the two cultures realized the benefits they could provide each other.
The Emperor returned to his children and both father and sons rejoiced at their reunification. In the few years since his leaving the Primarchs had grown into strong youths. Not quite men yet but more than boys. Gifts crafted with supernatural intellect and acquired from Mars were exchanged. Stories of youth and adventure within the ever-growing palace along with brotherly boasting met the Emperors. He had forgotten the simple joys of being a parent in the long millennia since he last fathered children.
The Legions were also growing in number. Ten thousand years of the souls of Loyal Apothecaries and Magos Genetor's experience with creating new Astartes was put to good use. The Process had been refined and mastered to such a degree that with a compatible applicant rejection was virtually unheard of. Current estimates showed the Legions with larger candidate pools would reach nearly a hundred thousand Marines by the time they left Sol.
Sadly that estimate would not come true due to future events. The fallout from the brewing troubles on Luna would injure the infant Legions, but it would be a small price to pay for the events it would set in motion.
The Legions were already seeing the effects of the corruption among the new recruits. Resistance to Hypno-indoctrination, morale and discipline issues, seemingly random catastrophic Gene-Seed Rejections. This puzzling list of symptoms was the effect of the madness the Selenar cults had tainted the Gene-Seed with. This was only the beginning when the Cult struck countless horrors would be unleashed. Each Legion would be torn apart by chaotic corruption and insanity.
Instead of the fatal blow to the Imperium like the Ruinous Powers wished this calamity would be a crucible. The Legions, the Primarchs, and the Imperium would come away from it stronger and prepared to face the horrors of the galaxy. Of course, the Emperor left nothing to chance and countless contingencies were being prepared to ensure the optimal outcome.
The first few months of the Emperor's return were spent working on Terran-Martian integration along with some much overdue time with the Primarchs. It pleased him to see how much they were growing into fine young men. Showing the best of what they could be and thankfully little of the vainglorious Demi-Gods the God-Emperor dealt with.
So as time passed the Emperor acquired more time to work on his contingencies and other projects. By his own personal design the Emperor was rather uninvolved with Imperial governance, and only took an active role when it was absolutely required. While his role as Emperor of Mankind was far more involved and public than most of his masks from human history it while all the others were temporary. Humanity could not be allowed to become reliant on him.
The God-Emperor's memories had shown how effective and enduring the Imperial government was. Even when utterly crippled by dogma, paranoid ignorance and a never-ending tide of devastation it had survived and more or less thrived for ten thousand years. The Barbaric grimdark atrocity his ambitions had once been doomed to become was the longest lasting continuous civilization in human history. If guided correctly by his hand the Imperium and what came after it would survive and thrive for far far longer.
Some of the contingencies to ensure the Imperiums survival along with so many other secrets were located within a series of vaults deep within the Imperial Palace. These vaults and chambers were some of the most well protected and hidden sections of the sprawling megastructure. This Dungeon was home to the Emperor's laboratories. A complex filled with artifacts, equipment, and personnel selected to assist him in his endeavors.
The curious design of the Palace strangely allowed straight accesses from the Dungeons entrance to the Lion Gate. This, of course, was an effect of the Emperor's planning. Within a few centuries, the entirety of the labs content would be moved elsewhere and the space would become the nexus and heart of the Imperial Webway. For now, it was a subterranean domain of science and sorcery diligently working in secret for the Master of Mankind.
Today was one of the days he had an opportunity to journey to the Imperial Dungeon. A testy round of negotiations involving the Navis Nobility and Mechanicum had finished thanks in part to his arbitration. The Primarchs were away from the Palace leading Astartes sorties against the various filth and monsters that dwelled below the surface of Terra. Even as youths their mastery of strategy and command was virtually unparalleled. It was good practice for both them and the Legions while helping purify humanities home. So with the wheels of governance and parenting running smoothly, the Emperor could work on his projects.
This particular day the Emperor journeyed to the Gene-smithing and flesh-crafting segment of the Labs. Here the lore and equipment used to create the Legions and Primarchs were stored along with countless other wonders. Here infants were reforged into his Custodes, secrets of the Golden Age were relearned and weapons to drive back the dark were created.
The Laboratory was kept separate and secret from the rest of the Imperium. It was a self-sufficient pocket of research and manufacturing complexes designed to ensure that no matter what the treaties with Mars or Lex Imperialis said the Emperor possessed his own private forge an army greater than any other. Secrets never to be divulged and resources never to be shared were put to good use providing the Emperor an edge over any threat to his ambition. Be they external monsters or internal strife.
Passing through the great blast doors into the Genelab the Emperor and his guards were greeted with bows and other marks of supplication by the researchers and gene-crafters. With a motion, he commanded the Laboratories staff to continue working. His intense Psychic Halo dimmed to tolerable levels. Enough to inspire awe and increase productivity through adoration but not enough turn the find minds witnessing it into blubbering sycophants. Learning to control his aura and its effects on mortals had been one of the first things the Shaman spirits had taught him.
The Gene-Labs were staffed by entire Selenar Clans and Terrawatt tech-lineages that had been transplanted to the secret realm of the Laboratories. Each had been selected and groomed for not only intellectual and technical skill but fanatical loyalty. The fools spreading worming corruption beneath Luna's surface were chaff, useful for mass-producing the Legions but ultimately expendable. Yet another pawn to be sacrificed in his never-ending gambit.
Large sections of the Gene-labs were given over to the fantastically complicated apparatus needed to create Custodes. Each Astartes was a sword pointed at mankind's foes and created from twenty specialized molds. The Custodes instead were master-worked spears meant to guard the species future. Not pressed out of a mold but artfully created. Here in these labs the blueprints and designs penned by the Emperor were used to craft his personal Legion. In another time and era, those blueprints would have been reused for ten thousand years by the grieving Custodes to ensure replenish themselves. After all, any sufficiently talented smith could follow a genius's blueprints.
Other parts contained massive sequencer engines. Primitive but powerful devices designed to allow the mass organization of genetic codes. One of the more subtle and hidden parts of the Emperors Plan involved guiding humanities evolutionary path. With every unified world, another set of genes would be collected covertly and added to his Archives. These engines would compile and organize the data allowing a more accurate map of the countless variants of humanity. With time this information would be used to help cultivate the next generation of the species, and guide them down the shining path.
Yet neither of these wonders nor the countless others contained within the Genelab were the focus of the Emperors work today. That honor fell to the Labyrinth Vaults, an isolated segment of the Labs that contained the remains of the Primarch Project. They had not been locked away after the creation of the Legions like in the God Emperor's time for a desperate Raven to find. Instead, they continued the Great Work.
Entering the Lab he glanced down at the ornate tiles and whispered to himself the message transcribed in an ancient cipher upon the entrance halls floor.
"In Egypt's sandy silence, all alone,
Stands a gigantic Leg, which far off throws
The only shadow that the Desert knows:—
"I am great OZYMANDIAS," saith the stone,
"The King of Kings; this mighty City shows
"The wonders of my hand."— The City's gone,—
Naught but the Leg remaining to disclose
The site of this forgotten Babylon.
We wonder,—and some Hunter may express
Wonder like ours, when thro' the wilderness
Where London stood, holding the Wolf in chace,
He meets some fragment huge, and stops to guess
What powerful but unrecorded race
Once dwelt in that annihilated place."
It was an ancient poem, one of two penned by friends of the Emperor. Both testaments to the fall of Empires and hubris. The Emperor had developed the habit of leaving such historical references and oddities in his trail millennia ago. It helped ground the ancient immortal and provide a trail of breadcrumbs for future historians to follow. A more wistful part of Revelation hoped in a future where humanity was prepared to survive the cosmos his saga could be told. Secrets and illusions had colored his existence out of sheer necessity and hopefully, one-day humanity would be ready to learn the epic truth of him and the species.
On another level, the nature of the poem was an attempt to apologize and recognize the Imperium for what it was. Despite its necessity, the Imperium of Man would be an authoritarian imperialistic feudal genocidal state. That truth never escaped the Emperor. If evil must be committed to preserving humanity he would commit it. Any sin he would shoulder to protect his people from the darkness that sought their extinction. Hopefully, future generations would acknowledge it as the grim last chance of the species and forgive him and all those he had ordered to commit terrible crimes for the sake of survival.
Entering the Labyrinth Vaults proper the Emperor was greeted with the smell of growth-chemicals and the steady hum of maturation-vats. Here in the great chamber where the remnants of the Primarch Project had been repurposed was the single largest repository of Gene-seed that would ever exist.
Filling the chamber were hundreds of dozen meter tall growth racks. Each structure containing thousands upon thousands of progenoids glands. Row after row of plasti-glass storage vials held the rapidly maturing gene-seed. This collection contained enough progenoids to field tens of millions of Astartes. The Primarchs from infancy had been capable of producing an immense amount of Gene-seed and only a fraction of that had been sent to Luna for the creation of the Legions.
The only true limit to a Legions size when its Primarch was available to produce gene-seed was the number of applicants and military infrastructure. Thanks to the knowledge taken from the future applicants were plentiful and Mars provided all the Legions could need. Soon millions of Astartes would march under the Aquila. Bringing death to humanity's enemies and safety to its scattered worlds.
The moment he entered the chamber his Psychic aura cascaded through it, alerting the staff of their master's presence. Instead of Selenar or other similar technicians, this laboratory was staffed by Astartes. The Legionaries who in a decade would form the beginning of the Apothecary corps had been handpicked to assist the creation of the Legions. Each had been selected from the intellectual elite of their legions recruitment districts. Two hundred of the finest young minds of Terra ready to serve and learn from the Emperor the secrets of the Astartes.
The Apothecaries who were on shift assembled and knelt before him. They were not much older than his own children. Recruited as teenagers instead of the youths common to the legions, they had been old enough to prove themselves worthy of this honor.
At his command, they rose. Each despite their repeated exposure and strong spirits were enthralled utterly by the Emperor's power. He was the Master of Mankind by his will alone and his gene-forged descendants knew that in their souls and embraced it. All except one, he resisted with every ounce of his being. Not out of disloyalty or spite. No, this Apothecary resisted because he was the most fanatically and devout of them all.
He was younger than his brethren, personally selected by the Emperor while touring the Ingolstadt Hive of the Jermanic Federation of Europa. His family had been a wealthy aristocratic clan of intellectuals and loyal subjects of the Imperium. Having the youngest son of the current Heir be chosen to become one of the Emperors Angels was the highest honor.
From there the child had survived the trials of augmentation intact. Iskandar's geneseed had proved highly compatible and he took to his training perfectly. Along with the 199 other Apothecaries he had studied under the elite of the Emperors genetics laboratories and even witnessed the Emperor himself at work. After that display only he had the gall to ask the Master of Mankind questions.
The Apothecary knew he would be penalized for his transgression by his superiors but desired to know the answer outweighed his distastes for punishment. The Emperor answered his question and then took him aside and answered every question the young astartes could ask. The knowledge shared had rattled the young warrior to the core while lighting a blaze of loyalty and desire to fulfill the Emperor's ambitions in his mind.
These events and most of the Apothecaries life had been in fact carefully orchestrated by the Court of Destiny and the Emperor himself. It had been both an experiment and test. An experiment to see if the terrible truths of the cosmos could be used in such a way to inspire loyalty and resolve. The Apothecary had been a resounding success he desired humanities salvation and attempted to resist the Emperor's power, as a way of trying to become more like the Master of Mankind's vision of humanity.
The test was to see if this once curious youth from Ingolstadt could break the fate the Prince of Pleasure had decreed for him. So far Apothecary Fabius of the III Legion had gone above and beyond the call of duty and was proving to possess the intellect and skills of his alternate self. While maintaining empathy and sanity keenly lacking in the manslayer.
Fabius had risen through the ranks of the Apothecary Corp to the title of Apothecarium Primus of the III Legion and Alumnus Augustus. He had studied under the Emperor and become a master of the arts of gene-forging and Astartes creation. The loyalty and skills he had shown earned him the place as Project Leader on the work the Emperor had arrived at the Lab to oversee.
After the initial greetings and updates on various project progress, the Emperor's Custodes and Fabius adjourned to a side chamber. Their information was exchanged and timetables were updated. They were unlike many aspects of the Crusade ahead of schedule. Batch after batch of the pure Gene-Seed was being produced. This was not the mutation-prone half finished augments of the God-Emperors warriors, this breed of Astartes was more akin to Cawl and the Avenging Sons enhanced warriors.
Possessing a suit of Twenty Four Augments instead of the original nineteen these warriors were stronger, faster, and more adaptable than thought possible. Knowledge taken from the Dead of the Grimdark future including destroyed replicates of Belisarius Cawl had allowed this perfection of the Astartes Project. While physically and mentally perfect these warriors still possessed chinks in their armor. Chinks that must be addressed, that duty partially fell to Fabius.
As they finished their discussion Fabius breached the topic that required the Emperor's presence: "My Liege your presence informs you already know this, but our supplies of the substance are reaching intolerable lows. It pains me to say this but our current estimates indicate at least three more donations are required before the required Gene-Seed can be produced."
At the mention of the "substance", the Custodes grip on their spears noticeably tightened. Its use and extraction went against every fiber of the Custodes being. It was the closest to torture a member of that order could experience. Even if it was authorized by the Emperor it pained his bodyguards immensely.
The Substance was one of the rarest and most powerful artifacts in the Imperium let alone the galaxy. Its biological and psychic properties were beyond counting. The term priceless did not come close to describing the importance and rarity of it. Its nature and source were obscured with various clinical terms for utmost secrecy was required. If an enemy acquired even an infinitesimal sample of it hell would be unleashed.
Nodding solemnly the Emperor spoke in his hypnotic mixture of spoken and psychic communication: "Understandable, we shall extract another donation today. I do not know the next opportunity I will be able to return to the Laboratory so we will do twice the typical amount. That should last until I am available again once we near Solar reunification"
Any lesser being feeling what the Custodes were would have begged the Emperor not to, he must reconsider. These were not lesser beings and would not fall prey to such weakness. Even in the face of the very thing they were created to prevent. The Emperor's blood being spilled.
For that was what the Substance was, the Emperor's lifeblood itself. It would be used by Fabius and his colleagues to help ensure humanity's future and that was a cause the Master of Mankind would always give too.
Following Fabius to the donating chamber, the Emperor of Mankind waited while Fabius prepped the equipment, to harvest let alone preserve such a substance was beyond the capabilities of simple needles and tubing. The hum of the machinery was matched with faint golden sparks occasionally erupting from the Emperor. Subtle but powerful biomancy was underway. Bone-Marrow was supercharged and blood composition was altered to better suit the Projects needs.
At last the great Sanguine machine came to life. Its receptor extended and opened. Its hollow tubular shape was perfectly sized for the Emperor's forearm. With a thought, the sleeve of his left arm faded out of being and he placed his perfectly muscled forearm into the device. With the hiss of machinery, a specially designed and sanctified needle entered the Master of Mankind's vein.
Enough blood to exsanguinate any mortal man was steadily drained from him. Psychically supercharged biology racing against pumps inscribed with ruins of warding and power. After an hour or so gallons of blood had been extracted and the machine came to a stop. More blood than was physically possible to fit in the Emperor's body now filled unique holding vessels. The wound closed the minute the needle left the Emperor's flesh. Utterly unperturbed by the donation he had just given the Master of Mankind left the Chamber with Fabius and the Custodes trailing him.
As he looked over the thousands and thousands of Progenoids that would each be exposed to far less than a drop of his own blood a single somber thought filled the Emperor's ancient and powerful mind. "I hope it will be enough."
Final words were exchanged with Fabius and the Emperor prepared to work on the other projects that demanded his attention. So much needed to be done and time was scarce. If he failed quadrillions would be damned. There was so much yet to be done, so many threats and dangers to face. He would face them all and do whatever it took. The Legions would secure the galaxy for humanity and he then his people would be safe to walk the Shining path of Ascension.