Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 401 Give Him a More Auspicious Name
The lumen sunlight in most areas of the Destiny Steel has changed from the light gold in the morning to the platinum representing noon, but the view outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Chapter Master's office is still the velvety dark blue starry sky dotted with sugar.

The two "Fourth Primarchs" at the desk were... discussing the future of themselves, mankind, and the galaxy in a friendly manner.

To be more precise, Perturabo was forcing Ramizane, who had no intention of planning his own work schedule, to start writing his own schedule.

"Now that you've started explaining some concepts to us, you should write down a schedule so you don't forget what you said." Perturabo frowned his hairy forehead and said with extreme seriousness, while pushing the data visualization lenses on his broad nose.

"Now... because there are more humans living within our jurisdiction who identify with you from the bottom of their hearts, it's not like before when you didn't clearly state many concepts and could use some fuzzy theories and Schrödinger's cat method to make up for it if something went wrong. Now the cost and difficulty of making up for it have greatly increased. You have to write down some of the things you plan as an anchoring measure to avoid major problems with the timeline. Then terrible things will happen."

"How scary is that?"

"Well... so scary that if you don't anchor well, you or I might find ourselves waking up from a good sleep and suddenly find ourselves in the midst of a vengeful spirit..."

"Inside the body of Horus who is in the final battle with the Emperor?!"

"...or maybe you find yourself being carried into the Temple of Daven but unable to speak."

"…At this point, even if I could say, 'Hey, can we reconcile?', it would be too late… This is so scary!!! Either way, it's so scary!!!!"

"So you have to write down your schedule and fill it up so things don't become so uncertain." The dog nodded.

"Then...then you have to give me a general idea, right? What if I just write it down and you say it's not okay? Then it would be a waste of work."

"Of course. Here you go, this big form. I think it would be great to fill it up with short-term plans in fifty-year time periods." Perturabo BC casually sent a blank form file to Ramezane.

"No, writing one or two five...ten-year plans is fine, but what is this? Look at your number and see what it is that I have assigned to you?!"

"It's just twenty. A short-term plan of fifty years and a medium- and long-term plan of a thousand years should be completed step by step. Isn't that normal?"

"...Excuse me, some of your brothers have commanded their legions for less than 500 years, right? Why do you want me, a person who has only lived for a few decades, to write a thousand-year plan? Can it be written properly? You can ask me to write it, but go find me Dante from the Blood Angels or Bjorn from the Space Wolves, uh, or that one..."

"Why do you want them? To write for you?"

"At least they actually lived for a thousand years and know how much can happen in a thousand years."

"That's not necessarily true." Perturabo grinned, and Ramizane noticed that the gap between his teeth had widened recently - "What are you looking at?"

"nothing!"

So in the hours that followed, which then turned into dozens and hundreds of hours, Mr. Ramezan Kalosini, threatened by the horrible prospect of some classic horror scene being recreated, had to learn more, more, more data, historical documents, and events throughout the galaxy until -

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! I can’t stand it anymore!!! If I could have written this kind of article form in the first place, if I had worked so hard, if I had been so introverted, would my ultimate dream in the beginning have been to pass the exam to become a librarian and lie down in advance?!” Of course, the black and white border collie is a cold-blooded adult original dog, so Mr. Carlosini had to continue writing his twenty fifty-year plans even after he had collapsed.

But when he turned his attention to other possible helpers, he found that a certain black and white furry demon had already made preparations to ensure that the plan was entirely from his own hands and not interfered with.

Ramizarn was told that the former imperial regent, who was obviously good at making spreadsheets, had recently been on a business trip, possibly a long one. No one knew where he was now, and he should be on some voyage that was difficult to contact.

His Highness Angron Petra, who is theoretically a very good monarch and should have done a good job as a monarch for a long time, has already taken some of his offspring and driven his Desert Ark to the surrounding star fields for security patrols, and may not return for a long time.

The last hope is dear little Magnar Dorn, he has the database of the entire ship!
Under Ramizane's encouraging and hopeful gaze, the very helpful young artificial intelligence wrote in one go.

But when Ramizarn excitedly picked up the document and read it carefully, he found that the result written by the Iron Blood Master Controller Soul was very similar to the specious and useless texts written by some G or T in Ancient Terra, which used a lot of seemingly useful but actually useless content. - Some of it was useful, but not much.

So in the end he still had to personally compile his work word by word, painfully, but as the old Terran saying goes, the closer you are to the deadline, the more you have to slack off...

"Sage Decima, I think the name 'Improved Blue Dragon' is... not very auspicious. Perhaps you can give this powerful prototype a more auspicious name." While racking his brains, Ramizarn did not forget to think about Magna's magical mecha and Sage Decima.

The reply from the Sage Decima of the Armory came almost immediately. There was reason to believe that he was also working in multiple threads. He explained that the reason why it was called Zamyrax-Blue Dragon was because the name was based on the prototype of this mecha, the naming method of the Death Slave and Blue Bear mechas. This was logical and in line with the naming habits of the Mechanicus.

"Cang Long... uh, it really feels unlucky. Sage, I have a name here that I think will be more appropriate and auspicious. Since they are all produced in our armory, it should be okay to use our naming method."

"Your will. Since you insist on saying so, it must be some kind of omen that cannot be ignored. So, what do you plan to name him?"

Ramizane responded quickly with a single word. "Kunlun."

"Kunlun?" The other party paused. "...Unexpected, but very tasteful, sir. It is said that this place is not far from the sanctuary, and there used to be towering mountains. So, what names do you plan to ask the armory to give to the ones you plan to mass-produce?"

"Those... I've also thought about it, Sage Decima, let's call them 'Jade Dragon' types."

"Of course, Your Highness, I will record this incident on my memory chip. But may I ask? Why is the Azure Dragon unlucky, but the Jade Dragon?"

A cheerful chuckle rang out in the office. "Of course Kunlun should be followed by many Jade Dragons! Hahahaha, sage, just name the next battle group like this, they will definitely be very powerful and pure."

Although puzzled, the confidence and joy in his expression left no room for misunderstanding, so Sage Decima quickly answered.

"I see. As you wish."

(End of this chapter)