Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 846 Your universe has so many tricks up its sleeve, let's go!
After all the data and information provided by Colonel Fedorak were fed into LOGOS's computing system, the final output of this power armor, which was loaded with a large number of campaign modes, was not much different from the colonel's original decision.

"Staying here is tantamount to waiting for death. Without reinforcements and food supplies, the chances of successfully holding out and waiting for reinforcements are far lower than breaking out immediately."

Ramizan said that Sergeant Malak looked a little confused, but Colonel Fedorak looked completely at ease.

"Of course, the chances of breaking out immediately are not 100%. Even if you distribute weapons to all the remaining residents in the city who can carry guns and charge out together, the chances of success are only 31%."

“This is too low…” Sergeant Malak said in a low voice, “Perhaps we should…”

"...but the success rate of holding out and waiting for reinforcements steadily decreased with the increase of hours, and after just eighteen days, it fell below five percent as food reserves decreased to a certain level."

The sergeant shut his mouth.

"But I have some good news. Sergeant, perhaps you can go and inform your comrades."

"Uh? Sir?"

"With my armor added... I mean, with my participation added as a variable, the estimated success rate of the campaign has increased to 75%! It's absolutely worth the gamble!"

Actually, LOGOS is quite wronged.

It calculated that its success rate in fighting alongside Peturabo was 100%, but due to the disturbance caused by Ramizan wearing the armor, the success rate dropped to 85%. Furthermore, due to the Seres' characteristic tendency to be overly optimistic in their assessments, Ramizan ultimately reported a success rate of 75%.

In addition, LOGOS actually offers a plan with a 300% success rate.

However, the specific implementation of his suggestion, which was to cut Zaunor into his Dreadnought wet form and stuff it into LOGOS as a psionic add-on, was immediately and seriously rejected.

"Indeed! This is truly inspiring, sir!"

Colonel Fedorak glanced at Ramizan, who then spoke up as if struck by a sudden inspiration, “Distribute the weapons to any citizen who can still pull the trigger, Sergeant. Tell them we only need them to follow us out of the east gate and keep their laser guns on the trigger until the batteries run out, and to shoot at any living thing that is not one of our own.”

"Yes, sir!"

"Also, tell them to take all the men, women, children, and everyone else they want to take with them, and not to leave anyone behind."

"Yes!"

"Finally, have the logistics officer distribute all the saved food, water, and other supplies to everyone! Only when everyone is well-fed and watered will they have the confidence to fight back!"

"Yes!"

Colonel Fedorac listened to the order being issued without uttering a sound. He turned and looked up at the portrait of the god-king on the cathedral altar, who looked down upon all living beings. The once exquisite and noble face, which had looked down on all living beings with indifference, had been cracked by the shelling, revealing an even more ancient but touching face behind it.

“What are you looking at, Colonel?” Zao noticed the colonel’s gaze.

“I’m looking at… the Emperor’s face. Look, child, the one behind is much more vivid than the one in front.” Fedorak pointed to the original face revealed behind the mural.

Zan looked up, and when his eyes met the deep eyes of the ancient portrait, he screamed, covered his eyes, and fell backward.

"Zan'o?!"

Lamizain turned around and saw a burst of blue-purple demonic flames turn into ashes from the boy's head.

"Are you OK?!"

--------

"Hey! Wait! Wait! Don't stuff me in! I've found it! I've found it!"

The pigeon stretched its neck and squawked loudly, while the anxious Diocletian was bound hand and foot and was being sat on by the laughing Wolf King as a stool—this Guardian had just finally had a formal confrontation with a Primarch, and his Kushti wrestling was subdued by the Wolf King's Grimal wrestling in one move. Of course, this might also have been due to the fact that a Raven Guard had extended a leg from the shadow in front of the Guardian's ankle.

In short, just when someone was about to be turned into a pigeon cannonball by the increasingly impatient Peturabo BC, good news still arrived in time.

Of course, it wasn't that the still unreachable Imperial Guard fortress had finally sent back scan results, but rather that Pigeon discovered that a true portrait of him from eight thousand years ago had suddenly resurfaced and was activated for a moment by the active psionic frequency nearby.

Then He saw Zao Eifernetti's eyes, and in a brief glance, used His wings to slap the Chaos Corruption away. After obtaining information about the location of the missing large and small, He triumphantly returned to the Ironblood.

"Alright, your ancient psionic energy still has some foundation after all... Let us see, Sabathius? Prospero Galaxy?"

On the holographic star map that Magna Dorn immediately unfolded for everyone in his office, the region containing the Prospero Galaxy was framed from the Milky Way and then magnified.

The Emperor and the six Primarchs (?) strained their eyes, searching every region of this starry sky.

"..."

"..."

In the end, it was Peturabo BC who launched the first attack.

"The planet Sabathus doesn't exist in the Prospero Sector at all!! You old fool! I think you're asking for a beating!"

"What nonsense! You just said I had a strong foundation! And now you're calling me an old man! You unfilial son!"

“Go tell him that! Look for yourself!” Peturabo BC stretched out his mechanical finger and pointed to the stars on the star map. As his fingertip moved, each star and the planets around it revealed their names.

"I have reason to believe that there is only one Prospero star sector in this galaxy, which is close to the solar star sector. And look here, Prospero star sector, Fuzare system, Prospero! The system where this planet is located is not called Prospero. The star map of this Ironblood shows four existing planets in it: Prospero, Megavida, Telkan, and Halkin—where is Sabathius? And where is the Prospero system?"

“But…but it really is that name!” The pigeon flapped its wings. “I even cleaned the child’s head for him; there’s definitely some Tzeentch’s residue there, it’s a perfect match!”

"...You already said there's a Tzeentch contamination, and you still believe this place really exists? You've probably been fooled by it!"

"I have a suggestion."

Pallas, who looked somewhat exhausted, suddenly made a suggestion.

“We have Ruth here, don’t we? Ruth should know the route to Prospero and the local star map very well, right? After all, he led a fleet from Nicaea near the solar system to Prospero and destroyed it. He must have studied the entire system.”

"..."

The Wolf King stopped drinking and looked at Pallas with eyes that seemed to say, "Why did you suddenly bring this up? I misjudged you."

"Haven't you done any research?"

“I have studied it.” Ruth’s expression suddenly turned tired and aged. “But the problem is…”

He rubbed his eyes. "My brain is telling me that this star system has a planet called Sabathius, and the star system is indeed called Prospero, but..."

He pointed to the shimmering star chart, "I don't see anything wrong with this star chart, it's as if I've experienced both routes before..." "That's very interesting."

The border collie and the pigeon stopped arguing and looked at each other.

"Theoretically, the Primarch's brain shouldn't experience this level of memory confusion, but such a strong temporal overlap shouldn't occur in Ruth, who has never left this place."

“That’s hard to say,” Clark’s possessed body interjected. “I’ve heard Horus’s thirty-year-long list of names near Terra in multiple timelines, but he simply didn’t…”

"Let's hurry to the divination hall left by Magnus to sort out Russ's fate and see if there's anything inconsistent. Let's not delay. I'm just as anxious about the whereabouts of the missing, especially since it involves the weaving of fate."

The pigeon swiftly opened its mouth to interrupt the crow king's words.

"Wait, who did you just say? Who's going to do this?!" Ruth shouted alertly.

"Of course it's me!" the pigeon puffed out its chest. "Do you think you can rely on yourself?!"

--------

Thankfully, thanks to Peturabo's incremental repairs and Magna's diligent maintenance, the Ironblood Divination Hall is currently functioning normally.

After some closed-door work, they came to a conclusion.

"...In other words, due to the Great Rift, or the change in our fate, or both, they were thrown into a different spacetime that belongs to our universe, and this spacetime is considered a 'subset' of our universe rather than another spacetime?"

Pallas frowned and repeated it. "What do you mean? Parallel universes?"

“It’s not parallel,” Pigeon said. “Strictly speaking, the most likely scenario is that their part of the universe began to differ from our physical universe sometime before or after the opening of the Great Rift, but the difference wasn’t large enough to be divided into parallel universes. This can be better explained by set theory.”

"Well... alright, then which side does the planet Sabathius actually exist on?"

“Unfortunately,” Peturabo BC said, his brow furrowed so tightly it could trap a fly. “They’re with Ramizan and the others, not with us. In other words, from here we can only reach Prospero in the Fuzare system, not Sabathius.”

"How do we get to a planet that doesn't exist in our universe?"

“The key is that it’s not enough for us to tell you that there’s a Sabathus there and you can get there,” the pigeon added. “You have to be here with us and know from the beginning that there’s a Prospero system there, that’s what it takes.”

"……so……?"

"Therefore, we need someone who believes that Sabathus exists normally in this universe to provide us with a navigation star map so that we can get there."

“But that in itself is a paradox for anyone who is told this,” Peturabo frowned. “If a person arrives here from that side, their cognition will be immediately contaminated. An existence cannot be fully defined by both universes at the same time; it will always tend to stabilize on one side.”

"What should I do?"

Just when everyone was at a loss, Magna Dorn suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve received an encrypted file,” Machine Soul said. “It’s from an anonymous person. It says that everything has a cause and effect. Why don’t you go and see the answer brought by the ‘Son of Saint Gillespie’?”

"Do you still have any descendants of Saint Gilles here?" Russ asked.

"Yes, brother, yes."

“Well then,” Peturabo BC looked around at his brothers at the table, “the next question.”

Who among us is the most suitable to step forward?

--------

Thus, the weeping man, Malakin Foros, and the flesh-tearing man, Wot Chaska, were politely but forcefully led onto the bridge control deck of this enigmatic ship by several silver-painted Astartes and mechs.

"Terra by your side!"

As a competent chapter commander, Malakin Foros immediately recognized the ship's terrifying level of automation and its unusually large size.

"What's wrong?" Warren didn't immediately notice the problem, but was amazed by the ship's beauty and power.

“I’ve never seen this ship before. It’s much larger than my lost Mother of Tears,” Malakin stepped forward, gripping the deck railing and looking down at the densely packed, almost unmanned control panels and the incredibly sophisticated equipment. “And the Mother of Tears was one of the largest combat barges I’ve ever seen. Do you understand what that means?”

“Actually, I’m not too sure,” the Flesh Tearer answered honestly. “I spend more of my time screening new recruits, practicing combat, and fighting. I’m not a fleet master.”

“I mean, this ship is very likely a Glory Queen battleship.” When he said this, Malakin almost subconsciously lowered his voice, as if he might disturb the non-existent ghosts around him.

Warren's eyes widened.

"Considering such terrible bloodline and identity, their judgment is not bad."

The two sons of Saint Gilles frowned simultaneously and turned around abruptly, alert.

The Imperial Eagle on the gleaming gold armor, along with the iconic power halberd and red tassel on the helmet, came into their view.

"Unexpectedly..."

Diocletian Kroos, the (former) tribunal protector of the plebs, appeared before the weeping and tearing men.

"Get in."

The Imperial Guard pointed to two mechanical seats on the bridge, next to the command throne, with numerous menacing cable interfaces on their headrests.

"Now, the Emperor needs the star map data in your minds."

He said calmly.

------

"...His mysterious three-pronged approach is incredibly effective, even though they seem quite averse to Diocletian," Pallas pointed out while watching the monitor in his office.

"So what? As long as a member of the Imperial Guard says, 'I have my secret mission,' 'Your loyalty will be shown in obedience,' and 'No comment,' and then vouches for the ship's legitimacy and purity, their understanding will not be corrupted, and they will be able to do as we ask. Perfect. That's enough."

“Magna, when you connect to Malakin Forros, make sure you have enough redundancy and make extra backups.”

"of course."

A moment later, after communicating with the remaining personnel at the Wandering Port, the Destiny Steel adjusted its course and began its journey to the ever-changing spacetime on the other side of the galaxy.

(End of this chapter)