Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 902 Fragment - Part 1
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*This book is related to the background setting and is unrelated to the current plot. You can skip it if you want. Some readers have expressed interest in writing it, but I've been struggling with production for several months. If I don't write it soon, GW will have used up all the background setting information for this book.
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The massive body of the Sunrise swept past the white clouds over Terra. Above the Tropic of Cancer, where the skies were beginning to recover, clusters of tropical cyclones were gradually transforming into typhoon embryos.

"As it turns out, when a powerful and great civilization is determined, transforming Terra isn't so difficult."

Peturabo BC raised his mechanical arm and elegantly licked a cup of goat milk-based beverage to his lips.

"..." The Ironblood Machine Soul sitting opposite him remained silent, only gazing at the planet above them that was gradually regaining its ancient and beautiful blue-green color.

The planned phased population migration has ended, the Mechanicus' planetary terraforming machines have begun to arrive, and the ancient plants collected from places like Pearl Moon have begun to be planted in appropriate climate zones according to the illustrations.

Well, of course, given how many layers of nests and how many hidden people have existed in this place, things certainly won't go as smoothly as they seem on the surface.

But as Terra's ancient nobles and newly powerful figures plotted in their living rooms, salons, or ancient chambers, they were disappointed and cursed to discover that the schemes and tricks that had worked for ten thousand years were utterly insignificant in the face of the mountain formations and the orbital light spears locked onto by several Glory Queens.

Of course, there will certainly be some who put up a stubborn resistance. These nobles or bureaucrats believe that their family background or importance is enough to survive or that the new regent assesses them as worthy of negotiation and peace.

Well, unfortunately, someone, though a lazy bum, has always been very supportive and even encouraging Peturabo BC to add some ornaments to the streetlights appropriately.

He genuinely believed it helped some people fully recognize their mistakes and immediately set an excellent example for others.

The new Lord Protector of Terra, the Lord of Steel, believes that while the streetlights are good, they are too inefficient and easily exploited. He suggests that the improved version of the Staff of God, which can be launched from the sky, would have a smaller impact range but higher deterrent effect, and the amount of explosive charge is also more flexible.

So after a period of divine retribution, the dissenting voices suddenly disappeared. As for whether being taken to other planets to cultivate the land would cause a natural attrition of some people...

“Each reclamation fleet is equipped with enough Astartes instructors, vehicles, agricultural machinery and large engineering equipment, and the designated locations are all planets suitable for development. If they still can't survive or starve to death under these conditions, then perhaps they should look for the problem within themselves.”

So now that things have finally come to a close, they have a rare little bit of free time to sit together on the newly built Star Ring Platform and inspect the results of the greening and seawater restoration.

“Speaking of which, I’ve always wanted to ask a question. Although Roger Dorn can no longer answer it, as a persona born from his memories, perhaps you are the best person for me to answer it, Magna.”

Perturabo BC put down his cup, and the robotic arm elegantly wiped his hairy lips.

"what is the problem?"

"Is there any connection between Sigismund and half of the Imperial Fist being taken by Him during Dorne's most difficult days, and your eventual act of placing him on that relic device?"

Almost without thinking.

"No."

“Really?” Peturabo BC’s eyes flickered.

“Why did you suddenly think of asking this, my teacher?” Magna asked gently.

"Because Ramizam asked me a question after he finished reading the part of the book on the solar system."

"what?"

"How did Roger Dorn know from beginning to end to place the critically wounded and dying emperor on the Golden Throne?"

Peturabo BC mimicked the tone of the person involved.

"—Macardo seemed to know some backup plan, but he couldn't convey it to Vulcan and burned himself to ashes."

"When Dorn and his men arrived, Saint Gilles and Horus were already dead, and the only one still alive, the Emperor, was so badly injured that he was unable to speak or make any gestures." "From beginning to end, he never said that he wanted to sit on the throne that had just burned Macador, nor did he instruct Dorn to put him on it, did he?"

"So why didn't Dorn first summon the royal physicians and genetic experts, but instead thought of putting him on a throne that was completely unfamiliar to him? After all, the Emperor didn't even allow the Fists of the Empire to enter the throne room before."

"Isn't this the same as 'Why did Devon put Horus into a stasis field back then and not send him back to Terra to be treated by the Emperor, but instead sent him to a shabby temple on a planet that had just rebelled for the kind of treatment that even family members couldn't see?'"

"It wasn't because of the unexpected events that had already saddened him, but because of his responsibilities, he chose to protect. And in the final step, his choice at that moment, because of everything that had happened before, leaned towards an option that the emperor had never actually intended to do?"

"My answer to him was that Dorne is a stone, and since he did it, perhaps it's because he believes it's the right thing to do. But I'm also very curious about what exactly made Roger Dorne, the Terra Guard, choose such an unusual approach?"

The air between them seemed to freeze for a moment as white clouds drifted overhead across the newly green plains and hills.

"Magna?"

The Ironblood's machine spirit paused for a while, showing no reaction. Only the increasingly noticeable humming of the internal reactor reminded it that it was still running and had not been shut down.

"Magna!"

"Retrieving memory data related to this issue from the database. Please wait a moment."

The Machine Soul's death mask was expressionless, its cold, silver metal reflecting the azure ocean, the green and brown stripes of land, and the white clouds.

"Requesting higher-level data retrieval permissions... Permission denied, reason returned: code unknown."

Peturabo BC scoffed.

"Well, it seems he's keeping this secret tightly under his belt even while lying there..."

The Lord of Steel smiled enigmatically. "But the fact that a die-hard like him has a secret to hide in such a momentous matter speaks volumes. I already understand."

"Please wait……"

"Hmm?" Peturabo BC, who was walking to the door and about to leave, raised his black and white eyebrows in surprise.

"Returning data...Unpacking...Answer to the question..."

Magna Matt Dorn spoke a name.

Peturabo BC stood still for a moment, truly unexpected.

"I see."

He said.

His gaze fell on a certain spot in Terra.

"In the end, we still have to thank 'Lamizane'... Heh."

(End of this chapter)