Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 376 Meeting the Original Body (Second Update)
The heavy door slowly closed behind me, shutting out all sounds from the outside world.

Under the silent guidance of the Imperial Guard, Chen Yu and Sigismund stepped into the interior of the Terra Palace.

They first passed through a gate so enormous it defied imagination, large enough for a war titan to walk through with its head held high.

Above them was a towering, mountain-like dome, and beneath their feet was a road paved with massive stones that, despite centuries of wear and tear, remained incredibly sturdy.

This place is called "Triumphal Promenade," but not for celebration; rather, it is a display of imperial power.

On the walls that stretched to the horizon on both sides were layers upon layers of defensive fortifications, with tens of thousands of Imperial Guard soldiers standing guard like steel statues, their eyes following this special group of visitors.

The air was filled with a mixture of engine oil, dust, and a faint smell of incense.

Invisible scanning rays swept over them like a tide, scrutinizing every molecule and every wisp of psionic energy.

After passing through this initial giant portal, they entered a relatively open square.

The ground was a smooth, mirror-like black stone slab, reflecting the sky above, which was distorted by a massive energy field.

In the distance, the outline of the Himalayas, covered by countless magnificent buildings and long since lost its original appearance, can still be faintly seen.

The sounds here became low and orderly, with only the operation of heavy machinery and the uniform footsteps of troops changing shifts in the distance echoing in the vast space.

Pilgrims and officials are strictly separated and guided here, and undergo more thorough checks.

The Imperial Guards did not pause for a moment; their golden figures sliced ​​through the crowd like sharp blades, and no one dared to stop them, or even look them in the eye.

They then entered the main building of the palace.

The entrance is another series of more magnificent arches, decorated with ancient reliefs and imperial symbols.

After passing through, there is a magnificent corridor that stretches as far as the eye can see.

Its width is sufficient to accommodate several knight mechs side by side, and the pillars are towering stones that reach into the dome, carved with the glorious and dark history of mankind.

The ground was made of some kind of hard, dark red material. Footsteps on it only produced tiny, hollow echoes that were quickly swallowed up by the vast space.

What was most oppressive were the golden figures standing solemnly at intervals along both sides of the corridor—the Imperial Guards.

They stood motionless like exquisite statues, but Chen Yu could clearly feel the emotionless scans emanating from beneath those ornate helmets focused on him and the two boxes.

The pressure of being silently watched by absolute power is enough to break the will of any mortal.

As they ventured deeper, the surrounding halls gradually became less vast and disorienting, but the security became increasingly tight.

The Imperial Guards were still visible, but some figures dressed in black robes and exuding an air of mystery began to appear in the shadows.

The concentration of psionic energy in the air increased significantly, and the heavy scent of incense almost solidified, as if to mask some ancient and unsettling aura.

The light also dimmed, with only the eternally burning brazier casting flickering light on the walls.

Finally, they arrived at a huge, unadorned black metal gate.

This is the end of the journey, the entrance to the Imperial Throne Room.

The surrounding air seemed to freeze, the temperature rose noticeably, and a deep, continuous rumble and hum of energy, as if originating from the core of a planet, came from behind the door, pressing on the eardrums and nerves.

The officer in charge of the Imperial Guards who were leading them stopped at the gate and turned to them.

Without a word, Chen Yu and Sigismund both knew that behind the door lay the core of the human empire, the destination they had endured so many hardships to reach.

The enormous black door began to slowly open inward.

The massive black gate closed completely behind them, utterly isolating them from the last sound from the outside world.

The vastness of the audience hall transcends visual perception; it is more like an independent, man-made world.

The air was thick with the smell of ozone, the dust of ancient rocks, and an indescribable, oppressive pressure, as if gathered from the whispers of billions of souls. At the far end of the hall was a blinding golden light, within which a colossal, incomprehensibly complex mechanical structure—the Golden Throne—was faintly visible. From there emanated a deep rumble and the hiss of energy, like the beating of the entire empire's heart.

Roger Dorne stood some distance from the throne.

Even in this vast space, his massive body still appeared imposing, clad in simple black armor, his face etched with weariness and an almost frozen resolve.

His very existence is like a fortress that can withstand any impact.

Sigismund stepped forward, bowed, and began his report in a steady voice: "Father, we have arrived. During our journey, we encountered a premeditated attack by the Greenskins, an interception by traitorous Death Guards, and attacks from Mars..."

Dorn raised a hand, interrupting Sigismund.

The Primarch's gaze didn't even linger on him, but went straight past him and locked firmly on Chen Yu, as well as the two specially made boxes carried by the technical priest beside him.

“Those trivial matters can be discussed later.” Dorn’s voice was like the grinding of rocks, carrying an undeniable focus. “Sage Chen Yu, show us what you have brought.”

Chen Yu's mechanical body leaned forward slightly, and he performed a gear salute with his two native arms.

He didn't say anything extra, and directly issued the instructions.

A tech priest stepped forward, opened one of the boxes, and revealed the intricately structured ecosphere inside.

After receiving Dorn's tacit approval, Chen Yu activated the device.

Inside the ecosphere was originally a sterile, inorganic environment mixed with sand and rocks typical of the dead world.

As the primordial particles were released in minute quantities, visible changes began to occur.

Gravel begins to recombine, coalescing into a matrix with soil-like properties, while tiny water droplets precipitate from the air, gathering into a thin mist.

Immediately afterwards, a faint green sprouted from the soil at an abnormal speed, quickly spreading out to form an extremely small but vibrant moss community, which even produced a few pale flowers the size of pinheads.

The entire process was completed in silence, creating a stark contrast with the surrounding cold, grand metallic and stone environment.

From nothing to something, from death to life, it was demonstrated right before this imperial throne.

Dorn stared at the miniature greenery, his brow furrowing slightly on his usually glacial face, and a barely perceptible glint of amazement and extreme caution flashed in his eyes.

He was about to ask something.

Just then, another box was opened.

The hastily constructed warp drive core was revealed, its streamlined casing a stark contrast to the Empire's rugged technological style.

Almost the instant it was exposed to the air in the audience hall—

An indescribable, vast will, as boundless as the starry sea, suddenly descended and enveloped the entire space.

It didn't come through sound, but rather resounded directly in the minds of all conscious beings, carrying an unquestionable absolute authority and a weight that transcended eternity: "Promote it."

This will originates from the direction of the Golden Throne, clear and cold, yet it seems to contain the last hope for saving civilization.

The entire audience hall fell into a deathly silence; even the roar of the throne's machinery seemed to be suppressed at this moment.

The technical priests stood frozen in place, while Sigismund knelt on one knee and bowed his head.

Rogue Dorn, the Primarch known for his iron will, after a brief moment of shock, took a deep look at the warp drive core, then turned toward the throne and solemnly lowered his head, which he had never bowed so easily.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The Emperor has personally issued the decree.

All arguments have become meaningless at this moment.

(End of this chapter)