Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 453 Trust Him (Tenth Update)

Ultimately, Roger Dorn left his command center, leaving behind those cold star charts and tactical data.

With heavy steps, he traversed the deep, heavily guarded corridors of the palace, heading towards the true core of imperial power, and his spiritual home—the Golden Throne Audience Hall.

The massive bronze gate, inlaid with the imperial eagle emblem, slowly opened before him with a soul-stirring roar.

The hall was spacious and solemn, filled with an atmosphere of energy mixed with ancient dust, and an almost tangible, soul-chilling pressure.

Light streamed down from above, focusing on the magnificent staircase at the end of the audience hall, and at the top of the staircase, on the enormous machine radiating endless brilliance and energy—the Golden Throne.

On the throne was the ruler of mankind, his father, the Emperor.

Without hesitation, Dorn stepped onto the cold stairs, each step like a drumbeat of time.

He stopped when he was close enough to the throne.

Then, this imposing Primarch, who commanded a million-strong army, knelt on one knee with utmost solemnity and piety, lowering his head, which he rarely lowered.

He did not speak, nor did he present the data board.

He knew that his father knew everything.

His vast and fragmented psychic energy, like an invisible network, still sustains the empire's existence and senses crucial turning points in its destiny.

Dorn simply recited in his heart, presenting his doubts, considerations, desires, and fears without reservation.

He pondered the intricate biological network model in Chen Yu's plan, the fine-tuned parameters designed to enhance synergy; he recalled the perfect power from the future that Reid had displayed; he also worried about the potential collapse of faith and internal rifts it might cause.

He placed this weighty decision, along with its full potential impact on the Fist of the Empire, on all Astartes, and on the future of humanity, under the radiance of the Golden Throne.

He did not ask for specific answers, but prayed for guidance, for wisdom, for the ability to see through the fog and make the right judgments that are in the best interests of humanity as a whole.

The audience hall was completely silent, except for the humming of energy emanating from the eternally rotating golden throne, like the whispers of the stars.

Time seems to have stopped at this moment.

Roger Dorn, the rock of the Empire, knelt before the Emperor of Men, awaiting revelation amidst the endless radiance and oppressive power to aid his decision.

He did not look up at the core of the light, but lowered his head, revealing without reservation all his inner weighings, hesitations, risk assessments, future projections, and the intense tug-of-war between the trust deep in his genes and the sense of responsibility as commander in this silence.

He didn't make a sound, but he knew that his father knew everything and could sense the most subtle fluctuations in the depths of his thoughts.

Time seemed to lose its linear flow in the eternal hum of the Golden Throne.

Dorn's mind worked at high speed, repeatedly examining every technical detail of Chen Yu's plan, assessing the possible chain reactions, and weighing the possibility of evidence and potential conspiracies from the future.

This is a complex logical maze, where every path leads to the unknown and comes at a high cost.

Just as the tension between the chaos and silence in his mind reached a certain critical point, an "existence" was directly imprinted deep in his consciousness.

That was not sound, not language, and certainly not any form of imagery or emotional indoctrination.

It is a pure "knowledge" that transcends all sensory limits, like an unquestionable universal law suddenly revealed.

Its form is extremely simple, yet its meaning is as heavy as a mountain.

Only two concepts, clear, cold, and absolute, were etched into his understanding:
Trust him.

There was no explanation, no reason, no conditions attached, and no warning.

It is merely the absolute instruction carried by these two words.

Roger Dorn’s entire thought process seemed to freeze in an instant, and then as if it were forcibly put back into place and calibrated by an invisible force.

All hesitation, all weighing of options, all risk assessments—before these two words, they suddenly lost their decisive weight. This did not negate his judgment as a commander, but rather provided him with a final decision-making coordinate system that transcended all complex calculations.

He understood.

This is not a suggestion, not an option to be chosen; it is the will of the Lord of Mankind.

The emperor saw what he saw, knew what he knew, and at this crossroads of destiny, gave a clear and unambiguous direction.

The "he" in "trust him" refers clearly and without a doubt to Chen Yu, who proposed the radical gene seed optimization plan.

Dorn slowly raised his head, his resolute face devoid of any emotion, but in the depths of his sharp eyes, a certain mist that had previously existed had dissipated, replaced by a re-solidified and even more determined resolve.

He no longer needed to weigh the risks and benefits of each technical node in Chen Yu's plan, no longer needed to worry about the possible reactions of other factions, and no longer needed to investigate whether future information might be contaminated.

The father has made his judgment, and his duty is to carry it out.

This does not mean that he has given up thinking or responsibility.

On the contrary, he understood that his responsibility was to ensure that this "trust" was carried out correctly and effectively.

He needs to provide Chen Yu's plan with the necessary resources, authority, and political asylum, ensure the safety and controllability of the experimental process, and be prepared to deal with possible resistance from both inside and outside the organization.

But the decision itself has already been made.

He bowed his head again, accepting the revelation with a deeper respect.

There were no words of gratitude, no impassioned vows, only silent acceptance.

For Roger Dorn, actions always speak louder than words.

He stood up, his massive body casting a long shadow in the radiance of the golden throne.

He turned around, stepped forward, and left the audience hall.

His steps were still heavy, but they carried a greater sense of unwavering certainty than when he arrived.

The plan for optimizing genetic seeds had now transformed in his mind from a proposal that required careful consideration into a task that had to be completed.

He no longer needs to scrutinize whether Chen Yu's biological network model is perfect, nor does he need to question the feasibility of endogeneous development.

The Emperor's will has given this project a legitimacy and necessity that goes beyond the level of technical details.

What he needs to consider now is how to transform this revelation from the throne into reality in the most efficient and reliable way.

He quickened his pace slightly as he walked toward the command center.

The plan was already in my mind: First, I needed to formally authorize Chen Yu to start the first phase of the "Gene Seed Systematic Optimization and Endogenous Modification Protocol"—theoretical verification and seed cultivation—and provide him with the genetic material samples derived from himself that he required.

Secondly, it is necessary to coordinate the resources of the Mountain Array to ensure an absolutely controlled experimental environment.

Next, he needed to start figuring out how, at the right time and in what way, to communicate this decision to the core of the Imperial Fist, and even to other chapters that might need it in the future, and to address the questions and challenges that would follow.

All hesitation and doubt were completely shattered by the words "trust him".

The road ahead remains full of unknowns and risks, but Roger Dorn's steps are unwavering at this moment.

He no longer only bears his own expectations for the future of his offspring, but also carries the direct will of the Golden Throne.

For the rock-solid foundation of the empire, this was clear enough guidance.

(End of this chapter)