Warhammer: Primarch's Life from the Beginning

Terra, the orbital dock, by the roadside.

Preparations for departure are in full swing.

In the troposphere, massive cranes glide slowly along the dock's framework, while large numbers of transport ships rise and fall on the helipad, accompanied by the cacophony of millions of workers and mechanics.

When Leo squeezed out of the bustling crowd, his shoulder armor almost grazed the edge of a cargo locomotive.

Several workers operating the loading machine saw him, their pupils dilated, and they hurriedly reversed to make way for him. In their panic, they lost their grip and caused the container nailed to the truck with steel plates to tip over.

Leo grabbed its side, producing a dull thud as the workers stared dumbfounded at the giant loading the goods onto the truck with his bare hands.

Leo glanced at the military markings on the box and scolded them to be more careful next time. If it were anyone else, they would have been dead already.

A service officer, sweating profusely and with a data cable hanging around his neck, immediately jogged up to greet him. He was out of breath, clearly having been working for a long time. He handed Leo a long electronic list with both hands.

"Sir...this is an overview of the supplies that have been loaded for this batch."

Leo took the data board, glanced at it, and casually signed off at the end, his movements so practiced it was almost heartbreaking.

He himself has lost count of how many times this has happened today.

I initially thought that since it was my own ship, I should inspect everything, but I didn't expect it to be so troublesome.

"Well done." Leo handed the data panel back. "Don't be nervous, I'm not going to eat you."

The officer opened his mouth, wanting to laugh but not daring to, and bent his waist even lower.

"It is my pleasure to serve you, sir."

Time passed amidst the busy loading and unloading and the noisy roar of machinery.

As the light filtered through Terra's atmosphere slowly turned a dim yellow, evening descended.

The dock was anything but quiet; spotlights shone one after another, illuminating the helipad as if it were daytime, and the transport team was still delivering goods to the belly of the Holy Commandment.

Leo stood beside a pile of huge shipping containers, inspecting a batch of ammunition that had just been delivered.

These days, I've heard that Guilliman has announced his decision to assume the position of Supreme Commander of the Empire, becoming its regent.

What followed was a reform storm that swept across Terra, with several high-ranking officials being dismissed and replaced in their own people.

He and the original Space Marines he brought with them began to fill various chapters, adjusted the rules of planetary governance, and made changes to laws, conscription, and industrial production. Most importantly, he reformed the tithe, which had been a source of great criticism among the people of the Empire.

Leo smiled slightly as he thought about this.

The ambitious Thirteenth Prince!

He casually found a sturdy metal ammunition box, sat down in the massive shadow of the Holy Commandment, rested his elbows on his knees, and watched the flow of people passing by.

Everything was proceeding along the general trajectory of history. With the Star Speakers brought by Guilliman and the normal replenishment after the resumption of the shipping routes, the Star Court reconnected with other star systems, which also meant that the Eternal Night Cataclysm had finally ended.

Then bad news followed.

Terra was almost immediately overwhelmed by a flood of interstellar communications. The messages from afar were filled with despair, plea for help, destruction, and bad news.

The Fenris sector of the Space Wolves was ravaged by the Great Rift, Armageddon was once again targeted by the Orks, the Dark Eldar were rampaging in the western Pacific Sector, and some even claimed to have witnessed a starship the size of a continent passing through the void.

Countless subspace rifts spread on an unprecedented scale, and the Holy Land was filled with chaotic anomalies that eroded reality. Filth lurked among the stars in the veil, and rebellious Chaos Space Marines spied on reality.

Every corner of the human empire is under attack by alien creatures, slaughtered by the Greenskin army, and swept away by the Tau Empire. Billions of cultists have raised the banner of rebellion, and in the face of this raging war that has engulfed the galaxy, no world of the empire has been spared.

As Leo pondered these things, his fighting spirit grew even stronger.

Looking around, all you see are those who sell their wares at bargain prices.

The Martian foundries are already operating at full capacity, naval fleets throughout the solar system are being reorganized, and weapons and shells are being delivered to the military like a tidal wave.

A full-scale war sweeping the galaxy is brewing. Guilliman has unleashed an unprecedented frenzy, and the galactic villains will once again face the wrath of humanity.

The prelude to the Unyielding Expedition has begun.

.

.

Leo boarded the warship.

The passageway was wide enough for tanks to pass side by side, crew members were constantly running on the deck, gunners were carrying ammunition boxes along the dispatch line, and a mechanical priest was talking to a valve around a disconnected wiring circuit. Hangar personnel ran past from the lower level, servo skulls floated by to pass documents, and servants pushed rows of wagons toward the storage area.

The nuns were the ones who were truly busy; Leo saw them doing all sorts of things as he walked along.

The nuns were translating obscure coded texts and organizing sacred documents. The hooded nuns' eyes darted back and forth, observing the ship's officers, both high and low.

Every so often, several long-haired servants would inspect the imperial icons; several halls were adorned with ornate pedestals for choirs; and each squad of soldiers was accompanied by a fully armed combat nun, patrolling for any signs of corruption. They were like a spread-out net, holding the entire ship's order firmly in their grasp.

Kara was among them.

She stood at the crossroads, holding the Book of the Holy Word, giving orders to several nuns in a low voice, her expression focused, occasionally raising her hand to point elsewhere.

He continued forward, passing through layers of passages, until he arrived at the bridge.

On the bridge, Catherine was talking loudly with the first mate. She held a data tablet in her hand, her gray-blue eyes fixed on the flight path projection on the table. She was looking at and exchanging various data about the ship as she did so.

She turned around after hearing footsteps, first seeing the gleaming gold power armor, and then immediately bowed.

"Your Highness." She raised her head, her tone crisp, "Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am now the captain of the Holy Commandment."

"Oh, you got promoted."

Catherine's lips curled up slightly.

"It's just that the responsibility is greater."

Leo walked to the center of the bridge and sat on the command seat high above. This seat was originally designed for a mortal general, but in order to accommodate his massive Primarch body, the technicians of the Cult of Mechanics had modified and reinforced it over the past few days, and the heavy metal backrest fit his power armor perfectly.

He leaned back and found it surprisingly comfortable.

Looking ahead, there is a wide-open view.

The surface lights of Terra flickered faintly in the distance.

Leo watched for a while, then asked:

When can this ship depart?

Catherine glanced down at the data; she wasn't quite used to this new identity yet.

"The personnel and goods are almost loaded, and we can set off late at night."

After listening, Leo tapped the armrest lightly with his finger.

The day has finally come. Let's go.