Warhammer: Empire Reboot

One second he was still in Agrippina's latrine.

In this instant, he stood securely beneath the starry sky of Beius-III.

Dante approached him.

"Company Commander Kyle Varus."

Welcome home.

Kyle formally reported: "Your Excellency, Regent."

"Kyle Varus, commander of the 3rd Assault Company of the Lamenters Chapter, has led the remaining 211 members of the Chapter back to the unit from Agrippina Purgatory!"

Dante solemnly returned a salute from the Blood Angels, the highest level of battlefield military salute.

"I have received it."

"Since it was the Lord Commander who personally ordered the disbandment of the camp, then you can all rest and recuperate on the ship."

“I assure you, I will mend the broken ranks of the mourners with my purest blood, drop by drop.”

Our attention returns to Agrippina.

The withdrawal of the Lamenters Chapter left no gap in firepower.

The raging Bear Guards, the ghostly White Tigers, the absolutely obedient combat suicide soldiers, and the massive number of non-combat suicide soldiers pouring in like a black tide through the main star gate have taken over all the fortresses and trenches of Zone One with the force of mercury.

The camera then returns to the refugee assembly point five kilometers away, where the 32,000 remnants of the Qadian people still kneel on the cold frozen ground like devout pilgrims.

Lawson began to walk toward them.

He walked straight into the depths of the crowd.

He stood casually among these 32,000 mortals.

Standing amidst these pathetic remnants, abandoned by their home planet, forgotten by their families, and ground into disposable commodities by this ruthless world of casting for years.

"People of Kadian."

"This empire has never forgotten the sacrifice of Kadian."

A simple sentence instantly shattered their defenses.

Of the 32,000 kneeling refugees, more than half burst into uncontrollable, frantic sobs.

"On the day the Gate of Cadia shattered completely, the great Primarch Guilliman stood on the edge of the Warp and recited the true names of your valiant defenders! Every fallen warrior who defended Cadia has an eternal place in the Primarch's private roster."

"And you are the blood relatives of those immortal heroes. You are the fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives, husbands, and children of the warriors of the 8th Infantry Regiment, the 14th Heavy Armored Regiment, the 22nd Orbital Assault Regiment, and the 47th Anti-Chaos Special Forces Company who created the legend."

“Your dearest relatives shed their last drop of blood on the scorched earth of Kadian to stop the iron hooves of heretics.”

“You yourselves, after becoming refugees and exiled to this cold world of casting, are forced to continue bleeding in this meat grinder.”

Lawson's voice was like a deafening clap of thunder in spring:

"But the Holy Empire will never abandon any of the orphans of Kadian!"

"So, today, I'm here!"

As he announced this, the imperial light hovering above his head increased in brightness once again at a visible rate, its dazzling pure gold radiance almost stinging the eyelids of the crowd.

"From this moment on, from this instant, I, Cole Lawson, the Dark Side of the Empire, with the absolute authority granted to me by His Excellency Regent Dante, swear an iron oath to all of you present here."

"From now on, there will never again be a single Qadian refugee driven like livestock to the front lines to fill mines!"

"From now on, there will never again be a family member of a Kadian refugee who is forcibly dragged onto an operating table and transformed into a cold, scrap metal servant!"

"From now on, there will never again be a single Qadian refugee forced to lie naked and starving, clutching their frozen child, waiting to die in the swirling snow of Agrippina!"

"This is the final promise the Empire has given to Kadian."

Lawson's gaze swept across the tear-stained faces like a torch:

"From this day forward, from this very second, these words are officially in effect."

Within the assembly area, from septuagenarians to infants crying in their swaddling clothes, these 32,000 fragmented souls, upon hearing this judgment-like rebuke, experienced a complete collapse of all the defenses they had painstakingly suppressed and numbed themselves for years.

It was a torrent of wailing and sobbing.

The cry was like the heart-wrenching scream of someone who had been struggling in a pitch-black hole for years, their body and soul devoured, when suddenly they saw a faint glimmer of light overhead and realized they could finally cry out without restraint.

Those were countless emaciated mothers who, for the past 1,500 long, dark nights, could only bite their own hands tightly, hiding in the darkest corner of the air-raid shelter, not daring to let their hungry children notice their tears.

Today, they can finally let loose and cry uncontrollably in broad daylight, holding their children.

Those were veterans who had witnessed their home planet shatter, their comrades die, their wives and daughters disappear, and even the pride they held in Cadian was about to be forgotten under the intense pressure.

When they finally heard a high-ranking person stand before them and tell them unequivocally, "The Empire has not forgotten," a desperate roar was forcibly torn out from the deepest part of their lungs, which were full of hidden wounds.

Not far away, Ella was also kneeling in the muddy crowd.

The 8th Infantry Regiment of Kadian had 1,100 men left this morning, but only 240 have returned.

She had just come out of medical tent number three.

The seriously wounded company commander Kane's abdomen was finally stabilized, and she only came out to get some fresh air after he fell into a deep sleep.

She had hoped to find some usable bandages in the ruins.

Then, she witnessed the miracle.

It wasn't until her knees scraped against the sharp pebbles that she belatedly realized she had knelt down.

Ella knelt in the dirty snow, and the nameplates of her father, brother, and mother crashed to the ground into the mud mixed with blood.

Due to lack of oxygen, she cried so hard that she couldn't even make a sound.

But in the softest corner of her heart, facing the "home" she had sworn countless times to return to alive for a reunion, a home that had long since vanished into thin air, she uttered the same sentence with all her might:

"The Emperor has not forgotten us..."

From the day she was thrown onto a refugee boat and left the ruins of Kadian, she had been waiting in darkness for this day.

"The Empire's belated warmth... has finally arrived."

She had waited for far too long.

And now, it has finally arrived.

P.S.: Sorry guys, I'm a little late.

Chapter 158 Kneel down and hand over the key and the master control scroll

In the muddy trench, the golden light gradually faded.

More than 30,000 Kadian refugees embraced and wept amidst mud and blood, releasing their pent-up fear, despair, and grief that had been suppressed for four years and seven months in Lawson's vow that "the Empire has never forgotten Kadian."

"Go, distribute the Spark-3 rations to them," Lawson ordered.

The non-combatant assassins quickly dispersed, stuffing cans full of synthetic meat fat and salt into the arms of each Cadian.

For these refugees who have long been chewing on corpse starch, or even struggling to swallow starch, calories and salt are a more tangible comfort than any slogan.

"A13".

"Within four hours, find out exactly how many Kadian refugees are left on this planet, down to the single digit. Find out how many are serving as cannon fodder on the front lines, and how many have been sent to the Mechanicus's modification workshops. I need a flawless report."

"As ordered."

As the reassurance efforts proceeded smoothly, Lawson's consciousness entered the main channel of swarm intelligence.

With its vast computing power at the core of the Agrippina-1 theater, a real-time dynamic holographic map with millimeter-level precision is being constructed.

Combatants and non-combatants were mixed together and scattered along a 400-kilometer front. The visual, auditory, and even vibration feedback of the soil beneath their feet of each individual were transformed into data streams that flowed into this map.

Lawson stared at the map in his mind.

The suicide squad is rapidly reinforcing position number one using engineering equipment.

The anti-tank trenches were widened again, and the heavy plasma incinerators and quadruple heavy explosive shells were deployed according to a geometric intersection logic with no blind spots.

Whether the Iron Warriors plan to bombard the area with artillery or send in the Demon Engines for a strong assault, this defensive line can make the best firepower coordination in the shortest amount of time.

A moment later, a heavy transport plane broke through the dark clouds of Agrippina and landed on the helipad behind Position One.

It was a special plane sent by Belissa Kur, the current casting general of Agrippina.

The cabin door slowly opened, and a technical priest whose body had been modified into tracks glided out, inviting the Dark Side Master to meet him at the Forging Temple.

Baihu and Xiongwei all remained at their positions to guard the battlefield.

"Ergou, Sangou, come with me."

The transport plane took off, heading towards the towering, cloud-piercing Forging Temple in the heart of the planet, spewing endless black smoke.

The cabin was dimly lit, with only the red lights of various instruments flashing.

Lawson leaned back in the hard metal chair, closing his eyes and pretending to doze off.

Taking over Position One is only the first step. To gain a foothold in Agrippina's roaring war machine, and even to elevate Xerox to the position of Forging General, it is necessary to rightfully remove the current General, Kur.

How should the crime be determined?

Humanitarianism?

Lawson sneered inwardly.

childish.

In this hopeless cosmic logic, talking about humanitarianism is the least damaging political tactic.

The court will not blink an eye because casting a general cost 100,000 mortals.

The Ministry of the Interior handles death statistics in the hundreds of millions every day.

On the scales of the Empire, human life is currency. The creation of the world transforms refugees into machine servants, and under the dogma of the Mechanicus and the macro perspective of the Empire's high command, this is even seen as a reasonable measure to improve survival rates and productivity.

Attacking the Mechanicus with morality and human rights only results in the other side throwing out a bunch of production data and firepower indicators, leaving Lawson utterly refuted, and even turning around and accusing Lawson of interfering with the Mechanicus's internal autonomy.

Morality must never be touched.

The law must be used.

We must use the empire's core underlying logic: war potential and the right to allocate resources.

The transport plane came to a stop after a violent jolt.