Just as the Emperor of Mankind, leading Terra's armies—perfectly unified through purges, threats, and brainwashing—
set out on the first voyage of the Great Crusade toward Mars, the holy world of those machine-fuckers.
On the remote planet Nuceria, thousands of light-years from Terra, massive demonstrations erupted simultaneously across the entire world, shaking the planet to its core.
People of every age, sex, and social standing rushed into the streets and shouted.
"What the hell is this supposed to mean?! You give us hope and then just leave us?!"
"How are we supposed to live if you leave?!"
"We oppose this to the death! We oppose this to the death!"
"Warriors! Peacekeepers! Hurry and stop those protesters... What? Where did everyone go?!"
"Commander! The warriors and peacekeepers have all thrown off their uniforms and joined the protesters!"
"Aaaaargh! Leave our lord with us!"
The tide of protest was so fierce that even the warriors and peacekeepers meant to control and mediate it were swept up in the mood, throwing off their uniforms and joining the demonstration.
The echoes of its days as a gladiator planet still lingered, so the protesters held flags and weapons in their hands.
I worried that bloodshed might break out at any moment, but fortunately, they only held those weapons as symbols of their discontent.
They merely swung them through the air, physically venting their grievances.
As a result, most of Nuceria's public squares had become protest grounds filled with murderous sword dances.
There was only one demand they all gathered and cried out for with one heart and one mind.
That we not leave them.
Of course, we were not leaving for good, so government officials from every department tried to explain.
"Please do not abandon Nuceria!"
"We're not abandoning it! We're only leaving for a little while, then we'll come back!"
"Please do not abandon Nuceria!"
"No, seriously, we're not abandoning it!"
"Then don't leave in the first place!"
Their voices were so loud that every feeble explanation was buried in an instant.
Amid this chaotic situation, even Nuceria's senior ministers, assembled to discuss the planet's affairs, cautiously tried to persuade me.
"Would it not be much better for you to remain on this planet rather than leave...?"
But my resolve was firm enough not to be shaken by any wave.
"Shut it."
"Yes, sir!"
Of course, if I actively deployed the Ark's formidable military power and advanced technological infrastructure in full force,
we could completely prevent even the infiltration of rat-like Eldar assassins before they left so much as a speck of dust behind.
But that was not what the Ark existed for.
The Ark's true purpose was to safeguard and preserve humanity's heritage intact, and extend a hand toward self-reliance to those who truly needed help.
Just as I personally liberated Nuceria, then minimized the Ark's technological and material support so that it could develop through its own native technologies,
you had to teach people how to catch fish with their own hands rather than simply hand them fish.
For Nuceria to truly develop as well, it had to endure the growing pains of overcoming foreign invasion by its own strength.
In the long ages to come, the storms of far crueler and more horrific galaxy-spanning wars would sweep past them countless times.
The Nucerians had to overcome a trial and growing pain of this degree through their own power.
But... the possibility of my adopted son Angron's life being threatened was a matter on an entirely different level.
During the previous attack, even I had never foreseen the fatal variable of an Eldar Harlequin assassin forcing her way through the security network by using a relic that controlled time.
In this grim Warhammer setting, carelessness meant irreversible death.
There was no telling what unforeseen accident might occur next, or when someone might come for Angron's life.
That was why, until Angron had grown enough to protect himself perfectly,
I had intended to leave Nuceria for a while and protect the child aboard the safety of the Ark.
But the Nucerians had jumped to their own conclusions, mistakenly believing that we were abandoning this planet forever, and erupted into such a violent uproar.
In the end, to swiftly quell this vast turmoil shaking the planet, I immediately issued an official statement.
At the center of the central square, packed in every direction with millions of Nucerians.
Every single pair of eyes was thick with dissatisfaction and anxiety.
I climbed the platform, gripped the microphone, and solemnly declared in a voice that rang out over the seething multitude.
That we would never forsake Nuceria and leave forever.
That we were merely moving to the Ark temporarily, to secure Angron's safety and until the child had fully grown into a lord.
And that, when the time came, he would surely return to this place as its true lord.
Once those words were spoken, swelling anticipation gradually filled the Nucerians' eyes.
They were looking forward to the day the young Angron would return as a perfect lord and rule Nuceria.
Even so, not every gaze had softened.
To completely soothe the hearts of the Nucerian people who remained anxious,
I added one extraordinary condition.
I declared that elite Nucerian warriors and some officials, selected through rigorous qualification tests across the planet, would be specially chosen as Angron's personal attendants.
They would be allowed to board the Ark with us, watch over the child's growth, and protect him.
With that single official announcement, the force of the protests that had burned fiercely enough to overturn the entire planet subsided in an instant, as if it had all been a lie.
Yet the fervor did not cool. Instead, it began to blaze madly in an entirely different direction.
It became a fierce selection contest among Nucerian warriors, all competing for a place as one of Angron's attendants.
"Angron is the man who will become my father!"
"Bitch, you already have a father! Aren't you ashamed when you consider your age, you old hag?!"
"Shut up!"
"I'll smash that hideous head of yours open with this mace!"
The heat and intensity of the attendant selection trials were enough to recall the bloody slave gladiator arenas of the past.
Still, they were not savage enough to take one another's lives, so I watched quietly.
So long as their brains remained alive, any injury could be cleanly healed anyway.
I watched their healthy competition with an exceedingly positive gaze.
After all, the greatest driving force for humanity and civilization to evolve and grow stronger was noble competition—the desire to prove oneself.
While the Nucerians' magnificent struggle to become Angron's attendants unfolded amid fierce competition,
Angron himself, standing at the center of all this commotion and turmoil, was enjoying a more peaceful time than ever.
Angron sat nestled in Veronica's warm embrace, listening to her read an old storybook in a gentle voice.
"...And so, the tortoise who kept walking steadily was finally able to defeat the arrogant hare."
When the story ended, Angron looked up at Veronica with curious eyes and asked her a question.
"Mother, why did the hare sleep right before the finish line? I simply cannot understand it."
At Angron's innocent question, Veronica smiled softly and gently stroked his smooth head.
"It was because of the pride that settled in the hare's heart, Angron."
"Pride?"
"Yes. Pride is a terrible poison that comes when you look down upon those who are beneath you. Once someone is swayed by that emotion and becomes overconfident, even a being as superior and powerful as the hare will ultimately fail in vain."
"Pride..."
At Veronica's gentle lesson, Angron quietly nodded and looked down at his small, bare hands.
Those seemingly small hands could effortlessly crumple a bedroom door made of special alloy.
Veronica quietly watched the thoughtful Angron, smiling fondly.
Then she lightly pinched his cheeks, which still retained their baby fat.
"Angron, our beloved son."
"Yes, Mother."
"You must have already realized that you are wholly unlike ordinary children, haven't you?"
"...Yes, Mother."
"Precisely because you are like that, you must always guard against falling into pride."
"I'll remember that."
As befitted the pinnacle of superhuman genetics known as a Primarch, Angron was displaying a miraculous rate of growth.
Not even a year had passed since he had fallen to Nuceria as a newborn, yet the child already possessed the sturdy, broad build of an eight-year-old boy.
He could easily speak almost every language, while displaying astonishing intelligence, intuitive comprehension, and a sponge-like capacity for learning.
Faced with such overwhelming growth, even young Angron himself could not help but realize that he was a superior and special being, existing on a different level from ordinary humans.
At last, Angron voiced to his mother the doubts and questions he had kept buried deep within his heart until now.
"Mother... What kind of being am I? What am I?"
At her young son's grave and weighty question, Veronica stopped stroking his head and sank into deep thought for a moment.
Even as an advanced superintelligence, virtually a singularity that possessed a human soul, she could not rashly answer this question.
A single word she gave him might completely twist this child's values and immense destiny.
That was why she withheld her words with profound caution.
Then Veronica thought of the one person who could give the most perfect and truthful answer to this weighty question.
Noah, Angron's adoptive father and the creator who had personally designed his genes.
Veronica decided to pass this weighty question on to Noah.
"My son, it would be much better for you to ask your father directly for the answer to that question."
"Father... you mean?"
"Yes. He understands and loves you more deeply than anyone else in this world."
When the name of Noah, his adoptive father, was mentioned, a complicated, dark shadow fell over Angron's eyes.
"I suppose so. Father understands me far too well."
"My son, do you still find him a little overwhelming?"
"...Yes. But it isn't as if I do not know the depth and warmth of his heart. It's just... sometimes it is difficult to face him."
"If that is truly the case, shall I ask Noah for you?"
At Veronica's kind offer, Angron pressed his lips together for a moment, then shook his head with resolute eyes.
"No. I don't want to become lazy like the hare in the story I just heard. No matter how difficult or frightening it may be to face him, I will ask Father myself."
"Yes. How admirable you are."
Veronica looked at Angron, whose body and heart were rapidly growing day by day, and a pleased smile filled her eyes.
Comments (0)
Please log in to leave a comment. Login or Register