Alex enacted a series of policies, pushing reforms into deeper waters, planning for the Imperium to form a truly unified entity.
At least, a unified front was needed before the final battle concluded.
Because many things required a strong Terra to accomplish.
Such measures also met with opposition from many ancient families, as the reform bills cut into their interests, redistributing them to new power players who had risen through military achievements.
"This is a betrayal of the Emperor!"
Some family representatives angrily accused, jointly petitioning Guilliman, the Regent, to stop such an absurd situation.
Guilliman outwardly agreed with these people, denouncing Alex's reform policies, yet he took no actual action, allowing Terra to push forward with the reforms.
Under their coordinated act, the numerous opposing ancient families could only watch as the new policies were implemented.
Some attempted to resist but were suppressed in a joint operation by players and the Inquisition.
With the promotion of the new policies, the galaxy experienced unprecedented changes.
The Webway development project, which had been stagnant for tens of millions of years, was restarted by humanity.
A glorious era was slowly dawning.
As long as humanity could win the final battle, a powerful civilization, surpassing even the Old Ones, would emerge in the galaxy.
Due to the fall of the Aeldari Empire, the Webway had suffered severe damage, with many areas broken and corrupted.
To deal with these thoroughly contaminated Webway sections, the Imperium adopted a demolition approach, destroying them and opening up new Webway routes as replacements.
The Chaos Gods naturally could not remain indifferent to this.
Once humanity completely replaced the Warp with the Webway, their influence over humanity would drastically decrease.
Although losing human faith would not cause them to perish, their authority and power would significantly diminish.
For this reason, the Gods demanded that Magnus and Lorgar, who had been traumatized, and other Daemon Primarchs, stop the Imperium's actions.
To complete the Gods' task, Lorgar sought out Perturabo, hoping he would intervene and assist them against the Imperium of Man.
Perturabo had become a recluse after the Horus Heresy.
He had built a vast Daemon industrial empire in the Eye of Terror.
Countless machines fused with Daemons and enslaved mortals toiled in roaring factories, producing various destructive dark technology equipment.
When Lorgar arrived, Perturabo, sitting on his Iron Throne, showed him no courtesy, not even bothering to rise to greet him.
"My brother, it has been a long time since we last met."
Lorgar was born thick-skinned.
Even though Perturabo made no secret of his disgust and contempt, he didn't take it to heart.
"There is no need to meet." Perturabo's tone was calm, wanting to end the conversation and send Lorgar away as soon as they met.
As a Primarch who adhered to technology and reason, Perturabo truly had no good feelings for a brother like Lorgar, who knelt before so-called gods.
"We are brothers after all," Lorgar said. "I came here to tell you something, too."
"What is it? Have you reached Terra? Or captured that fool Guilliman alive?" Perturabo's tone was sarcastic.
Lorgar gave a wry smile. "If you don't help, soon you will see the Imperium's two-headed eagle banner in the Eye of Terror."
"This is by no means a threat, merely an explanation of what might happen in the future."
"That Imperial Saint is a being from a higher dimension, and he is assisting our father in winning this war."
"Now, loyal Primarchs are constantly returning, the Imperium's military strength is soaring, Abaddon has suffered consecutive defeats, and the Chaos side has sustained heavy casualties."
"That Imperial Saint has also successively persuaded the Star Gods, Space Dwarves, Spirit Race, and other xenos powers to become vassals of the Imperium of Man.
Now, in the galaxy, there is no force that can stand as an opponent to the Imperium."
"The current Imperium of Man is more terrifying and has more potential than during the Great Crusade."
"That Imperial Saint and those brothers who remain loyal to our deceitful father are ready to go to war with the Gods."
"Soon, they will act."
Lorgar's words made Perturabo, who was seated on the Iron Throne, frown slightly.
While he was happy for Lorgar and others to suffer losses, the rise of the Imperium of Man greatly displeased him.
His foolish father should remain on the Golden Throne, suffering torment and pain.
He was clearly so much more excellent than that imbecile Dorn, yet He couldn't see it, even entrusting the construction of the Terra Imperial Palace to that brainless Dorn.
"Also, there is news that Dorn is very likely to return."
Lorgar's words made Perturabo's brow furrow even tighter. "What difference will his return make?"
"Dorn's return truly won't make much difference! It's just that talk of the Imperium's bedrock supporting the Imperium of Man will become rampant." Lorgar, as always, knew how to manipulate people's hearts.
Even among fellow Primarchs, he was adept at grasping their weaknesses and their sensitive spots.
Perturabo's sensitive spot was undoubtedly Dorn.
One reason Perturabo chose to join Chaos during the Horus Heresy was the opportunity to defeat Dorn.
"Do you know how those high-dimensional beings describe you and Dorn?" Lorgar added fuel to the fire.
Perturabo looked at Lorgar, gesturing for him to continue.
"The self-proclaimed immortal steel has already corroded, but the Imperium's bedrock still bears its weight." Lorgar said, enunciating each word.
As expected, Perturabo's expression instantly turned extremely grim.
This sentence undoubtedly negated him and his descendants.
What angered Perturabo even more was that those guys' evaluation of Dorn was so high.
"These high-dimensional outsiders are simply brainless, an unforgivable bunch of idiots."
"Let those fools and their Imperium perish together."
Perturabo stood up, his gaze cold and full of oppressive power.
"This is what we desire," Lorgar said.
"Join us; humanity has forgotten the fear we once brought them."
"We must let them know who the true masters of this galaxy are."
"Let the galaxy burn again," Perturabo's voice was low.
His gaze was filled with killing intent and ambition.
This time, he would make the entire Imperium aware of the Iron Warriors' power and terror.
Whether it was the returning Dorn or that Imperial Saint, all would be defeated by him.
After reaching an agreement, Perturabo ordered his Daemon industrial worlds to enter full production mode.
At the same time, he also built enhanced Daemon wombs to produce more powerful warriors.
With Perturabo's support, the heavily damaged Chaos forces recovered at an incredible speed, even becoming stronger.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the galaxy, Khorne's diligent servant, Angron, was also assembling his Legion.
Before that, he had to resolve some minor issues, such as a certain fool who called himself Regent and stole his battleship.
After the Horus Heresy, Angron never returned to his flagship, the *Conqueror*.
Because of this, this *Gloriana*-class battleship circulated among various World Eaters warbands, who fought over it, asserting their claims through force.
After the Great Rift appeared, Khârn's warband, the Betrayers, obtained this battleship.
The Betrayers Battle Group was currently the strongest World Eaters warband, and its leader, Khârn, during the absence of powerful World Eaters like Angron and Khârn, proclaimed himself the Regent of the entire World Eaters Legion, demanding all World Eaters obey his commands.
Khârn had been a sergeant in the World Eaters' Third Assault Company, a veteran of the Long War.
Of course, during the Great Crusade era, Khârn was just an unknown.
During the Horus Heresy, a character like him didn't even deserve a name.
After the Horus Heresy ended, Khârn fled Terra with the Third Company.
In the days that followed, he grew rapidly, eventually becoming a powerful Chaos Warlord.
Within the intricate corridors of the *Conqueror*, Khârn led his trusted lieutenants deep into the ship's interior.
Although he had obtained the ship, its machine spirit had always rejected him, even causing numerous accidental incidents in an attempt to kill him.
This behavior deeply enraged the Chaos Warlord.
He wanted to find that damned machine spirit, then shove a bolter into her mouth and blow her head off.
The *Conqueror* was his, and any act of defiance against him deserved death.
After some twists and turns, with the help of a sorcerer, he pinpointed the source.
Now, he was going to go there and resolve the matter once and for all.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Heavily armored Servitors appeared at the end of the corridor.
They opened fire on Khârn and his retinue with multi-barreled bolters embedded in their arms.
The bolter rounds, capable of penetrating rockcrete, merely kicked up dust on Khârn's modified Terminator armor.
Following the Chaos Warlord, Chaos Warriors in Terminator armor raised their spike-studded bolters and pulled the triggers.
Flames flashed from the muzzles, and a dense volley of bolter rounds poured out, instantly tearing the fully armed Servitors to shreds.
Having dealt with the enemies, Khârn continued forward.
However, the corridor ahead split into two paths.
Khârn had possessed the *Conqueror* for over fifty years.
During these years, he had constantly explored the ship, mapping its structure.
Over time, he became intimately familiar with the battleship's internal structure and its changes.
But he had never been to this area before.
It seemed to have appeared suddenly.
"Keep going."
Khârn ordered his subordinates to continue advancing.
They encountered more Servitors along the way.
Their firepower was fierce, but they were ultimately no match for the Chaos Warriors.
After multiple battles, Khârn and his group arrived before a massive metal door.
"Blow it open."
Khârn gave the order.
Several Chaos Warriors attached melta-bombs to the door and detonated them.
After a powerful explosion and flash, the door was destroyed, melting into hot, steaming slag.
Khârn stepped inside and found that beyond the door was the *Conqueror's* true command bridge.
After the Horus Heresy, the *Conqueror* had completely become a Chaos lair.
Many areas had vanished, and many new ones had emerged.
Khârn had thought the command bridge had permanently disappeared.
Who would have thought it would reappear one day?
He walked to the command throne and saw a skeleton in a white uniform sitting there.
A red handprint made of blood was clearly imprinted on the uniform.
"Lotara Sarrin."
Khârn had served on the *Conqueror*.
He recognized the skeleton as belonging to the Commander of the *Gloriana*-class battleship, the *Conqueror*.
Her brilliant tactical mind and excellent strategic judgment earned her recognition from Angron and Khârn, making her the highest-ranking mortal in the World Eaters Legion.
The bloody handprint on her chest was Angron's mark of approval.
"My enemy is just this thing?"
Khârn was greatly disappointed.
He had expected to encounter an equally matched fool who wanted to challenge him, in which case he could have enjoyed a satisfying battle.
Who would have thought that the one causing trouble all along was a skeleton?
A hoarse voice emanated, and the skeleton turned its head, looking at Khârn.
"My Lord."
"Have you surrendered so quickly?" Khârn sneered. "Even if you call me Lord, I won't spare you."
"I have been waiting for your return." Lotara Sarrin continued.
At this point, Khârn felt something was amiss.
Lotara Sarrin's words didn't seem to be directed at him.
He quickly turned his head, looking into the darkness behind him.
The others also reacted swiftly, raising their guns and looking around for enemies.
Just then, an eerie shriek echoed.
A group of Daemons appeared in the ship's interior.
They had red skin, ferocious faces, and hunched bodies topped with dog-like heads and multiple cruel black horns.
Each Daemon held a two-meter serrated blade, sharp enough to make metal bleed.
Bang! Bang!
Khârn and his group decisively pulled their triggers, shooting the Daemons.
However, the Daemons were not the biggest problem Khârn and his group encountered.
Heavy footsteps sounded, and a behemoth emerged from the darkness.
It was Angron, returned from his resurrection.
The Daemon Primarch's body blazed with fire, and rolling heat waves washed over them, distorting the air.
After being defeated by Leman Russ, Angron spent hundreds of years in the Blood God's gladiatorial arena.
Only then did he crawl out of the arena, return to the Brass Citadel, and regain Khorne's blessing.
Khorne was a very just god.
No matter who it was, as long as they could achieve 888 victories in the brutal arena, they would receive a blessing.
Although Angron often failed, each time he failed, he would eventually win, rising again and again.
Angron roared, his eyes filled with disgust and rage as he looked at Khârn.
He hated these incompetent descendants.
"No!!"
Khârn retreated continuously, simultaneously raising his gun to try and fire at Angron.
The others did the same.
But they underestimated the power of an ascended Primarch.
Angron began a rampage, slaughtering Khârn's men in mere moments.
Khârn himself was not spared, his head severed by Angron's axe.
Angron returned to his flagship, roaring continuously.
With his roars, cracks appeared in the void.
The World Eaters scattered across the galaxy were summoned by their Primarch father.
Angron desperately craved a war, a brutal slaughter.
Soon, he found a target.
A place very close to him, emitting a light that filled him with rage.