The elevator continued its ascent, breaking into the Mid Hive.
The factories here were visibly far more advanced. Cleanrooms, psychic shielding chambers, precision instrument assembly lines... the players even spotted the chassis of several Leman Russ tanks mid-assembly, alongside the skeletal frames of light aircraft designs they had never seen before.
"Those are..."
Helovia smiled warmly. "Over the past twenty-three years, the Dawn Mechanicus Research Institute has made some significant breakthroughs by reverse-engineering the fragmented STC blueprints Paul left behind."
The elevator finally reached the Upper Hive.
The instant the doors parted, warm, natural sunlight flooded the cabin. The players stepped out of the elevator and collectively froze.
Holy fuck.
That was the exact phrase echoing in everyone's mind simultaneously.
The sight before them made them seriously question whether they had transmigrated straight into a futuristic metropolis from a sci-fi blockbuster. Broad avenues were paved with spotless synthetic materials. The streets were lined with all manner of shops—grocery stores, clothing boutiques, hardware shops, bookstores... Goods were proudly displayed in pristine storefront windows, while holographic billboards flickered overhead, advertising the latest products.
Pedestrians strolled down the sidewalks. They were dressed in clean, decent clothes. Their faces were flushed with health, their steps relaxed and unhurried. Children played in designated recreation zones, their clear laughter ringing out. The elderly sat on benches, basking in the sun while reading actual physical books.
Up in the air, small airships patrolled along fixed flight paths. They were all painted with the insignia of the Crimson Dawn: a rising sun, stars, stalks of wheat, and a cogwheel. The pilots wore sharp uniforms, their epaulettes bearing the emblem of the Dawn Constabulary. Mag-lev monorails glided quietly along overhead tracks, stopping at stations where passengers embarked and disembarked in an orderly fashion.
Most of the buildings' exteriors had been freshly repainted in clean whites and light grays, accented with striking crimson trim. Solar panels were installed on the roofs of many structures, while others featured lush rooftop gardens.
But the most breathtaking sight was the sky.
The entire dome of the Kent Upper Hive had been completely retrofitted into a colossal transparent structure. Forged from multi-layered composite materials, it guaranteed structural integrity while allowing natural sunlight to pour in. Adjustable sunshades and automated cleaning drones were installed on the exterior, ensuring the internal lighting remained perfectly balanced. Sunlight cascaded through the dome, casting soft, beautiful light and shadow across the entire Upper Hive.
"This is..." [Have You Been Loyal Today?] muttered. "Paul, Helovia... you've transformed an entire Hive City into..."
"...a highly humane, ecologically balanced, distinctly zoned modern metropolis," Schrödinger Bro finished. He looked around, his gaze sweeping over the pedestrians on the street, the goods in the shop windows, the patrolling constables, and finally settling on the bright, beaming smiles of the children playing nearby.
"Twenty-three years," Schrödinger Bro said softly. "You actually did it."
Paul didn't answer. He just stood there, his gaze sweeping over the magnificent city before him, the five stars slowly rotating within his dark golden eyes.
A Dawn Constabulary detachment of over five hundred heavily armed officers rapidly assembled, forming a protective escort on both flanks of the player group. These soldiers were geared with equipment that easily rivaled the elite Solar Auxilia of the Imperium. Their eyes were bright, their morale soaring, and every movement exuded a deep, genuine sense of pride.
The procession began its march down the main avenue, heading straight toward the heart of the city.
Citizens along the route stopped in their tracks to salute Paul and Helovia. It was an egalitarian gesture—a right fist lightly tapping the left breast.
Their faces radiated deep respect and... genuine hope.
"Archmagos Paul has returned!"
"Governor Helovia!"
"Are those... the legendary First Generation Dawn Warriors?"
The citizens murmured among themselves, their eyes filled with curiosity as they studied the bizarre procession. Over three thousand Astartes, hundreds of Grey Knights, Brothers of Silence, Tech-Priests, Assassins... A lineup of superhuman might on this scale would be enough to trigger mass panic on any other world.
[Execute Old Man the War Criminal] spoke up in the region chat: "I have a question... 'Archmagos Paul'? Where the hell did that title come from?"
[Paradox Player Not a War Criminal]: "Obviously, over the last twenty-three years, Paul has evolved into some sort of spiritual leader for them."
[Chief Architect of the Dyson Sphere]: "Did any of you notice the street layout? The functional zones are clearly defined, the traffic flow is incredibly logical, and the public amenities are comprehensive... This level of urban planning is at least on par with mid-21st-century developed nations on Earth."
[The Last God of Gamblers of the Imperium of Man]: "So, does this mean we can just... retire in glory? I'm suddenly realizing they've built up our territory way better than we ever could have imagined."
While they were chatting, they arrived at the Governor's Palace.
Once again, the players were floored.
The plaza where they had once held the grand trial had been completely incorporated into the palace grounds. A fifty-meter-tall, white-gold alloy wall completely encircled the area. Faint energy circuits pulsed across the wall's surface—the external manifestation of a Void Shield generator.
The only entrance through the perimeter was a pair of twenty-meter-tall alloy gates. A massive Crimson Dawn insignia was carved into the doors, framed by elaborate relief sculptures depicting the topography of Aurelian IV.
Flanking the gates and manning the patrol walkways atop the walls stood an even more elite tier of guards.
The Dawn Guard.
These warriors wore uniform, bright silver light power armor. The design seamlessly blended the rugged practicality of the Imperial Guard with the sleek aesthetics of futuristic tech. Emblazoned on the center of their chest plates was the striking crimson sun insignia, resting above the stars, wheat stalks, and cogwheel. They were armed with lightweight bolters, with power swords or chainswords strapped to their hips.
Every Dawn Guard stood as rigidly as a statue, the gaze behind their visors as sharp as a hawk's.
As Paul and Helovia led the procession closer, the massive doors automatically slid open.
An officer, wearing noticeably higher-grade power armor, jogged out from within. His pauldron bore three silver bars, indicating his rank—Platoon Commander of the 2nd Platoon, 1st Company of the Dawn Guard Battalion.
Stopping three meters in front of the group, the officer slammed his right fist against his left breastplate in a crisp, sharp salute. "Platoon Commander Kamin Kane, 2nd Platoon, 1st Company of the Dawn Guard Battalion! I greet Archmagos Paul! I greet Governor Helovia!" His voice carried through his helmet's external vox, ringing with the distinct, sonorous edge of a young, disciplined soldier.
His gaze swept over the procession of players behind Paul. As he took in the vividly painted Astartes armor and the gleaming silver of the Grey Knights, an irrepressible flash of pure veneration crossed his eyes.
Paul gave a slight nod of his golden, helmeted head.
Helovia spoke warmly, "Thank you for your service, Platoon Commander Kane."
"Just doing my duty, Madam Governor!" The officer saluted again, jogged back to his post, and spoke briefly into his comm-bead.
The inner gates slowly swung inward, revealing a sprawling courtyard beyond.
More Dawn Guards lined the inner gates and the interior walls. Their power armor was even more meticulously crafted, with many sporting sashes of honor. They stood as still as statues; only the occasional darting of their eyes beneath their visors proved they were flesh and blood.
Platoon Commander Kane stopped at the entrance and saluted one last time. "Archmagos Paul, Governor Helovia, and honored founding members of the Crimson Dawn. Please, enter."
Paul stepped through the threshold first.
The players filed in right behind him.
They entered a massive circular plaza over three hundred meters in diameter, paved entirely with black marble.
In the dead center stood a ten-meter-tall sculpture. It depicted a laborer hoisting a heavy cogwheel toward a rising sun. A single line was engraved into its pedestal:
Dignity through labor, Dawn guided by hope.
At the far end of the plaza stood a magnificent seven-story structure. Its architectural style seamlessly married the soaring Upper Hives of Gothic tradition with sleek, modern lines. The exterior was a stunning composite of white marble and gleaming alloy. Above the main entrance, a colossal Crimson Dawn insignia sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight.
This was the current Governor's Palace.