Malkaan's mouth twitched slightly.
He had felt the psychic pulse of human civilization on countless planets. Mining worlds bled to their absolute limits, border planets battered by endless war, rich and sprawling core worlds...
But he had never felt such a... unified undercurrent of emotion on any world outside of Ultramar. It was a deep, radiant contentment with life, a profound hope for the future. That was something you only found on Macragge.
He turned his head and looked at Marius Gage standing beside him. The two Ultramarines commanders exchanged a glance, both seeing the exact same thing in the other's eyes...
Shock.
And an indescribable sense of... approval.
On the other side of the elevator car, the Blood Angels officers were equally drowning in shock.
Dakar Belus... the leader of the Blood Angels' Wardens... was staring silently through the armaglass at the sprawling landscape below. A complex light flickered in his aged eyes.
Meros... their Chief Librarian... remained completely silent.
But his psychic senses were even sharper than Promus'. He could feel the countless pairs of eyes down in those cities, looking up at the sky. Looking up at the descending orbital elevator. Looking up at them, their... guests falling from the heavens.
But in those upward gazes, there was no fear, no sycophancy, no pathetic groveling that usually accompanied the arrival of Imperial officials.
There was only curiosity.
Anticipation.
And a kind of... totally calm, equal footing.
The corner of Meros' mouth ticked up into a smile.
This... is getting incredibly interesting.
As for the Legion officers who were visiting Aurelian for the first time, their reactions were a lot less subtle.
They stared at each other, totally bewildered. Someone couldn't help but mutter out loud:
"Was the data from the sector officials... completely wrong?"
"This is a fucking mining planet?"
"Are you kidding me?"
Someone else immediately chimed in:
"Right?"
"What mining world looks like this?"
"The green space here is better than our Agri-worlds!"
Up at the front of the car, Guilliman and Sanguinius were still posted up by the observation window.
The two Primarchs stood shoulder-to-shoulder in complete silence. After a long while, Guilliman finally spoke. His voice was low, so quiet that only Sanguinius could catch it:
"If I wasn't absolutely certain about the coordinates..."
"I'd honestly think we landed on the wrong planet."
Sanguinius gave a small nod.
A storm of incredibly complex emotions was churning in his pale gold eyes. Shock, confusion, appreciation. And a lingering trace of... disappointment.
Because he had a sinking feeling that the golden figure named Titus really wasn't here. He wasn't going to find the answers he was looking for today.
But for some reason, the anger and confusion knotting up his chest were slowly melting away.
Maybe it was the sheer transformation of this world.
Maybe it was the genuine smiles on the faces of the people walking the streets below.
Or maybe it was because... he suddenly remembered what that mortal governor, Cage Lawrence, had told him on that New Year's Eve, twenty-three years ago:
"Our Crimson Dawn has never cared about power or wealth."
"All we want is to ensure that anyone willing to put in an honest day's work gets to live with dignity."
Back then, the Primarch had just offered a polite smile in response.
Now, looking out the window at this vast emerald landscape, watching kids run around in the sunlight, seeing the genuine smiles on the people's faces... he suddenly felt that those words might have actually been true.
He kept his eyes glued to the glass, taking in the miracle the Crimson Dawn had built from scratch over the last two decades.
--
Meanwhile, in the back of the car, the [Regional Channel (Crimson Dawn)] was blowing up with a flood of messages.
[Blood Angels' Second Emperor]: "Looks like they're pretty shook!"
[Schrödinger's Loyalist]: "For real, did you guys see Azkaellon's face? His jaw is practically on the floor."
[Paradox Player Not a War Criminal]: "Marius Gage always has that stoic resting bitch face, but I literally just saw his pupils hit earthquake mode."
[Studying Med is Worse Than Falling to Chaos]: "And Amit straight up dropped an f-bomb, lmfao!"
[Teaching Nurgle How to Read in the Warp]: "Honestly though, the real mind-blowing stuff is yet to come."
[The Most Incorruptible Logistics King of the Imperium]: "Yep. Just wait till they see what life is actually like down in the surface cities. That's gonna be the real shocker."
[Slaanesh Just Wants to Slack Off Today]: "I've got my popcorn and drinks ready. Waiting to screenshot their reaction faces."
[Blood Angels' Second Emperor]: "Keep it lowkey, guys. Don't spam the chat too hard. It's gonna be a disaster if those two Primarchs pick up on our psychic ripples."
[Schrödinger's Loyalist]: "Chill. Promus and Meros are strong, but they aren't 'intercepting system chat logs' strong."
[Paradox Player Not a War Criminal]: "Plus, even if they did intercept it, they wouldn't be able to read a damn word. We're typing in English, not Low Gothic. The only person who might understand this ancient Terran language is the Big E himself, since he's been kicking around since M2."
A massive wall of 'Based' and 'W's spammed down the chat log.
--
At the front of the elevator car, Guilliman pulled his gaze away from the glass.
He turned his head, glancing at Sanguinius beside him.
The Ninth Primarch was still staring out the window, a flash of undeniable... disappointment haunting his pale amber-gold eyes.
Guilliman let out a quiet sigh. Dropping his voice to a whisper only Sanguinius could catch, he murmured:
"Don't doubt your instincts."
"The Crimson Dawn is definitely connected to this Titus."
"I've already picked up on a few of their... peculiarities."
Sanguinius turned to look at him.
Guilliman continued, "Don't overthink it right now."
"Let's just focus on auditing the changes to this planet."
He paused, a deep, calculated glint flashing through his ice-blue eyes:
"Later tonight, when we sit down with Cage Lawrence, I'll help you pull the truth out of him."
Sanguinius looked at his brother, seeing the absolute certainty in his eyes, and offered a slight nod.
He didn't say a word. But he knew Guilliman never spoke without a solid foundation. If he said it, he had a plan.
The two Primarchs turned back toward the window.
Looking out at the rapidly approaching... Dawn City.
The premier surface metropolis of Aurelian IV.
The administrative heart of the Crimson Dawn.
The city was laid out like an absolute work of art.
Massive boulevards, meticulously organized architecture, and dense, sprawling greenbelts.
Right in the center of the metropolis stood a colossal, five-hundred-meter-tall spire.
The Dawn Council Building. The absolute seat of administrative power on Aurelian.
At the very top of the spire, a massive flag snapped wildly in the wind.
The emblem bore a rising sun breaking the horizon, wreathed in stalks of wheat, cogwheels, and stars.
Surrounding that central spire was an endless grid of residential blocks, commercial districts, cultural hubs, education centers, and medical sectors...
Every single zone was organized flawlessly; every building was designed to be both aesthetically stunning and hyper-functional.
Past the city limits laid rolling farmlands and massive ecological preserves. Further out were sweeping mountain ranges and winding river networks.
The entire planet looked like a carefully carved emerald, floating quietly in the void.
The orbital elevator continued its descent.
The details outside the glass grew sharper by the second.
Guilliman and Sanguinius remained anchored in front of the observation window, staring for a long time at the miracle the Crimson Dawn had pulled off.
And right behind them, the high echelons of their Legions were still totally lost in shock.
Not a single person spoke.
Because in that moment, words wouldn't have done it justice anyway.