Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

Dreamweaver, bridge.

Eden looked out into the void beyond the dome. The ship's guns were still blazing, and the Savior Fleet was continuing its purge of the Tyranid bio-ships.

It wasn't just a war in space—on Baal and Baal Secundus, counterattacks against the Tyranids had also begun.

Without their synaptic control, the Tyranid swarm had no ability to resist. Waves upon waves of Tyranids were slaughtered with ease.

From this moment, the war between Baal and the Tyranids could be considered over.

What remained was simply the cleanup—exterminating the remnants of the swarm across the system, no longer posing any threat.

"All that biomass… such good stuff. Can't waste it…" Eden muttered, watching the chunks of Tyranid flesh drifting in the void with a hint of heartache.

The sheer scale of the Tyranid bio-ships—so massive and numerous—meant their remains had already formed asteroid-like clusters in space.

The Savior had always advocated for frugality: save when you can, spend when you must, and use everything to the fullest—pluck every feather from the goose, no matter how small.

Even when Chaos Daemons passed through their domain, they'd be caught and fleeced dry, sobbing as they left.

Some especially unlucky Daemons had been imprisoned in the Daemon Research Institute's underground labs for decades. They had been dissected, experimented on, and used to test countless weapons and drugs. It was so gruesome that even the researchers drooled at the thought.

Yet the Daemon Research Institute refused to release these Daemons, insisting on keeping them for further study—claiming they were "used to them" and that "new Daemons wouldn't work as well."

In reality, they just wanted to save on research costs.

Now, those gleaming protein reserves floated before them.

To waste such a bounty—Eden knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at night.

After all, the sheer quantity of biomass was overwhelming!

With the Leviathan Hive Fleet defeated, the Baal system had been left littered with uncountable Tyranid carcasses—enough to form an entire planet's mass.

The system's overall mass had increased by nearly a third.

This protein haul was enough to feed tens of star systems—maybe more—purely on meat alone.

And if they mixed in some grains and starches, they could feed even more.

It was an unprecedented meat harvest.

Eden contacted the logistics chief and ordered a detailed plan for recovering the biomass.

His plan was to process the Tyranid meat into canned rations for human consumption.

Of course, the Savior's domain already had a robust livestock industry, with over a dozen agri-worlds raising massive beasts like the Kroks and Skeglow Beasts, as well as several ocean worlds providing seafood.

Meat was never scarce within the Savior's realm.

These somewhat questionable Tyranid meat cans would mostly serve as novelty items for citizens to try.

The real goal was to dump them at low prices to the struggling Imperial Guard across the Imperium—ensuring more Imperial soldiers could get a proper meal. At least it was better than the contaminated rations or the infamous Grox-beef cans.

They could also be distributed as relief supplies to famine-stricken worlds, saving countless human lives.

After settling the biomass issue…

Eden turned his attention back to another matter, waiting for a response.

As time passed, the Savior's brow furrowed. The glow of the gunfire cast shadows across his grim face.

Finally, he couldn't hold back and asked, "Still no response from them?"

The Battle of Baal was drawing to a close.

But that didn't mean the war was over. There were still many Leviathan splinter fleets wreaking havoc across Imperial space.

Those splinter fleets—somehow receiving new orders—continued their aggressive advances, seemingly intent on harvesting a final load of biomass before retreating.

The death of the Leviathan Hive Mind did not mean the Tyranids were completely wiped out. These splinter fleets, cut off from control, could very well give rise to new Hive Minds.

The swarm would continue to propagate.

But that was a problem for later.

Even if the swarm recovered, it wouldn't pose an immediate threat to the Savior's domain. And by then, the Savior would have his own swarm under control.

The real problem was the Imperial Exterminatus order.

The High Lords of Terra and the upper echelons of the Imperium were terrified of the Leviathan threat. They feared the Tyranids might reach the Sol System and cause irreparable damage.

To stop them, they had drafted a brutal plan.

They would create a vast cordon along the Tyranids' projected path—sterilizing everything within, obliterating all life and matter.

This would force the Tyranids to divert elsewhere, away from the Sol System.

It was a ruthless "better you than me" strategy.

To protect the Sol System, the High Lords didn't care how many other systems were sacrificed. The death toll would be catastrophic.

Those neighboring systems were simply unlucky.

Because of their proximity to the Sol System and Holy Terra, they were already required to give up their development and supply resources.

Now, in the face of disaster, they were expected to serve as a living shield for the Imperium's core.

Eden did the math.

If the Exterminatus plan was fully implemented, it would annihilate regions equivalent to dozens of Imperial sectors—thousands of worlds reduced to ashes.

The death toll from the Exterminatus would likely surpass the number of Imperial worlds devoured by the Leviathan in recent years.

After all, a Tyranid invasion took time—they had to infiltrate worlds, cultivate Genestealer cults, activate psychic beacons, and only then, after years or even decades, would the swarm arrive for their feast. And even then, they often faced resistance.

But an Exterminatus?

The Imperium could destroy a planet in a single day.

He could already imagine the procedure.

First, an Imperial detachment would arrive to squeeze out the final tithes—taxing every last scrap.

Then, the local Imperial Navy fleet would move into low orbit. Under the terrified gazes of the planet's population, they would launch vortex torpedoes, one after another.

The very forces sworn to protect these worlds would become their executioners—killing the very citizens whose taxes had supported them.

Perhaps some of those Imperial soldiers wouldn't want to do it.

But for the sake of their faith, for the Imperium, for the Emperor's Will, they had no choice but to become butchers of their own worlds.

Refusal was not an option.

Those who disobeyed would be branded heretics and swiftly executed in disgrace.

Resistance was impossible.

The Imperium's response to insubordination was swift and brutal—always delivering excessive punishment.

And this time, the Imperium had dispatched the mightiest of enforcers to oversee the execution of the orders: the Custodian Guard from the Imperial Palace of Holy Terra.

The Custodian Guard are the Emperor's personal bodyguards.

They are the most powerful genetically engineered warriors, surpassed only by the Primarchs themselves. They wield golden weapons and wear armor crafted under the Emperor's direct supervision, granted access to the finest resources of the Imperium.

These ultimate warriors, the pinnacle of Imperial might, serve only the Emperor and carry out His Will.

Their presence is overwhelming—unstoppable.

Not even the Imperial Navy, or even the mighty Adeptus Astartes Chapters, could defy the Custodian Guard.

Any resistance would only end in death.

The Custodian Guard are that powerful.

If they ever decided to turn against any force within the Imperium, no one could stand against them.

Not even the Savior's domain.

A single targeted decapitation strike would be enough to wipe out the entire leadership.

This meant that, under the Custodian Guard's supervision, the Exterminatus order would inevitably be carried out. Those human worlds were doomed.

There was almost no way to stop it.

Regardless of the Imperium's reasoning, this decision was pure hell—and now that the Leviathan threat was gone, carrying out the Exterminatus would only result in pointless slaughter!

Perhaps the only one who could stop the Custodian Guard now…

Was the Savior himself.

Eden let out a long sigh.

"I just hope it's not too late…"

Dreamweaver's radar had detected that, in a nearby system, a planet had already been annihilated under the bombardment of Vortex Torpedoes.

If they didn't intervene soon, the Exterminatus order would cause even more pain and despair.

Due to the technological gap between the Custodian Guard's communications equipment and the Savior's domain, plus the interference from the Tyranid Shadow in the Warp, contacting the Custodian Guard remotely wasn't easy.

Fortunately, thanks to the tireless efforts of the Communications Sage, they finally managed to establish a connection with one of the nearby Custodian Guard and sent a message.

Eden, invoking his title as the Hope Primarch, informed the Custodian Guard that the Leviathan Hive Mind had been slain, the entire Hive Fleet was on the brink of annihilation, and the Tyranid threat had been neutralized. Therefore, the Imperium no longer needed to execute the Exterminatus order.

He didn't give an order—he requested.

Technically, no one but the Emperor Himself could command the Custodian Guard—not even a Primarch.

After all, the Custodian Guard were the Emperor's personal bodyguards, the strongest force within the Imperium, directly tied to the safety of the Emperor's person.

If anyone else could issue them orders, it would be no different from claiming the Golden Throne for themselves.

Might as well just sit on the Golden Throne while you're at it.

Moreover, in the absence of the Emperor or a Primarch-level authority, the Shield-Captain of the Custodian Guard—known as the Captain-General—wielded near-Emperor-level authority, executing the Emperor's will.

His power surpassed even that of the High Lords of Terra.

And the Custodian Guard were also a critical player in the political games of Terra.

Their agents were everywhere, constantly monitoring the Imperium's core departments and noble houses, ensuring none dared defy the Emperor's will.

With power, strength, and intelligence all in one, they were practically invincible within the Imperium.

Unless you were completely insane, no one wanted to mess with them—not even a Primarch.

Frankly, if the Captain-General wanted to, before Roboute Guilliman's return, he could have stepped forward and ruled the Imperium as the Regent.

But he never did.

Instead, bound by ancient edicts of limitation, the Custodian Guard remained secluded within the Imperial Palace, guarding the Emperor's withered body.

These shut-ins spent their days either weeping in remorse or reflecting on their failures, blaming themselves for the Emperor's condition.

Even as the Imperium burned and suffered, this most powerful of Imperial forces never took a single step outside.

It was only recently—whether prompted by a dream from the Emperor or a realization that the Imperium was on the brink of collapse—that the Captain-General finally lifted the edict and allowed the Custodian Guard to act.

No one knew how the High Lords of Terra had persuaded the Captain-General to send the Custodian Guard to enforce the Exterminatus order.

And so, this awkward situation arose.

While Eden anxiously awaited a reply, his communications aide's expression turned strange.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and saluted, reporting the situation:

"S-Savior, my lord… the Custodian Guard has replied… she… rejected your request."

Eden turned to the aide.

"Play the message. Let's hear what she said."

The aide played the Custodian Guard's audio message.

A firm, unwavering female voice rang out—unyielding, brooking no debate:

"Hope Primarch, sir, I have relayed the information to my superiors. Until new orders are issued, the Exterminatus order will continue. This is the Emperor's Will. It must not be defied."

The room's atmosphere grew heavy.

The Custodian Guard had not honored the Savior's request and had chosen to proceed with the Exterminatus.

Eden took a deep breath.

"Troublesome…"

This response matched his expectations of these golden kernel-heads: absolutely loyal to the Emperor, and utterly inflexible.

The myth of the Custodian Guard: paragons of Imperial might, noble guardians, and inspiring symbols.

The reality of the Custodian Guard: near-zero (or negative) emotional intelligence, filled with arrogant megalomaniacs and hyper-skeptical contrarians.

Their only real solution to any problem was to escalate it into bloodshed—and then kill everyone in the Emperor's name.

This particular Custodian, at least, had the decency to forward the message to Terra.

But given the Imperium's communication delays and the High Lords' infamous inefficiency…

By the time they finished their meetings and the Custodian Guard received new orders from the Captain-General, the Exterminatus would already be complete.

Worse still…

This Custodian had directly ignored the Hope Primarch's authority. Meaning Eden's Primarch title carried little weight in this situation.

If he tried to intervene further, it would likely spark open conflict.

Which, in fairness, was understandable.

Even Roboute Guilliman, the renowned Ultramarine Primarch, had to humbly abide by the Custodian Guard's rules when he first returned to the Imperium. He had to curry favor with them painstakingly.

Only after becoming the Lord Commander of the Imperium, the Regent, and seizing ultimate power did he gain the authority to command the Custodian Guard.

And even then, he could only issue orders in the name of the Imperium and the Emperor. The Custodian Guard could refuse him at any time.

That said, unless there was a compelling reason, the Custodian Guard wouldn't typically reject the Regent's orders.

In short, of the two Primarchs who had returned to the Imperium, only Guilliman's word held sway.

Eden was beginning to grasp the reality of his position within the Imperium.

As a "Hope Primarch" who had seemingly appeared out of thin air, he had not been acknowledged by the Custodian Guard—his authority wasn't recognized.

This was a significant obstacle to his future activities within the Imperium. At the very least, it left a blemish on his legitimacy.

Moreover, if he couldn't leverage the Custodian Guard's immense power, it would be a massive loss.

He had been eyeing those golden boys for a while—hoping to scavenge some of their equipment, technology, or resources to bolster the Thunder Guard.

Achieving that would be extremely difficult, but not entirely impossible.

Eden's mind raced as he processed all of this.

Then, at the end of the audio message, another issue arose.

Eden sucked in a sharp breath.

"That Custodian's voice… it sounded female. Are there female Custodian Guard? I don't recall hearing about that before…"

At least, before he ended up in this Warhammer mess, he had never encountered any such information.

What kind of stunt was GW pulling in the higher dimensions?

If they suddenly introduced a rainbow Custodian Guard or a Primarch, things were going to get really interesting.

The world he thought he understood was changing—and that was a serious problem.

His in-depth knowledge and grasp of future developments had been one of his greatest advantages.

Now, with these changes, that edge was slipping away.

Thankfully, it was just a single female Custodian for now.

It wasn't impossible for the Custodian Guard to have a special individual among their ranks. Besides, he couldn't exactly assume their gender.

Eden could only hope that those higher-dimensional jokers at GW wouldn't throw in too many new twists, or keep amping up the Imperium's power.

After all, his arrival point in this universe was at the end of the timeline.

Who knew what even greater terrors might emerge in the future?

Having sorted out his thoughts, Eden refocused on the Exterminatus issue.

The situation was worse than he had imagined, but he had to intervene.

As the Savior, he could not abandon those human worlds—he could not allow them to be obliterated by the Exterminatus. Even if it meant clashing with the Custodian Guard.

Eden contacted his second-in-command:

"Tacitus, reassign half of the Savior Fleet's forces for a new mission."

He ordered a detachment of the Savior Fleet to follow him to the nearby region, to eliminate the remaining Tyranid splinter fleets, and—at the same time—negotiate with the Custodian Guard to halt the Exterminatus order.

And if those Custodian Guard didn't understand reason…

He'd have no choice but to get impolite.

After issuing the order, Eden entered the Savior's Sanctum Armory.

It was time to change into new gear.

This time, he donned an incredibly ornate, sanctified replica of the Emperor's golden armor—the Savior's Holy Vestments: Golden Set.

Once Eden emerged in that armor, he looked like a second golden giant.

It was basically like getting up close and personal to the Custodian Guard while blasting an ult in their faces.

Whether it would leave them sobbing with grief or seething with rage… well, at least it would make an impression.

Eden stepped out of the armory, radiating a holy aura.

"This time… let's see how much weight the Savior's words carry within the Imperium."

He was ready to have a serious conversation with the Custodian Guard.

If he couldn't sort out these golden kernel-heads, then there was no point in staying in the Imperium any longer…

(End of Chapter)

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