Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

Ancient horn blasts echoed across the sky.

Upon the burning, flame-wreathed bloodlands, the armies of Khorne's daemons gathered, their formations stretching endlessly into the distance.

The mere marching of their feet sent violent tremors coursing through the earth.

This was to be the greatest invasion the Blood God had launched against the galaxy in millennia, deploying eight times as many Bloodthirsters as ever before.

And their supreme commander was none other than the Exalted Bloodthirster – Ka'Bandha.

He bore the hopes and expectations of all Khorne's daemons. They yearned for their favored champion to sever the heads of the Hope Primarch and the Savior.

Such a feat would be the greatest victory achieved by any Greater Daemon since the days of the Horus Heresy – a triumph that none could rival.

A snarling brass chariot ignited with bloodfire beneath him – once the mount of the Blood God Himself. This terrifying daemon engine alone possessed might akin to that of a powerful Greater Daemon.

When Ka'Bandha had laid eyes upon it within the Brass Vault, he had seized it without hesitation, knowing only he was worthy of such a divine gift.

Khorne had permitted his favored champion's audacity, praising his courage.

The Blood God needed such ferocious, unstoppable warriors to conquer the galaxy in His name.

Furthermore, Ka'Bandha had also demanded stronger armor and a mightier battle-axe, pledging great victories in return.

Of course, all of this came at a price.

This campaign carried the weight of Khorne's and the entire realm's expectations.

Should he fail, the Blood God's favored would face the harshest punishment imaginable – with no room for mercy.

Ka'Bandha stood tall upon his brass chariot, surveying the vast legion below. This was the pinnacle of his existence, commanding the bulk of Khorne's elite daemon forces.

Truthfully, he had not wished to march forth so soon, believing the time was not yet right.

But Khorne's urgings had come, again and again, until on the eighth demand, Ka'Bandha knew he could delay no longer.

He accepted the order to march, seizing the opportunity to demand further rewards.

Now, with his newly gifted chariot, armor, and battle-axe, his confidence burned fiercely.

"Perhaps…it is time to face that fated enemy – the Hope Primarch, the Savior."

Such were Ka'Bandha's thoughts.

He was no longer who he once was. He possessed the strength and faith to defeat his hated foe and end his nightmares forever.

Then, he would become even stronger, unstoppable.

Moreover, even if he could not defeat him, he had confidence he could retreat safely. It was worth the risk.

ROAR—

Ka'Bandha unleashed a savage bellow, his maw spewing forth soul-scorching daemonic flames.

He issued his war command:

"In the name of the Exalted Bloodthirster – MARCH!"

The brass bull-beasts hauling his monstrous chariot thundered forward, churning up volcanic ash and magma as they charged toward the colossal Brass Gates ahead.

Behind them, the daemon legions surged in pursuit, the ground shaking beneath their advance.

They would reach the Savior's territories, unleashing a war the likes of which had never been seen.

And they would arrive before the Plague Lord could seize Ultramar, claiming a realm just as vast…

...

Goliath Sub-Sector, Matila

At the entrance to the spaceport, a massive red banner hung, visible to every vessel:

"In the name of the Savior, build an unbreakable defense against the plague;

Cooperate with disinfection and purification, sever every vector of disease;

Uphold public hygiene, purify and beautify the environment."

Years earlier, the Savior's realm had launched a territory-wide campaign promoting hygiene, urging citizens to wash hands frequently, disinfect often, and cleanse any place where filth might accumulate.

The results had been extraordinary.

Even when plague struck worlds within the realm, casualties were far lower than elsewhere, and order remained stable.

Treatment and eradication proceeded in an orderly fashion.

SSSSHHHH—

Mechanical arms extended, spraying disinfectant solution.

A luxurious dark-gold shuttle descended through the orbital sanitation rings before gliding down toward the surface.

In the quarantine zone below, rows of white temporary tents housed tireless purification crews. Upon seeing the shuttle descending, they paused their thirteenth daily cleaning and bowed deeply.

For they recognized the shuttle's distinct emblem and livery – the mark of the great Savior.

"Brown, what is the situation here?"

Eden disembarked from the shuttle, inclining his head slightly to the senior official who had come to greet him.

This official, named Brown, had earned great merit during the reconquest of Matila, rising step by step to become planetary governor.

Now his hair was tinged with grey, and he carried a dignified air.

Yet Eden always remembered the ragged little Brown who once followed behind Saint Fran.

Perhaps it was this hazy memory that led him to promote Brown during a critical appointment, elevating him to planetary governor.

A ruler in his own right, equivalent to an Imperial Planetary Governor, though under many checks and balances from the Throneworld.

Still, it spared him the crushing burdens of Imperial tithes.

"My Lord Savior."

Brown bowed respectfully, neither servile nor arrogant.

"We established quarantine zones swiftly, containing casualties and reducing mortality to 0.4%.

Furthermore, our planet maintains 65% of its pre-plague productivity.

Within two months, that figure will rise further until full recovery."

"Excellent. Your work is commendable."

Eden nodded in approval. Among his many governors, Brown ranked among the most capable, despite not being a graduate of the core Loyalist Academy – only a later entrant who had completed supplementary training.

A true early-era veteran and practical administrator.

He continued his inspection of the epidemic control zones.

Due to the Plague Lord's supernatural influences, patients manifested varied symptoms.

Upon detecting infected individuals, planetary authorities immediately isolated them, categorizing by type. Those with mild symptoms could be cured simply by basking in the Holy Spire's sunlight.

For severe cases, however, intervention was necessary.

The plague had penetrated deep into their bodies. Direct exposure to intense holy light, while killing the disease, would also gravely harm or kill the host alongside it.

Thus, patients were further classified by known or unknown pathogens, then divided into groups by physical, mental, or spiritual affliction.

From there, increasingly fine sorting and numbering were conducted to identify the most dangerous cases.

With such meticulous efficiency, tens of thousands were separated into the smallest manageable units for progressive treatment and purification.

Priests offered blessings throughout.

Once patients improved and became mild cases, they were sent to the Holy Spire for sunlight therapy.

Those deemed incurable with high mutation risk, destined to die, were given terminal care – allowing them to sleep without pain, their souls returning to the Throne.

Their bodies were then taken to cremation sites, where priests prayed and sprinkled holy water before burning them to ash, ensuring total purification.

Every step was performed rigorously, with quarantine officers, medical sisters, and purification unit officers each inspecting and approving the work before any process concluded.

Even something as simple as cleaning the floor required such formal validation.

Eden watched the streams of medical sisters, medics, and priests clad in full sealed gear. Despite facing plague, they wore gentle smiles rather than fear.

They were angels of mercy.

The Savior's realm understood well: fear only hastened the spread and infiltration of plague.

Thus, all medical personnel strove to smile, maintaining calm to comfort patients and bring warmth.

"In the name of the Savior, take this candy – it won't hurt anymore, okay?"

Through his keen senses, Eden observed a scene within a sealed quarantine tent.

Inside, a female medic knelt before a little boy, offering him a candy.

"T…thank you, nurse sister…"

The boy sucked on the sweet, his pained expression softening.

But Eden could see the truth. The child could not be saved, not within this quarantine camp.

Current general medicines could not cure such deep plague corruption.

Of course, the Savior's realm had newly developed purification serums that could cure him.

But they were strategic-grade resources, costly beyond measure, with production only just beginning. They would not be spent on a single ordinary patient.

Only by deploying them judiciously could the maximum lives be saved.

Life was priceless.

But in this grim darkness of the far future, the worth of every soul was weighed carefully, each person's value squeezed dry in the war against Chaos.

Even here, where the Savior's realm showed far greater humanity, such sacrifices were inevitable.

Coldly speaking, these people were fortunate to be born here rather than in the Imperium.

Had this been Imperial territory, they would likely have received no treatment – merely thrown alive into mass incineration pits to stop the plague's spread.

That the Savior's realm offered this much was mercy itself.

Soon, the child's tender voice spoke again:

"Nurse sister…when can I leave? Mommy and Daddy are taking me to the Holy World for the Emperor's Ascension Festival.

We'll pray to the Savior's statue too.

Daddy said…it's so big, and if little kids pray to Him, they'll become smart. I've been waiting so, so long…"

His family were laborers, and they had queued for many years for this one chance to visit the sacred world.

Perhaps in their entire lives, this would have been their only glimpse of that hallowed place.

Alas, it was nothing but a fleeting dream now.

The nurse hesitated, then reached out to stroke the boy's head through her hazmat gloves, sticky fluid seeping through.

"Very…soon. After this test, you'll be able to go out…"

But her heart ached. From her experience, the child's chances of passing that test were vanishingly small.

Perhaps the next time she saw him, the plague would have already devoured him completely.

"Sigh…let's at least let this child have a glimpse…"

Listening to their conversation, Eden let out a quiet sigh, unable to steel his heart completely.

He raised his hand and gathered a gentle surge of psychic energy, casting it upon the boy to grant a temporary blessing.

In an instant, golden, soothing light enveloped the child. Warm, holy life-force slowly drove away the plague within him.

Before their eyes, his condition visibly improved.

"By the Savior, a miracle has descended…this is the very blessing spoken of in the Redemption Scriptures!"

The female medic fell to her knees in prayer at the sight of this miracle, while priests rushed over to conduct a blessing ceremony, their gazes filled with awe.

Throughout the quarantine zone, morale soared at this display of divine power, and patients felt renewed will to survive.

Yet the Savior who wrought this miracle did not reveal himself. Instead, he turned and departed silently with his entourage.

For there were far more important tasks awaiting him.

"Kugath, damn that Plague Lord…"

Eden's expression darkened. While he could, out of a moment of mercy, save a single child through his blessings, he could not save them all.

Countless thousands were destined to die beneath the corruption of the plague.

All he could do was eradicate the plague from his realm as swiftly as possible – to annihilate every Nurgle daemon daring to spread filth here and bring this nightmare to an end.

Already, the first batches of purification serums had been shipped to the worlds worst affected by plague, to cut off the infestation at its source.

Matila was among the highest priority targets.

According to intelligence, the plague's severity within the Savior's realm was due to Mortarion, the Death Lord, Prince of Decay, having established a covert corruption network here.

From it, foul energies of the Garden of Nurgle flowed continuously into reality.

And that network was not even activated yet. The damage it wrought was merely from its dormant state.

Once fully awakened, plague infection would spread catastrophically, inflicting unthinkable losses upon his realm.

It would also paralyze the legions' ability to reinforce other fronts.

Thankfully, Eden had located the network's core node, hidden upon Matila itself, steadily exerting its malignant influence.

That was why plague here was so severe.

No matter what, he had to destroy this corruption network before matters worsened further.

Brown received a new report and immediately bowed:

"My Lord, as per your orders, all civilians in the target area have been evacuated."

Eden nodded, casting a glance at Carter.

"Deploy the troops. Thoroughly search and cleanse that zone. Find and destroy the corruption device!"

...

Factory District.

The endless roar of manufacturing machinery fell silent. The sprawling complexes were eerily still, devoid of any human presence.

WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH—

Dozens of landing craft arrived, touching down upon the factory depot plaza.

Hundreds of Thunder Guardians and thousands of Void Angels disembarked, breaking into squads that fanned out swiftly.

Each squad was accompanied by a psyker-savant carrying a sorcerous artifact.

The corruption device created by the Death Lord existed within the veil between reality and the warp. Ordinary sensors and mortal sight could never detect it.

Even psychic probing and augury tools would be blocked.

But the artifacts crafted by Zaraphiston could trace the filth's faintest echoes.

Under a relentless, no-expense-spared sweep, the Space Marines soon located the corruption device's coordinates and sent a signal to the Savior.

Before long, Eden's shuttle arrived with urgency.

Fully armed in battle-model golden armor, Eden advanced upon a massive factory hall.

This was a vast civilian goods production facility, towering several hundred meters high, a colossal steel beast sprawling across the land.

Without hesitation, he led his Thunder Guardians and Void Angels into its cavernous interior.

Meanwhile outside, the Void Angels constructed layered defensive lines, positioning numerous super-heavy artillery pieces and melta weapon batteries. Dozens of special launchers were assembled, each loaded with pale, sacred missiles.

They were taking no chances.

The Savior had gone all-in, bringing with him his realm's most prized strategic weapons – dozens of large-scale sacred ash missiles.

And above them, atmospheric control platforms floated into position over the factory.

Within their rainfall modules were tanks of concentrated purification serum, ready to unleash a cleansing downpour at any moment.

A rain that would give Nurgle's daemons a thorough "bath."

Such rainfall was comparable to, if not even more effective than, sacred ash bombardments – tailor-made weapons against the daemons of Nurgle.

The Savior was preparing for the worst.

Even if the Death Lord himself, Mortarion, descended, he would pay a heavy price to escape.

Inside the Factory.

Faint mechanical hums resonated through the darkness.

"Ts…no illusions, no warp traces…that damn moth's dark forging is impressive."

Eden murmured as he approached the corruption device's suspected location, now within a hundred meters.

Yet even at such close range, neither he nor his warriors could see any sign of blasphemy.

Everything appeared perfectly normal, devoid of rot or corruption.

Without the sorcerous detection artifact, they would have only discovered it after activation, at the cost of countless lives.

"By the Savior, I see it…the corruption device…what blasphemy this is!"

Suddenly, a Void Angel psyker gasped out.

Other psykers around him immediately assumed combat stances, their psychic pressure flaring, pressing upon everyone's minds.

HUMMMMM—

Eden stepped forward into the zone.

It felt as if he crossed a boundary of reality itself, entering a realm overlapping with the factory.

Instantly, the stench of Chaos overwhelmed him. The ground became a bubbling, reeking swamp, and rotting flesh hung from the surrounding machinery.

Clouds of black flies swirled above.

Raising his eyes, Eden saw the corruption device suspended in the air – a massive tripod clockwork forged of rusted iron, glass, and vile intent.

It stood as tall as the factory itself.

At its center, a spherical core contained bubbling, incomprehensible fluid, around which three insane mainsprings wound perpetually.

Their central axle did not anchor in the material world but plunged into the warp.

Most striking was the clock atop the structure, with three hands running counterclockwise, its pendulums swaying back and forth.

With each tick, plague corruption deepened, and ghostly visions of Nurgle's Garden flickered into view.

"Mystifying thing…destroy it."

Eden could not begin to fathom its design. Chaos' dark forging arts were always so utterly nonsensical.

But it mattered not. He would simply obliterate it. The Mechanicus adepts could study the wreckage later.

At his command, heavy bolters, melta guns, demolition grenades, and psychic blasts all struck the corruption device in a massive barrage.

Yet it seemed unaffected.

POP—

Eden hefted a launcher and fired a small sacred ash missile.

BOOM— A miniature sun erupted, burning against the corruption device.

Strangely, more corruptive energies surged from the phantom of Nurgle's Garden, forming a protective barrier against the holy assault.

"Damn…this thing even has special shielding with temporal traits!"

Seeing this, Eden immediately used his psychic might to tear apart the factory's steel roof, exposing the corruption device to open air.

Now, it could no longer hide.

At that instant, as he ordered concentrated fire, time itself seemed to warp.

Eden saw the vision of Nurgle's Garden grow clearer, a vast portal forming within it.

Something was coming through!

Even worse, a new and far deadlier report arrived.

His old rival, the Exalted Bloodthirster, Ka'Bandha, was charging this way – leading a force many times larger than their last clash, an unstoppable tide.

It seemed he was determined to have their fated battle at last, unheeding of any persuasion.

"Damn it…when it rains, it pours. This is going to be a two-front war…"

A cold dread tingled along Eden's scalp.

To face both Nurgle and Khorne's legions at once – the Savior's realm would become the main battlefield.

He abruptly withdrew from the time-warped corruption zone, issuing full-scale combat orders to both his ground forces and orbital fleets.

At the same time, he summoned more reinforcements to Matila.

Finally, Eden urgently messaged his logistics department:

"Get me that Super Tsar – ship it here at maximum speed!"

(End of Chapter)

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