Imperium Secundus? Imperium Tertius!

Ramesses adjusted his mindset after a brief moment of melancholy.

After all, he was an adult; a bit of complaining and venting was enough. Good brothers were willing to listen to your inner pain, but the problem now was that everyone was stuck in this prison, and no one was better off than anyone else.

If he couldn't pull himself together and ended up making the other three depressed, that would be a disaster.

The most urgent priority was to study how to survive in this world.

"Ahem, let us begin this Imperium Secundus representative meeting under the witness of the Kinship Warband."

Romulus, seeing the atmosphere was a bit heavy, coughed and spoke up.

"Why not just call it the Third Imperium? It makes Ramesses II feel like an outsider."

Arthur couldn't help but make a snide remark.

"That's not impossible."

"I think it's fine—munch munch—how about we name our future—munch munch—warband that too!"

"I think you're looking to eat a Bolter round."

The four seated there had no reverence for the Imperium at all. After all, the Imperium was currently a rotting corpse with sustainability issues, trapped within a heaven-defying political system while surrounded by the hungry gaze of Chaos swarms.

If not for the countless heroes who fought to the death for the future of humanity, and the one sitting upon the Golden Throne, the Imperium would have been buried long ago.

If they had to describe the Imperium and this galaxy in one sentence—

"The Imperium is a fermented pile of crap kneaded together from countless dregs, while the Warp is the toilet, and it can only survive by feeding on the crap."

Arthur offered this sharp critique.

Excluding the influence of Chaos, the Imperium itself was a rotten political entity, essentially something forcibly cobbled together by Emperor for a final gamble on humanity's future.

Now that the gamble had failed, and He was sitting on the toilet being refined into a supreme imperial weapon by the Ecclesiarchy, the headless corpse naturally became more foul-smelling as time passed.

"As for those flashes of brilliance that catch the eye, a cup of clear water poured into a sea of feces changes nothing, and the process itself is nothing but a total tragedy."

"Then there are the xenos. Not to mention that we, wearing human skins, fundamentally can't integrate, the Orks are purely a race for fun, the Aeldari are being eyed by Slaanesh, and even if the Necrons have high technology, aren't they just a slave society?"

"Next is the T'au Empire. Hmm, I can only say I'll wait until I see it. I'm a human, not an Ethereal. After all, the existence of this race merely proves that many of the Imperium's so-called 'necessary evils' were never necessary at all, making the Imperium look even more like trash."

"Well said!"

The three applauded one after another.

"So, none of us have any illusions about this universe."

Ramesses breathed a sincere sigh of relief: "I am very gratified."

"Since we've abandoned illusions, then there is only struggle."

Seeing that the heavy atmosphere had lightened up, Romulus took the opportunity to lay out his plan.

"Currently, there are three things we need to confirm: the era and region we are in, what exactly we are, and what we are going to do next."

He then tossed a mechanical plug onto the table.

"I found this after digging through the warship's logs. When this ship entered the Warp, it was July of 740.M41, Terra time. The location was the Piaerde Sector in the northern Ultima Segmentum. This name might be unfamiliar to you, but you must be very familiar with the Ghoul Stars nearby."

"A backwater, then."

Ramesses sighed, raised his hand to pull the cogitator in the sanctuary over with his psychic power, and input the data from Romulus's records. A star map unfolded before everyone.

"Piaerde Sector, named after the Rogue Trader Piaerde from the Great Crusade era. It has twelve imperial civilized worlds. Only Piaerde, which serves as its core, has any value; it's practically a half-Forge World. Let me see—"

"We should still be within this sector. I am still sending out astropathic signals; it might take a while for the Imperium to reply."

Everyone knew the efficiency of the Imperium. Although this ship used Deathwatch identification codes, due to hard constraints, they might have to drift in space for a while.

After all, the ship's bridge had been sheared off by Ork scrap metal; expecting it to move on its own was probably a bit difficult.

"This ship was heading to support the main world of Piaerde after receiving a distress call. It is said that a heretical cult broke out there. It can basically be confirmed as Chaos; otherwise, it wouldn't have been enough to summon the Deathwatch and the Cadians."

Romulus added.

Everyone nodded, indicating they understood.

"Then let's move to the second question."

Romulus scanned the three of them.

"What exactly are we now?"

"Primaris Space Marine?"

Knowing the era they were in, Arthur felt that the Mk X Tacticus Power Armor he was wearing was quite out of place.

It was still about three hundred years before Abaddon, the "Chaos Warmaster of a Hundred Victories," blew up Cadia. If they, a bunch of PSMs, were seen wandering around by some Tech-Priest, he would probably emit a shrill binary shriek.

"Physically, perhaps. No, wait, even physically we aren't, or at least not entirely. Otherwise, I would have been turned to dust by Rubricae spells long ago."

Picking up a chicken leg and taking a bite, Ramesses noticed Arthur, who hadn't even taken off his helmet.

"Why aren't you eating? We're all old friends here, no need to be so reserved."

"Arthur still maintains doubts about our abilities; even his Low Gothic was self-taught."

Romulus spoke up to help explain, leaving Ramesses stunned.

"...Damn."

Ramesses hadn't cared about the consequences the moment he figured out his ability; in his mind, since he'd already transmigrated into the Warhammer universe and hit rock bottom, the only way was up. Even if Tzeentch was just messing with him, he'd accept it.

Then, the more he used it, the more wrong it felt.

The Chaos Gods didn't seem to have this level of capability.

"A good thing. I still admire Arthur for being able to maintain restraint at a time like this, and unlike Karna, who just gave me two shots the moment we met."

"I was having a mental breakdown, the Black Rage was on autopilot—alright, my fault, sorry."

Romulus stared with deep resentment at the guy who was taking advantage of everyone else's analysis to stuff his face like he hadn't eaten in eight lifetimes.

"..."

Arthur felt a bit awkward, not knowing how to respond.

Romulus immediately sensed that something was off.

"You didn't actually think about stabbing me, did you, bro?"

"Uh..."

Arthur remained silent, beginning to organize his thoughts.

He actually had considered stabbing his good brother twice. At first, he suspected Romulus was just a daemon of Tzeentch sent to deceive him, and it wasn't until he conjured a bunch of Astartes out of thin air that his suspicions were slightly alleviated.

If not for Emperor manifesting and giving him some clarity on whether he had any Chaos God components within him, he had even considered trapping this ship in the Warp before uncovering the truth, just to ensure that if it really were some Chaos God conspiracy, it wouldn't be brought out to wreak havoc on the real world.

If it truly were a conspiracy, he would have had no choice but to act.

"..."

Romulus watched the silent Arthur, basically able to deduce his childhood friend's train of thought.

The resentment that hadn't yet dissipated grew even heavier.