Kasgar had transmigrated.
He had transmigrated to an unfamiliar wasteland planet.
From the crude sounds made by the locals, who had degenerated to the point of losing written language, he learned this world's name.
Chimos.
A world that had lost everything, leaving only despair.
Even now, seated within cold iron walls, he could still hear without pause the mournful groans of the fortress as terrifying radiation storms and countless violent particles battered against it.
There had never been good times here.
And Karax Fortress, where he, Kasgar Sherlock, lived, was one of the few remaining human shelters on this dying planet.
A coffin.
That was Kasgar Sherlock's first impression of this place since birth.
Beyond the fortress lay a forbidden zone for life.
And for survivors like them within the fortress, everything they did apart from awaiting the exhaustion of their resources was futile, doing nothing more than delaying the tolling of the death knell.
Fortunately, despite the harsh environment, his birth was not particularly bad.
The Sherlock Family was one of the old noble families that controlled this human fortress.
Compared to those workers who had to toil endlessly on assembly lines from the age of three, Kasgar, the youngest son of the noble Sherlock Family, was far luckier.
Though he was not well liked and was often envied and excluded by his elder brothers.
For the past twenty years, he had been kept under house arrest in the Manor, never taking a single step outside.
The fortress was also a cage.
But because of that, Kasgar was able to enjoy the rare leisure found in this shelter, curling up beneath the shadows cast by the powerful behind high walls and barely clinging to life.
His repetitive and dull days continued until his twentieth birthday.
At last, his long life under house arrest saw a turning point.
He accidentally learned of a deeply concealed piece of news.
A political marriage.
For it, several of Kasgar's dear elder brothers had long been fighting tooth and nail.
Yet he had known nothing about it.
If he had not overheard six servants whispering about it outside his door six days ago, the handsome Kasgar might have withdrawn from the competition early.
According to those servants, the woman his brothers were scrambling to curry favor with was a legendary figure in Karax Fortress.
At fifteen, she taught herself the structure of the machinery in the production workshops, successfully improved the assembly lines, and became the shelter's self-taught engineer.
At twenty, she had greatly improved the workers' treatment through the construction of various new mechanical devices in the factories, and was elected the new manager of Karax Fortress's factories.
While winning the support and affection of countless people, she had also entered the ranks of Karax Fortress's rulers.
Legend had it that she possessed a cascade of silver-white hair, soul-stirring violet eyes, and a flawless, breathtaking face to match.
Any machine that passed through her hands could be swiftly restored to pristine condition, with its production efficiency soaring.
According to the workers, she was the Goddess of Water from ancient local legends, one who spread sweet rain across barren lands.
Kasgar had no desire to agree with such ridiculous claims.
To survive on this dying wasteland planet while possessing peerless beauty, innate mechanical knowledge, and an absolute charm that captivated everyone.
Impossible.
There could not possibly be such a perfect human being in the world.
Either his brothers, who believed in such legends and were even fighting over them, had simply let their brains degenerate into primitive forms along with civilization.
Or they had eaten so many starch bars that they were hallucinating.
That said.
Deep down, those claims always seemed to give him an intense and familiar sense of déjà vu.
But no matter what, if he could win the woman's favor and marry her, that seemed to be his only chance to break free from control.
He did not want to remain trapped in this fortress-cage for the rest of his life.
He would sneak out to meet her.
If he could successfully marry that woman, this family would no longer be able to imprison him in the slightest.
Having made up his mind, Kasgar took a map of the fortress's hidden passages from a drawer, along with a purple key that could open the Manor's side gate.
It was rather strange, really.
Even he himself could not remember where these things had come from.
Reality was often more fantastical than legend.
That was a lesson he had often learned in his previous life.
Sneaking out of the Manor on tiptoe, Kasgar nervously looked around.
For the first time, he had escaped the watch of the many guards. It was also the first time he had left his own courtyard, following the address described by the servants to the factory where his "possible fiancée" worked.
The plan went astonishingly smoothly—at the heavily guarded Manor entrance, he did not see even a single guard.
Where had they all gone?
Kasgar did not know.
Just like that, unobstructed, he slipped into Karax's lower-level factory.
Steel behemoths roared, and sparks scattered from crimson furnaces. Countless numb workers performed the same monotonous tasks on assembly lines. In the factories of this dying world, work efficiency was the only requirement.
He saw her soon enough.
She was the only beautiful figure in that dark, cramped factory.
And in that instant alone, Kasgar froze.
The servants had not lied.
His intended marriage partner truly was a goddess.
As an engineer, she sat beside a black, ancient machine. Her clear, brilliant amethyst eyes were fixed on the components in her hands as she continuously searched through and adjusted them.
Though her engineer's uniform was simple, it still outlined her agile and voluptuous curves.
And what drew the eye most was her beautiful white hair, its exquisite length flowing quietly like a river of stars.
But such beautiful hair was casually draped over that filthy, ugly machine!
What a terrible waste.
Fortunately, even though the machine was spewing thick black smoke, even though she sat barefoot on the floor of this dirty, poorly cleaned factory.
Not the slightest trace of grime dared to touch her immaculate body.
She remained as pristine as new.
Perfect.
That was Kasgar's first impression of her.
The legends were all true.
His potential fiancée truly was a goddess.
And just as Kasgar was stunned by her perfection, she finished her repairs.
After rapidly reassembling it so fast that the naked eye could only catch fragments of afterimages, the machine before her began operating once more.
Following her modifications, even its rotation speed was several points faster than those of the same kind nearby.
Perhaps the machine was atoning for defiling perfection.
Kasgar thought that for no reason at all.
Then, she turned and looked at Kasgar.
Another uninvited guest from the Sherlock family.
She rose to her feet, her dazzling amethyst eyes now gazing with interest at the somewhat timid Kasgar.
Wow.
So tall.
Kasgar looked up at her and could not help sighing inwardly.
Even more exaggerated than the legends.
This goddess stood over two meters tall, nearly three meters—a giant!
Even though Kasgar came from a powerful family, and compared to those malnourished people who could only eat starch bars, his height, build, and appearance were all considered exceptional.
Yet before the godlike woman in front of him, he could only feel inferior.
Anyone would feel inferior.
But why was there also the faintest sense of familiarity?
Had he met her before?
And what was her name?
"Kasgar Sherlock."
His mouth was dry, and he was nervous.
He bowed stiffly and introduced himself.
"The youngest son of the Sherlock family."
"Fulgrim."
Her voice was crisp and sweet, like honey that humanity in this world had yet to earn the right to taste.
She smiled and greeted him.
Faced with one Sherlock family suitor after another, she had long prepared polite replies.
"F-Fulgrim?!"
However, Kasgar was startled out of his wits.
What came from his mouth was strange speech she had never expected.
He asked a question that was not a question.
"Are you Fulgrim???"
"This Chimos of ours... is it... that Chemos?"
He clutched his head in both hands, his pupils shaking violently.
His voice trembled slightly.
It was a ridiculous question, wasn't it?
Other than this Chemos, which Chemos could there be?
"Yes?"
"My adoptive parents named me Fulgrim. It was indeed taken from the name of a deity in Chemos's ancient mythology."
"But I am not that goddess."
Even as a perfect person, Fulgrim had to consider what he meant when faced with such a question.
In her view, Kasgar had most likely mistaken her for the Goddess of Water from Chemos's legends.
Such things had happened before.
She was simply so perfect that she could give people the shock of beholding a god.
During that brief silence, Kasgar blinked hard, as though his mind were digesting some profound and obscure knowledge.
Very quickly, Kasgar understood.
He understood the origin of his handsome appearance.
He understood why he had heard six servants discussing this matter six days ago.
He understood why he had suddenly found the carefully guarded purple gate key.
He understood the dying planet Chemos where he was, as well as Fulgrim, the Primarch of the Third Legion, before him.
He understood that he had transmigrated into the Warhammer World.
He understood everything.
Then he smiled in relief.
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