A New Plan for the Ecclesiarchy

"The Imperial heretic is, in fact, myself."

Guilliman could well imagine the expressions on the faces of the Grey Knights and the Ordo Malleus if they knew that the Primarch, the Imperial Regent, was preparing to cultivate demonic turncoats.

Yet, Guilliman had no choice. Deeply aware of the threat posed by the four Chaos Gods, he knew clearly that he had to exhaust every possible means to ensure his absolute victory.

To deal with those abominations, using righteous methods would never lead to victory.

This is a universe where one competes to see who can sink the lowest.

Morality and rules are not as important as survival.

Humanity knows very little about demons, while demons know everything about humanity.

Coupled with the fact that vital technologies maintaining the integrity of the Imperium—such as psychic communication and faster-than-light travel—all rely on the Warp, the information asymmetry between humanity and the Chaos Gods is severe. It would be a miracle if the Imperium could win.

This situation must be improved.

Guilliman must ensure that the war between the Imperium of Man and the Warp is fought on equal footing.

If demons can enter reality and pile up trophies of skulls, why can't the Imperium enter the Warp to conduct a slaughter?

Cultivating a few demonic guides is not an unacceptable proposition.

Harboring heretical thoughts that would see him sent to the pyre by the Ecclesiarchy and the Ordo Malleus, Guilliman exited the secret chamber and used his own codes to re-enter the encrypted elevator.

When he stepped out of the elevator, the Honor Guard was still faithfully guarding the entrance.

"My Lord." Phicris saw Guilliman emerge and stepped forward to salute him. "Sicarius just sent a message; he wishes to see you, saying he has the latest intelligence."

"Let him come over to my reception room," Guilliman said. "We can resolve the matter he has encountered there."

"Understood." Phicris nodded and strode toward the other side to notify Sicarius.

"Let's go." Guilliman watched Phicris's back disappear into the corridor of the ship's passageway before heading toward another path.

The Honor Guard crowded around their master as he departed, while several Terminators remained behind, Bolters in hand, continuing to guard the entrance and forbidding anyone from approaching the area.

They needed to ensure that no one could break into the secret place that belonged solely to their liege.

After Guilliman left, the area fell back into darkness and silence.

The Terminators responsible for guarding this place were all veterans of the Ultramarines.

They could endure loneliness and silence far better than the recruits.

They did not need to find things to talk about like the newer soldiers.

Like statues, they stood there, silent and cold, faithfully fulfilling the task their master had entrusted to them.

Guilliman's reception room was much larger and far simpler than that of an ordinary commander; aside from the projectors and data crystals used for intelligence, there were no other decorations, as he pursued simplicity and utility.

To be honest, he did not like the skull culture of the Imperium.

The current Imperial nobility and the Adeptus Mechanicus loved to turn everything into the shape of human skulls to represent their purity as humans.

Over the long ten millennia, with the development of the Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition, the status of mutants had become increasingly low.

Those mutants could basically only serve in the military; no world in the Imperium was allowed to be ruled by mutants.

Once such a thing happened, that world would be regarded as rebellious by all factions of the Imperium.

When Guilliman returned to the reception room, Sicarius and Phicris had just arrived as well.

"My Liege," Sicarius said respectfully.

"What has happened?" Guilliman sat in his own large chair, gesturing for Sicarius to find a seat.

Sicarius found another chair and moved the data crystals and books on it to the side.

"News has come from the missionary world of Espandor. They hope that the Primarch can descend upon that world so that its inhabitants may feel the Emperor's Mercy and glory, or that the Primarch can set a location where they may come to make a pilgrimage," Sicarius said.

"A missionary world?" Guilliman's fingers tapped rhythmically on the table before him, indicating that he was deep in thought.

"Yes, this world suffered some incidents sixteen hundred years ago, after which the Ecclesiarchy moved in, purged the heretics upon it, and molded it into a missionary world within Ultramar," Sicarius explained the situation of Espandor.

Missionary worlds are also called church worlds or cathedral worlds, and they are populated by fanatical believers from various planets.

Just like the Perfect City that Guilliman had once burned, it was filled with poems and sculptures praising the Emperor; it was a fanatical religious planet.

Much of the history from ten thousand years ago had been lost, and the current Ecclesiarchy likely did not know of Guilliman's deed of burning the city of faith.

Even if they did know, they would not publicize it widely.

If one were to trace that history, they would understand that the Emperor did not like religion.

If the Emperor did not like religion, then what was the purpose of the Ecclesiarchy's existence?

For that reason, Espandor should not know what Guilliman had once done, otherwise, they would never dare to invite him to visit.

What would they want Guilliman to do there?

Are they not afraid of being burned again?

Guilliman pondered for a moment, then looked up at Sicarius. "Send them a reply: I shall arrive at Espandor in the coming days."

"Very well, my lord. Are there any other instructions?" Sicarius asked.

"None. Go and send them my reply." Guilliman waved his hand, signaling for Sicarius to attend to the tasks he had been assigned.

Sicarius withdrew from the reception room, the sound of his footsteps gradually fading into the distance.

"My lord, why must you go in person? You could simply designate a world and command them to come and pay their respects to you," Phicris asked, unable to hide his confusion.

Guilliman stood up and walked over to the porthole.

At this moment, they were still within the Warp, and all portholes were sealed to prevent the crew from succumbing to temptation, being bewitched by the Warp, and transforming into twisted monsters.

Nevertheless, a sliver of light still leaked through the gaps in the shutters, appearing eerie and unnatural.

In Guilliman's memories, he knew that the Primarch had faced the Warp directly several times; those bizarre scenes contained an unimaginable amount of information, enough to burn a man's mind to ash.

It was only thanks to his powerful Primarch physique that he had survived unscathed.

Had it been an ordinary person, they would have been dead beyond all hope long ago.

There were countless ways to die while traveling through the Warp, but dying from staring directly into it was undoubtedly one of the most foolish.

"I need to evaluate the value of Espandor, Phicris," Guilliman said. "The faith of the Ecclesiarchy has taken deep root in the hearts of the people; to eradicate it completely is now an impossibility. Furthermore, in this dark universe, the citizens of the Imperium need a shred of faith to sustain them through these difficult times."

"My lord, do you have a new plan for the Ecclesiarchy, then?" Phicris inquired.

"I have an immature idea, but the specific details can only be confirmed once we reach Espandor. I will find a way to bring the Ecclesiarchy under my control and minimize its influence on the Imperium," Guilliman said. "The power of the Ecclesiarchy is too great. They even have the authority to accuse a Chapter or a world of disloyalty and declare them traitors; that is far too dangerous. Religion makes men blind and strips them of their reason. The Ecclesiarchy must be brought to heel."

Since the birth of the Ecclesiarchy, the number of foolish acts they had committed was almost beyond counting.

While it was true that saints like Celestine had appeared to save the fate of the Imperium of Man, the Ecclesiarchy had nonetheless played an undeniable role in driving the Imperium toward ignorance.

In the 32nd Millennium, during the Beast Wars, the Ecclesiarchy incited believers to launch a fanatical crusade against the Ork attack moons, resulting in massive casualties.

In the 33rd Millennium, a schism occurred within the Ecclesiarchy; the Temple Sect purged the Light Alliance and seized control of all religious activities in the Imperium, causing human reason to gradually collapse and descend into an age of ignorance.

In the 34th Millennium, the Ecclesiarchy formed the Frateris Militia and purged the Twin Empire of New Terra, turning the Imperium into a full-blown theocratic state.

In the 36th Millennium, the newly appointed Ecclesiarch Vandire launched a reign of terror, during which he ordered Exterminatus upon at least a hundred human worlds, citing a lack of piety toward the Ecclesiarchy as the reason (acts of "impiety" included: failing to build enough statues of the Emperor, failing to welcome Ecclesiarchy processions with sufficient fervor, or failing to be active enough in religious donations).

He even launched a campaign against the Space Wolves, simply because the Space Wolves held fast to their own beliefs and refused to convert to the faith of the Ecclesiarchy.

The Imperium entered a period of decline during this time, and thousands of years of accumulation were exhausted by the ravages of religious activity.

In the 37th Millennium, thirty Chapters—comprising over twenty thousand Space Marines—were declared traitors by a saint of the Ecclesiarchy and sent on the Abyssal Crusade. Aside from the remnants of the Piercing Sword Chapter who managed to return, the other Chapters were completely annihilated, with more than half of them falling to total corruption.

These events represented only a few of the more notable atrocities committed by the Ecclesiarchy; many others were not detailed here, yet they were equally horrific.

The Emperor had been right all along: every religious organization was a malignant tumor.

Regrettably, Guilliman dared not excise this tumor directly, for doing so would kill the entire Imperium.

He had a new plan, one that would guide this fanatical faith toward the path he required as much as possible.