Approval, Arrest, and Detention

Talon's single sentence was essentially enough to decide the life or death of a Rogue Trader.

Rogue Traders did indeed possess immense power.

The Imperium did indeed treat them with a laissez-faire attitude.

However, all of this came with one prerequisite: that you had not rebelled and had not turned to Chaos.

And the Byrne Dynasty, the Rogue Traders before them, had crossed a red line that the Imperium absolutely could not tolerate.

If a retainer of the Byrne Dynasty had already been twisted by Chaos, then what about the rest of you?

"My lord, we didn't know!"

"My lord, we are innocent!"

Beep, beep, beep.

"."

"."

I want to believe you are innocent, too.

While the Rogue Traders above were being inspected, those who had infiltrated the Gamma World Utopia were not being spared either.

On the surface, it was a grand ceremony welcoming the Governor's return.

In the shadows, undercurrents were already surging.

Triangle Avenue.

The Byrne Dynasty retainers, who were waiting for a reply from Gamma World, were discussing a grand plan to overthrow the planet's regime and bring it under the rule of the Byrne Dynasty.

"We promise those people enough benefits, and they—"

Before the words could finish, the door to the reception room was knocked upon.

Looking down through the window, someone lowered their voice and hinted to a relatively elderly Byrne Dynasty retainer in the group:

"First Mate, many soldiers have arrived outside."

Unlike the citizens on the bustling Victor's Avenue, these troops quickly surrounded the reception room, standing guard with strict vigilance, as if they were guarding against them as they would a plague or disease.

They didn't even state the reason before they began to disinfect the surrounding area.

A sign prohibiting departure was written in High Gothic.

It was hung right in front of their faces.

"."

"."

A certain councilor who had been in contact with that reception room was cursing the policies of Gamma World.

But he hadn't even gone out to find help yet.

Then, the soldiers outside the door entered.

The opponent wore protective gear, walked toward him, and forced him back.

"What... what are you doing?"

"I am Councilor Lampus. Do you dare lay a hand on me? My son—"

"I'm sorry, Father. This is for your own good. Please do not leave this door; you will understand everything." Young Lampus walked out from behind the soldiers and issued an order: "Lock the door."

On the road.

Someone was preparing to participate in the activities to welcome the Governor.

They were also tapped on the shoulder.

Then, they were stopped.

"Mr. Hoss, I am from the Department of Military and Political Affairs. You have been in contact with some unnecessary people recently. Please cooperate with our work."

"."

"."

After Cisrain received the news, he issued instructions to the members of the Chief Council, especially the Department of Military and Political Affairs and the Medical Department, to carry out comprehensive precautions against all threats that Rogue Traders might bring.

Anyone who had ever been in contact with the Rogue Traders had to be quarantined and wait for testing.

Utopia was his foundation.

It was his base of operations.

Plagues and spores could break out in other places.

But not here.

On Victor's Avenue, the Chiefs who had remained behind waited quietly for Cisrain's return.

The great Governor Cisrain passed through the Arch of Triumph, bringing victory with him.

Golden sunlight filtered through the Arch of Triumph, casting a hazy radiance.

"Governor! Governor! Governor!!"

Cheers rose and fell; the boiling public sentiment was the highest tribute to Cisrain.

Vulkan had experienced more war.

It was either war or the road to war; smiles were as rare as flowers in scorched earth, leaving only endless pain and sorrow.

He could distinguish better than anyone else whether these people were truly living happily based on the sound of their cheers.

"Utopia. If the whole place is like this, it truly deserves to be called a Utopia, provided it is not disturbed by the flames of war."

If it weren't for the interference of war, this would be the most suitable place to live, right?

That was why they worked so hard after knowing what kind of cruel universe they were facing.

Those participating in the construction below were fully supportive, and those formulating national policy above had no selfish motives.

Twisting everyone from top to bottom into a single rope.

Perhaps this was what the Golden Age of the Emperor was like back then?

If the Primarch, the Lord of Fire Dragons, saw this, would he have a sense of familiarity?

"Lord Governor!"

"Lord Governor!"

The Chiefs of Finance, Military and Political Affairs, Education, and others held their breath and waited quietly.

They watched Cisrain's troops move along Victor's Avenue, passing through the Arch of Triumph.

Then, at Honor Plaza, he walked toward his declaration platform.

Cisrain reached out his hand, and the subjects below finally quieted down slowly.

Those soldiers, those subjects, those expectant gazes, those hopeful feelings.

They were expectant, yet anxious, urgently wanting to know how this expedition had gone, what great achievements they had created, and what terrible enemies they had encountered.

After a few seconds of quiet yet excited anticipation.

Cisrain announced to them.

"We have won!"

There was no excessive description, no flowery language, just like when he left carrying everyone's expectations.

He repaid the trust of his subjects with victory.

We have won.

Just a few short words.

They surpassed everything.

For the first expedition into the universe, the fleet led by the Governor returned in triumph.

To the subjects who had not yet stepped into the stars, this was the most heartening news.

"Victory! Victory! Victory! Victory!"

Cisrain reached out his hand again.

It became quiet once more.

In front of his subjects, Cisrain continued his speech: "We are the descendants of the Golden Age, bearing the mission of returning to the peak. We have been down-and-out, we have been suppressed, we have been at our lowest, we have been enslaved, we have resisted, we have been slaughtered, but from today on, we have stood up. All the things of the past have become a thing of the past."

"We will not return to the Dark Age, nor will we allow ourselves to return to the Dark Age. We will inherit the legacy of the Golden Age, step out of Gamma World, step onto the Sky Ladder, and climb to the highest stage of the universe step by step. No matter what enemies the future holds, they cannot stop our progress, because we are reclaiming the glory of the Golden Age. We are the proud children of the Golden Age! Long live Gamma World! Humanity First!"

"Humanity First!"

"Humanity First!"

"Humanity First!"

The excited citizens of Gamma World needed to know their enemies.

Keeping the truth from the citizens did not necessarily protect them; it could also lead them into ignorance, causing more people to fall into darkness and Chaos.

Regardless of whether they knew about Chaos or not, the greatest threat they faced in this process was always Chaos. At least until the disaster level reached level three, they did not have enough technology to study and eliminate the threat of Chaos.

Cisrain's gaze lingered on the template.

The converging ideology would determine the direction of future development.

[Ideology: Humanity First]

[Dark Matter Engine Research: 20%]

The equipment of the Tau Empire had, in a sense, shortened their research time.

The Webway of the Aeldari and the Blackstone creations of the Necrons could actually speed up their research as well.

Rogue Trader: Luna Wolves Legion, we have a commission issued by the Imperium. You need to cooperate with our actions.

Luna Wolf (Earnest): The commission you issued, does it come from the Emperor?

Rogue Trader: No.

Luna Wolf (Disdainful): Then does it come from Guilliman?

Rogue Trader: No.

Luna Wolf (Mocking): Then it must come from the High Lords.

Rogue Trader: No.

Luna Wolf (Furious): Then who else could it be?

Rogue Trader: The Warmaster?