Primaris Space Marines

"I will do it... Lord Guilliman..."

Cawl's voice became incredibly hoarse, yet it was filled with an unprecedented, magma-hot resolve. "I will do it!

Even if it costs me everything—my knowledge, my body, my very existence... I will use all my wisdom to forge this path!

So that humanity... may rise again!!"

"That's more like it, Cawl."

Guilliman withdrew his psychic power. The illusion receded like a tide, and the workshop came back into view, though a trace of that warm golden light seemed to linger.

He pressed Cawl's shoulder firmly once more, a satisfied, all-knowing smile appearing on his face.

Good. This time, I've completely tied this Archmagos to our warship.

Guilliman knew it perfectly well.

Primarch Roboute Guilliman and Cawl had always enjoyed a good relationship.

Otherwise, Cawl would never have spent ten thousand years of effort forging Fate Armor and waiting for the Primarch's return.

But Guilliman knew very well that he was not the "original version."

He did not possess as many idealistic principles and burdens as the Primarch. He was more pragmatic in his actions, even... willing to do whatever it took.

He absolutely did not want any estrangement or divided loyalties to arise with this priceless gem who represented the technological pinnacle of the Imperium of Man.

Such a "weapon of mass destruction" had to be brought entirely and wholeheartedly under his command. There could not be the slightest wavering!

Therefore, as a leader well versed in human nature, Guilliman chose the most classic—and often most effective—move!

Making promises!

And not ordinary promises, either. He was painting something super, invincible, and enormous.

So enormous that no member of the Adeptus Mechanicus—especially a visionary like Cawl, who had already embarked upon the path of innovation—

could resist it, or even avoid being set ablaze by it!

As everyone knew, after ten thousand years of development, the Adeptus Mechanicus had nearly gone mad.

They fanatically worshipped the creed of "the weakness of flesh, the ascension of machinery," desperately replacing their natural flesh with mechanical parts.

Their zeal far surpassed that of the Iron Hands Legion of old.

After all, the Iron Hands at least possessed the foundation of Astartes, while many members of the Adeptus Mechanicus had begun as mere mortals!

Yet no matter how many components they replaced, the decaying brain core that belonged to mortals

remained a limit that the vast majority of Tech-priests could never overcome.

It was also the hidden ache and confusion in their hearts over their "incomplete ascension."

Even Belisarius Cawl, no matter how thoroughly he had modified himself, remained trapped in the twin philosophical and technical dilemma of "what comes next?"

And now, Guilliman had directly placed a radiant road leading straight toward the ultimate goal before him, bluntly and irresistibly:

Stop obsessing over replacing flesh with metal!

That is merely the beginner stage!

Your ultimate goal should be to become the embodiment of the very concept of "machinery" within the Warp—to become a true lesser god, standing alongside the Emperor!

The Machine God!

Guilliman believed that no true elite of the Adeptus Mechanicus could refuse such temptation.

The facts proved that he had gambled correctly.

At this moment, Cawl knelt on the ground and swore his allegiance. What burned in his eyes was no longer merely loyalty, but piety and fanaticism born of finding his ultimate destination.

As for whether this grand promise could be fulfilled...

A profound smile curled across Guilliman's lips.

Personally, he believed there would be no problem at all.

He might not yet be able to take on the four Chaos Gods.

But according to the "plot," on his way to Terra,

there would certainly be enthusiastic ambushes and "gifts" from Chaos, such as several Great Daemons too stupid to know better.

If he gave them a proper "welcome" and absorbed enough Warp essence, he might be able to restore or forge his own lesser-god Divinity ahead of time!

I don't know how a Primarch's Warp essence awakens, but this path of Devouring Evolution is something I can clearly see and grasp!

Once he possessed a Warp status approaching—or even reaching—the level of the Emperor walking among mortals ten thousand years ago,

this "promise" would no longer be an empty one.

Then he could launch an Indomitus Crusade, twist off Abaddon's head, and use it as a ball.

Then drag out that secretive "Lord of the Forge," Vashtorr, and beat him half to death...

Guilliman believed that he would eventually find a way to strip the Warp essence—the Divinity—that contained the concepts of "machinery" and "forging" from that demigod.

At that time, Belisarius Cawl, the vessel long "reserved" for it, whose will and path were both incomparably compatible, would inherit this Divinity...

The Imperium of Man would instantly gain a living lesser god on its own side, one who governed creation and technology!

Think about it: why had Abaddon been able to launch Black Crusades time and again?

The Gene-seed of those traitors under his command was nearly rotten, while even the elite Gene-seed of the Iron Warriors had mutated to the point of near extinction.

By the present day, ten thousand years later, they even had to steal Space Wolves Gene-seed to make up the numbers...

Just imagine a pack of Space Wolves being dragged beside a forge by those rigid Iron Warriors instructors.

Making them learn calmness, making them learn how to forge machinery.

That was simply inhuman!

All one could say was that Chaos was still too evil!

Why could the Dark Legions maintain their threat with such a low-grade method of sustaining themselves?

Wasn't it because Vashtorr, their "logistics minister," was squatting behind them?

The Dark Mechanicum continuously provided the Black Legion with superb equipment and heretical technology!

The Imperium possessed vast territory and abundant resources. Even if its efficiency was low, its overall potential was by no means comparable to those traitors cowering within the Eye of Terror.

The greatest technological gap came from the enemy possessing a Warp entity that ruled over technology.

But very soon...

Guilliman seemed to have already seen the future, and his smile became ever more unrestrained.

*This vital "creative power" should be held in our own hands.

Cawl, you had better grow quickly. The "divine throne" I have prepared for you is still warm...*

Satisfied as he sensed Cawl's completely ignited loyalty and ambition, Guilliman guided the conversation toward more practical matters.

"By the way, Cawl, I previously asked you to develop a method for enhancing existing warriors. How is the progress?"

Cawl's mechanical tentacles danced excitedly. "The project has made breakthrough progress, Lord Primarch. I have named these new warriors 'Primaris Space Marines'!"

He brought up a data slate, displaying complex anatomical diagrams:

"Building upon the original nineteen organ implantation procedures, we have successfully integrated three entirely new and more powerful Primaris organs!"