The New Caliban

Dante hovered in the void, staring blankly at everything before him.

Behind him stood ten thousand equally dazed Blood Angels.

Surrounding him were countless equally shocked Dark Angels.

Everyone stopped fighting, everyone gazed at the changing world, and everyone was speechless.

Dante lived for over a thousand years.

He had witnessed countless miracles, countless horrors, and countless indescribable sights.

He once stood in the storms of Baal, fighting the swarms of insects; he once led the Blood Angels in battles in the Imperium Nihilus; he once witnessed Guilliman's return and the glory of the Master of Mankind's return.

But he had never seen such a scene before.

A planet is being transformed right before his eyes.

It was transformed into a mechanical planet.

Although he was not a technology expert, his more than a thousand years of experience were enough for him to judge the significance of the creation before him.

Beyond the Rock.

Absolutely surpasses the Rock.

What is the Rock? It is the Dark Angels' most powerful space fortress, the Imperium's most impregnable stronghold, and the pinnacle of human engineering.

But the Rock was just a warship.

No matter how big, strong, or sturdy it is, it is still just a warship.

And what's in front of us—this is a planet.

An entire planet.

A mobile, combat-capable, and destructive mechanical planet.

Dante's lips trembled slightly.

He suddenly remembered a quote from Guilliman: "One day, I'll show those insects what a real monster is."

As he gazed at the mechanical planet taking shape before him, a thought suddenly occurred to him: If Lord Guilliman saw this, what would he say?

He'd probably say, "Holy crap, Dad's awesome."

Dante couldn't help but laugh.

That smile contained reverence, pride, and a hint of—fervor.

"By Sanguinius..."

He muttered to himself, "What kind of being are we... following...?"

No one could answer him.

Because everyone is asking the same question.

The renovation is complete.

As the last ray of golden light merged into the core of Dragon Spirit Star, as the last turret rose from the surface, as the last rune was engraved on the planet's surface—the entire battlefield erupted in a deafening roar.

"By the Emperor--!"

"What is that?!"

"Impossible--!"

"This is--this is--!"

The Dark Angels cried out in alarm.

The Blood Angels cried out in alarm.

Even the surviving Chaos Warriors cried out in alarm.

The scene before them was completely beyond their comprehension.

That was a planet.

A planet burning with golden light.

Its surface is covered with a dense array of turrets, each turret being the size of Imperium cruiser.

The turrets slowly rotated in the golden light, aiming in every possible direction, ready to spew death at any moment.

It was surrounded by countless defensive platforms, which slowly rotated under the influence of the planet's gravity, like a string of golden necklaces.

Each platform is capable of operating independently, and each platform can be derailed at any time and transformed into a warship.

Its core burns with golden flames that penetrate the earth's crust, forming countless golden patterns on the surface.

Those lines are like blood vessels, like veins, like the lifeline of this planet.

What's most striking is its shape.

That's the shape of Caliban.

It is the shape of Caliban, the once-destroyed mother planet of the lion and the holy land of the Dark Angels.

Those forests that once covered the planet have now become a massive array of turrets.

But the way the turret array was arranged was exactly the same as the forest it once was.

Those once towering mountains have now become giant engine nozzles.

But the location of the engine nozzle was exactly the same as the mountain range it once was.

Those rivers that once flowed have now become golden energy channels.

However, the direction of that energy channel completely overlaps with the former river.

This is Caliban.

This is the new Caliban.

This is the lion's home.

Lion opened his eyes.

His first impression was one of strange lightness.

That feeling of being possessed by the Emperor has disappeared.

His body was no longer on the verge of exploding from the overwhelming Psionic Energy, his consciousness was no longer shrouded in the golden light, and his soul was free.

But a faint sense of loss lingered in his heart.

The feeling was like a child who had just been held in his father's arms, and then the father let go.

He shook his head, trying to dispel that feeling.

Then, he smelled something.

The scent of trees.

That's the scent of Caliban.

It was the scent he could smell every day when he walked through the Caliban Forest ten thousand years ago.

That's the scent of ancient trees, the smell of grass and earth mixed together, the smell of home.

Lion's pupils suddenly contracted.

He suddenly turned his head and looked around.

What did he see?

He saw the forest.

An endless forest.

The trees were tall and ancient, their branches rustling gently in the breeze.

Ancient patterns were etched on their bark, patterns he knew all too well—they were unique to Caliban, a species that could not be found anywhere else in the Milky Way.

He saw the sky.

The sky was purple, tinged with the afterglow of dusk.

That's the sky over Caliban —due to the planet's unique atmospheric composition, the sky here always has that distinctive purple hue.

He saw into the distance.

In the distance, there was a massive fortress.

That was the monastery of the Dark Angels.

That was the home he built with his own hands.

That's Caliban.

Lion's body began to tremble.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out.

His eyes were a little moist.

Ten thousand years.

After ten thousand years of slumber, ten thousand years of waiting, ten thousand years—he has finally returned home.

"From this day forward, this is the new Caliban."

A voice rang out behind Lion.

The sound was majestic and grand, like the simultaneous roar of billions of stars, like the first cry at the beginning of the universe.

That voice contained supreme authority, the vicissitudes of millennia, and—a father's love for his son.

Lion turned around abruptly.

What did he see?

He saw a huge golden light and shadow.

The light and shadow hovered behind him, hundreds of meters high, almost touching the sky.

Its outline is hazy and soft, yet it contains supreme majesty.

Its face was indistinct, only its eyes—golden eyes burning with an eternal flame—pierced through all illusion, staring directly at Lion.

The Emperor manifested his divine power.

It's not possession, not a substitute fighter, not Psionic Energy projection.

It was a true, direct manifestation that transcended endless distances.

Lion's knees bent involuntarily.

He knelt down.

Kneel before that golden light and shadow, kneel before that Master of Mankind, kneel before that—Father.

"Father..."

His voice trembled, a tremor that contained reverence, longing, and a hint of—grievance.

Ten thousand years of slumber, ten thousand years of solitude, ten thousand years—he missed home so much.

The Emperor looked at him, a rare gentleness in his golden eyes.

Welcome back.

He said the voice contained boundless emotion, "My eldest son."

Lion's tears finally fell.

Those were the tears of the Primarch, the tears of the Lion, the tears of a son for his father.

"Thank you..."

His voice choked with emotion. "Thank you... for giving me a home..."