Flagship of the Eleventh Legion
The Logical Dominion.
While Lorgar and Anastasia planned their operation aboard the Law of Faith, a silent yet far-reaching upheaval was quietly unfolding in a distant Star Cluster.
After his "recuperation" and initial "adaptation" deep within the Imperial Palace, Alan Turing embarked on the voyage back to his Legion.
According to the records, his health had been restored. It was time for him to resume command of his gene-sons and guide the Legion back into the great tide of the Great Crusade.
When Turing's dedicated shuttle docked with the Logical Dominion, the entire Eleventh Legion was enveloped in an atmosphere of reverence, anticipation, and lingering anxiety.
The warriors stood in orderly formations, watching their Gene-Father pass through the solemn Docking Corridor.
He looked different from before. The horrifying mechanical half of his body had been removed, replaced by exquisitely crafted Artificer Armour prosthetic components whose flowing lines suited Imperial aesthetics and function, supporting and protecting his mutilated body.
His face remained handsome, but deep within his dark brown eye seemed to linger an indescribable weariness and emptiness. His other eye was a brand-new mechanical prosthesis that gleamed with a cool blue light, replacing the red sensor once linked to Silverheart.
Even now, however, his steps were still somewhat stiff. Turing was still adjusting to his new balance.
Acting Legion Commander Maccabeus led the senior command staff in waiting respectfully at the end of the corridor.
When Turing reached him, Maccabeus knelt on one knee and bowed his head. "Welcome home, Father. Your sons stand ready to serve you at all times."
Turing stopped and looked down at Maccabeus.
After a brief silence, he spoke slowly. "Rise, Maccabeus. Thank you for your efforts during my absence."
Maccabeus rose and lifted his head, meeting Turing's gaze. In