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Traveling aboard his private ship, Guilliman quickly made his way from Macragge to nearby Mustafar, accompanied by Lady Yuttan and the Victorious Army.

"Those are... mining ships?"

The Primarch's eyesight was exceptional. He narrowed his eyes slightly as light streamed through the portholes into the cabin, illuminating small craft moving through the asteroid belt in orderly formations like marching ants.

Compared to the warship carrying the Primarch, they were far smaller even than transport vessels.

There were an enormous number of them. Nearly every larger asteroid and celestial body in the belt had a corresponding number of mining ships around it.

Their bows emitted faint white beams that could pulverize the hard outer rock layers of celestial bodies in an extremely short time, even metal shells.

Once the outer obstacles had been cleared away, the small ships plunged headfirst into the asteroids. Guilliman guessed that they were devouring the asteroids' material before carrying it back to the forge world.

As a Primarch, Guilliman could not help imagining what it would look like if a space battleship were surrounded by these tiny mining ships.

Like a great whale being hunted by ferocious sharks, their disintegration beams could easily tear apart a warship's armor and hull, while their slow-moving bodies might even pass through void shield defenses.

"What are they called? Their model? Their capabilities? Who made them?"

Auguston had clearly recognized the value of such wolf-pack tactics as well. Yet he stared at the ships' designations in confusion; apart from a string of numbers, there was nothing to indicate their origin.

That was highly unusual. As Macragge's field commander, Auguston was the highest military commander whenever the Primarch and Gage were absent. He ought to have known the details of every military and civilian ship and vehicle, lest they miss an opportunity during war.

"Is this related to Mustafar's transformation?" Though Lady Yuttan was not versed in military affairs, she keenly noticed the differences in these vessels.

This did not seem like the work of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Their ships bore unmistakable religious motifs—massive Gothic structures and human skulls—while these vessels had none of that.

They had been created solely for mining, with no redundant components whatsoever.

Simple, efficient, direct.

"Yes. I left behind a key piece there, one that can break through the Five Hundred Worlds' current predicament."

Before the ship had even reached Mustafar's low orbit, a communications signal connected to the Primarch's vessel.

"Welcome, everyone."

Lox's image appeared in the holographic projection. He waved, seemingly shutting down the newly established low-orbit defense system.

Mustafar did not yet possess a ring-like orbital structure, but it still had quite a few aircraft. They shared the same refined, minimalist style, and their unfamiliar shapes made it impossible to tell what they were meant to do.

Yet by instinct alone, Guilliman was certain they were anything but harmless. Their deterrent power might even surpass his expectations.

After they broke through the atmosphere, everything became clear. Blue skies and white clouds made it seem as though they had returned to scenic Macragge, except the name of this planet still flashed across the ship's screens.

The planet had become astonishingly flat. The towering mountain ranges and enormous pits left behind by past mining operations had vanished.

The endless flatlands were covered in metal. Countless power stations glimmered, while dense cables and energy pipelines carried nutrients to every corner like blood vessels.

The towering technology centers were especially eye-catching. Their pointed antennae seemed to emit arcs of electricity that reacted with charged particles in the atmosphere, casting beautiful beams of light.

This was Mustafar? That barren death world?

Only a few weeks had passed, yet a dead world had already been restored to life?

Guilliman immediately felt that Hill had been right to ask him to come in person. Too many things could not be described in a written report.

Guilliman had been to Mars. It was an incomparably prosperous and advanced red planet, but one that felt diseased.

It was covered in labyrinthine artificial megastructures, many of them relics from before the Age of Strife.

Countless ships came and went, taking away products and bringing in raw materials, but it lacked the vitality of this place.

The ship landed at a reserved ground port. By the time Guilliman and his entourage disembarked, Lox was already waiting for them below.

He had originally been too lazy to go through such a conventional ceremonial process, but considering that the war base still needed to obtain enormous quantities of resources from the Five Hundred Worlds, he decided to make the trip himself.

There was no downside to building a good relationship with Guilliman.

"Well? You gave me a ruined death world, and I'll give you a city of technology that will surpass Mars in the future. Welcome to Mustafar."

Lox shook Guilliman's hand. Though his palm could only clasp one of the Primarch's fingers, it was still a necessary courtesy.

"And this is?"

He noticed a woman with a distinctive bearing standing beside the Primarch. Guilliman had just been about to introduce her when the Mistress of the Household interrupted him.

"Tarasha Yuttan. A pleasure to meet you." Her response was composed and impeccably elegant.

Lady Yuttan did not flaunt her status. Instead, she met Lox with great warmth.

Her sharp political instincts told her that the man before her was important. This very young-looking man was quite extraordinary.

He possessed an unhurried, unflappable presence, a temperament that only appeared in those who were powerful in some regard.

He might have the potential to become Guilliman's ally.

Every creation moving around them revealed technology unlike anything from this era, the gap as obvious as that between the Industrial Age and the Bronze Age.

Without question, everything on this planet was providing powerful support to the Five Hundred Worlds.

Whether as the Mistress of Ultramar's Household or as the Primarch's adoptive mother, Lady Yuttan believed it was very necessary to win over this exceptional man.

Guilliman's adoptive mother? Now that was a rare thing, Lox thought.

According to the intelligence reports he had read, among the Primarchs who had returned to the Imperium, even those with adoptive fathers were rare. A Primarch with a mother was likely something Guilliman alone possessed.

Having lived for far too long, Lox deeply doubted the mental and psychological state of these Primarchs.

Experience had taught him that no matter how extraordinary a being was, as long as he was human and possessed humanity, he would inevitably be influenced by his parents.

And Primarchs without parents—who knew what they would grow into?

"A pleasure to meet you, my lady." Lox shook her hand amiably.

"I had Hill notify you to come because there are some matters I wish to discuss with you." Lox led Guilliman and the others down a broad passage toward the heart of the base, getting straight to the point.

"Is there a problem?" Guilliman wore his masterfully crafted power armor. At Lady Yuttan's insistence, he had to remain armored at all times in case anything unforeseen happened.

"Regarding those weapons and war vehicles, my database contains many immensely powerful weapons. But after considering the matter, I do not intend to hand them over to you."

Following Guilliman's request, Lox would recreate some lost technologies recorded in STC templates, with the priority being the production of powerful weapons capable of defending the Five Hundred Worlds.

But this was where Lox faced a dilemma. What exactly counted as powerful?

Was it the forbidden warhead stored in the database that could create artificial singularities and suck everything within range into the void? Or was it the super-energy wave annihilation device that harnessed psychic power and used Alpha-level Psykers as batteries?

Those weapons were far too dangerous, and most of them were tied to artificial intelligence, making them unsuitable for the present-day Imperium.

A simple accident could cause those weapons to send the Imperium's own forces skyward first, which would undoubtedly run counter to their original purpose.

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