How did I become an Astartes?

"Hahaha, the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier has launched! From now on, nobody gets to raise their voice at us again..."

Zhou Evan was celebrating with his college roommates. For a bunch of military enthusiasts, the arrival of the navy's latest heavy hitter was more than enough to send the entire dorm into a frenzy.

"I'm telling you, there's no way this new carrier has the officially announced displacement of a hundred thousand tonnes. Look at this photo-look how deep she sits in the water. Add all the equipment they haven't installed yet, and the finished ship has to be at least a hundred and forty thousand tonnes." Lin Xiuhao loudly offered his opinion. As the dorm's acknowledged naval expert, he had the most authority on the subject.

"Exactly. Didn't the official announcement say over a hundred thousand tonnes? Fifty thousand over isn't unreasonable." Yang Song joined the discussion while playing a shooter.

"You're still messing around with that squirt gun? We're talking carrier aircraft and aircraft carriers now. Could your little gun stop even one missile?" As a seasoned strategy gamer, Zhou Evan had little regard for shooters that only let people charge into battle.

"What do you know? You don't even play. Someone like you could never understand the thrill of charging through gunfire. That's a man's idea of romance."

"Bullshit. Giant steel warships are a man's idea of romance." Lin Xiuhao waved his phone, its wallpaper already changed to the latest aircraft carrier.

The three bickered noisily. Yang Song preferred playing warriors who charged into the thick of battle, while Lin Xiuhao liked driving tanks across open terrain. Zhou Evan had his own distinctive ideas about strategy games. They argued about it constantly, and since they played different games, they rarely teamed up.

Recently, however, Yang Song had become obsessed with a game called Warhammer 40K. Late at night, he often told his buddies about its vast setting. The other two didn't mind; they treated it as a bedtime story.

Before they knew it, it was noon.

Just as they were discussing what to have for lunch, an advertisement arrived on Yang Song's phone.

"Guys, look! They're selling models of the new carrier here. Limited editions!" Yang Song cried in surprise. The other two quickly crowded around him. An official advertisement was open on his phone, and the imposing, exquisitely detailed model instantly captured all three of their hearts.

"My God, look at those carrier aircraft. They're so detailed! And that radar-it looks real."

"They say it's the best of the best. Look, that's the official logo."

"We have to get one, don't we? Where are they selling it?"

"Let me check. There's a sales outlet just two kilometers away. Only 158 yuan."

"That cheap? Fine, I'll skip braised chicken for lunch for ten straight days. Come on, we have to get it. Move! Show me the speed you usually bring to the cafeteria."

"Guys, same rules as always?"

Yang Song pulled out his campus card. "Whoever the head points toward goes to buy it. No backing out."

The campus card spun through the air and landed, its portrait pointing squarely at Zhou Evan.

It was golden autumn. Maple trees lined the road, their fallen leaves dancing in the air. Occasionally, a leaf favored by the goddess of luck would become someone's bookmark, commemorating some unknown person's vanished youth.

Zhou Evan hurried along the road, paying no attention to the people coming and going. His mind was fixed on the mission entrusted to him by the entire dorm: bring back the new aircraft carrier model. What he failed to notice was the wind slowly picking up, and the falling maple leaves beginning to swirl around him.

Suddenly, Zhou Evan stepped into empty air, and a sensation of weightlessness followed.

Zhou Evan's first reaction was, Fuck, what inconsiderate bastard stole the manhole cover?

His second was, What kind of sewer is this? Did they install lights down here? Why is it so bright?

Then he lost consciousness completely.

Inside a large room filled with mechanical tanks and unidentified pipes, the floor and black metal walls were engraved with all manner of patterns and blessings. An Astartes warrior in white Power Armour inspected the metal tanks.

Suddenly, he stopped before one tank, carefully examined the readings on the display at its front, then nodded and pressed a red button.

As the sound of draining water gradually faded, the mechanical tank slowly opened. A Bioman who had undergone twenty-two specialized biotechnological modifications—a super-soldier recruit known to ordinary humans as a Primaris Space Marine, also called a Primaris Astartes—tumbled out of the tank and hit the floor hard.

(In official lore, the first batch of Primaris Astartes deployed in battle were called the "Firstborn," while ordinary Astartes surgically converted into Primaris Astartes were called the "Ascended." The official text says the Ascended have an even lower success rate than the Firstborn, so I'll assume they have the technology to create Primaris Astartes directly.)

"Welcome to the Chapter, brother."

Evan opened his eyes groggily. Before him stood an Astartes warrior wearing white Mark VII Power Armour.

Fuck. The Warhammer 40K universe. Zhou Evan was utterly stunned. One slip? One blink? And he was in another world? Who would believe that? What happened to going to heaven or hell? No, wait-this place was no different from hell...

As a staunch materialist, he had to accept reality without reservation and apply scientific thinking. Figuring out how he had arrived and how to get back was the right approach. If he worked it out, surely that would earn him a place in the academy of sciences?

While Zhou Evan stood there in a daze, the super-soldier in Power Armour had already approached him.

"What's wrong, brother? Does anything feel abnormal?"

"No, instructor. The Emperor protects." Zhou Evan himself froze. It seemed his body had spoken those words on its own.

It felt like a conditioned reflex.

Before Zhou Evan could think it through, the Astartes' voice rang out like a great bell.

"Don't call me instructor, recruit brother. I am Chief Apothecary Risgen. Just call me Chief Apothecary."

"Yes, Chief Apothecary."

"Follow the Servitor for a physical examination. We'll check your exact physical readings."

With that, Chief Apothecary Risgen casually beckoned. The mechanical door behind him rumbled open, revealing a Servitor. In essence, this was a human who had undergone a degree of mechanical modification, with an enhanced body and brain surgery to control their thoughts. Servitors generally served as low-ranking attendants to the Astartes.

That Servitor is so small. No, I'm huge. Zhou Evan suddenly remembered that most Astartes stood around two and a half meters tall. In other words, the Servitor was normal-sized.

Opening his eyes to the oversized machinery designed for Astartes had given Zhou Evan the illusion that this was a normal environment. He soon corrected his perception, however. Thanks to their comprehensive biological enhancements, Astartes had vastly improved strength, reaction speed, adaptability, resilience, and even lifespan.

I just got here. I don't know the place. Better do what the Chief Apothecary says. Zhou Evan had already silently designated his arrival from another world as his greatest secret, resolving to bury it in the deepest recesses of his heart.

But once he stood fully upright, he realized that he seemed much taller than even the Chief Apothecary. If the Chief Apothecary was two and a half meters tall, he might be three meters.

Zhou Evan reached the Mechanical Door and glanced back at the Chief Apothecary, who had already resumed inspecting the tanks.

Credit where it's due, that white Power Armour really does look cool, Zhou Evan thought, without slowing his steps.

He followed the route to an enormous machine. At once, Evan noticed a strange person sitting behind it. Unlike the Servitor, this person was quite large. Even if they didn't match an Astartes in size, they were probably around two point two meters tall. Their mechanical modifications were not obvious; aside from a few mechanical openings, there were almost no visible signs of enhancement.

"Honored Astartes, this is the examination apparatus. Do you see that silver-gray tubular device? Simply lie down on the bed in front of it."

"All right. Thank you." Zhou Evan had spotted the machine long ago. He had barely emerged from one tank, only to climb into another.

He lay down comfortably... The apparatus was a little short, fitting Evan's entire body only just. The silver-gray machine began operating, its crackling electrical noises distinctly unpleasant.

The machine slowly slid him into the metal tank. With a click, the apparatus sealed shut. Green light rose around Zhou Evan, and powerful energy swept across his body.

Suddenly, it felt as though a heavy hammer had slammed into Zhou Evan's brain. An ocean of knowledge seemed to emerge from the void, forcing its way brutally into his mind.

He seemed to dream a long, long dream, as though he had stood for ages beside the river of history, quietly watching the fish within it churn and leap.

He saw humanity discover the Warp as it continued to develop-a place without time or space.

Humanity built warships capable of traveling through the Warp, expanding ever farther among the stars. Technology advanced rapidly, and humanity entered the Dark Age of Technology.

He saw artificial intelligence betray humanity and launch a great rebellion. Humanity won the war with great difficulty, but the Dark Age of Technology inevitably declined.

He saw the Aeldari become the overlords of the galaxy. Once invincible, their endless indulgence in desire began to give birth to the dark god Slaanesh. The vast storms this caused raged through the Warp.

At the time, no one knew that terrifying enemies lurked within the Warp.

The dark god Khorne, who held dominion over courage, slaughter, fire, honor...

The dark god Tzeentch, who held dominion over wisdom, fate, schemes, knowledge...

The dark god Nurgle, who held dominion over life, decay, plague, despair...

The dark god Slaanesh, who held dominion over depravity, desire, art, indulgence...

And other lesser powers, all competing for strength.

Humanity's Warp routes and Warp communications were severed. Human colonies scattered across the universe descended into technological regression and internal strife. The Dark Age of Technology, which had yet to recover its strength, came to a definitive end.

He saw humanity discover exceptional humans who could resonate with the Warp and draw on its energy, known as "Psykers." No one knew when they had first appeared. Or perhaps they had emerged long before, called "Shamans" in ancient times?

Ancient history had vanished forever amid the turmoil of darkness.

He saw humanity's greatest Psyker, the mighty Emperor, create the powerful Bioman Thunder Warriors in 30K and unify Terra (Earth). He created twenty Astartes Primarchs and the Legiones Astartes to fight for him.

He saw the Primarchs swept away by a Warp explosion and scattered across the universe. On his journey to unify the galaxy, the Emperor led twenty Legions into battle while recovering the Primarchs one by one. He reached an agreement with the Adeptus Mechanicus, rulers of the Forge Worlds led by Mars: the Adeptus Mechanicus would supply weapons, and the Emperor would refrain from making enemies of them and help them gather technological relics from the Dark Age of Technology.

He saw the Emperor conquer most of the galaxy, only for his most trusted Primarch, Horus, to betray him and turn to the four mightiest dark gods, formed from countless emotional forces within the Warp.

Their power came from the emotions of intelligent beings throughout the galaxy. As long as even one living creature remained in the galaxy, they would be undying and indestructible.

Driven by instinct, they spread the emotions over which they held dominion, corrupting beings in the material world into their "emissaries."

The Emperor fought a bitter war against the rebels and killed Horus aboard his warship. In the end, grievously wounded, the Emperor took his seat upon the Golden Throne, becoming a living corpse unable to speak or move.

He saw Guilliman, Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion, write the Codex Astartes. Each Space Marine Chapter could have only a thousand combat personnel, preventing another mass betrayal of comparable strength. Guilliman then administered the Imperium's affairs, but he too suffered grievous wounds in battle and entered a Stasis Field. The Imperium of Man ultimately came under human administration.

He saw humanity abandon the Imperial Truth of "believing in science" and instead worship the Emperor as a god. Afraid of repeating past mistakes, the Adeptus Mechanicus dared not innovate and turned instead to searching for lost technology. Humanity stumbled onward for another ten thousand years.

He saw all manner of enemies of the Imperium of Man: Astartes who had betrayed the Imperium for Chaos; the Aeldari, a fleet-based civilization with exceptionally advanced technology but a sparse population; Orks, with extraordinary powers of survival, reproduction, and psychic ability; the Necrons, an ancient civilization that had fallen asleep after ascending into mechanical forms; the Tyranids, devouring everything from beyond the galaxy; the emerging alien race known as the "T'au"; and more. The entire galaxy wailed amid the flames of war.

Zhou Evan was fighting. His soul struggled against the vast history and pure faith in the Emperor. With barely twenty years of memories, he fought against 40K—forty thousand years of sweeping history.

I'm a staunch materialist! I don't worship any gods or demons. Nobles, dark gods, aliens—they can all go to hell! They're just enemies, aren't they? If talking doesn't work, we fight. If the Imperial system can't save humanity, then let communism do it. Protect humanity, protect the people! The Astartes were created to protect humanity, and they will sacrifice themselves to protect humanity. Let the Crimson Tide sweep across the galaxy!

Zhou Evan awoke. He was slowly emerging from the metal tank, and the voices of Chief Apothecary Risgen and the attendant came from beside him.

"Are you certain there's nothing wrong with the apparatus? Such intense fluctuations in his brain are clearly abnormal. Did you really inspect the valve-chain coils?"

"Chief Apothecary, I'm certain I checked them. I inspected everything after the previous recruit completed the examination. There was definitely nothing wrong."

"Then that doesn't make sense. All his readings are normal, except for his brain activity. This is definitely not a manifestation of psychic power. His height isn't quite normal either. He's almost as tall as the Adeptus Custodes..."

The Chief Apothecary saw Zhou Evan emerge and gave him a suspicious look.

"Recruit, do you feel any discomfort?"

"No. Everything is completely normal, Chief Apothecary."

Only a few minutes had passed, and Zhou Evan already had another secret to seal away forever.

What the hell was that? I've just crossed over, and this world already wants to show me its hospitality? My head nearly exploded.

"Come back here for another examination in a couple of days. Now, for your first and last privilege as an Astartes: choose your name."

"My name?"

"What, do you still remember your original name?" In theory, Astartes enhancements preserved their previous memories, but for some unknown reason, the improved Primaris Astartes procedure seemed to have lost that feature.

"No, Chief Apothecary. May I call myself Evan?"

"Hmm. Yes. There's a certain ancient Terran flavor to it. Here's your report. Take it and go. Follow the passage ahead, and you'll meet the captain of your recruit company." The Chief Apothecary glanced once more at Zhou Evan's departing back.

This lad is interesting. A possible Librarian candidate? An aptitude for ancient Terran culture? That doesn't add up. Before his enhancement, he was just a student at an ordinary school on a colony far from Terra. The Chief Apothecary did not linger long, turning instead to inspect the "possibly faulty" examination apparatus.

After rounding a corner, Zhou Evan began reading his examination report. It was written in ancient High Gothic from Terra. Fortunately, the knowledge transfer that had almost exploded his head had also subtly implanted the language system.

Primaris Space Marine: Evan

Height: 3.01 meters

Weight: 396 kilograms

Gene-seed: functioning normally

Black Carapace: implanted

Poison glands: normal

...

Well, damn. I'm a Primaris Space Marine. This was an enhanced version of a Space Marine, with three more surgical modifications than an ordinary warrior. One of those even shared some of the modifications used in the Primarchs. They were bigger, stronger, and more resistant to the corruption of the Warp than ordinary warriors.

Three meters tall. That seems tall even for a Primaris Space Marine. Could this be Gene-seed from the Salamanders Chapter? Judging by the scars on the Chief Apothecary's face, though, this should be a White Scars successor Chapter.

Zhou Evan concluded that this was not merely Warhammer World, but its most perilous era: 42K. Otherwise, technology such as Primaris Space Marines would not exist. That meant Guilliman, Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion and acknowledged Lord Regent of the Imperium of Man, had emerged from his Stasis Field and resumed leading the Imperium of Man in the Armour of Fate.

What did that mean? It meant those incompetent High Lords of the Imperium of Man finally weren't in charge anymore! The Astartes had the strongest possible support within the highest governing body. The return of the author of the Codex Astartes meant that, under exceptional circumstances, they could apply directly to Guilliman for special measures instead of rigidly clinging to convention. If there was room to negotiate, things could get done.

Zhou Evan grew optimistic. Perhaps the road ahead would not be so difficult. Humanity finally had a glimmer of dawn in the darkness. The mighty Emperor still sat upon the Golden Throne as a living corpse, but the return of his finest son, Guilliman, could once again focus humanity's faith on a tangible figure. As long as he did not fall, humanity's will would not be defeated.

The blows that followed, however, would teach him that he was thinking far too simply.

Evan continued onward, passing through the final mechanical door.

A vast space opened before his eyes. The enormous training ground contained shooting ranges for various firearms and square fighting platforms. Numerous strange mechanical creations were parked along its edges.

Directly ahead was a huge Imperial Aquila emblem. Beneath it, "Green Templars" was written in large letters, followed by records of the Chapter's history. A vast portrait of the Emperor occupied the left wall, while the right wall bore a portrait of Jaghatai Khan, Primarch of the Green Templars.

Every Astartes—a Bioman super-soldier—was modified using the genetic template of one of the original twenty Primarchs personally created by the Emperor.

What surprised Evan, however, was that his Chapter, the Green Templars, was actually a successor of the Fifth Legion, the White Scars. They were geniuses at small-unit raiding warfare who spent every day thinking about racing around. That hardly fit the name Green Templars.

Perhaps it had something to do with their Primarch growing up on a world called Chogoris, with its fertile grasslands and beautiful white mountains.

Standing in the enormous training ground with no one around him, Evan wandered about in confusion until he raised his head.

A vast observation window looking out onto the stars replaced the entire ceiling of the training ground. A dark band stretched across space, with glittering stars scattered on either side.

The stars were not fixed in place. They were moving rapidly-or rather, was I moving rapidly?

What? I'm aboard a warship? Or rather, this is the Green Templars' flagship?

Powerful Space Marine Chapters, or Chapters reorganized from the original twenty Legions, all possessed their own homeworlds as recruiting grounds and primary sources of resources.

Successor Chapters founded later were not so fortunate. Unless they had earned the tremendous distinction of saving an entire planet, they were generally fleet-based Chapters that used a warship as their home vessel.

Judging by the fact that his own enhancement had been completed aboard a ship, the Green Templars were most likely a fleet-based Chapter.

Now here's the problem: where is everyone? On a warship this damn big, where are all the people?

Wasn't I supposed to meet the recruit instructor if I just kept walking? I've reached the end, and there isn't a single person here. Don't tell me it's going to be like those novels, where the instructor ambushes you from the shadows, you fight back and hold your own, then he praises your potential and starts your training?

A rumbling came from beneath the floor, and the entire floor began to shake.

Evan was bewildered. "What's going on? Are we under attack?"