---An Hour Later---
I sat in the Guild’s clinic beside my unconscious companions. When Solaris and I burst into the building with them on our backs, a crowd flocked to me for answers. Instead of wasting time, I used the Force to clear a path. The commotion brought the Guildmaster running out of his office. When he saw their pale complexions and tattered armor, the old man summoned his healers.
The women were taken to the infirmary, while Solaris and I were directed to a private room. Guild staff interrogated me using magic items that sensed deception. While no one assumed I was the culprit, policy obligated them to investigate. They confirmed my innocence within minutes and reunited me with my companions once the healers finished their work. Since then, I had been sitting among them, sketching blueprints for my power armor in a notebook.
Just as I was about to begin the wiring diagram, footsteps approached.
The Guildmaster opened the door and stepped inside. “Let me begin by apologizing for the treatment you received earlier. My staff and I knew you were innocent, but we had to treat this like any other case for the sake of fairness.”
“There is no need to apologize. You were only following protocol to protect them, and myself, from any backlash.”
“I wish more adventurers were as understanding.” The Guildmaster shut the door and took a seat opposite me. “The report says your group was attacked by an enemy from outside the dungeon. It slew the boss and its subordinates while you were in transit, then ambushed you upon arrival. Your party attempted to engage, but discovered it had anti-magic capabilities and could only be harmed by your blade. You charged in to challenge the entity, buying time for them to flee. Just before they reached the circle, the enemy lashed out with a psychic attack, leaving them in their current state.”
I nodded. While I trusted Lucoa’s colleagues, the fewer people who knew the full truth, the better.
“There is more to this story, isn’t there?” The Guildmaster leaned forward. “My gut tells me it has something to do with your unknown job or those strange abilities. From the moment we first met, I could tell you were something special. Am I right?”
I cracked a smile. “You hit the nail on the head. What I am about to show and tell you cannot leave this room under any circumstances. If you cannot agree to this, I can share nothing. It is no exaggeration to say that the fate of our world depends on keeping my secrets.”
My tone left no room for doubt. I had to protect my identity to prevent the Chaos cult from accelerating their plans.
“I understand.” The Guildmaster pulled a magic item from his coat pocket and channeled mana into it. Within seconds, an isolation barrier formed around us, sealing the sound. “Whatever you tell me, I will take to my grave.”
Satisfied, I presented my updated Guild ID. As he glanced down at it, his eyes went wide with utter disbelief.
Name: Leon Fou Aremus
Class: Primarch
Court Ranking: N/A
Noble Ranking: Honorary Baron
Level: 175/∞
Age: 16
HP: 50,000
Constitution: SSS
Charisma: SSS
Dexterity: SSS
Intelligence: SSS
Strength: SSS
Wisdom: SSS
Abilities/Powers: Force-Sensitive (Limitless Potential), Item Box (Unlimited), Magic Talent (Limitless Potential), Psyker (Limitless Potential)
Titles: Ally of Societal Outcasts, Primarch of the Second Legion, Reborn Second Son of the Emperor of Mankind
“What in the holy hell is this!?” The Guildmaster’s hands trembled as he scanned the card. “I thought your SS Rank was unbelievable before, but you have shattered everything we know. And what is a Primarch? Who is this Emperor of Mankind?!”
“It would be easier to have someone else explain.” I looked behind me. “Malcador, if you please.”
Before the Guildmaster could ask whom I was talking to, the elderly man materialized. The Guildmaster froze in fear. Even as a shell of his former self, Malcador radiated an aura of absolute power and wisdom. Once he had settled, my mentor and second father explained the situation.
---Thirty Minutes Later---
When Malcador finished detailing my origin and the dire threat facing our world, the Guildmaster sank into his seat. The revelation that daemons were methodically invading was a massive weight to process. Just as he collected his thoughts, a sudden realization struck him.
“The Chaos cultists you spoke of, you said they use ritual sacrifices to open portals to hell, right? This is not public knowledge, but over the past six weeks, the capital has seen a sharp spike in missing persons cases. The sudden increase, combined with that document you found… it sounds like they intend to act soon.”
The information sent a chill down my spine. While the noble district was well-guarded, the rest of the capital lay vulnerable. Roxanne and Yunyun’s inn, along with Wiz’s shop, sat in a shady part of town—a prime target area for the cultists. I could not in good conscience allow them to stay there any longer. With my fortune and connections, I could move them to a secure district. If I had troops to assign as bodyguards, I would do it in a heartbeat, but my hands were tied. Luxion’s fleet of drones remained occupied monitoring the Marquis’ faction and tracking the cult.
“You are worried about Miss Roxanne and Miss Yunyun, aren’t you?” The Guildmaster shot me a smug grin, sensing my thoughts. “I would remind you that your standings are too different, but you don’t care about that, do you? That said, while you could force the locals to accept your actions, will your native homeland accept it? Based on what your friend here said, they will be persecuted for not being human.”
“When my father gave me my flagship and battle fleet, military commanders berated my decision to allow Abhumans and xenos to join my crew. I paid them no mind then, and I will continue to do so now. The decision is mine. No one tells me otherwise.” I gave the Guildmaster an icy, emotionless stare. “If anyone acts on their prejudice, they will find out why my subordinates were so loyal. No matter what, I protect my own.”
A warm smile grew on Malcador’s face. While Aremus and Leon were different men, the core of who Aremus had been remained intact. Those unique qualities were exactly what the Imperium of Man needed. Their fractured galaxy needed someone who could look past the errors of the past and bring Abhumans, humans, and xenos together. Malcador had once agreed with the Emperor’s absolute viewpoint, but the civil war had changed his mind.
At the height of Horus’ bloody march across the galaxy, hushed rumors began spreading among the flood of refugees. People spoke of whole swaths of space that were being avoided by Horus’ forces. For a time, the loyalists assumed they were avoiding pockets of the cybernetic xenos Aremus had encountered decades before, but that was not it. A short time before the Siege of Terra began, surviving members of various loyalist legions brought them the truth.
Malcador placed an ethereal hand on Leon’s shoulder. ‘Those sectors Horus’ forces avoided were brought under Imperial control by you. When the people who lived in those sectors knew he was coming, they invoked the pacts you negotiated with local xenos. Instead of abandoning them, like so many did during the Old Night, they showed up in force to reinforce our defenses. When the enemy vanguard arrived, the joint defense force overwhelmed them with ferocity and firepower.’
After forcing Horus’ host to reroute, the humans and xenos began searching for survivors from neighboring sectors. The information was buried by the Emperor’s orders, but the number of people saved numbered in the trillions. Aremus had shown the compassionate side of humanity to a galaxy torn apart by war. For this reason, those who met him came to protect what he had built.
“It is no wonder you did not fit in among your kin. You are far more accepting and forward-thinking than them.” The Guildmaster patted my shoulder. “I believe your line of thinking is correct.”
With his business concluded, the Guildmaster deactivated the barrier and rose to his feet. “Well, Leon, I must get back to my office to complete the incident report. Do you intend to stay here with your comrades, or will you return to the dormitory?”
“I’ll stay here with my friends. Someone has to stick around to tell them what happened.”
The Guildmaster nodded, returning my Guild ID. He turned and exited the room, leaving Malcador, Solaris, and me in silence.
---Dawn, Next Morning---
Solaris and I returned to my room around one in the morning. The women had awakened just before midnight, and we had escorted them home after cashing in our reward. The moment I stepped into my bedroom, I collapsed onto the bed and gave my body a well-deserved rest.
Luxion floated close by, watching me perform my morning workout routine. <Master, are you certain it is wise to be up so early after such a late night?>
“As the saying goes, no rest for the weary. The Chaos cult will not wait for me to regain my full Primarch powers. I have to squeeze in as much training as I can to protect my family, friends, and the people of this world,” I said, performing my twentieth set of five hundred handstand pushups. “Moving on, have you made any progress synthesizing gasoline yet? Also, how long will it take to run the simulations on the armor I designed last night?”
Luxion flew down to look me in the eyes. <Your dedication to your duty is admirable, but you must learn to rest to prevent overexertion. Until you regain your full power, you are only a superhuman.>
I grinned. Luxion was treating me like glass, but this much would not break me. In my past life as a rocket engineer, seventy-two-hour shifts were common. If I had a deadline, I pulled out all the stops to meet it, even at the expense of my physical wellbeing.
‘Haha… okay, maybe Luxion has a point.’ I recalled the terrible headaches and neck pain. ‘Might as well schedule a date with that receptionist and take a night off.’
<To answer your questions, yes, I successfully replicated gasoline using the data you provided. As for the armor, it will take a few weeks to run the simulations and produce it. Most of my processing power is occupied controlling my drones.>
I figured he would say that, but it did not hurt to ask. Power armor was the next logical step to increase my combat capacity. If I could find the place where I died, I would take that original armor and reforge it to suit my needs. Since I died in the Warp, though, it was impossible to know where it had drifted.
<On another note, Miss Marie has fled the capital. An angry mob attempted to kill her yesterday, so she has retired to her family’s estate to wait out the storm. Should I divert drones to monitor her?>
I sprang back onto my feet and wiped the sweat from my brow. “While I would love to continue offering them aid, Angelica and company need to learn to stand on their own. We need to keep our resources focused on monitoring the Marquis’ faction and searching for the Chaos cult.”
Luxion accepted my answer, bobbing his chassis in confirmation. With my morning physical training done, I took a quick shower and brewed a cup of coffee.
“Alright, Malcador, I would like to start our first lesson now.” I placed the empty cup in the sink. “I’m heading to the palace this afternoon to meet with the Prime Minister. Since we know the cult has insider information about the goings-on there, it is safe to assume they have spies. To root them out, I must be able to detect demonic presences and minute traces of psychic energy. Is that something we can cover before my morning courses start?”
“If it is just that much, I can teach you in less than an hour.” Malcador manifested, sitting at my kitchen counter. “Beyond that, we will need to dedicate a significant amount of time to ensure you do not lose control of your power again. You may be immune to demonic incursions, but the energy can still swallow your consciousness.”
I froze. My knowledge of psyker powers was limited, but even I knew no one was immune to the corruptive nature of the Warp. In every game I played, it was a given that every psyker risked becoming a literal portal for daemons.
“Come again? Did you say I am immune to the corruptive influence of the Warp?” I gave him a confused look.
“There is no point in hiding the truth from you at this point. When your Father created you, he used Warp magic to craft functionally immortal demigods.” Malcador leaned back. “For eighteen of your brothers, the process entailed using the sealed souls of Lesser Chaos Gods. In your case, he used one of the surviving Aeldari deities. If my memory serves, it was the entity called the Starweaver.”
At the mention of that name, the only things that came to mind were the transport vessels used by the Harlequins. I knew next to nothing about the Aeldari pantheon, as they were not covered in the games I played, so I wanted to learn more. Just as I started to geek out, a troubling thought occurred to me.
“If my Father used one of their deities to create me, do I need to worry about them trying to kill me?”
Malcador shook his head. “For reasons beyond our understanding, the leader of the Harlequin faction took a liking to you. Under his instructions, the Eldar Craftworld that found you as a child spared your life and raised you as one of their own. If not for him, you would have been returned to us as a mangled corpse. Those were the exact words of the Eldar couple who raised you, not our assumption.”
“The leader of the Harlequins—do you mean Cegorach?”
“Oh, you remember his name? Yes, if that is who their leader is, then it was him.” Malcador tilted his head. “Wait, I recall hearing that name before. Is Cegorach not also known to the Eldar as the Laughing God?”
I nodded. His name was attached to the flavor text of several Harlequin items in the games; that was the only reason I knew it. If I had somehow earned his favor when I was Aremus, I hoped it would carry over into this life. The Harlequins would make one hell of a powerful ally.
“Enough talking about the past. Let us get started on your training.” Malcador rose to his feet. “Are you ready?”
“Of course.”
With that, I spent the next two hours soaking up as much information as Malcador could confer.
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