Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 241 - 242 – Plans to Clean the Webway

Eden's consciousness traveled along the newly-formed conduit linking the Ork psychic network with the Small Sun, heading into the depths of the Small Sun.

He dove deep inside, arriving at the place where faith converged.

It resembled a vast, illusory plaza filled with statues shaped by the myriad emotions and beliefs of his followers.

It was Eden's first time witnessing this "Realm of Faith," and he was stunned. "So, this is how many different forms I take in my believers' eyes?"

There were simply too many idols. Dozens—no, hundreds—scattered in various sizes.

High above the plaza hung a small golden sun, softly illuminating the space.

That was Eden's core image, his self-identification: his "true self."

Most believers who received his blessings saw him in the form of the Small Sun.

This force dominated the entire space.

Eden's consciousness wandered among the statues. Several stood out as more familiar:

A giant, nearly one hundred meters tall, wearing golden power armor, gripping a massive sword, bathed in golden sunlight—this was the most common "Savior statue," widely revered by the majority of his people.

Not far from that, the Geno-worshipping statue of the Four-Armed Savior and the newly manifested "Eden Bro" Ork statue.

Beyond those, there were countless smaller statues, representing the images held by smaller groups of believers.

For instance, the kindly old Eden statue, the pointy-eared "Life God" version, a hulking musclebound figure, a gentle "Prince" version, the "Governor" version, an "angel with wings" version, a "feminine male" version, and so forth.

Wait, Feminine male version???

Eden's face darkened. Which group among his followers had come up with that? Something in the domain's moral climate needed inspection. He'd have the Inquisition look into whether Slaanesh had infiltrated and corrupted the youth!

Suddenly, Eden noticed a region deeper in, devoid of the small sun's illumination, cloaked in darkness.

"Could that be my darker side?"

He directed his consciousness into the dark area.

At once, all light vanished, replaced by a murky, chaotic aura.

Well, that was interesting.

There were additional statues in here, likewise bearing some resemblance to Eden himself.

Directly in front of him stood a statue sporting a leather mask, clad in spiked leather, holding a barbed whip over its huge chest muscles.

That's…Slaanesh territory…

So that was the taint of Slaanesh's power.

He also saw Tzeentch's demonic form, a swirling multi-limbed idol, the rotting plague forms of Nurgle, blood-crazed icons of Khorne, and so on.

"Where do all these twisted beliefs come from?"

Eden found it puzzling. Aside from the demon Balor and the few subjugated Chaos daemons, he technically had no other Chaos-worshipping believers.

As he puzzled over it, he noticed a huge demon head in the gloom, stomped under a giant foot.

"What the…?"

Following the foot upward, he found a monstrous idol looming in the misty darkness. Broad, heavily muscled, with an evil-looking set of dark golden demonic armor, emanating faint holy light.

Drawing closer, he saw multiple Bloodletters' corpses scattered around it. Beneath its foot, a Bloodletter's head was pinned. The idol had fangs, wild black hair, and held a severed demon arm, gnawing bloodily.

It looked like a demon-slaying juggernaut terrifying enough to make Chaos tremble!

"Is that me?" Eden was speechless.

A deeper read of the aura revealed it to be a chaotic, swirling cluster of emotions and faith whose origins were impossible to pinpoint.

Eden guessed it might be an offshoot from the warp energies as well as the source of the Small Sun's devouring trait.

He worried whether this chaotic energy might affect his personality.

After all, beliefs and emotions can be medicine or poison, heavily influencing a god's psyche.

If the faith channeled by believers grows too large, it can reshape the deity's personality.

Worse, in polytheistic worship, multiple influences might even cause a split personality.

And if the newly-split personality is too powerful, it could eventually devour the original consciousness.

Hiss…

Eden drew in a sharp breath. "If I lose who I am…would I still be me?"

It was a tough question indeed.

He'd worried about that from the beginning, which was why he'd been suppressing his own divinity, keeping his main consciousness somewhat separate from the Small Sun.

Treating the Small Sun like an operable warp avatar, only connecting when necessary.

So far, the direct influence on him had stayed minimal.

He had no idea what the future might hold.

Still, the faith wasn't huge enough to threaten him, so for now, his free will remained dominant.

Though a part of this dark region seemed a bit out of his control, no actual harm had occurred yet.

That menacing statue even seemed to be holding the Chaos energies in check, so in a sense, it was beneficial.

Anyway, Eden's situation could already be called ideal in this "hellish" universe.

Even the mighty God-Emperor was perched at the edge of madness.

If He truly lost control one day, He could decide humanity's fate at a whim—either usher it into ascension or total annihilation.

Which meant Eden's existence constantly hung over a looming cataclysm.

Humans had finite lifespans—maybe a few centuries to a thousand years through advanced technology, but they'd all die eventually.

As a result, some high officials or governors in the Imperium might choose to do nothing. They only needed to maintain order for their lifetime.

But Eden, as one of humanity's only two gods, was nearly immortal.

His destiny was entwined with that of humanity, and eventually, he'd have to face existential crises like the Emperor's madness, a major Chaos invasion, or a full-scale Tyranid assault on the galaxy.

So Eden had to worry about the future.

At least, for now, there was still time.

He glanced around the darkness once more, burying his anxieties for the moment. It was time to handle present tasks.

Mastering the Webway was the key to his territory's future prosperity and humankind's broader survival.

He had to clear out the roaming daemons first.

Of course, the dangers in the Webway went well beyond random daemons: Necrons, Eldar, Drukhari, Chaos cults… countless strange threats lurked there.

To fend them off, a permanent, powerful army was needed inside the Webway.

And Orks were the perfect choice—able to adapt to the Webway environment, growing stronger through constant battle, unconcerned about losses.

It was perfect.

All he had to do was toss the Orks into the Webway, let them multiply and fight, and fill it up with Orks.

Then the Webway would be secure forever.

Returning his consciousness to the command hall, Eden glanced again at Steel-Clamp.

From its eyes, he knew he had thoroughly seized control of the Ork psychic network, becoming the warlord of this horde.

Steel-Clamp lowered its head reverently, with fear and awe. In its mind, it faced the Orks' new ruler—Eden Bro!

Eden felt quite relieved and thanked his luck.

If he'd come a month or two later, letting these Orks evolve further, the outcome would have been far from certain.

He might not have even been able to beat them.

But thanks to swift reinforcements and the unstoppable A'Rey, they'd managed to subdue the Ork settlement.

He was overjoyed. This was an enormous harvest indeed—a warband that could keep growing indefinitely!

Think about it: top Ork warlords could fight Primarchs to a standstill. One legendary Ork even almost overthrew the Emperor Himself.

With boundless numbers to match, they could go head-to-head against the endless Tyranid swarms.

Their gene code also concealed ancient tech, so they were truly frightening.

Of course, that was merely their potential upper limit.

Whether this particular horde could reach those heights depended on how they were fostered.

For now, his immediate goal was training them up enough to face the demons in the Webway.

He had two and a half years left.

If the demons weren't wiped out by then, Eden would be forced back into the Blackstone Throne, locked in place.

A luxurious life of sitting on a blackstone toilet alongside the Emperor.

Having recently witnessed the Orks in battle, Eden was confident in their ability to handle the daemon threat.

He just needed to equip them with better weapons.

That should do it!

He turned to the Ork boss. "Right then… you—uh, what's your name again?"

Steel-Clamp pointed to the giant yellowish metal pincer on its arm, deflated, leaking air through its toothless gums. "U—Urus…Steel-Clamp…"

"That name isn't fierce enough," Eden frowned. At least something like "Bone-Crusher" or something suitably savage. A more imposing name might even boost fighting spirit.

In a burst of inspiration, he offered up a new name: "Bone-Eater Steelfang!"

He glanced at Steel-Clamp, then asked, "How about it?"

Steel-Clamp gazed miserably at its missing teeth, feeling that "Eden Bro" was definitely mocking it. Yet it had no courage to refuse, mumbling, "Yes…"

Noticing the poor Ork had no teeth at all, Eden gave an awkward cough and patted it on the shoulder. "All right, from now on, you're Bone-Eater Steelfang!"

Yes, having no teeth and calling it "Steelfang" would be fine…He took out his communicator to contact the Dreamweaver's tech-priests, instructing them to design the most fearsome, over-the-top mechanical "steelfangs" for the Ork boss.

After that, noticing it was late at night, Eden allowed A'Rey and the other warriors who fought in the campaign to rest, sending them for Apothecary treatment.

As for Steelfang, the Apothecaries and local veterinarians led it away for wound inspection and dressing.

It was badly injured.

No time tonight to deal with the entire Ork settlement. Eden would get a good night's sleep and see to them in the morning.

…

Early the next day:

Sunlight streamed through the window and into Eden's room.

Rubbing his eyes, he stretched, pushing the window open for a deep breath.

Cough, cough!

Thick, chemically-laden smog choked him.

"Right, I almost forgot. This is a planet purely for mining—should've stayed on the Dreamweaver for the night."

He regretted it.

Because Kanda was a mineral-rich world, the Department of Internal Affairs had turned it into a massive open-pit mine, extracting resources with little regard for pollution, aiming to dig the place hollow as fast as possible to meet the territory's skyrocketing mineral demands.

Thankfully, with the Ork settlement in his hands, the daemons in the Webway would soon be dealt with.

After grabbing a quick bite, Eden donned his Orkish-style power armor and hurried off to find Steelfang.

He needed Steelfang to gather the entire Ork settlement, quickly.

Steelfang was stationed in a temporary tent outside the city for safety reasons.

After Eden entered, he did a double-take.

Turning to A'Rey, who was standing nearby, he asked, "Look carefully: isn't Steelfang a lot skinnier than yesterday?"

A'Rey examined it and nodded: "You're not mistaken—he's lost a fair bit of bulk, even got shorter."

Hearing that, Eden realized he hadn't been seeing things.

He knew Orks would weaken if they lost confidence, but the speed was shocking.

One single night and Steelfang had shrunk by a third!

The Ork boss stood forlorn, shoulders drooping like a dejected puppy.

Eden put a hand on its shoulder, deeply concerned. "Come on, Steelfang, snap out of it! We still need you to beat the daemons for us!"

Hearing the name "Steelfang," it seemed even more depressed.

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Even Eden's orders as "Eden Bro" did little good. It would comply, but it stayed utterly dispirited—basically "lying flat" in defeat.

Great. Steelfang had a mental breakdown after A'Rey's thrashing…

Eden had A'Rey go away for now, to avoid further traumatizing the Orks.

"Savior, we've finished forging that alloy piece you requested," two tech-priests entered, reporting on the item they had rushed to complete overnight.

They had fashioned a custom set of mechanical jaws for the Ork boss.

"Quick, put it on him!" Eden realized the missing teeth might be part of why Steelfang felt so dejected. Let's get it fixed right away.

But even after attaching those shiny steel fangs, Steelfang merely perked up a little, enough to stand and move around.

Eden decided to fly Steelfang by gunship back to the Ork settlement, along with hundreds of large transport craft. They needed the Orks' cooperation.

Inside the gunship:

Gazing down at the plains below—yesterday's battlefield—Eden observed thousands of massive construction machines rolling across the terrain, collecting the soil tainted by Ork blood and flesh.

Ordinarily, that soil would be subjected to high temperatures for sterilization, to destroy any leftover biomass and spores.

Otherwise, giant green mushrooms would sprout all across the fields before long.

Then, as time went by, countless Orks would pop up from beneath those mushrooms, unstoppable.

The Imperial method was to torch the entire area.

But Eden now possessed the Ork psychic network.

Any Ork tissue, blood, or spore clusters were highly valuable breeding material!

They mustn't be wasted.

So the Department of Military Affairs had organized teams to gather all Ork remains, including any tissue or mushroom-like fungal clusters. They'd box everything up for later use.

…

Deep in the forest, at the Ork settlement:

Eden and Steelfang disembarked from the gunship.

The camp was strangely quiet, only a few Gretchin scurrying around delivering food to the Orks.

Eden took a quick walk around and grew anxious.

All the Orks were "lying flat," uninterested in anything. They only moved if Gretchin stuck food right in their faces—otherwise they didn't bother.

Some didn't even want to lift a hand, letting the Gretchin literally feed them mouth-to-hand.

Typically, mealtime for Orks would be a rowdy affair: they'd gorge themselves, possibly eating the Gretchin in the process. Certainly not this zombielike behavior.

They were…spent. All of them!

Eden stared, feeling like the once-mighty Ork warband was slipping away.

But he consoled himself:

"They're still eating… so they can be saved."

He instructed Steelfang, "Alright, it's your turn. Get them all up!"

Waaagh!—

Steelfang roared at them.

At least the boss's voice had some effect.

Slowly, the Orks got to their feet, while the Gretchin ran around repeating the command.

After a while, the Orks began gathering. Hardly any carried weapons and all of them looked lethargic.

Sigh…

So be it. As long as they were still following orders at all, Eden could slowly rebuild.

Worst case, he'd try cultivating a new generation if they truly couldn't be saved.

Soon, the large transport craft carted the entire group of Orks away, along with the Gretchin and other sub-species from around the camp, about a million Orks altogether.

They also gathered large quantities of Ork remains, soil, fungal clusters, and mushrooms. Everything was loaded onto the ship.

Kanda's environment was harsh. Eden planned to relocate them for further study.

…

Breaking through the planet's atmosphere, the Dreamweaver soared gently upward and transitioned into warp travel, its cargo hold packed to the brim.

Their destination:

The Urth system—specifically, the Moon.

...

Urth Sanctuary. Mechanicus City, Bio-Research Institute Conference Hall.

The hall exuded a solemn, formal air. A long oval table was draped with a red brocade runner.

On the walls hung carvings of the Savior's likeness, and behind the main seat was the cogwheel emblem of the Mechanicus.

Attendees filed in one by one.

Among them were several sages in the field of biological research, a few experts on Chaos organisms, and top minds in psychic studies, plus senior instructors from the Loyal Progeny Academy.

At last, Grand Sage Moss bustled in, sitting at the head seat and placing a thermos at the table.

He would preside over today's meeting.

Once everyone was present, he took a sip from his "fuel-tea," his electronic voice cold:

"Everyone must have read the Savior's message by now. Time is so precise and precious, so I'll keep this short…"

Streamlined meetings were Eden's preference.

In comparison, the older Imperium and Mechanicus insisted on complicated protocols—like incense offerings and lengthy ritual prayers before starting.

Above Moss's seat hung a banner:

"Ork Xenos Recovery Research Discussion."

(End of Chapter)

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