Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 320 - 321 – Dig Out the Necrons!

Several days later.

Void space.

Buzz—

A ripple in the void.

The Dreamweaver emerged slowly from the Warp corridor.

On the bridge, Eden looked out at the yellowish planet circled by two faintly green satellites—he had arrived at the home of the Blood Angels: Baal.

The Baal system was extremely small, consisting only of the main planet Baal and two moons, located in the Baal star system within the Ultima Segmentum.

Baal itself was a dry, storm-ridden desert world, filled with all manner of mutants, abhumans, and feral creatures.

In comparison, its moons—Baal Primus and Baal Secundus—were slightly more habitable for humans, though still officially categorized by the Imperium as feral worlds.

Yet the Blood Angels had chosen Baal as their homeworld.

Eden flipped through the Blood Angels' data.

He understood, to an extent, their decision.

Much like Danus, harsher environments often forged stronger warriors.

Human tribes on Baal lived nomadic lives, constantly facing deadly threats, honing their bodies and wills to survive the unforgiving land.

From the age of Sanguinius until now, the Blood Angels had always recruited from the so-called "Blood Tribes."

Each generation, young men from all Blood Tribes participated in the Blood Angels' Great Trial.

Contestants had to trek on foot across deserts infested with mutants and irradiated zones to reach a cliffside location known as the "Place of Angels."

There, they would leap from the towering cliffs with gliders made of leather and vines—Angel Wings.

Survive that, and they still had to battle massive fire-scorpions and bloodsuckers in a deadly gorge.

If they emerged alive, stepping over the bones of countless fallen comrades, they reached the final test:

A gladiatorial arena where they would fight to the death. Only the strongest warriors would survive.

About fifty victors would board the mythical "Chariot of the Heavens"—actually a Thunderhawk gunship.

Those who survived but were deemed unworthy either stayed behind to guard the trial grounds or returned to their tribes—on foot, at their own expense.

The fifty victors were brought to the Blood Angels' monastery at the heart of Baal's desert to become aspirants.

These aspirants bore the scars of harsh living: stunted growth, malnourishment, bowed spines, and early symptoms of radiation sickness and cancer.

"…I take back my earlier understanding."

At this point, Eden winced. Compared to Danus, Baal was far too extreme.

This made him feel like he'd been far too kind.

Clearly, this method of selection was anything but scientific.

The only reason the aspirants survived their shortcomings was due to the Blood Angels' gene-seed's incredible adaptability.

Records showed that before their transformation, aspirants spent the night in the monastery cathedral without rest.

Fall asleep, and no matter how talented you were—you were taken away.

What happened to those taken away? No record remained.

Those who endured would be handed the Crimson Chalice by the Sanguinary Priests, filled with a blood-like fluid.

After drinking, they would fall into deep slumber, their hearts nearly ceasing to beat.

Servitors pushed the sleeping aspirants into surgical chambers, where gene-seeds were implanted.

Those who survived rejection were sealed in tall golden sarcophagi, nourished intravenously with a blend of nutrients and the Blood of Sanguinius.

Further transformation began.

Many died under the physical strain of bio-remolding, but those who survived were reborn.

Gone were their hunched, stunted forms—they emerged tall, sharp-eyed like predators, with smooth skin, handsome faces, and hidden fangs.

They were statuesque in beauty—like masterpieces carved by a divine hand.

"As expected of Sanguinius' sons… they're built different. No wonder these aspirants risk death for a chance to be reborn."

Eden sighed.

But every gift of fate comes at a steep, hidden cost.

The transformed Blood Angels bore the Red Thirst—a craving for human blood.

Not physiological, but psychic and spiritual.

When denied blood for long, they became weak, aged, and mentally exhausted.

To maintain themselves, they carried bottles of human blood mixed with wine—Karash.

Usually donated willingly by blood servants.

But in extreme cases, even with plenty of bottled blood, they could lose control—killing allies to sate their thirst.

Worse came after Sanguinius' brutal death at Horus' hands.

The Blood Angels developed a deeper curse: the Black Rage.

In the heat of battle, it consumed them—turning them into berserkers who couldn't distinguish friend from foe, often killing their own brothers.

A tragedy for the Chapter. A threat to the Imperium.

Eden came here to see Chapter Master Dante—to see if the Red Thirst and Black Rage could be resolved.

It would benefit everyone.

After all, nobody liked being stabbed in the back mid-battle.

Moreover, if the Tyranids could be handled, he'd bring in his environmental engineering teams to work with the Baal system.

Using Golden Age tech, they could terraform Baal's harsh worlds—give the tribes better living conditions, improving the health of future aspirants.

Fewer unnecessary deaths.

Better physiques might even lead to stronger Astartes post-transformation.

Of course, these plans required full scientific evaluation and the Blood Angels' consent.

Once the Dreamweaver stabilized in high orbit, it sent a message to the Blood Angels.

Just as Eden was preparing to board a lander and meet Dante at the monastery—

He received a message that shattered his plans.

Dante wasn't on Baal.

He had already led the Blood Angels to the Cryptus System to confront the Tyranids.

???

Eden was stunned.

That meant the Tyranids had already invaded Cryptus, about to launch a full assault!

So soon?

This was over six months earlier than the Departmento Munitorum had projected.

Then more data arrived.

It turned out—time dilation across different systems caused the mismatch.

Different temporal flows had distorted the projected invasion window.

Even Eden's early warnings to Terra only gave the High Lords a little more time to argue.

Now, the Tyranid swarms were already breaching Cryptus' outer defenses.

Luckily, thanks to Eden's influence, the Imperium had managed to deploy reinforcements.

The Blood Angels were en route.

It wasn't a total disaster.

The Imperium had pulled every available unit:

Admiral Jatus with a fleet of hundreds of warships and battlegroups.

General Meron with 30 million Astra Militarum troops, including Cadia Shock Troops and Vostroyan Firstborn armored regiments.

They would fortify Cryptus.

Some of the finest forces the Imperium could muster.

But it still wasn't enough.

The bulk of the fighting would fall to Eden's Savior Forces and the Blood Angels.

Fortunately, Big Barrel and the Sons of Man were already stationed in Cryptus.

They had received their battleships and gear and dispatched scout ships to assess the swarm.

Eden's realm had also located the Webway exit in Cryptus, organizing troops to move through it.

Thanks to Webway speed, they wouldn't miss the fight.

Everything was in motion.

But then Eden saw the latest intel from Big Barrel—and was deeply disturbed.

On the bridge, Eden and his War Council stared at the projected image of Hive Fleet Leviathan.

And were struck dumb.

Even fear began to creep in.

The Tyranids… were too massive.

A sea of bio-ships vast enough to flood an entire star system.

According to calculations—

Even if they threw every Imperial reinforcement, the Blood Angels, and Eden's own Savior army into the grinder—

They still couldn't stop it.

That was the nature of the Hive Fleet.

It made no pretense—simply devoured everything in its path.

Even forewarning was useless—sheer numbers overwhelmed all.

Eden stared at the projection, brows furrowed.

This couldn't be fought with ships.

It would take planetary or even system-level superweapons.

But his domain's tech wasn't there yet.

They had only begun constructing planetary-scale weapons—mostly Ork-derived battle satellites—and they weren't ready.

They wouldn't be finished in time for Cryptus.

"…Our war plan needs revision."

He raised his hand and pulled up the Cryptus star map.

He had to fully understand the defense layout.

Aside from Imperial and Blood Angels reinforcements and Eden's own fleets, Cryptus was already a well-fortified shield system.

Its outer perimeter was a massive glacier asteroid belt known as the Adamantine Ring.

An impenetrable natural barrier.

Inside that lay the Warden's Girdle—a rich ore field of hollowed-out asteroids.

The Astra Militarum was deploying minefields, space lance batteries, and macro-cannon platforms there.

It would be a second line of extermination.

Beyond that, several key planets would bear the brunt of the assault.

Lycios and Erynes' Bloom were the first.

Lycios, a nomadic world, housed 10,000 Battle Sisters and over 300 million nomads, supported by Imperial troops.

Erynes' Bloom was defended by Cadia Shock Troopers, a portion of the Vostroyan armored regiment, and local PDF.

These two would face the first wave.

Beyond them—

There was nothing.

Eden stared at the data, face darkening.

So if those two worlds fell, the Tyranids could sweep through the system?

No wonder Cryptus fell in the lore.

The disparity was overwhelming.

Eden could already predict what the Imperium would do next—

The Exterminatus.

If it can't be defended—

Then destroy it all. Scorched Earth.

Starve the Hive Fleet by annihilating all biomass.

The Imperium had previously destroyed over 200 planets to beat the Hive Mind.

A classic Imperial victory.

As long as the victims didn't die to the Tyranids—it was considered a win.

Cruel, but necessary.

Still, Eden sighed.

Luckily, his presence—the Savior—had changed the game.

He couldn't solo Hive Fleet Leviathan.

Tyranids were the most powerful known species, and Leviathan was the largest swarm in history.

He wasn't about to throw all his troops into the meat grinder either.

That'd bankrupt him.

But he had an ace up his sleeve.

He zoomed in on the star map.

An eight-faceted mechanical platform appeared—the Grand Prism.

A massive machine the size of a small moon, it provided limitless energy to Cryptus residents.

But few knew—

It was a Necron-built stellar generator core.

And a system-scale superweapon.

It could draw energy from Cryptus' three stars, focus it, and unleash devastating thermal beams.

If aimed at a gas giant—it could detonate the planet, obliterating the entire system.

Eden stared at the Prism, half-terrified, half-drooling.

This was the kind of weapon he wanted.

In the original timeline, the Necrons of Cryptus awakened late in the war and allied with the Blood Angels to fire the Prism—

Destroying much of the Hive Fleet… and the entire system.

But by then, most citizens were already dead.

Eden wanted to save them.

Even if Cryptus fell—if the people survived, hope would remain.

He could give them a new home.

Even if they had to flee, at least under his rule, they wouldn't starve.

He immediately revised the war plan.

In addition to blocking the vanguard, his territory would launch full-scale rescue ops.

Every logistic ship and civilian freighter would be mobilized.

Evacuation priority: people first.

Conveniently, the Charalton region had a population shortage.

He could legitimately absorb Cryptus' refugees.

Win-win.

Once the people were safe—

He'd fire the Grand Prism early.

Before the Tyranids could feast—hit them with a stellar-level firecracker!

With the plan finalized, Eden issued a Savior's Edict.

His territory mobilized. Rescue fleets gathered at the Blackstone Gate and entered the Webway toward Cryptus.

Meanwhile, Tyranid vanguard was already arriving.

Eden ordered Big Barrel, the War Angels, Void Angels, Battle Sisters, Storm Group forces—all to defend the targeted planets.

Evacuation ships would pull out civilians first.

Then Dreamweaver would head for Cryptus.

He had to find Dante.

To avoid unexpected shifts in battle…

Eden was going to dig up the slumbering Necrons—ahead of schedule.

And rally the metal skeletons to help fight Hive Fleet Leviathan!

—

At the edge of the Cryptus System – Adamantine Ring

Frozen asteroids glittered like diamonds in weak starlight.

But beneath the beauty was death.

Extreme cold meant even starships would freeze solid.

Many invaders had died here—becoming part of the ice belt.

Yet no Imperial commander was naïve enough to think it could stop the Tyranids.

Hence Admiral Jatus had stationed his fleet between the Adamantine Ring and the Warden's Girdle—

To hunt any Tyranid bio-ships that made it through.

In the void ahead—

A deathly stillness was shattered.

From the edge of the stars, a terrible shadow crept forward.

Hive Fleet Leviathan had arrived.

Vast, grotesque bio-ships stretched forward with squirming tentacles, surging like a tidal wave toward the system.

Their numbers blotted out the stars—turning starlight into pitch-black silence.

Only the outlines of the swarm remained.

The entire system could feel the pressure of doom drawing near…

(End of Chapter)

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