Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor

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With a burst of radiant light, Eden's consciousness entered the Hive Network.

The golden glow emanating from the network was a result of the Little Sun's energy infusion.

In the virtual space, countless points of light intertwined, each representing a life. These interconnected soul nodes—belonging to tens of millions of clever individuals and Aeldari—formed a galaxy-like brilliance.

As the master of this network, Eden could control all the connected lives.

He focused, pinpointing the marked soul nodes representing the missionary saints, and transmitted his consciousness through one of them.

Simply put, Eden was exercising his divine authority to possess a believer.

This method was a familiar trick of the Warp gods, even the God-Emperor himself.

As the light dissipated, Eden's consciousness connected to a missionary saint, observing the surroundings through their perspective.

Of course, this was merely an attachment of consciousness; the saint's body could not endure the full extent of Eden's power. Channeling too much psychic energy would obliterate the host.

This tethered connection left the host's thoughts and actions untouched, functioning like an external surveillance camera that allowed Eden to see and hear everything.

Once he adjusted, Eden heard a child's voice nearby.

"Mr. Fran?"

Little Brown's worried voice called out to the suddenly dazed Fran.

"I'm fine, don't worry. Hurry, we need to move! The suppression forces are coming…"

Fran shook off his daze and urged the boy forward.

No sooner had he spoken than a volley of bullets tore through the air, cutting down several dazed workers nearby.

Luckily, Fran and Little Brown were unharmed.

Their timing couldn't have been worse—arriving at the hive capital only to stumble into a violent suppression campaign.

Eden, observing through Fran's perspective, felt like a 360-degree humanoid camera, taking in every detail of the chaotic scene.

Ahead, the suppression forces surged forward, accompanied by the thunderous advance of armored tanks.

Above them, the hive spire loomed—a tangled mass of plasteel and reinforced concrete, layer upon chaotic layer, stretching endlessly into the steel sky.

This lower hive dwarfed the one on Urth in both scale and disorder.

As Eden assessed the situation, the battlefield shifted.

The rebels launched a counterattack, hurling incendiary bombs at the suppression forces.

The chemical flames clung to the soldiers, burning fiercely and proving almost impossible to extinguish.

It was clear the rebels were well-organized.

This was a good sign—an organized rebellion could be harnessed to challenge the sector governor.

However, their strength alone wouldn't suffice.

The suppression forces retaliated fiercely. Tanks barreled through the flames, launching shells into the rebel ranks.

"Stick close to me!"

Sensing the danger, Fran grabbed Little Brown's hand and ran toward cover.

Explosions erupted behind them, sending shockwaves that knocked many off their feet.

Despite their resistance, the rebels were being overwhelmed.

Reinforcements arrived for the suppression forces as assault ships descended from the steel sky, dropping massive pods into the fray.

The heavy pods crushed rebels and soldiers alike, indiscriminately sowing chaos.

The rebels stared at the pods warily, unsure of what was emerging.

Near one pod, two cautious rebels approached, weapons raised.

Bang!

The pod's hatch exploded outward, flinging one rebel into a distant wall.

Roar!

A guttural bellow followed as a blood-red, armored warrior emerged, grabbing the remaining rebel and tearing him apart with brute strength.

Blood sprayed across the warrior's crimson armor, amplifying his frenzy.

More roars erupted.

Additional blood-red warriors poured out of the pods, wielding brutal melee weapons and slaughtering indiscriminately.

Screams filled the air as these berserkers tore through both rebels and suppression forces alike.

Their aura of violence shattered the rebels' morale, sending them fleeing in terror.

But the berserkers gave no quarter, pursuing their prey with relentless fury.

"Damn it, those are heretic warriors!"

Fran, holding tightly to Little Brown, was swept up in the panicked crowd, trying to escape.

The berserkers closed in, their bloodlust palpable. Flesh and gore splattered onto Fran's back as the slaughter unfolded.

"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"

The berserkers roared, their frenzied eyes glowing crimson.

Even hardened soldiers crumbled under the weight of their oppressive presence.

Aboard one of the assault ships, a black-robed Tech-Priest observed the carnage below.

"These bloodthirsty warriors cost countless lives to create," the priest muttered, tension evident in his voice.

After a moment of observation, the priest's lips curled into a sinister smile.

"They've met expectations…"

This success would secure additional resources for even more extensive experiments.

On the ground, Eden—still tethered to Fran—watched the carnage unfold.

The berserkers' tactics and frenzied energy were unmistakable.

These were Khorne's warriors.

Eden's mind raced.

"Berserkers of Khorne? These are far stronger than the cultists I've dealt with before. They're nearly Astartes-level!"

The sector governor had clearly crossed a line.

Eden now had to reconsider his plans. If berserkers were here, there was a high probability of a Greater Daemon's presence.

He couldn't afford to take any chances.

For now, his priority was ensuring Fran's survival.

The berserkers' chainaxes were drawing dangerously close to Fran. Losing him would be disastrous—he was essential for gathering critical intelligence.

Eden's determination hardened. This was no time for hesitation.

(End of Chapter)

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