The ocean world of Tyran III.
Azure waves caressed the shore as Vanessa, who had intended to swim, was swept onto the beach. Rising gracefully from the sands, she flicked her golden hair back with an air of embarrassed elegance. Soldiers from Tyran's army, recently returned from Cadia, along with vacationing civilians, turned their gazes toward her.
Under their watchful eyes, Vanessa strolled towards a local vendor's stand on the beach, pulling out a throne coin to purchase a cold drink.
"Thank you for your patronage. Enjoy your leave," the vendor said, tucking the coin into his pocket, his face blank from the repetition of countless exchanges.
The inhabitants of Tyran III had settled here when the Overdimensional Sky Dome transformed it into an oceanic paradise. They were the only permanent residents, their duties revolving around managing the facilities and serving as merchants.
Vanessa sipped her drink and wandered along the beach. Though dusk had fallen, colorful lights sparkled from the nearby city, where singers banned from leaving the Tyran sector were performing on a central stage.
Near the beach were countless attractions, even an artificial wave generator designed for surfers. In the far distance, a mineral extraction device extended towards the planet's orbit, a small yet insignificant blemish on the otherwise idyllic scenery.
"I heard that a century ago, only nobles were allowed to vacation on this ocean world."
"Whoever told you that, rookie? Ten years ago, this place was nothing but rocks."
"Huh? But that's what a noble from a hive world told me..."
"Think for a second. You worked assembly before enlisting, right? Think any nobles were pounding screws with you? Most of the hive nobles got wiped out in the rebellions, anyway."
Vanessa overheard a group of soldiers discussing the ocean world as she passed by. "I am a noble," she interrupted with a mischievous smile. "And I assure you, Tyran III was already an ocean world a century ago."
The soldiers all turned to stare, expressions puzzled, as a faint smirk crossed Vanessa's face as she walked away.
Every ten paces or so, she encountered something interesting on the beach, but she kept walking until she reached the road leading into the city, where she paused, watching a group recruiting pioneers.
"Join us as pioneers! We're heading to uncharted worlds to build new homes!"
"We'll flatten forests with our machinery, create oases in the desert!"
"For the Tyrant! For a Tyran with more than just fifty-five worlds!"
In red uniforms, the recruiters were passionately addressing passing vacationers, a line of volunteers stretching from the registration booth down to the shoreline. Vanessa lifted her gaze to the sky, where a massive colony ship hovered in Tyran III's orbit. Transports flitted to and fro, ferrying new pioneers to the colony vessel.
The colony ship had only recently been developed and constructed, with no directive from Qin Mo to expand into new frontiers; from shipbuilding to recruitment, it was an entirely grassroots initiative.
Captivated by the sight, Vanessa was so immersed that she didn't notice the transport landing behind her, nor Qin Mo as he stepped out and quietly approached her.
Standing beside Qin Mo, one of his bodyguards, Anreda, held a case containing the Claw of Horus, which had just been removed from Gray.
"You're quite absorbed," Qin Mo remarked from behind her. "What wisdom are you seeking here?"
"I see ambition, courage, the drive to explore," Vanessa replied. "Most worlds in the Tyran sector are harsh, barren, yet here they are, ready to forge new homes. They understand the hardship but fearlessly believe in their resolve to overcome it… This is exactly what I seek and would sacrifice everything to pursue."
Finishing, Vanessa turned to look at Qin Mo, who, for a moment, was taken aback. Her hair flowed around her, golden light filling her eyes, a single tear tracing down her cheek. In that instant, Qin Mo glimpsed a vision—a skeleton standing upon a golden throne.
Vanessa had clearly been possessed. She was not viewing the scene herself, but rather, *he* was observing it.
"So, you can now not only use her to pass messages but also directly possess her?" Qin Mo asked. "In that case, I'd suggest you go to Terra and drive the Inquisition far away."
"Unfortunately, that's impossible," he replied, shaking his head.
After a pause, he continued, "This girl is a treasure among millions. She can withstand my voice without her mind turning to ashes, yet she isn't my herald, merely a piece for observing you."
"Moreover, my will is fractured, not unified in my attitude toward you. I favor you, but another part of me—and countless others—hates you, as much as you loathe the psykers."
"Because I don't know if you favor humanity due to your mortal flesh, or if it's as with the traps you crafted for the Necrons, where today's sweet gifts turn into tomorrow's agony as souls are devoured."
Listening, Qin Mo reflected that the Emperor had always been cryptic, but at least he could understand his words now. Endless torture and a millennium of worship had twisted the Emperor—perhaps even driven him to madness. Guilliman would realize this when he eventually met the Emperor on Terra.
"You have done well," he said suddenly, "Rationality, science, progress—this is how I'd describe everything under your rule."
"Enough flattery," Qin Mo replied, shaking his head.
Tyran's current state rested on his unique power to wield the Star God's energy, which made the material structure of Tyran's worlds more stable, less susceptible to psychic permeation. Were it not for this, each of Tyran's planets would likely be rife with danger and hardship, much like the rest of the Empire.
Fully aware of this, Qin Mo sought only to promote dimensional engines, not to transform every world into a Tyran-like realm—at least not yet.
"Some traitors think I'm nothing but a puppet of sorcery. Do you?"
"Absolutely not. You bear the torment of a thousand years to shelter humanity," Qin Mo replied, suppressing his disdain for the psychic arts. "Master of mankind—worthy of the name."
His expression remained unchanged at the praise, but he nodded slightly. "To business, then. You came to this girl, I imagine, to ask me about that weapon."
"Indeed." Qin Mo took the Claw of Horus from Anreda. "Your suggestions—I'll consider them."
"I suggest you destroy it; it should not exist," he answered.
Qin Mo nodded but did not plan to immediately destroy the Claw. It was a weapon of legend, wielded by Horus against Sanguinius and the Emperor, likely still bearing traces of their genetics.
After a moment's thought, he decided to store the Claw in dimensional space to examine later. Cloning Sanguinius or the Emperor was far-fetched, but it might still yield clues about the Emperor's origins.
He casually tossed the Claw into dimensional space, turned, and boarded the transport.
The golden glow in Vanessa's eyes gradually faded, leaving her feeling profoundly unsettled.