…
The Tyron System.
Within the highest research chamber on the planet, Qin Mo analyzed the genetic data lingering on Horus's claw while handling another pressing matter—one concerning the dimensional communication station.
Traditionally, these stations were nestled within dimensional space, overseen by a central AI and a minimal human crew. Yet, just yesterday, the AI had advised removing all humans from the station, citing the emergence of madness among them.
The reason was clear: prolonged exposure to the monotony of lines and incomprehensible phenomena within dimensional space had proven mentally destabilizing.
Fortunately, in the Tyron Star Zone, madness was not beyond remedy. Those removed from the station had been sent to Tyron III's hospitals, where medical researchers had convened to draft treatment protocols: memory erasure, sensory restoration… they would find a way.
"Failure," Qin Mo muttered, his mood darkening as he tossed the report into the waste bin.
"What failed?" Mimic asked, perching on the armrest beside him, looking puzzled, unfamiliar with such words from Qin Mo.
"There was no real necessity for live personnel in the communications station," Qin Mo explained. "My idea was to establish habitats within dimensional space to eventually migrate the population, but this now seems unfeasible."
Mimic, realizing the scope of Qin Mo's plan, imagined his intent to eventually relocate the Tyron Star Zone into dimensional space or, perhaps, to have an escape route when all hope was lost. Either way, that plan was now in ruins.
"Perhaps you just need patience. Humanity could adapt within dimensional space over a few million years, evolving organs to withstand its nature," Mimic suggested.
"Are you joking?" Qin Mo had already decided to abandon the notion of settling humans within dimensional space.
At least for now, the situation hadn't deteriorated enough to require such an extreme measure; it had simply been an option. Cardia still held strong, the Great Rift hadn't torn the galaxy apart, and the Empire hadn't split between light and dark—favorable circumstances indeed. Still, vigilance remained paramount.
"I plan to forge a defensive perimeter around the Tyron Star Zone," Qin Mo said, gently tapping Mimic's shoulder as a cue to project the star map.
The room transformed into a vast map with the Tyron Star Zone at its center. All the systems within were shaded in gray, a sign of their protected status.
With the Star God's power gradually returning, Qin Mo had long noticed his presence alone could stabilize the fabric of reality, though not entirely blocking the influence of warp energy. It did, however, yield substantial results.
When the Blight of Faith had threatened the Tyron Star Zone, its reach had weakened near the Tyron System, resembling a mere outbreak of the undead plague.
The range of this stabilizing influence grew with time, marking the expansion of the Tyron Star Zone. Each new band of protected systems joined the zone, turning gray on the map. But this expansion had slowed recently; perhaps they'd reached their limit.
Qin Mo's gaze fell on the unclaimed systems surrounding the Tyron Star Zone. He intended to establish space defenses within these systems, creating a buffer to shield Tyron from the flames of war.
"I observed these systems," Mimic remarked. "Most of them yearn for protection, seeking refuge from interspecies pirate raids."
"Most, not all. It will require effort." Qin Mo's focus remained on the map, recalling recent pirate reports.
Only a week ago, Anreda, in charge of interstellar affairs, had reported a raid by Eldar pirates on a world thirty light-years from Tyron's border. Survivors claimed to have seen alien beings with pointed ears.
Eldar, undoubtedly—but the details were unclear. The Eldar ally Sal, who had aided in neutralizing a Blackstone Fortress during the Battle of Cadia, was now long gone.
"I suspect those pirates may be Dark Eldar," Qin Mo speculated aloud.
"Dark Eldar? A subset of the Eldar?" Mimic, familiar only with the Eldar's legacy from the War of Heaven, was unaware of their fall to the worship of Slaanesh, nor of the fractured existence of the various Eldar factions.
"A sect dwelling in the Webway—utterly depraved." Qin Mo gave a brief explanation.
Mimic nodded silently. There was little advice to offer against Eldar who lurked within the Webway.
Leaving the subject of the Dark Eldar behind, Qin Mo shifted to another crucial matter. "Is there any Blackstone in the Star Zone?"
"There isn't," Mimic replied.
"Then it seems we'll need to acquire it from elsewhere." Qin Mo planned to construct a Blackstone array once the Tyron defensive line was completed.
As for how to obtain the Blackstone… he'd contact Agripinaa's Tech-Priest Dominus, Vick, to secure a shipment of Blackstone extracted by the Adeptus Mechanicus. Alternatively, they might seize some from Hades VIII, where Blackstone deposits lay beneath enemy territory.
After pondering these steps, Qin Mo turned his gaze to Mimic.
Mimic raised an eyebrow, uncertain of his intent.
"Can you alter your form?" Qin Mo asked.
"Of course." Mimic stood and spread his arms. "What would you like?"
Qin Mo contemplated briefly, intending a profound change for Mimic's humanoid form—a transformation of great significance for himself.
"Turn your white fur to gold."
"Do you mean just the hair, or… all of it?"
"Ahem… all of it."
"..."
"Governor."
Anreda's holographic image suddenly materialized in the chamber, interrupting the exchange.
"If it's another request for reinforcements for the Tyron Gate systems, deploy any fleets Adam left behind," Qin Mo responded before Anreda could speak.
Recently, each time Anreda contacted him, it was to request additional fleets for the Tyron Gate, the designated name of Tyron's defensive perimeter.
But this time, Anreda hadn't come to ask for reinforcements.
"A transmission from the fleet at Baal," Anreda reported, raising a hand to display an image. "There's… a being engulfed in flame seeking an audience with you."
Qin Mo and Mimic glanced casually at the display, only to be struck with astonishment.
On the screen stood a blazing Star God, poised outside a warship—a Star God Shard, to be precise.
"The Burning One…" Qin Mo nodded. "I will go to Baal personally; I have business with him."
"Don't go!" Mimic clutched Qin Mo's arm, alarmed.
Mimic's opinion of the Burning One was exceedingly low; in countless stories it had shared, the Burning One was invariably a ruthless bully.
"I'll wait until the Celestial Engine is complete," Qin Mo replied, reassuring Mimic.
This shard of the Burning One clearly rivaled the strength of the Nightbringer Shard that had once invaded the Tyron Star Zone.
Still, Mimic felt confident that with the Celestial Engine, it and Qin Mo could overcome the Burning One's shard.
Yet Qin Mo's intentions were different. He wasn't simply planning to repeat their previous tactics; once at Baal, he intended to subdue the Burning One personally and integrate him into the Celestial Engine's satellite structure.
This would resolve its energy demands, expanding it into a second planetary entity.
The allure of a Celestial Engine Plus was something Qin Mo could not resist.