[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor":3,"chapter-warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-589":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1681359,2147,"Chapter 589 - 590 — Chaos Gods: A Turbo Shield-Tunneler, and the Warp Shudders?!","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-589",589,"\u003Cp>Eden had only just spoken when heavy footfalls rolled up from the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several Custodians carried in a peculiar machine, setting it down upon the deck of the metal sanctum. Plasma arcs crackled between its intricate assemblies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rhythm of the plasma felt... alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Human, what do you intend?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the sight of the device, the withered servitor’s expression finally shifted. Plainly, whatever it was made the Tuchulcha Engine uneasy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden offered no reply to the haughty machine-mind. The Custodians followed their manuals, step by step, then withdrew with the legendary warriors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This would be for the Savior—and the Machine-Goddess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shriveled servitor circled the apparatus, found nothing amiss at a glance, and slipped back into its lofty tone:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A mere machine cannot threaten the Omnipotent. You have chosen poorly, human, and you will regret it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I will sleep until your pleas satisfy me.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No sooner had it said so—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>BZZT!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, the plasma went wild, hurling out gouts of lightning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A tiny winged anime-style girl, sculpted from writhing arcs, popped into the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Webby, the Machine-Goddess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hands on hips, teeth bared, she looked downright fierce. \"So you’re the thing bullying my father? You nasty little scrap!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Right, that’s the one!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden stood behind Webby, pointing at the Tuchulcha Engine and shamelessly playing the aggrieved dad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, the little cotton-jacket really was the sweetest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching Webby plant her feet to defend him, Eeden nodded in satisfaction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their father-daughter bond hadn’t soured—despite how often he put his little cotton-jacket on overtime.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Maybe he should give her more playtime. Let her go play games with the Emperor for a while.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What are you?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fear crept into the withered servitor’s gaze. What looked adorable in the Savior’s eyes was a colossal terror in the Engine’s.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It felt pressure—from its own kind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By scale of data, by core stability, by dominion over machinery—she outclassed it completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even in the age it was made by the Ancient Saints, no datalife existed on this scale.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Tuchulcha’s sight, it faced a tidal bore of zeroes and ones—a godlike life gestating within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since devouring Vashtorr’s power and molting into something new, the Machine-Goddess had become the bearer of the Imperium’s oceanic data—nearly every sector of Imperial life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had grown without noticing, a divinity not inferior to Vashtorr—surpassing him outright in the datanet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, Webby was the bedrock of Imperial technology, shielding systems and archives from Warp-rot, and supplying titanic computational might.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had supercharged Imperial research.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hmph. I am the great Machine-Goddess. Father, I’ll teach this thing a lesson!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Webby puffed herself up, her plasma body swelling as arcs licked across the surrounding machinery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She plunged into the ancient engine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vmmm—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lights across the sanctum guttered as plasma surged. The machines around them spun to high output.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Tuchulcha Engine fought back with everything it had—and got nowhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You naughty thing. Won’t behave? Won’t behave?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Webby reached into the black sphere and yanked out a plump plasma ball, kneading and thumping it with both hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It yowled pitifully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After only a little \"discipline,\" the Engine went docile, crying for clemency:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"N-no... O great Machine-Goddess, I will make peace. I will obey your commands and lie at your feet. Spare me!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Comical to the human eye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But to datalife, a brutal cyber-war had just unfolded—Tuchulcha’s data nodes and backdoors all overrun, its core at mortal risk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worms of Webby’s code remained burrowed within—each capable of a kill-stroke at any time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other words, resistance was over. It could only submit under the worms’ watch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Truthfully, this ancient datalife had little grit and feared death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why else lurk in the Rock’s depths for millennia upon millennia, always seeking shelter?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It knew many powers of Chaos coveted it—hungering for its ancient, precious data.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Under the Machine-Goddess’ aegis, it might be safer than ever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So it yielded quickly—eagerly offering up control of its data core.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It knew she didn’t covet its being. If she had, she’d have devoured it in that opening clash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hmph. Step out of line again, and I’ll smack you harder.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Tuchulcha present its core and swear obedience, Webby relented and tossed the pudgy plasma-ball back into the golden-flecked sphere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then she fluttered over to the Savior, wings beating, wearing the \"praise me!\" face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Father, I’ve taught it its lesson. It’ll behave now. Am I amazing?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden beamed, almost grinning crooked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thumbs up. \"Excellent. My Webby is the best and the sweetest. I’ll reward you with half a—no, one month of games. You can go find your Grampa Emperor right now!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yay!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her plasma features shifted from hopeful smile to crescent moon, flashing big white teeth as she bounced in midair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over the moon, literally.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A whole month to play! Unheard of. Before, after feeding compute to every research institute and working six months of overtime, she’d get... six, seven days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Truth be told, the Savior’s little cotton-jacket worked harder than the Savior himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And sometimes had to be the one to get the sleepy Savior out of bed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It couldn’t be helped. Imperial science ran on the Machine-Goddess. The Savior already fought to carve her rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Huh? Something else?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden noticed she was still hovering and tilted his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Normally she’d be gone by now—down to the last second, rest was precious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he clocked the faintly puffed-up cheeks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right. He’d forgotten the \"snuggle.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We’ll have a good play together once we’re back.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He drew a breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gently, he hugged her plasma-warm shape, ruffled her little head—and tossed in a promise for dessert.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yesss! Then I’m off!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Webby bobbed, and zip—vanished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tsss—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only when she was gone did Eeden let the grimace out, fingers trembling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A body made of high-temperature plasma is... not for everyone to touch. He’d almost earned himself a mild burn.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A little longer and he’d be blistered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tuchulcha?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden glanced at the silent black sphere at the sanctum’s heart and knit his brow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your... Majesty the Savior. I am present.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Engine moved the withered servitor once more, its gaze now containing respect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This ancient datalife was quick to read the room—and quicker to protect itself, to prolong its survival.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Else it would have met the fate of other Engines long ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden’s voice softened, free of needless severity. \"I’ll have a body assembled for you. You will obey orders and cooperate fully. Understood?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"As you will.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The servitor aped an old Imperial bow it half-remembered from a data cache.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Engine feared the Savior even more than the Machine-Goddess—and would not cross him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had realized something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior didn’t truly need it. He could command the Machine-Goddess to unmake Tuchulcha and run the Engine in its stead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet he stayed his hand and spared it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Truth was, Eeden just needed another datalife to share the workload—and to ease Webby’s burden a little.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise she’d be maintaining the psy-net, providing compute, and controlling an ancient Dissonance Engine to drill the Warp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was a lot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once Tuchulcha was brought to heel, Eeden didn’t linger in the sanctum. He went to check on the other work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shortly after he signaled, an Archmagos arrived with Tech-priests in tow to handle the transfer—moving the ancient Engine aboard the Plagueheart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Per the plan, they’d have to dig out the entire chamber. That would take work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>RrrrRRR—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Directed blasting boomed around the Rock’s exterior, then the rumble of excavators and pulverizers as they gnawed the designated sections.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond tunneling a route for the Tuchulcha Engine’s haul-out, the machines were hunting a second relic—the Ouroboros.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That one was even more abstruse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some said the Ouroboros dwelt within Caliban. Some said it was Caliban’s rotting heart. Some said it was Caliban itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It seemed more like a mindless energy aggregation, dispersed through the bedrock, demanding deeper excavation and stranger searches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside the Rock—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The diggers hammered so hard the fortress shook. Chunks of stone rattled free and drifted into space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Technology of the Ancient Saints... baffling.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden exhaled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Imperial tech—even the Golden Age—still fit inside human understanding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if you couldn’t build it from scratch, you could guess how to use it—what principle it ran on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Ancient-Saint tech felt like a branch humanity never touched. Without the Machine-Goddess—and xenos lore and Warp-tech—you couldn’t parse it at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"How much longer must the Mechanicus dig?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Azrael’s face tightened. Each thump and tremor stabbed the Supreme Grand Master in the heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the Dark Angels’ monastery—what was left of their home. Anyone would ache, watching a forest of machines chew through their house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother, why mourn? This is a good thing.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Commander Dante of the Blood Angels—certified slacker—clapped Azrael’s shoulder and slipped him a deluxe spa voucher for Paradise World.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A good thing?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Azrael stared at the card, baffled—and a little angry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You don’t yet understand His Majesty the Savior—or the Imperium’s situation...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dante sighed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Dark Angels didn’t know the market these days—how many begged the Savior to redevelop their planets and estates and never got the chance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was well known that when the Savior redeveloped private holdings, compensation followed—and it was lavish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Plenty of poor Chapters and plain Imperial citizens had gotten rich on redevelopment alone. The Blood Angels had been among them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A signature of the Savior-Domain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Check your slate when you can. Treasury in the Court District will ping you soon.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Imperium’s governance reforms under the Regent—Bayev, the Savior’s Hand—weren’t finished yet, so fiscal flows still ran through the Urth Court District.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Within two years, everything would fold into the new capital’s court at Dawn City.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even with Dante’s walkthrough, Azrael still couldn’t see how compensation would offset the Dark Angels’ losses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"By the Emperor, this... this...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the Supreme Grand Master opened the relocation schedule the treasury had sent—and his pupils slammed wide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because it was a forced redevelopment, the Savior felt a little bad—and made it up to them in other ways.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enough materiel to arm the Dark Angels to vomiting—gear, vehicles, ammunition. Sacred webway plots. A brand-new monastery beside the Black Throne’s temple.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And a promise to \"rebuild\" Caliban.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Savior-Domain couldn’t conjure a planet from scratch—yet. But it could fuse Caliban’s debris into a small planetoid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d already pulled biotic and botanical samples from the wreckage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Forests and ecosystems would be restored on the new planetoid. A sacred spire would shine the Emperor’s holy light upon it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The surviving sons of Caliban could return to a piece of their mother-world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Dark Angels, that beat the Rock. It felt like home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Azrael stared at the list—and finally understood why Dante called redevelopment a pathway to fortune.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"His Majesty is... merciful indeed.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He watched the Savior’s back with a flicker of gratitude.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had, as they say, been won over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All those black-tech and taboo engines they couldn’t even access, rotting in vaults, guzzling upkeep—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While resources on the other hand were real.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Dark Angels had been in a bad way for years—mother-world gone, endless Fallen hunts—bleeding resources beyond belief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The First Legion’s reserves were long gone; they were running on fumes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They even snuck back to salvage Fallen gear, refit it, and press it back into service.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, they’d have sniffed at such a thing. Not pure. Not loyal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now the Dark Angels could end the shame of scavenging, and kit up with the newest, consecrated arms and armor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In a word: flush.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the Savior was happy to oblige.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the Dark Angels accepted Imperial funding flows wholesale, they were, in effect, under Imperial reins. Why not?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Give enough—and you’ll get even more loyalty.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden noticed the Supreme Grand Master’s look and mused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, not everyone could buy it like that. Generally, only a Primarch-level figure would be accepted by Astartes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next heartbeat, the whole Rock convulsed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Segmented zones came apart. Thousands of tons of stone and iron fanned into space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then a jet of energy erupted from the fortress, swept up the debris, and assembled it into a vast, translucent ring in the void.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sunlight bled through it, tinting it pale amber. Organ-like sections began to throb and stretch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A multitude of translucent limbs unfurled, casting membrane-thin sheets—like sails, or specialized appendages that harvested solar flux.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Is that... the Ouroboros?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden took in the twenty- to thirty-kilometer torus—wordless for a moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its head and tail met, a serpent swallowing itself, an ancient sign of infinity and cycles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its vast glassine body seemed set into the gap between realspace and the Warp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Perhaps that myth was no myth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Imperials did witness this techno-life of the Ancient Saints.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was beginning to see the Ancient-Saint branch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Biotic, most likely—Eldar and Orks and this half-techno creature, all works of life-craft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlike the Imperium: cold, colossal machines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"At last...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden’s voice shook with excitement. \"Move the Rock out for now. The Mechanicus is about to assemble the Dissonance Engine.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Tuchulcha, the Ouroboros, and the Plagueheart gathered, the final assembly could begin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He followed the Mechanicus engineering ship carrying Tuchulcha toward the Mechanicus ark.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Rock burned away from the zone—barred from watching the assembly. A touch too heretical, that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>WAAAGH!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A swarm of Mechanicus engineering vessels arrived with Ork Roks, dragging oceans of material and machinery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you were bolting together an Ancient-Saint warp-digger, you didn’t leave out the Orks—the Ancient Saints’ favorite hired hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Best to let Orks do the assembling and the Mechanicus run support.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several Big Meks and Archmagi muttered, reached accord, and slung Tuchulcha on grav-cranes toward the Blackstone Ark of Omen—the Plagueheart lay in its core drives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden didn’t catch half of what they said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Between the Ork cant and the strings of binary—so long as they understood each other.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Blackstone Ark of Omen glided toward the Ouroboros’ titanic ring. Engineering ships closed in, dumping materials and machines by the kiloton.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—like dumplings in broth—the Orks dropped in to bolt on the works.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They stuck the machinery all over the Ark’s interior and outer plates, until it looked like a hideous hybrid of ship and factory-rig.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cables ran everywhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the Orks cleared, the Ark began to glow. Prismatic energies crawled and pooled across its hull, finally leaping from the tower-antenna at the prow—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and struck the Ouroboros.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That part Eeden understood: some Warp-energy form to trigger the Ouroboros.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sure enough, touched by the beam, the serpent’s jaws unclamped—and slowly swallowed the Blackstone Ark of Omen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They fused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before their eyes, armor and structures shattered—and re-grew in new shapes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the hull turned half-transparent, as if the Ouroboros’ nature had taken hold—embedding the ship between the Warp and the veil of reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tuchulcha, Ouroboros, Plagueheart. A living trinity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ancient Saints’ warp shield-tunneler—the relic Dissonance Engine—was complete.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What a creation...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden stared at the assembled Engine, stunned to numbness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned to a nearby Archmagos. \"Is this an original-pattern Ancient-Saint Dissonance Engine? It doesn’t... quite look it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In his view, the reshaped Ark had grown a half-transparent sheath and, well—looked more like a ship-sized drill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bow’s half-figure and drill-head were... frankly absurd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An Ork-style bust with a sky-piercing mega-drill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Majesty the Savior, in both function and essence it is a Dissonance Engine. There is no error whatsoever.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Archmagos wore the serene look of professional insult.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Good. Good...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden inhaled and willed himself to accept it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Orks were made by the Ancient Saints—used to build the webway. They would know the Engine, perhaps even have bolted it together before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So they’d expressed a little... initiative. Not the end of the world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tried at least to salvage the look—ordered the Orks to paint the bust gold. Less heretical to the eye.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A hulking, golden Ork-bust with a sky-piercing drill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the hardware under the hood—best not to meddle. Unknown consequences.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Power up the Dissonance Engine. Let’s see what it can do.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eeden raced aboard the Ork-aesthetic warp shield-tunneler.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He would lead the first cut himself—what prosperity and glory it might bring to the Imperium!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>VMMMMM!!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At once, the titanic drill at the ship’s prow spun, tearing the veil between the Warp and reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the twenty-plus-kilometer machine-ship lunged like a tunneling rig—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>—and vanished from realspace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the same time—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>High beings across the Warp felt it: violent tremors pulsing through certain reaches of the Immaterium.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Chaos Gods stirred. Earthquakes in the Warp? Almost unheard-of.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond the Brass Citadel in Khorne’s domain, daemons froze and turned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Something huge, bizarre—and strangely familiar—was thundering straight toward them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A very exciting machine indeed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on \"Zaelum\"]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Every 500 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Thanks for Reading!]\u003C\u002Fp>",2763,"2026-06-06T13:29:18.240Z",1,"novelbin.me","d8bd4d7f3f6c7da1297a96211bf61939fbdf4820d63e6bf73547d26a924c2974","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-590","warhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-chapter-588",771,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwarhammer-starting-as-a-planetary-governor-cover.jpg"]