"What did that being actually say in the letter, and what attitude do they have toward Fanes?"
The nobles of the Kalozasa Dynasty and the court officials couldn't help edging closer, forming a dense, dark mass.
They stared at the letter in the hands of the necrodermis governor—the Crownless Phaeron—and their minds swarmed with questions.
They waited with bated breath.
That letter from Holy Terra was far too important. It would shape the final fate of Fanes, and of everyone here.
That was Eden's goal: using supreme authority to stamp Fanes' loyalty as officially recognized.
Rulers—emperors—often grant favors downward like this, harvesting gratitude and loyalty in return.
To dig up information on Fanes, that shadow-side world, Eden had burned an immense amount of compute and manpower, nearly turning Holy Terra's Administratum archives inside out.
It had been a brutal search.
At one point, the Imperium had assumed the Fanes system was already destroyed under xenos assault, removed it from the administrative structure, and sealed the records.
Fortunately, earlier reforms had reorganized vast quantities of documents and indexes. Only then could they locate the relevant materials inside that ocean of paperwork.
Following the trail, Administratum clerks found—deep in a dust-choked repository—a letter from the Governor of Fanes that had never been read.
After Eden read the necrodermis governor's letter, he was genuinely moved, praising the sender's loyalty.
Because in an old Imperium where planetary governors skewed toward brutal little warlords and Holy Terra itself was riddled with treachery, seeing a servant so devoted was undeniably heartening.
Even if the sender was a xenos governor.
He even gave a private assessment:
"That earlier Great Purge was clearly the right call. With that swarm of vermin around, how could anyone run the Imperium properly?
This Zhabok—this is what a good Imperial governor looks like."
Of course, that judgment was filed into the highest-level forbidden archive. No outsider would ever see it.
Afterward, Eden personally wrote a private letter to the necrodermis governor and to Fanes, using a warm tone to draw them closer.
And it was tailored specifically to Fanes' circumstances, designed to stir their emotions as much as possible.
Establishing authority, balancing factions, and guiding public sentiment—those were basic skills for a ruler. If you held supreme power and still couldn't do that, you were simply incompetent.
And that kind of incompetence buried enormous risks beneath your rule—risks that could bleed your power away.
Eden's handwritten letter was transmitted by Holy Terra's astropathic choir.
They mobilized dozens of high-rank astropaths, spanning multiple sanctums, to push the message across the void to Fanes' own astropaths.
Only something that truly rode the old Imperium's communication network—something verifiably sent from Holy Terra—could make Fanes believe, preventing suspicion from taking root.
Once Fanes' astropaths received Terra's transmission, they copied it onto parchment and sealed it with wax.
At last, it was delivered into the necrodermis governor's hands.
The moment Zhabok accepted the Imperium's Emperor's letter, the entire throne sector fell silent.
Standing beneath the throne steps, his hand trembled—so much that, for a moment, he couldn't bring himself to open it.
He swept his gaze across the crowd, forcing himself to calm down.
Only then did he finally break the double-headed aquila seal and read.
"Emperor above… this is the Imperium's Emperor's private letter, not an official dispatch or decree?!"
When he saw the true nature of the contents, the necrodermis governor's emotional turbulence surged even harder.
Honor and gratitude flooded him.
A private letter like this implied trust—far more intimate than a dry, rigid edict.
In Zhabok's view, after the heading, the date, and the security classification, the main text was reflected clearly:
To the Planetary Governor of Fanes, the Crownless One, Lord Zhabok:
Holy Terra's sundial has just pointed to the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension. It is a busy day; my audience chamber is packed with officials and lords waiting to be received.
But I have made them wait, because I have decided to personally reply to the letter from Fanes.
This matter is important.
When Fanes receives this letter, much time may already have passed.
It is a pity you cannot witness the grandeur of Holy Terra's Feast of the Emperor's Ascension—one of the greatest ceremonies in the galaxy. If the opportunity arises, I will invite you to observe it in person.
The Fanes you described is admirable. Few frontier worlds of the Imperium can claim such prosperity.
You wrote that Fanes' streets are clean and its people are fed. You wrote that there is not a single heretic visible, that they do not even dare to raise their heads. I believe you.
For a frontier world in the harsh conditions of the shadow side to pay the Eleventh Tithe in full—and to take the heads of heretics and traitors while doing so—this is excellent.
It is far better than those governors who do nothing but cry poverty while secretly lining their own pockets. Continue as you have done.
I can feel your devotion, and Fanes' devotion—unmatched in its sincerity. You are without doubt among the most loyal subjects of the Imperium.
You hold the faith at the Imperium's edge, you enact the path of human prosperity through sheer will, and you prove your exceptional capability through an abundant Eleventh Tithe…
"A-ah… Our Imperium's Emperor has praised Fanes. The slander claiming this world is heretical is nothing but the most ridiculous lie!"
Zhabok read those unabashed praises, his emotions rising so high he could barely steady the parchment in his hand.
It felt like vindication at last—like someone in ultimate authority had finally spoken on his behalf.
If the necrodermis governor still possessed tear ducts, he would have already been shedding loyal, burning tears.
That outcome was inevitable.
For centuries he had worked day and night, handling governance without rest, driving himself to keep Fanes running, stockpiling tithe after tithe—just to prove loyalty to the Imperium.
To obtain that honor.
And it wasn't only him. The rest of Fanes' subjects were the same: deeply faithful, proud of their identity and their loyalty.
That was why, when the Third Diocese declared Fanes heretical and traitorous, the world had fallen into such despair.
But now, their humiliation had been washed away. And they had received recognition and glory beyond imagination—from the Imperium's Emperor himself.
How could they not be overwhelmed?
Zhabok proudly broadcast the Emperor's praise of Fanes outward, letting the nobles and officials—who had been waiting in agony—hear it.
"I said it from the start. The Imperium would never truly treat Fanes as heretical."
"We of Fanes are the most loyal and prosperous in this region—beyond dispute!"
As the message spread, people couldn't help straightening their backs and smiling.
Even living-metal faces pulled their jaw mechanisms wide in a grin.
This was a moment of pride for Fanes' subjects.
Loyalty.
The Imperium's Emperor's praise sent Fanes' sense of identity and honor surging through the roof.
The news was rapidly broadcast to every hive city. They wanted every citizen of Fanes to hear it.
It would erase the confusion and despair that had been poisoning hearts.
The throne sector erupted into jubilation. Nobles and officials cried, "Long live the Emperor," and shouted the honorific title of the Imperium's Emperor.
They offered loyalty to the one who had acknowledged Fanes.
Without question, he was a benevolent and wise ruler. Anyone who dared slander him was an enemy of Fanes.
Gradually, the celebration cooled, and eyes turned back to the necrodermis governor.
They realized his emotions had shifted again.
He had grown solemn.
Even… slightly panicked.
It was baffling.
"Emperor above… we may be about to face an unspeakable humiliation."
After finishing the letter, Zhabok's earlier smile slowly vanished, a tremor entering his voice.
He raised his head to the crowd.
"The prosperity and stability we described in our letter impressed the Imperium's Emperor so deeply that he has decided—during his crusade through the Shrouded Region—to come to Fanes and witness it with his own eyes…"
The letter had said:
I am about to depart, leading a fleet to reclaim the lost territories of the Shrouded Region, so that every civilized world cut off and tormented by darkness may regain its light.
More unexpectedly, Fanes lies near the route of this crusade.
To commend your sincerity, I will personally set foot upon Fanes.
You need not lay golden carpets or hold lavish celebrations. I only wish to see the true Fanes—whether it is as you have said—and to let the Imperium behold the loyalty that exists there.
Remember this: I come for glory, not for inspection or censure. When my flagship descends, may Fanes' skies shine with loyalty.
…What?
That great and merciful Imperium's Emperor intended to personally descend upon Fanes—inspect it in person—and even proclaim it to the broader Imperium?!
When the nobles and court officials heard this, the smiles on their faces froze solid.
They took a breath, looked around at the shattered hive cities and the distant thunder of war, and felt as if a warhammer had struck their minds.
Even living-metal brains sparked as thought processes overloaded.
"What do we do?!"
That single thought erupted in the hearts of Zhabok, the nobles, and the court officials alike.
According to the letter's timing, the Imperium's Emperor was likely already en route to the Fanes system.
The fluctuations detected beyond the system's edge—those might very well be the Emperor's own fleet.
Worse still, Fanes was in the midst of a brutal war against xenos and heretics. Residential zones and manufactoria had been damaged; its former prosperity had been gutted.
If the Imperium's Emperor saw this… what then?
Would he be enraged?
Would he condemn Fanes' subjects for deceiving him?
Whether Zhabok or the beings around him, all of them felt the same crushing shame—like they'd boasted an astronomical lie, and now the entire galaxy was about to watch them get executed for it on live broadcast.
More importantly, they might lose the praise and glory they had just received, becoming an embarrassment to the Imperium.
And it involved the crime of deceiving the Imperium's Emperor.
Once people finally obtain something, they instinctively want to protect it—especially the moment they realize they might lose it.
That was exactly what Fanes' high-ranked existences were feeling now.
They had already thrown the humiliation and anger of the bombardment to the back of their minds. What they wanted now was to preserve that exhilaration and honor.
And they felt guilty—deeply guilty—that they had failed to protect Fanes.
"I have betrayed the trust and blessing the Imperium's Emperor granted us…"
Zhabok imagined the Emperor crossing unimaginable distances, arriving in high spirits to see the prosperous Fanes described in the letter—only to find a ruined world.
The guilt became unbearable.
"Everyone… we cannot allow that merciful Imperium's Emperor to see a broken Fanes, and its suffering people.
We cannot."
Zhabok stumbled forward, stopping before the crowd, and spoke slowly, with iron resolve.
"We must, before the Imperium's Emperor arrives, purge every last xenos and heretic, end all unrest, and restore the hive cities' order and appearance as much as possible.
Even if we cannot return to what we once were, we cannot let that being witness Fanes being invaded by xenos and heretics!"
Now that the Emperor's arrival was unavoidable, Fanes' subjects had to do something—anything—to reclaim that blessing and that trust.
The moment the necrodermis governor finished, the throne sector boiled—its roar mixing with cheers from hive cities everywhere, as news spread that the stain of "heresy" had been erased.
In guilt and resolve, nobles and officials swore aloud:
"Those damned xenos and heretics—none of them leave alive!"
"Emperor above, I'll fight until I break to defend the dignity of Fanes!"
"We will not betray the trust the Imperium's Emperor has placed in us!"
These high-ranked forces had gathered here because of the Third Diocese fleet's exterminatus attempt, leaving other regions stuck in passive defense.
Now, their will to fight surged like a tidal wave. They swore to exterminate every invading xenos and heretic.
To restore peace to their world.
The nobles of the Kalozasa Dynasty immediately partitioned the war zones within their cortical fields, then led their forces into the fight.
They moved like beings throwing their lives away.
At the same time, countless Canoptek Spyders and construction engines were activated, repairing devastated sectors at speed even as the war raged.
"Emperor above… we've finally been redeemed…"
"Did you hear? The Imperium's Emperor is coming here—and he's going to tell the rest of the Imperium, too.
If he sees Fanes as it is now, he might strip away our loyalty and our glory!"
"We of Fanes will never let the rest of the Imperium look down on us!"
Across the hive cities, the faithful masses—after the first rush of joy at having their shame washed away—also decided to act.
From the day they were born, they had been proud of Fanes' loyalty and of paying the glorious tithe. They would not profane that honor.
Especially after tasting the despair of being labeled heretics, they cherished it even more.
They spontaneously shouldered weapons to help defend their homes. Entire populations mobilized to clear rubble, process debris, and join reconstruction efforts.
It was for honor.
And it was for their homeland.
Fanes stood united.
Very quickly, the hive cities blazed with cleansing war and emergency rebuilding—preparing for the Imperium's Emperor's arrival.
With a new goal, even while still suffering the misery of war, they worked with manic drive.
The heretics and xenos invading Fanes were utterly stunned by the sudden ferocity of the counterattack.
"Waaagh—Awooo, awooo, awooo!"
"For the Imperium's Emperor!"
Outside a hive city, an Ork warboss leading his boyz was seized by a living-metal noble and beaten into the ground in a frenzy—beaten so hard he was howling like a dog.
Daemons were surrounded by massed Necron forces, drowned under Gauss fire until they fled in terror.
The entire area was flooded with searing, eye-burning light.
As for the Flayed Ones, they too were pushed back, inch by inch.
Worse still, even Chaos-mutated creatures hiding in the lower hive's shadowy corners were dragged out by hive militias and executed.
Including ugly, feral things that reeked of Chaos mutation.
Fanes did not allow grotesque "looks-like-Chaos" filth to exist.
What if the Imperium's Emperor saw it?
In short, the people of Fanes swore to execute every last heretic and xenos on their world—doing everything possible to uphold the boast they had already shouted to the stars.
So they could welcome the Imperium's Emperor.
"Fanes has tremendous potential—this level of mobilization is impressive.
The risk of rebellion here is basically gone. After being dragged through the abyss of despair, they've become even more loyal."
Watching it all through his split awareness, Eden couldn't help feeling a bit impressed—then immediately ordered his genestealers to burrow into the deepest sewage canals of the lower hive.
To avoid interfering with Fanes' recovery. Right now, those people were practically high on adrenaline.
This was the Savior—the Imperium's Emperor—pulling off his outrageous maneuver: top-tier PUA. Inflate their pride, steer their emotions, then hit them with a "personal inspection" guillotine hanging over their heads.
It made Fanes forget its anger at being bombarded and instead collapse into self-reflection and guilt—throwing itself into blazing preparation.
The situation flipped completely.
From a certain angle, it was like turning a funeral into a celebration.
Not ideal, sure. But if you handled it right, it still forged unity at the critical moment and squeezed out maximum initiative.
A last-resort method.
Some certain "third-bro" figure out there loved doing this kind of unhinged operation all the time.
Once Eden confirmed the immediate risk was contained, his awareness finally returned to his body inside the sanctum aboard the Dreamweaver.
His Savior—his Imperium's Emperor—fleet was about to reach Fanes.
He needed to prepare for the coming "inspection."
He was going to happily accept the Kalozasa Dynasty's loyalty and inheritance.
It would be the richest xenos armed force and ancient technological legacy he had ever taken into his hands.
The Æonic Orb alone was worth the trouble.
More importantly, once he dug out Fanes' subterranean tomb complex and seized the Crownless Phaeron's fleet and armaments—combined with his current crusade coalition—
whether it was Erebus, the Black Legion, Ork warlords, Tyranid hive fleets, or the daemon hosts of the Chaos Gods…
they could all line up and get blasted into dust.
Even though the situation had stabilized, countless details still needed to be handled—so nothing went wrong during the takeover.
The act had to be performed to the end.
This would be a rare moment in Imperial history.
A loyalty meeting like no other.
(End of Chapter)
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