The Imperial state religion was something Nolan had spent considerable effort avoiding.
The reasons were not difficult to articulate. Organized faith in the Imperium's history had a consistent pattern: it began as genuine devotion and ended as an institution capable of generating fanaticism that no commanding authority could reliably redirect. The Emperor had understood this. It was one of the more coherent threads in his reasoning when he had moved to eliminate organized religion during the early Crusade. The ignorance it protected people in, and the way it resisted correction from outside, made it a liability that scaled with its own success.
But Nolan had also spent enough time in proximity to Chaos to understand the other half of the calculation.
The only weapon the Imperium of Man possessed that functioned reliably against the corruption of the Ruinous Powers was belief. Not firepower, not superior numbers, not genetic enhancement, though all of those mattered. The thing that actually held when Chaos pressed against a person's soul was the anchor of something they had committed themselves to completely. Loyalty to the Emperor. Faith in something larger than survival. Without it, Chaos simply waited for the gap.
Pietro's survival was not a coincidence. It was evidence. The Emperor had demonstrated what a channel of genuine faith could accomplish in a body not enhanced by gene-seed, not protected by vibranium, not carrying any of the advantages that Nolan's people had been accumulating. A speedster from Sokovia, twenty-some years old, with no theological training, had held against a plague that had converted everyone around him. The Emperor had used what was available.
Nolan could work with that.
The structure he had in mind was specific: a state religion that was controllable because it was built to be controllable from the beginning, and extremely loyal because Pietro himself was exactly that. The critical separation was between the faith and the rest of the organization. Fanatical belief could not be allowed to bleed into the Lamenters' chain of command, the Stormtrooper companies, or any of the operational planning processes. Pietro's congregation would be his own domain, developed independently, with that independence being both a test of his capability and a firewall between devotion and command.
There was also a piece of this that Nolan could admit was something other than purely strategic. A supersonic speedster as the first pope of an Imperial state religion was going to produce situations that were genuinely difficult to avoid. Very few people could outrun a dedicated sermon.
He had noted this to himself and moved on, because there were more immediate things requiring attention.
David had retrieved Pietro's full file from the Wehrmacht Guards' records after learning his identity. The secondary finding in that file had stopped Nolan for a moment: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro's sister, was an Alpha-level psyker operating without any formal training or supervision. She had been developing her abilities under Doom's informal guidance in Latveria, practicing in low-stakes applications, learning control. She was already on a transport to the Twin Islands base. Doom would take over formally when he returned.
An Alpha-level psyker in his organization, already present, already partially developed, already committed. The timing of that discovery coming immediately after Pietro was not something Nolan chose to analyze too closely.
The withdrawal from Uttar Pradesh happened in stages over the following days.
S.P.E.A.R.'s specialist team departed first. Tony had been spending his available time in close consultation with Raditus about specific material properties and manufacturing tolerances, and the moment the operational requirements allowed it he was gone: back to Stark Tower, where a new suit was waiting to be built and the Tribunal needed to be expanded before the next large-scale crisis produced a situation that a small group of exceptional individuals could not cover. The logic was sound and Nolan did not object to it.
Thor left for Asgard. Two reasons, stated plainly: he wanted to see Odin and his mother, and he wanted to propose stationing Asgardian warriors on Earth in some formal capacity. An Asgardian force integrated into the Guardians of Terra's broader network would add a category of capability that no amount of materiel and training could replicate. Whether Odin would permit it was a separate question, and one that Nolan was content to leave entirely to Thor. Facing the Allfather with any kind of agenda of his own was not something Nolan was prepared to do until he was considerably stronger. Odin was old in a way that most things that called themselves old were not.
Professor Hulk remained until the last of the operational requirements were resolved, and then shifted back into Banner's form for the first time in weeks. The human frame that stood there afterward was visibly exhausted in the way that the Hulk's had not been, and Banner himself had the careful stillness of someone who had been somewhere very loud for a long time and was adjusting to the quiet.
He had intended to leave alone.
The Guardians of Terra's shift in public perception from designated terrorist organization to something more complicated, combined with Nolan's sustained and entirely sincere offer of unlimited research resources and institutional protection, eventually wore through Banner's reservations. The man was brilliant and broke and had spent years running. What Nolan was offering was a laboratory, supplies, and the absence of pursuit. For someone with Banner's specific set of problems and interests, that was not a condition that could be easily refused once it had been clearly stated.
Banner officially joined the team.
Nolan boarded the Thunderhawk back to Twin Islands alone for the first time in weeks, and in the quiet of the flight pulled up the simulator.
The Chaos Gods' Holy Numbers had resumed their countdown now that Nurgle's blessing was resolved, ticking forward with the patient inevitability of something that was not in any hurry because it had no concept of loss. Watching them move was not comfortable.
He turned the problem over.
The answer was already present in what he knew. Time in the Warhammer universe stopped the countdowns entirely. The ratio was ten to one. Every month spent in the Imperium cost only three days here. If he could arrange his presence such that he spent the minimum necessary time in the native world, cycling through support missions and extended operational deployments in Warhammer space, the Holy Numbers could be held at manageable levels indefinitely.
The coverage problem was solvable. The team had developed enough autonomous capacity that operations continued without him issuing every order. David managed the coordination and the logistics and the intelligence. The various factions and individuals within the organization understood their roles and tasks. A Primarch's direct presence was not required for the daily work.
What he needed was a reliable communications link on the Warhammer side.
He sent the supply shipment to the Carcharodons through the simulator and included the letter in the same packet.
Twin Islands greeted the returning transports with the organized activity of a base that had not stopped working while its commanding figure was deployed elsewhere. Nolan's boots hit the landing pad and he exchanged a few words with David before turning toward the circular plaza. Doom, cloak moving in the Antarctic wind, was already walking the other direction, looking for Wanda among the arriving personnel.
Nolan reached the circular plaza and waited. Nothing opened. He noted this and walked to the hall to find David instead, laying out the broad shape of his plan: rotating presence between the two universes, minimal native world exposure during the countdown active periods, simulator and prayer support testing in the Warhammer environment. David listened without interrupting. When Nolan finished, David confirmed his understanding and his support.
For the next several days, Nolan returned to the circular plaza at intervals. He sent further communications. He waited.
The crack appeared without additional warning: a familiar distortion in the air above the plaza floor, the vibration of displaced reality resolving into an opening. An Astartes in iron-grey power armor stepped through it and onto the stone, dropped to one knee in the same motion, and removed the helmet.
The eyes were dark and the teeth were sharp and serrated in the way that set Carcharodons apart from every other Astartes lineage by sight alone. The expression underneath all of that was something closer to barely contained pride.
"Carcharodons Astra, Lexicanium Ukari, reporting to the Primarch!"
Nolan crossed the plaza and stopped in front of him.
"Rise. How is your Chapter Master? How does the Chapter fare?"
Ukari stood. The barely contained pride resolved into something more openly pleased.
"Lord Primarch, the Chapter has never been stronger. The Chapter Master is well. We recently engaged and killed a Hive Tyrant and repelled several tendrils of a Tyranid splinter fleet." He paused with the timing of someone who had something they wanted to say next and had been waiting for the right moment. "Did Tyberos explain the specifics of what you need from me?"
"He did."
"Then: it is my highest honor as an Astartes to serve as a permanent Lexicanium in the Primarch's household. I will maintain the information channel between your operations and the Chapter without any failure. You will not miss anything on account of me."