The chamber echoed with the sound of awakening. A million warriors stirred from their long sleep, the crystalline sarcophagi now empty husks. Each Batchinus was a masterpiece of genetic engineering, honed for centuries beyond human comprehension. Their eyes glowed with the faint light of purpose, scanning, waiting.
Yash stepped forward, the system guiding every motion:
[Primarch Interface: Online]
[Batchinus Status: 1,000,000 units]
[Combat Readiness: 98%]
[Strategic Analysis: Active]
"Primarch," a deep voice rumbled, belonging to a towering Astartes who had already risen, his armor etched with archaic runes of unknown origin. "We have waited long. Your command?"
Yash inhaled. The power coursing through him was intoxicating, yet the system reminded him of the responsibility:
[Decision Input Required: Assign First Unit Commanders?]
He reached out mentally, connecting with the minds of his Batchinus. Unlike standard Astartes, they responded to thought, to intent. A million consciousnesses resonated with his, ready to obey, ready to act.
"Yes," he said aloud, his voice steady. "I am Primarch of the Bridgemen. Today, we awaken not merely to fight, but to protect the Imperium. Form ranks. Prepare for deployment. Your loyalty will not be tested—it will be absolute."
The system chimed softly: [Command Protocol: Executed]
In unison, the Batchinus knelt, then rose, forming perfect formations at impossible speed. Yash observed their movements, his mind calculating—thousands of combinations of formations, weapons, and strategies. The system fed him data in real-time: battlefield simulations, enemy likelihoods, Warp interference probabilities.
"Primarch," another voice spoke, tinged with curiosity, "the Great Crusade marches across the galaxy. Should we awaken fully or remain covert until the Emperor commands?"
The system responded even before Yash could speak: [Recommendation: Gradual Activation Optimal; Risk Assessment: Low]
He nodded. "We awaken gradually. The galaxy must not know we exist—yet. Prepare squads for reconnaissance, for rapid response, and for defense of strategic worlds. Begin with the Forge Worlds nearest the Eastern Fringe."
A thousand Astartes bowed in acknowledgment. Each unit's bio-signs, combat stats, and loyalty metrics appeared before him as holographic readouts within the system interface.
[Unit Readiness: 100%]
[Warp Contamination Risk: Minimal]
[Deployment ETA: Immediate]
The first squads moved with terrifying precision, bolters slung, chainswords humming, all perfectly attuned to Yash's commands. It was as if one mind guided a million warriors.
Yet even as the Rim Reapers marched into a galaxy unaware of their presence, Yash felt the weight of destiny pressing down. One million warriors at his command, the Emperor's contingency in motion, and the shadows of the Warp creeping ever closer.
He flexed his armored hands and activated the system's combat simulation:
[Enemy Threat Analysis: Chaos Cults, Xenos Raiders, Subspace Anomalies]
[Predicted Engagement Success: 97%]
[Adaptive Tactics: Recommended]
A smile touched his lips, faint but deliberate. The war—the real war—was beginning, and now he had both a million warriors and a system to guide them. The galaxy would soon remember the Rim Reapers, and the Primarch of the Bridgemen would shape its fate.
And somewhere, in the dark corners of the Warp, unseen eyes were already watching.