Chapter 9: Rebellion
Across a dim, desolate plain, artillery thunder rolled without pause.
Tracer fire stitched the darkness. Explosions churned the earth into fire and mud.
Thunder Warriors advanced through the barrage, their grenade launchers roaring in rhythmic cadence.
"Unity! Unity! Unity!"
Their battle-chant echoed through the smoke as they unleashed relentless fire upon the Emperor's enemies.
They were gene-forged monsters — towering warriors clad in brutal warplate, each wielding heavy weapons with terrifying ease. Their cognitive conditioning favored aggression and shock assault, yet none present would mistake them for mindless beasts.
They were weapons shaped into men.
At the center of the battlefield — where resistance was fiercest — severed limbs arced through the air before falling like crimson rain.
Yuki fought at the spearpoint.
A blade in each hand, she moved like a storm given form. Enemies broke before her as if made of dry reeds. Each stroke carved a path through armor, flesh, and weapon alike. Incoming fire and shrapnel seemed unable to touch her; she evaded death with fluid, almost dance-like precision.
"Follow Her Highness!"
Usotan's voice boomed across the field. Thunder Warriors surged forward through the breach Yuki had torn open, saturating the flanks with devastating fire.
Not far from the battlefield, atop the walls of a small city-state, its ruler watched her advance.
"…Is it too late to surrender?" he asked hoarsely.
He had never aspired to greatness. His ambition extended only to ruling his modest domain in peace, avoiding the wars of greater powers.
Days earlier, a communication had arrived — a woman claiming to be an Imperial princess, inviting him to join the Imperium.
He had scoffed.
An empire? So what? You want my territory? Over my corpse.
Then Yuki arrived.
At first he remained confident.
My cyborg legions are invincible.
They died.
Rapidly.
Horribly.
"Is that… even human?"
Watching his forces cut down like livestock, the city lord had turned to flee.
When he turned, his heart nearly stopped.
The unstoppable figure from the battlefield now stood before him.
She was impossibly tall.
Radiant.
Beautiful.
Not human.
Yuki smiled.
Under normal circumstances, such a smile would have captivated everyone present.
Now, streaked with blood and battlefield grime, it sent a chill through every spine.
"Greetings, Lord Landis," she said gently. "We finally meet. I am Yuki, daughter of the Emperor, Imperial Princess, and commander of the Imperial expeditionary force. We spoke previously. Perhaps the lack of a personal meeting made our conversation… less cordial. Now we may speak properly."
"Haha… Your Highness… a misunderstanding. Entirely a misunderstanding."
She placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face the battlefield below.
Thunder Warriors stood in silent formation beneath the walls.
As for his cyborg army—
Only scattered remains lay across the distant plain.
The anger drained from Landis like water from a broken vessel.
He inhaled slowly.
"The city-state of Landis submits to the Imperium. From this day forward, we serve at your command."
"Excellent. Imperial administrators will arrive shortly," Yuki replied. "You governed well; your people live decently under your rule. Your position will remain unchanged — you may even see advancement. Continue your good work."
She patted his shoulder, then stepped from the twenty-meter wall.
Her wings unfurled.
She descended lightly, landing among the Thunder Warriors like a falling feather.
The warriors parted instantly to clear her path.
"Usotan, dispatch a procurement team. The rest of you — withdraw."
They arrived in violence.
They departed in silence.
Efficiency. Discipline. Lethality.
This was the army's reputation.
Yuki listened to reports while flipping through a technical manuscript.
She intended to change the fate of the Thunder Warriors.
She had questioned the Emperor repeatedly. He had not concealed the truth: their genetic degradation was inevitable. He had granted her permission to attempt a solution.
The problem?
She had no idea where to begin.
So she studied.
Relentlessly.
She devoured the Emperor's original gene-forge notes, biomechanical schematics, and augmentation protocols.
At this rate, she might go bald.
And that wasn't even the end of it.
When the Astartes emerged, she would need to help stabilize their gene-lines as well — unless she wanted future demigods turning traitor out of biological instability.
There would be no customer service department to complain to.
"Your Highness," an officer reported, "news from the Indonesian Federation."
Yuki closed her book.
"Report."
"Archbishop Tang has deployed military forces to suppress unrest. However, uprisings in the lower hive levels are spreading beyond control."
Her fingers tapped the table.
"Transmit orders: all southern Imperial detachments that have completed operations are to redeploy immediately. Units able to finish quickly will do so; those unable are to disengage. Maintain minimal defensive garrisons only. Concentrate all remaining forces here."
She continued:
"Inform our agents to spread word that Imperial territories enjoy peace and stability, and that the Emperor is wise and benevolent. Prepare equipment. We attack when the moment presents itself."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Around her stood the commanders of the 4th, 6th, 12th, 13th, and 19th Thunder Legions.
Yuki smiled.
"Be patient, warriors. The victory we await is approaching."
Indonesian Federation — Hive Apex
Archbishop Tang stared down from towering windows, his expression dark.
He did not know when the rot began.
Why did the populace dare resist him?
How dare they?
Explosions flickered far below like sparks. From this height, even devastation appeared insignificant.
The army had begun suppression operations.
Ordinarily, riots dissolved quickly beneath disciplined force.
Today, the soldiers' arrival only intensified the fury of the oppressed.
The people wanted only survival.
An ordinary life.
Tang's rule had denied even that.
If death was inevitable, they would choose a meaningful one.
Armed with improvised weapons, they pushed back trained troops.
But they did not intend merely to resist.
They intended to end him.
Tang watched his forces falter.
"What are they doing? They cannot even suppress vermin? Useless! Idiotic!"
"No, Archbishop."
Tang turned.
The servant behind him — one who should have remained invisible — met his gaze.
There was no fear in his eyes.
No rage.
Only calm certainty.
"This is not a rebellion," the servant said.
"This is a revolution."