Warhammer 40k : Starting as a Primarch

The Battle Sister felt a faint connection to the will of the Emperor and the Primarch through the dazzling golden script before her.

This put her on guard.

She had no other choice but to proceed. After confirming her decision with her consciousness—

Squeak——

A piercing sound erupted, like countless nails scraping against a chalkboard in unison. The noise carried a particular frequency so dissonant that it could incapacitate an average citizen of the Imperium instantly.

The moment the Battle Sister heard it, her hair stood on end, and her toes curled instinctively. Fortunately, her rigorous training in willpower and her exceptional mental fortitude allowed her to endure.

"For humanity!"

She prayed silently to the Emperor, steeling herself against the unbearable sound.

For five excruciating hours, her entire body remained tense, muscles locked in a battle against the invasive noise. The first half was sheer agony, survived only through clenched teeth and unwavering resolve.

Gradually, in the latter half, the sharp and jarring frequency softened. It transformed into something soothing—like a lullaby brushing against her soul. Despite the gentler tone, her body resisted sleep, her eyelids twitching uncontrollably.

Finally, the sound ceased altogether.

Her vision blackened.

When she opened her eyes, confusion flooded her mind.

"Huh? What is this place?"

A scrolling text screen appeared before her:

"There are already more than 500 members. Did you all come here because of that sound?"

"Of course. For the Imperium, we fear no test."

"What are your real identities? I'll start. I'm a Sister of Battle, a nun from the Ecclesiarchy."

"Imperial Guard."

"Planetary Defense Force."

"Adeptus Mechanicus."

A moment of silence followed.

"Can we really save the Imperium?"

"We've been gathered here, but what comes next? I'm willing to sacrifice everything for humanity!"

The Battle Sister's breathing quickened as she stared at the messages.

At that moment, realization struck her—this strange audio had linked her mind with countless others! She couldn't fathom the mechanics behind it, but an undeniable hope took root in her heart.

Perhaps—just perhaps—it was truly possible to save the Imperium from its endless darkness.

As time passed, more people joined this mysterious Heart Network, and its computational power grew exponentially.

Twelve hours after its initial activation, the network had connected over five hundred individuals. It might not seem like much, but for Dukel, this surpassed all expectations.

He had built the Heart Network with two layers of safeguards:

Loyalty to Humanity – Only those with unwavering faith in the Emperor and humanity could establish a stable connection. Mental Resilience – The sharp, dissonant frequency served as a trial by fire. Only those with sufficient willpower or neurological enhancements could endure it without breaking.

Those who failed would wake up with no recollection, dismissing the experience as an odd, unexplainable dream.

For those who succeeded, Dukel retained absolute authority over their minds. He could freely browse their life memories, modify their subconscious, and ensure that no agents of the Ruinous Powers infiltrated the network.

The Heart Network was still in its infancy, and Dukel approached its development cautiously.

"The connection count is growing rapidly. It's time to expand our reach," he mused.

"We can calculate visualization techniques and distribute them. By strengthening their spiritual power, these individuals can contribute more computing capacity while resisting the influence of the Chaos Gods."

"Perhaps this could even serve as the foundation for rebuilding the Second Legion."

Dukel's thoughts drifted to the Second Legion, the one Primarch Guilliman had abandoned long ago due to its flawed gene-seed. Though Guilliman once considered resurrecting the legion during the Horus Heresy, the genetic instability had made it impossible.

As the genetic father of the Second Legion, Dukel wondered if he shared the same defects. However, despite the vast gaps in his memory, he hadn't noticed any abnormalities in himself.

Still, caution dictated his actions. Using the Heart Network to rebuild the legion might offer a safer, more stable alternative.

Dukel worked tirelessly at his desk, sketching ideas on scraps of parchment.

For three sleepless nights, he refined his theories.

Finally, as dawn broke, he exhaled deeply. Despite his enhanced physique, even he felt the weight of exhaustion—but his eyes burned with determination.

"Meditation or visualization can truly strengthen the mind and will," he whispered.

With the Heart Network's computational power, Dukel had devised a method of spiritual visualization, a technique to cultivate immense mental strength—or spiritual power.

The essence of this method lay in using specific mental exercises to grow one's spiritual energy. Over time, this energy could manifest as a tangible force, capable of influencing the physical world.

For instance:

Untouchables (those immune to the Warp) could use this energy to expand anti-Warp zones.

Tech-Priests could deepen their connection with machine spirits.

Psykers could resist Warp corruption, maintaining control over their immense powers.

If mastered, the visualization method could turn ordinary humans into formidable warriors capable of combating the Warp itself.

"The first step is to choose a visualization object," Dukel thought aloud.

Most visualization techniques from his previous life involved gods or deities. But here, choosing the wrong object could prove catastrophic.

"If someone visualizes Slaanesh, it might doom an entire planet."

The Emperor was a tempting choice, but risky. As a being of immense Warp power, visualizing him could accelerate his awakening—and that would be… problematic.

Then an idea struck Dukel.

"Why not use myself?"

He recalled his own Warp projection—the wildfire burning uncontrollably within the Immaterium. As a Primarch, he carried the essence of the Warp, making him a fitting and safer choice.

Using his own subspace projection as the focal point, Dukel could ensure complete control over any risks.

His decision was made.

"Let's begin."