The power station on Chemos had a very ancient technological source.

Tracing back, this cogitator, originating from the Human Emperor's Old Night era technology, symbolized the unimaginable heights to which human civilization had once ascended.

The Old Night refers to the period when humanity, relying on its own technology, roamed the star sea.

However, as the Warp storms intensified, communication and transportation between different human star sectors, star systems, and planets were severely hampered, and a large number of technologies and creations were lost.

Human civilization was thus scattered among the stars, with some even regressing directly to a primitive era.

Chemos was one of these constantly declining civilizations.

If it weren't for the Gene-Seed Primarch Fulgrim descending upon this planet, it's highly likely that in the near future, the human civilization here, along with its ancient technology, would have been buried beneath the cold yellow sands.

And saving these human civilizations scattered among the stars was the responsibility of the Human Emperor, the Gene-Seed Primarch, Kasga, and every human.

But, Kasga.

Are you truly human?

......

Kasga silently looked at the red text on the display, which was exploding even more than Ahriman's.

An unexpected situation had arisen.

His genes could not be identified by the Cogitator.

What did this mean?

Either the machine itself was malfunctioning, or Kasga's human content, like a Gene-Seed Primarch's, was mixed with too much Warp essence.

But if that were truly the case, why had he never felt different in these twenty years?

Kasga, as a pure and unmutated human, for the first time doubted his own identity.

He might be human, but it was also a bit unlikely that he was human.

......

Gene identification successful!

The Cogitator's breakdown did not last too long.

Somehow, it suddenly recovered from its state of spewing chaotic codes, instantly returning to normal.

The green light flashed brightly, and it operated smoothly.

As if nothing had happened.

“Is…is it fixed?”

Fulgrim, who was about to start repairing again, was momentarily flustered.

“Just now…was the machine acting up?”

Fulgrim, who had not yet returned to the Imperium, did not have the concept of a Machine Spirit in her knowledge base.

Facing such an illogical error, and an even more illogical recovery, she could only try her best to explain it.

“Perhaps, it might be that this Cogitator is too old, causing some poor contact with the identification interface,” Kasga echoed.

“Exactly.”

“The inability to identify my genes earlier was probably the same problem.”

“That’s right, that’s right, we are clearly all humans!”

“It’s all this old Cogitator’s fault…causing such strange malfunctions and making us paranoid.”

The two, tactfully and in unison, blamed the only silent entity present.

......

Administrator privileges acquired.

Attempting to retrieve power cabin management privileges…

Progress was very smooth after activating administrator privileges.

“It’s been a long time since it was this convenient,” Fulgrim exclaimed.

“When I was repairing the fortress system on Karrakis before, the nobles were constantly wary of whether I would gain administrative control of the fortress.”

“Not only did they restrict me from restoring various functions of the fortress, but once I successfully repaired certain facilities within the fortress, they would frantically demand that I hand over the authority for them to manage.”

Saying this, Fulgrim helplessly pouted.

The old ruling clan system was complex and intricate, and she was forced to navigate and guide within it.

What was it that turned the nobles, who should have been noble, into what they are now?

“That feeling, it’s like…”

“It’s like a stingy miser, even on his deathbed, still fixated on petty gains, unwilling to let go even knowing he is unworthy of his position,” Kasga replied, watching the fields scroll rapidly across the Cogitator.

“Indeed.”

“That’s a very vivid description, Kasga.”

Fulgrim pressed the button one last time.

“Alright, although the power station is severely damaged, there are still several units currently in a good, dormant state.”

“It’s not difficult to reactivate the dormant power units; as long as the corresponding high-purity Promethium fuel can be added, they can operate again.”

“Promethium fuel? And high-purity?”

Kasga was startled: “Where can we find that?”

In the Warhammer world, most spaceships and power devices operate using Promethium as fuel.

This abandoned power station was no exception.

But after Chemos experienced a long period of civilizational decline, the planet’s already scarce high-purity Promethium had been completely depleted thousands of years before they were born.

Even if the planet’s underground mines still contained a large amount of unmined Promethium Ore, for the two of them to build the corresponding detection, mining, separation, and refining technologies from scratch would truly be a pipe dream.

Even if a Primarch could do it with her innate abilities, they didn't have that much time.

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?”

Fulgrim calmly pointed into the distance.

There, under the focused beam of the spotlight, lay the remains of a pale purple cabin.

“This vicinity is where I descended into the world back then.”

......

Twenty years ago.

A purple comet came from the horizon and landed in the mountains.

“It’s here again…last time…male…”

“Golden light…fire…”

Accompanied by intermittent grumbling, the footsteps of the three approached, and one of them let out a female gasp.

“…A child, Colin.”

“This time it’s a baby girl.”

Silence lasted for a moment, followed by the sound of a knife being drawn from its sheath.

“What are you doing, Surax? Put the knife down!”

“She’s an orphan; by the rules, we must kill her.”

“But she clearly…”

“Move aside, Toleria. Unlike those noble lords, we don’t have the resources to raise a bastard; she’ll become a burden to us.”

“No, give her to me!”

Scrambling, cursing.

Noisy footsteps, clamorous shouting.

Bang!

A gun fired, and a person fell into a pool of blood.

Water gurgled, a liquid, whether blood or primordial water, flowed silently.

Everything returned to peace.

......

The recorded segment ends here.

Originating from the purple chamber where she descended into the world, it came with a recording function, and everything was replayed as images on the Cogitator.

Kasga knew that this purple wreckage was the Gene-Seed Primarch’s incubation pod.

“The two workers you saw who decided to adopt me were my adoptive parents, Toleria and Colin.”

“Soon after my birth, I hid this cabin wreckage.”

“Since then, I’ve been studying its structure, hoping one day to figure out my true identity.”

“But the technological level it contained was far beyond my comprehension,” Fulgrim’s voice carried a hint of frustration.

“However, it wasn’t entirely fruitless.”

Saying this, she took out a transparent fuel canister, still half-filled with liquid, from the wreckage.

“Holy Promethium.”

“An interesting name. But the purity is indeed worthy of the word ‘Holy’.”

Fulgrim smiled faintly.

“Get ready, Kasga.”

“It’s time to reclaim everything that belongs to us.”