The strongest astral army in Warhammer 40K

Deep within the strategic chambers of Terra Palace, a holographic star map slowly rotated in the air, projecting the entire galaxy's war situation onto the cold stone walls. Robert Guilliman stood before the star map, his blue power armor gleaming metallically in the dim light. His brow was furrowed, his fingers unconsciously tapping on a data panel displaying the acceptance rates of the original Forged Space Marines by each chapter—the numbers were alarmingly low.

"Sir, Commander-in-Chief Russell of the Imperial Guard has arrived," a member of the Honor Guard announced at the door.

Killieman looked up, a hint of relief lingering after exhaustion in his eyes. "Let him in."

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, then a figure appeared in the doorway. The Imperial Guard Commander, Russell, wore golden armor etched with ancient oath runes, the Imperial Eagle emblem on his shoulder armor gleaming under the light. In his right hand he gripped a massive sword almost as tall as himself—"Judgment"—its blade shimmering with intricate energy patterns.

“Primarch.” Russell knelt on one knee, his greatsword held vertically before him, its tip lightly touching the ground. “You summoned me.”

“Get up, old friend.” Guilliman waved for him to rise. “We don’t need these formalities between us.”

Russell stood up, his voice steady and powerful beneath his helmet: "By Terra, it is my honor to serve you. What's wrong? I see worry in your expression."

Guilliman gave a wry smile, turning to point at the holographic star map. "See these red markers? Each one represents a loyal chapter that refused to accept reinforcements from the Proto-Forged Space Marines."

On the star map, dozens of red dots of light twinkle throughout the Milky Way, some of which are particularly bright.

“Steel Serpent, Crimson Fist, Night Watch…” Guilliman recited several names, “These chapters have rendered great service to the Empire over the past ten thousand years, yet now they refuse my gift.”

Russell approached the star chart and carefully observed the distribution of the points of light. "What's their reasoning?"

“Tradition!” Guilliman’s voice rose abruptly, then he regained his composure. “They claim that the Proto-Forged Space Marines violated the Emperor’s original Geneseed design, a desecration of the sacred blueprint. The Chapter Master of the Steel Serpent, Togard, even publicly declared that he would rather the Chapter be wiped out than accept ‘Guilliman’s toy soldiers.’”

A low hum came from beneath Russell's visor—the Imperial Guard's specialized communication system was in operation. "I understand the gravity of the situation. But why me? Isn't persuading the warbands to change their traditions the job of political officers?"

Guilliman walked to the tactical table in the center of the strategy room and pulled up a holographic image—a comparison of the physiological structure of a Proto-Forged Space Marine and a traditional Space Marine.

“Because this isn’t a simple political issue, Russell. This is a crisis of faith.” Guilliman’s voice grew heavy. “These chapters consider the Geneseed a sacred legacy, and any alteration is heresy. The Imperial Guard… you are the Emperor’s personal guard, living relics. Your words carry different weight in their ears.”

Russell paused for a moment, the greatsword "Judgment" twirling slightly in his hand, reflecting a cold glint. "What do you wish me to do?"

“I need you to serve as a ‘Primitive Forger Emissary.’” Guilliman pulled up a task list. “Go to these chapters and demonstrate to them the value of Primitive Forgers. Not through orders, but through actions and demonstrations. If necessary…” He paused, “…use your judgment.”

Russell understood the implication. As Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard, he possessed the authority to take command of any Imperial armed force in emergencies. "Which chapter should we begin with?"

“The Steel Serpent.” Guilliman pointed to the brightest red dot on the star map. “They not only refused to accept the Primitive Forged Warriors, but they also detained three squads of apothecaries on their way to resupply. If this rebellion spreads…”

“It will shake the foundations of the empire.” Russell finished his sentence. “I understand. I will depart immediately.”

Guilliman nodded and retrieved a finely crafted metal box from under the tactical table. “Take this. Inside are the Steel Serpent Chapter’s combat logs from the Battle of Cardia, and… their latest analysis report on their genetic seed. This data may be useful if necessary.”

Russell took the metal box and secured it to the magnetic lock at his waist. "Any further instructions, Primarch?"

“You’re back alive, old friend.” Guilliman rarely showed emotion. “The Empire cannot afford to lose a warrior like you.”

Russell knelt on one knee again, his greatsword held horizontally before him. "For the Emperor and the Lord of Mankind."

As Russell left the strategy room, Guilliman's voice came from behind him: "Remember, Russell, the 'judgment' in your hands not only severed the enemy's body, but also cut through the fog that obscured the truth."

…………

The shuttle landed on the main landing platform of the "Snake Nest" fortress, acid rain splashing ripples across the energy shield. As the hatch opened, Russell saw two rows of Steel Serpent warriors already lined up to "greet" him. Their dark green power armor was adorned with silver serpentine patterns, and each warrior gripped their weapon tightly, their eyes beneath their helmets filled with hostility.

“Commander Russell of the Imperial Guard.” The leading soldier removed his helmet, revealing a scarred face—the marks etched by time and war. “I am Company Commander Qasim of the 7th Company of the Steel Serpent. Commander Togard has ordered me to escort you to the audience chamber.”

Russell noticed that Qasim deliberately ignored the five Proto-Forged Space Marines standing behind him. These recruits, dressed in brand-new Mark X power armor and half a head taller than traditional Space Marines, stood silently behind Russell like a silent wall.

“Lead the way, Company Commander Qasim.” Russell’s voice came from inside his helmet, carrying the metallic resonance characteristic of the Imperial Guard. “But remember, you are not only facing the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard, but also Lord Guilliman’s special envoy.”

Qasim's lips twitched slightly as he turned and led them through a deep corridor. The fortress reeked of engine oil and sulfur, and the walls were covered with trophies and portraits of past chapter commanders. Russell noticed that many of the portraits had been deliberately damaged—those chapter commanders had all undergone genetic modification or external supplementation.

The doors to the audience hall were made of two intertwined metal snakes. As Russell and his party approached, the snakes' eyes suddenly lit up with red light, and the doors slowly opened.

The hall was dimly lit, with only a few spotlights illuminating the central throne. Chapter Master Togard sat there, more imposing than the average Space Marine, his long white hair cascading over his shoulder armor, his right eye replaced by a mechanical prosthetic that gleamed with a dangerous red light. Beside him stood Chapter Priest Malhoth and Archsage Hector of the Cult of Mechanics, the latter standing motionless like a metal spider, his body covered in dozens of mechanical tentacles.

“Ah, Guilliman’s lackeys have finally arrived.” Togard’s voice was like sandpaper scraping; he deliberately didn’t rise to salute. “And he brought your toy soldiers with him.”

Russell did not respond immediately. He walked slowly forward, each step accompanied by a heavy thud in his power armor. He stopped when he was ten paces from the throne and reached out to remove his helmet.

Golden light instantly filled the audience hall.

That was the unique psionic radiance of the Imperial Guard, a blessing bestowed upon them by the Emperor himself. Russell's face appeared sacred and majestic in the golden light, his eyes like two miniature stars, causing the Iron Serpent warriors present to involuntarily take a step back.

“Chapter Commander Togard.” Russell’s voice, no longer filtered by his helmet, carried a power that reached the very soul. “I come in the name of the Emperor, bearing a gift to save your Chapter. Is this your way of hospitality?”

Togard abruptly stood up, his power gauntlets, "Steel Devourer," humming menacingly. "A gift? You call those genetically modified monsters gifts?" he pointed at the Primal Forged Warriors. "The genetic seed of the Steel Serpent has been passed down for millennia, pure and flawless! We don't need Guilliman's lab products!"

Russell's eyes gleamed even brighter. "Within three hundred years, your genetic seeds have degenerated at a rate of 37%. At this rate, the Steel Serpent will be unable to maintain normal combat readiness in two centuries." He patted the metal box at his waist. "The data is here. Want to see for yourself the evidence of your impending demise?"

The chapter priest, Malhoth, suddenly stepped forward, slamming his scepter heavily into the ground. "Blasphemy! The Emperor's design is perfect! Any alteration is heresy!"

"Is the Emperor's will to let you perish in your pride?" Russell retorted, while noticing that the Archsage Hector of the Mechanicus remained silent, but an eerie green light occasionally flashed in his eyes.

Togard descended the throne steps until he was almost face to face with Russell. “Listen, Gilgamesh. The Steel Serpent is never threatened. Take your monster and leave, or else—”

"Otherwise what?" Russell suddenly unleashed a psionic shockwave.

Golden energy erupted from him, instantly engulfing the entire audience hall. All the warriors of the Steel Serpent were forced to their knees as if held down by an invisible hand, their power armor systems blaring piercing alarms. Sparks flew from Togard's power gauntlets, and all the mechanical parts malfunctioned. Only the Archsage Hector of the Mechanicus managed to stand, but the mechanical tentacles on his back all curled up, as if he had encountered a natural enemy.

“I can crush you all without ‘judgment,’” Russell’s voice now thunderous, “but that’s not why I’m here.”

He withdrew his psionic suppression, and the Steel Serpent warriors scrambled to their feet, panting. All their weapons were pointed at Russell, but no one dared to fire.

Togard's prosthetic eye spun wildly, revealing his shock and rage. "You...how dare you..."

“I dare, for it is the Emperor’s will.” Russell surveyed his surroundings. “After Lord Guilliman’s resurrection, the Emperor personally showed him the design of the Primalforged Warriors. These recruits are not replacements, but an evolution, designed to combat the ever-growing threat of Chaos.”

The Archsage Hector of the Mechanicus suddenly spoke, his voice like dozens of gears turning simultaneously: "Your Excellency, you make it sound so easy. Alter the sacred gene seed formula? Who knows what...impurities were mixed in?"

Russell's sharp gaze shifted to Hector. "Interesting. I never mentioned a change in the formula, Great Sage. How did you know?"

Hector's mechanical tentacles twitched uneasily. "I...I was just speculating..."

Togard interrupted the dangerous conversation: "Enough! Russell, even if you can suppress us with psionic powers for now, the Steel Serpent will never accept these...these imposters!"

The atmosphere in the audience hall was tense; Russell could feel the vibrations of dozens of explosive rifles locked onto him. Five original Forged warriors had already assumed defensive stances, but their numbers were overwhelming.

At that moment, Russell made a move that surprised everyone.

He unsheathed the "Judgment" greatsword and plunged it heavily into the metal ground. "Since words fail, let's settle this like the Steel Serpent." Russell pointed at Togard, "A duel of honor. You versus me, no weapons, pure flesh and blood. If I win, the Steel Serpent receives reinforcements from the Original Forged Warriors and releases the imprisoned apothecary."

Togard burst into laughter: "Arrogant! What if I win?"

“Then I will personally suggest to Guilliman that the Steel Serpent be added to the ‘Do Not Disturb’ list and that it never be sent to Original Forged Warriors again.”

The chapter chaplain, Marlos, urgently warned, "My lord, don't fall for it! This is a trick by the Imperial Guard!"

But Togard had already taken off his power gloves. "I accept. Let the Emperor witness this fight!"

A space was quickly cleared in the center of the audience hall. Russell removed all his weapons and shoulder armor, wearing only basic power armor. Togard was also lightly armed, but he retained his prosthetic eye—which was clearly more than just a visual aid.

"Begin!" With a command from Company Commander Qasim, Togad charged toward Russell like an enraged rhinoceros.