Author's notes: Fuck the dozens of rewrites already. Have chapter.

  “I think I’ve got it.”

  I watched as the ground beneath Isha darken into rich soil, and green shoots started erupting soon after. Within moments, the little goddess’ divine terraforming flooded outwards, turning gray sor bsted dirt into fertile soil, which in turn became carpeted by soft grass and lush shrubbery. The ground swelled in a few pces, and then water springs burst out, creating streams that snaked through rich soil and barren earth.

  The air changed as well, the thin atmosphere thickening into something far more comfortable for the lungs to take in. Moisture condensed into small clouds, and the first light rains fell on this world to water the divine field as the finishing touches of this picturesque plot of grassnd. Then Isha raised her arms, and vines erupted before her, only to burst and fke away into worms and arachnids and winged insects and other such invertebrates.

  Barely keeping up with the flurry of lines being fired off from Isha, I saw how the Warp effortlessly bent to her will in a way completely different from how the Eldar psykers or even the Emperor channeled their psychic powers.

  Well, almost effortlessly anyway.

  There was a small but noticeable drain on the goddess’ stats. Terraforming not only taxed her will, but it was very slowly sapping her power as well. With barely a thought I redirected some divine power from my harvested faith to top her up. The smol goddess definitely noticed the top-up, as her smile widened.

  “Good work. So, how many more sites would you have to do?” I asked as I reached out and ruffled her hair.

  Isha closed her eyes to enjoy the gesture for the moment before opening them to answer me. “Perhaps…fourteen more lifesprings, and the rejuvenation of this world would be perpetuated without any further assistance.”

  “Hm… How long until terraforming is complete?”

  “No more than eight Nexus standard years to achieve the goal you’ve requested. But by the standards of even the mon- Imperium humans, this world would be comfortably habitable within three.”

  Three years to turn a barely habitable lump of space rock into a world that wouldn’t limit its inhabitants to atmospheric hab-zones and portable air tanks. Eight years for a lush, green paradise.

  Compared to the centuries it’d take for Imperium terraforming tech (we’re still developing our own terraforming factories that were supposed to be for our Mars, so the Nexus shouldn’t even compete).

  I looked at the stats of the pnts and critters infesting the divine gde, and wished I could’ve pulled off such a stunt back when I was starting out.

  God powers for the win.

  “Any issues with exertion?” I asked as I admired the greenery around me.

  The goddess in a child’s body shook her head, the adorable movement cshing with her serious tone of voice. “This current form only limits my abilities, there is no discomfort or side effect otherwise, Sev.”

  “Good, good. We can use terraforming as a sort of training, if you’d like.”

  Isha replied without hesitation and wearing a meek smile. “I would like that, yes.” She looked down to her slender hands, flexing her fingers slowly. “It is…nice, to be able to feel like I am achieving something, however minute the effort is.”

  “A goddess’ ‘minute effort’ is still a miracle to mortals,” I quipped. “Don’t worry about it. Once we crack the metaphysics of refining faith, you’ll be back to your old powerful self again.”

  “Thanks, Sev.”

  I hadn’t messed with the foundations of Isha’s divine makeup, so she’s still a goddess of the Warp who feeds on the belief that seeped from that dimension. And seep’s the right word for it. With how decimated the Eldar are, the faith that sustains and defines her is a fraction of what it once was, even when compared to the leadup to the Fall.

  Theoretically, the echoes of memories in the Warp could serve as a potent boost, sort of like using ashes and embers to warm up a room. The death knell of the Eldar empire had been so great, their st-moment regret amidst soul-draining agony so potent, that in theory, I could revert Isha’s coding and hook her directly back into the Warp and she’d be at least Emprah-level strong.

  That was the theory. In practice, such energies was tainted by Chaos’ corruption - because of course it was. The hold and twisted influence of the Chaos Gods in the Warp is almost uncontestable for the time being. As they’re a malevolent sort, nothing ‘good’ can st in that space for long. Using the previous example of ashes and embers, imagine that they were taken off a toxic burnheap.

  The occultists basically guessed up a variety of outcomes for Isha absorbing faith tainted by the torments of a Chaos God. And considering that said Chaos God is Sanesh, I didn’t want any of that corruption near Isha’s mantle of fertility, nature and all that jazz.

  So my diligent warlocks in Vault Gesserit - along with reluctant Eldar consultants - were still working on figuring out a filter for corrupted faith energies. If push comes to shove, I could give Isha a temporary boost via console, but that sort of thing could risk an overreliance that would tax my not-so-omnipresence. Better to get Isha self-dependent ASAP, so I can leave the Eldar to her.

  Speaking of omnipresence…

  “Come, it’s time to head back. Your handmaidens are beginning to get antsy.”

  Isha giggled as she took my hand and we teleported back to her temple in Commorragh. She quietly walked towards the raised wraithbone throne at the end of the temple, and the crowd parted with hurried grace. I watched their worries literally melt away from divine joy as they basked in her divinity. Smiles and tears of hope spread across the overemotional space elves, and I unmanifested from the pce before they could break out into song.

  At least Isha doesn’t mind the dramatics.

  *****

  “Whoops.” Sev quickly recovered from his stumble with a short shake of his head and a soft mutter. “Gotta work on that…”

  The ruler then returned his attention to the array of consoles before him. “Anyway, as you can see, votes are recorded by the system separately from the residents’ console idents. With the periodical updates instead of real time, we can accurately track the results while maintaining voter anonymity to a healthy degree.”

  Angron nodded in understanding as he took in the glimpse of the Nexus’ administration.

  “Does the voting system not risk bogging down policy enactment?”

  “Eh, a little. But we’ve learned to take it as a sign that the policies presented to the masses require reworking. Adding the feedback section to the voting screen provides a decent insight into what the voters like or don’t about what they’re voting for, and gives our admin staff and interns valuable lessons in governance.”

  “Hm…” Once more, Angron was surprised that the Nexus was able to operate so efficiently despite such a system. Maybe it was because the policies presented were mostly harmless in nature, and Sev held full control over the true powers of his realm. The common Nexus citizen could involve themselves in deciding the minimum age for alcohol consumption, or the censorship of entertainment programs pyed before a certain time, but there was no debating how many of the Nexus’ battle automata were built, or what resources and information were proscribed by the Nexus Unity.

  It was not a bad idea; Giving the people a say in how their more immediate lives were run offered them an illusion of control while also delegating some of the policy administration, while Sev had uncontested control in how critical systems and resources of his pnet would be mobilized and diverted.

  Yes, it was ultimately not the most efficient use of resources to keep the masses pcated, but it worked. That everyone in this world had been recently uplifted from a post-apocalyptic hellhole had probably further helped shape their culture to accept such a system as well.

  Angron kept thoughtfully silent as Sev introduced him to other unique aspects of the Nexus. It has been a very interesting tour so far. The ruler of the Nexus had extended his invitation to offer the primarch and his inner circle a peek into his world, for the sake of ‘transparency’. As Angron went along with the tour, he realized that Sev was showing how life in the Nexus was superior to that of Terra, if not the Imperium as a whole.

  With what he had seen so far, Angron couldn’t argue with that.

  Yes, the popution of Nexus Earth was significantly smaller than that of Terra, but it didn’t require the primarch’s enhanced mind to realize that the content inhabitants here were a result of choices made, not resources spent or hoarded power.

  The first thing Angron was shown was the Museum of Origin in Boston City, which not only chronicled Sev’s rise to power, but also contained the memory-share of various citizens who had lived through each moment. Simply by wearing a helmet with too many wires, Angron had experienced the utter destitution of life in the pre-Nexus wastend, and then the awe and hope of the many changes Sev had wrought.

  In mere seconds, the primarch experienced the pitiful life of a broken sve being healed and welcomed to the nascent Nexus. He shared the tear-filled joy and gratitude of a malnourished parent enjoying with their equally skeletal children what by their standards was an impossibly vish meal that wasn’t tainted by radioactivity. He felt the utter disbelief of a child so numbed by the abuse and apathy of the adults around him when they first received Sev’s gifts, and realized that he truly wanted nothing from them other than for them.

  The awe was especially universal when it came to experiencing the Nexus’ self-sufficiency. Sev did not require anyone to join his military, and he forbade anyone from hard bor. He had countless automata for such roles anyway.

  Every experience Angron lived through also shared an unflinching trust in the ruler of the Nexus as he faced more than just the mundane threats of the wastend. He felt through them the primal fear of things that flitted between the shadows or crawled up from puddles, which turned into relief as Sev and his robots swept the monsters away with a wash of eldritch light and rituals.

  One memory witnessed something rising from the middle of the ocean, a great multi-dimensional city of impossible scale. The unfortunate fisherman’s mind almost broke at witnessing such a sight, but he also managed to see with his own eyes Sev flying literally overhead to engage the winged and tentacled thing that resided in the rising city in a battle of blinding lights and ear-bleeding sounds.

  There were simir experiences of watching Sev personally appear to resolve a situation, even the pettiest thing like cleansing radiation-tainted soil.

  Angron had mulled on how different such awe, such reverence, was from what the humans who stood before his Father felt. There was no sense of oppressive majesty from Sev, even with his eldritch powers he often inspired awe fuelled by disbelief, that a man in a coat could survive a nuclear explosion or sy a beast that threatened reality. That he could truly bring peace through power, as the local proverb went. Where those before the Emperor knelt because of the overwhelming radiance of his psychic aura, Sev’s supplicants knelt because they had experienced the change he had wrought for themselves.

  It was hard not to compare the differences and simirities between the impossibly human ruler of the Nexus and the Emperor of Mankind.

  Both rose to power in a broken world and ultimately united it. Admittedly, the threats the Emperor faced were significantly greater to him, compared to what Sev faced. As he processed the history of the Nexus, Angron came to realize that there was no real existential threat to it or Sev, unlike his Father’s nascent Imperium. There were no warlord states with technological advantages or psychic might that could rival the Nexus like there were on Terra. There was no hurry to produce an army like the Thunder Warriors, not when a handful of Sentinels and Strigoi robots could y waste to entire hordes without suffering damage.

  Sev and his Nexus did not have rivals or enemies, only inconvenient obstacles to be swept aside when their time came.

  And while both Sev and the Emperor had accepted the pledges of loyalties of their surrendered opposition, the imbance of power of the former meant that the politics of vassals were nonexistent. There were no critical allies like the Mechanicum to appease. Accepting Nexus rule meant a complete overhaul of wastend life, where needs and conveniences like food and shelter, energy and infrastructure were fully provided for by the Nexus. Whether one liked it or not. There was no real option of protesting against Sev, not when it risked practically everything one owned. Unlike the Imperium, there was no real risk of insurgency or violent discontent in the Nexus, simply because they couldn’t afford to, nevermind the fact that they couldn’t match the robotic legions Sev fully controlled.

  The contrasts between what he saw and knew had kept Angron mostly silent throughout the tour. The green nds beyond the maglev transport, marked for future development, compared to the frantic industrialization of Terra’s wastends. The automated factories producing essentials and luxuries, instead of the packed manufactorums churning out war materiel to feed the Great Crusade.

  Sev used his absolute power to shape the Nexus Earth into as much of a paradise as he could.

  The Emperor turned Terra into a fortress and war machine to unch his Great Crusade.

  So no, if they had switched pces, Angron didn’t doubt for a second that the outcomes would be the same.

  As the tour exited the administrative office to an underground transport hub, where the waiting train was waiting to take them to a Deathcw Encve. As the primarch and his retinue walked through the clean streets and tunnels of Boston City again, he felt the stares of curiosity and wonder directed at his group.

  The people of the Nexus showed none of the dread the Legiones Astartes were used to receiving from humans. Parents kept their excited children behind the perimeter of Sentinel robots, and Angron’s enhanced senses occasionally picked up muttered comparisons in varying tones of himself and his sons to the yet unencountered ‘super mutants’. The ft surface of some devices were pointed at the group - civilian camera phones according to Sev.

  Angron felt a mix of emotions at realizing that within the Nexus space, where mighty Horus was humbled and the Emperor himself humiliated, he and his World Eaters were treated as little more than curiosities.