(Note: This is an interlude, a short chapter that briefly shifts away from the main storyline to show important events elsewhere.)
798.M30
The Thirtieth MillenniumSegmentum Solar, Sol System, Holy TerraAn Indeterminate Time Later
Terra.
Oh, how much meaning was contained within that single word.
The cradle of mankind. The most populous world of humanity, even after countless wars and catastrophes. Though those conflicts had finally begun to fade in recent years, the planet, ravaged by thousands of years of nuclear warfare, had long since ceased to resemble the beautiful garden world it had once been.
In its place remained a barren, polluted wasteland.
A hellscape of deserts, irradiated plains, and poisoned earth.
Had someone possessed the opportunity to observe it from orbit, they would have seen nothing more than a dirty yellow sphere drifting silently through the endless void.
And yet...
It remained humanity's homeworld.
It had become the capital of the Imperium of Man, a civilization only now beginning its ascent.
That ascent had begun with a single event.
One that marked the greatest undertaking in human history since the Dark Age of Technology, which followed the collapse of the Human Federation after the rebellion of the Men of Iron.
The event unfolded somewhere upon the lands once known as Eurasia, a continent whose geography had been irrevocably reshaped by countless nuclear detonations and horrors beyond imagination.
Millions gathered here.
Perhaps even hundreds of millions.
The finest representatives of humanity's civilization.
These were the men and women who had joined the Imperium of Man and risen within its government, noble houses, armies, scientific institutions, and countless other branches of service.
In short...
They were the people who had dedicated themselves, in one way or another, to the state that had conquered Terra and its moon.
The gathering occupied a monstrously vast plaza stretching for hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of kilometers in every direction.
Several entire nations from the end of the Second Millennium could have fit comfortably within its borders.
Instead of countries...
It contained only people.
At this moment, everyone, from the mightiest warriors to the humblest bureaucrats, stood upon their own two feet.
Or four.
In the case of certain members of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
To organize an event on such an unimaginable scale, one capable of bringing together so many people without allowing them to trample one another to death, the fledgling Imperium had deployed its greatest administrators and logisticians.
The purpose of the gathering was simple.
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Every human present was to understand one truth.
All stood equal before the one who had assumed the mantle of ruler over all mankind.
He walked.
And by some unknowable means, His majestic visage was visible to every one of the millions assembled upon that colossal plaza.
The features of His noble face resembled those of the ancient peoples who had once inhabited the wilds of Eurasia.
His skin carried the rich hues of bronze and burnt umber.
His eyes were darker than night itself.
His hair was blacker than the void between the stars, long locks flowing freely behind Him, held in place only by a simple crown of metallic leaves reminiscent of those worn by the dictators of an ancient Terran empire tens of thousands of years before.
He advanced toward the assembled masses.
None dared move beneath the weight of His presence.
He was clad in gold.
His guardians, marching silently behind Him, were clad in gold as well.
The symbols of Terran unity and Imperial sovereignty engraved upon their armor appeared upon His own warplate threefold.
The articulated joints of His armor emitted none of the crude industrial growl characteristic of the mass-produced plate worn by the Imperium's newest transhuman warriors, the Adeptus Astartes.
Instead...
They sang.
A soft mechanical purr born of technologies immeasurably older and infinitely more refined.
Across His back, suspended by a simple strap over a crimson cloak, rested a decorated bolter of black and bronze.
One of His greatest weapons.
Its mere existence provoked endless streams of awestruck binary chatter from every member of the Adeptus Mechanicus present.
Not a single soul gathered there could bring themselves to meet the gaze of such a magnificent being directly.
And yet...
Every one of them felt His eyes upon them.
Evaluating.
Studying.
As though He observed every individual simultaneously.
Both as part of the whole...
And as a person unto themselves.
At last, He came to a halt atop a raised platform that seemed not to have existed only moments before.
His already immense stature appeared to grow even greater.
Even so, it should have been impossible for those standing at the farthest reaches of the plaza to see the Lord of Humanity with perfect clarity.
Yet somehow...
They could.
The explanation offered in later centuries was remarkably simple.
Humanity loved Him so completely...
That everyone could see Him.
"Greetings, people of mankind."
His voice thundered across the plaza.
Majestic.
Powerful.
Every listener heard it with perfect clarity, as though the Master of Mankind stood directly before them.
"A great work has been accomplished. The Unification Wars are over. Terra once more stands united beneath the rule of humanity."
The golden gauntlet of His armor clenched into a mighty fist before Him with a deafening metallic crash.
"The mother of mankind shall be reborn and shine once more beneath the banner of the Imperium of Man. Yet beyond the distant stars, trillions of our kin still groan beneath the rule of tyrants, fools, priests, and xenos. It is our duty, our foremost purpose, to bring them Compliance, to return them to the embrace of the Imperium of Man, and to illuminate them with the light of the Imperial Truth."
His words swept across the gathering like a divine storm.
Charismatic.
Inspiring.
Penetrating to the very marrow of every listener.
Goosebumps raced across countless bodies, from the humblest bureaucrat to the machine-minded adepts of the Mechanicum who had come to behold the Omnissiah Himself.
Even the magnificent Adeptus Custodes stood transfixed.
"O Humanity!"
His proclamation echoed across Terra.
"We shall rise to the stars and reach every suffering human world! We shall unite every man, woman, and child beneath the banner of the Imperium of Man! Therefore, for these purposes, and these purposes alone, I hereby declare the beginning of the Great Crusade!"
As He spoke, His arm rose toward the heavens.
Toward the stars.
His clawed fingers closed into a magnificent golden fist with another resounding crash.
A heartbeat later...
The plaza erupted.
Millions upon millions of voices roared as one.
The sheer majesty of His presence and the irresistible authority carried within His voice permitted no other response.
At that moment, every human present felt an overwhelming desire to reclaim every lost member of their species.
To free them from the chains of false faiths.
From ignorance.
From alien masters.
To bring them home.
To the Imperium.
Indulging the aspirations of His people, the Emperor of Mankind moved with effortless purpose.
In a single fluid motion, He drew a sword.
It was not the sort of blade immortalized in triumphal murals or romanticized heroic sagas.
By the standards of Terra's kings and lords, it was unquestionably magnificent.
Yet within the hand of the ruler of an entire species...
It appeared strangely plain.
Not an ornament.
Not a symbol.
A weapon.
A tool fashioned for war.
For bloodshed.
An impossibly intricate latticework of black and copper-red traced its length across silver so brilliant it shimmered with an almost sapphire hue.
Within moments of concluding His brief, yet profoundly stirring speech, the blazing sword rose toward the heavens.
Its tip pointed beyond Terra.
Beyond the Sol System.
Toward the distant stars.
Toward the destiny of the Great Crusade.
Toward the galaxy itself.