2nd Primarch

Ring the bell once, push the lever, activate the piston, and pump...

Ring the bell twice, press the button, start the engine, ignite the turbine, inject life...

Ring the bell three times, sing in unison, and praise the God of All Machines!

In the foundry, vast and majestic as a city, the bells rang as mechanical priests chanted in unison.

Dukel entered, accompanied by the great sage Gris.

Shortly after the Primarch's revival, he had shared knowledge derived from the Heart Network's computational power with the great mechanical sage. Today marked the time to inspect the fruits of their labor.

Over the past year, Gris had journeyed across many worlds, scouring for technologies and materials to bring this vision to life. He had labored tirelessly, modifying and upgrading based on the Primarch's designs.

The effort was monumental, but it was worth it. Now, Gris felt immense pride as he presented his masterpiece before the Primarch.

"Thank you for your hard work, Gris. To complete such a magnificent creation in so short a time exceeds my expectations," Dukel said with genuine admiration.

Even on Mars, the sacred forge world, constructing or modifying a warship of this magnitude would take decades.

"This is all thanks to the knowledge you granted me," Gris replied modestly before adding, "The wisdom you possess is beyond comprehension, Your Highness. It is as if you are the incarnation of the Omnissiah Himself."

Gris led Dukel to inspect the flagship of the expedition, named Soul Fire by the Primarch himself.

Soul Fire, one of two Queen of Glory-class battleships, was to serve as the expedition's flagship and Dukel's personal vessel.

Even though Dukel knew its specifications, seeing the ship in person left him awestruck.

At 28 kilometers in length, Soul Fire was second only to the Indomitable Truth of the Dark Angels. Its streamlined hull resembled a colossal spinning shuttle. Equipped with the most advanced plasma reactor known to the Imperium, its power output could theoretically sustain two smaller Queen of Glory-class ships simultaneously.

This immense power drove unparalleled weaponry. Gris had scavenged and upgraded weaponry from across the Mechanicus' holdings, creating a truly fearsome arsenal:

Two over-standard Nova Cannons.Four Yellow Spring Bombardment Cannons, mounted below the prow ram.Macro-cannon arrays for devastating broadsides.A network of precise light lance arrays, capable of annihilating unshielded ships in seconds.

Coupled with void shields far exceeding standard capacity, Soul Fire embodied both offensive and defensive superiority.

Even with the memories of a Primarch, Dukel could not help but marvel.

Meanwhile, on Murfa: The Unyielding Front

The sun scorched the desert, endless dunes stretching into the horizon. Behind a cluster of jagged rocks, a squad of Space Marines lay in wait.

Five hundred meters ahead stood a monstrous red figure: a Vanguard of Khorne.

"The intel was wrong. It's a Khorne Vanguard."

"Under no circumstances should we engage in melee combat. Use ranged weapons and set traps," ordered the veteran leading the squad, his voice heavy through his power armor's vox.

But as they prepared to act, a lone figure emerged from the desert.

It was a woman—a Penitent Sister, to be exact.

Her body was scarred and exposed, with no power armor to shield her from the punishing sun. Needles pierced her flesh at her neck, back, shoulders, and thighs, each injecting fluorescent liquids.

Her every step betrayed the agony of punishment, yet she advanced without hesitation.

The veteran quickly recognized her.

"Shivara," he muttered, anger lacing his tone.

Once a Sister of Battle, she had caused the death of an entire company of Space Marines during a disastrous war. Her guilt drove her to accept the path of the Penitent Sister.

The veteran signaled a warning: the Vanguard was ahead. She should retreat.

But Shivara ignored him, rushing headlong toward the demon.

"By the Emperor, is she insane?"

"She doesn't even have armor!"

The Vanguard moved to intercept, its massive blade cleaving through her unprotected body with ease. Blood and shattered organs spilled onto the sands, painting a macabre scene.

Yet Shivara pressed forward, grasping the Vanguard's wrist.

With each movement, the needles in her body injected adrenaline, hormones, and unknown substances into her bloodstream. Her bio-magnetic field surged: 10,000… 20,000… 30,000 horsepower.

Her skin cracked, her muscles stretched to their limits, and blood poured freely.

And still, it wasn't enough.

With a roar, she plunged a syringe into her heart.

"Die in the glory of the Emperor, heretic!"

Her bio-magnetic field soared to an astonishing 50,000 horsepower.

With superhuman strength, Shivara delivered a bone-shattering punch to the Vanguard's chest, obliterating its heart.

The demon collapsed, lifeless.

The Space Marines watched in stunned silence.

A Penitent Sister had slain a Khorne Vanguard with her bare hands.

Ignoring her grievous wounds, Shivara crudely severed the remnants of her intestines, patched herself up, and continued into the desert.

"Shivara, wait!" the veteran finally called out.

She stopped, her bloodied fist clenched before relaxing again.

"I know my sins, brother," she said without turning. "And I will spend my life atoning for them. Do not worry—I will kill no one else."

"But why return to the battlefield?" he demanded.

She paused, then replied softly:

"My Lord's mission."