The violet surface of the Nether Portal rippled like water.
Roya stepped out first.
A wave of scorching heat rushed toward him.
Titus, Kahn, and three veteran Lamenters clad in gray-white Indomitable Terminator Armor followed close behind.
The five Space Marines immediately raised their Grenade Launchers, sweeping the surroundings with practiced precision.
Then…
They froze.
There were no daemons.
No whispers from the Warp.
No corrupting psychic presence.
Instead…
A vast crimson world stretched endlessly before them.
The ceiling was formed entirely from dark-red Netherrack.
The ground beneath their feet was made of the same material.
Not far away…
An enormous lava sea extended toward the horizon.
Instead of flowing naturally, the lava cascaded downward in perfectly square layers.
Crimson ash drifted silently through the air.
“…By the Emperor.” Titus slowly lowered his weapon.
“This place completely ignores the laws of physics.” Kahn stomped heavily on the ground.
The Netherrack echoed with a dull, solid sound.
Roya casually pulled an Iron Pickaxe from his inventory.
“Put away your weapons.” “We’re here to gather resources.” “Not to fight.” “Our target is Nether Quartz.” He pointed toward a nearby cliff face.
Several blocks of Nether Quartz Ore were embedded within the rock.
Without another word…
The five Space Marines slung their Grenade Launchers onto their backs.
Square Iron Pickaxes appeared in their hands.
The heavy Terminator armor advanced toward the cliff.
Bang!
Kahn’s pickaxe struck the ore.
Black Minecraft cracks rapidly spread across its surface.
Pop.
The block shattered.
Several pieces of glowing Nether Quartz dropped onto the ground.
The moment Kahn picked them up…
They disappeared directly into his inventory.
“My lord.” “There’s another vein above us.” One veteran pointed upward.
Roya nodded before noticing several strange brown blocks beside the lava lake.
Each block bore twisted, ghostly faces.
He immediately walked over.
One swing of his pickaxe later— A block of Soul Sand dropped into his inventory.
Kahn examined the strange material.
“My lord…” “I can sense faint spiritual fluctuations.” “It almost feels as though countless souls are imprisoned inside.” Roya smiled.
Taking out his Flint and Steel…
He ignited the Soul Sand.
Whoosh!
Blue Soul Fire burst into existence.
The flame burned steadily.
Without consuming any fuel.
“This fire never goes out.” Roya pointed toward the Soul Fire.
“Bring as much Soul Sand back as possible.” “The Imperial Guard’s lasguns can simply be left inside these flames.” “They’ll recharge continuously.” “There’ll be no need for charging stations ever again.” Kahn stared at the blue fire.
His breathing unconsciously became heavier.
The lasgun was the Imperial Guard’s primary weapon.
Yet ammunition logistics had always been one of the greatest limitations of Imperial warfare.
Now…
One block of Soul Sand.
One eternal flame.
Unlimited energy.
“Mine everything!” Kahn immediately began digging.
The five Space Marines transformed into efficient mining machines.
The rhythmic sound of Iron Pickaxes echoed throughout the Nether.
Nether Quartz…
Nether Gold Ore…
Soul Sand…
Rapidly accumulated inside their inventories.
Suddenly…
A high-pitched cry echoed across the crimson landscape.
Everyone immediately looked up.
Floating above the lava sea…
A gigantic white creature drifted through the air.
Its cube-shaped body dangled long tentacles beneath it.
A Ghast.
Titus immediately raised his Grenade Launcher.
“My lord.” “Hostile target.” Roya merely glanced at the creature.
“Ignore it.” “We’re only gathering materials today.” “We’ll explore the Nether properly another time.” The group immediately returned toward the portal.
Stepping through the swirling purple surface…
The sensation of weightlessness vanished.
Back inside the underhive…
Ilya still stood guard before the portal.
The moment Roya and the others emerged safely…
She quietly released the breath she had been holding.
Chief Librarian Karkullis immediately stepped forward.
Blue psychic light glowed within his eyes as he carefully examined each returning warrior.
“No Warp taint.” “No corruption.” “Their souls remain completely pure.” Only then did everyone truly relax.
Nearby…
Magos Hades still sat slumped against a wall.
His servo-arm hung limply.
His processors remained trapped in an endless cycle of confusion.
Cape Town-3 continued preaching enthusiastically beside him.
“…I told you!” “Lord Roya is the Omnissiah incarnate!” Roya walked straight toward the Crafting Table.
“Cape Town.” “Bring your colleague over.” “He’s about to witness another miracle.” Hades slowly raised his head.
His optical sensors focused upon Roya.
He still hadn’t fully recovered from watching an Iron Pickaxe dismantle an ancient Contemptor Dreadnought.
Roya opened the crafting interface.
Cobblestone.
Redstone.
Nether Quartz.
Click.
Two Observers appeared.
The final missing component had been completed.
He immediately placed every required material onto the Crafting Table.
Four Iron Blocks.
Six Obsidian.
Five Iron Ingots.
Two Observers.
Two Redstone Blocks.
Four Pistons.
Two Dispensers.
Two Iron Nuggets.
The materials automatically assembled themselves according to the blueprint.
Roya calmly pressed the crafting button.
Click.
A deep metallic sound echoed through the ruins.
A miniature model appeared in Roya’s hand.
Without hesitation…
He tossed it toward the open ground.
Boom!
The entire floor trembled.
Dust exploded outward.
Standing at the center of the clearing…
Was a brand-new Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought.
It stood nearly four and a half meters tall.
Its armor was flawless.
Smooth ceramite plates covered every surface.
Not a single repair weld.
Not a single rust stain.
Its left arm carried a Kheres-pattern Assault Cannon.
Its right arm ended in a massive Dreadnought Power Fist.
Behind its shoulders…
The reactor emitted a steady blue glow.
This wasn’t a relic patched together over ten thousand years.
It was a brand-new Contemptor…
Fresh from the Great Crusade.
Hades’ optical sensors flared crimson.
Dozens of scanning beams swept across the Dreadnought.
Armor integrity.
Servo response.
Reactor output.
Every reading returned perfect.
His knees gave way.
He collapsed onto the floor.
“Omnissiah…” His voice shook violently.
“A perfect machine spirit…” “No instability…” “No degradation…” “This…” “This is the original holy form…” Cape Town-3 immediately knelt beside him.
“Praise the Omnissiah!” The gathered Lamenters stood completely speechless.
Phoros stared blankly at the ancient war machine.
The Chapter still possessed several battered Castraferrum-pattern Dreadnoughts.
But a Contemptor…
Existed only within ancient records.
“Phoros.” Roya broke the silence.
“Bring me your most critically wounded Dreadnought pilot.” “The one whose sarcophagus can no longer support him.” Phoros immediately saluted.
“At once, my lord!” Twenty minutes later…
A Thunderhawk Gunship landed outside the ruins.
Apothecary Samuel arrived alongside several Space Marines.
They carefully pushed forward a massive grav-sled.
Upon it rested a battered Castraferrum-pattern Dreadnought.
Its left leg had been destroyed.
Its armor was covered with countless scars.
The black-and-white checkerboard and bleeding-heart insignia of the Lamenters remained visible beneath centuries of damage.
“My lord.” “This is Ancient Darrell.” Phoros lowered his head respectfully.
“He lost almost his entire body over a century ago.” “His Dreadnought suffered catastrophic damage only three days ago.” “The life-support systems are failing.” For an Astartes…
Being interred within a Dreadnought was both the greatest honor…
And the cruelest prison.
Most awakened in unimaginable pain.
“Transfer the sarcophagus.” Samuel immediately obeyed.
Every Lamenter present knelt respectfully before the Chapter’s ancient hero.
Roya stepped toward the Contemptor.
A hidden compartment opened across its chest.
Inside…
An immaculate sarcophagus cradle waited.
The damaged sarcophagus was carefully lifted into place.
The hatch sealed automatically.
Neural connectors engaged.
Hum…
The Contemptor’s reactor ignited.
Servo motors awakened.
The optics lit brilliant crimson.
The awakening sequence completed.
Silence filled the ruins.
Everyone waited.
Normally…
Ancient Darrell’s awakening always began with screams of unbearable agony.
Instead…
The Contemptor slowly flexed its massive Power Fist.
Its movements were smooth.
Natural.
Effortless.
“Elder…” Phoros stepped forward.
“How do you feel?” “We’ll administer pain suppressants immediately.” The Contemptor slowly turned toward him.
Ancient Darrell’s deep voice emerged from the external speakers.
“…Phoros…” “No pain suppressants.” A long pause followed.
Then…
“My nerves…” “They don’t burn anymore.” He slowly looked down at his new body.
The Contemptor took several effortless steps.
Every movement felt fluid.
“My phantom pain is gone.” “The neural feedback…” “…is barely noticeable.” “I can’t even feel the amniotic suspension anymore.” “It feels…” “…as though I’m wearing Power Armor again.” “No suffering.” “No burden.” “…Only comfort.” Those words struck every Lamenter harder than any weapon.
For ten thousand years…
Every Dreadnought pilot had endured unimaginable agony.
Now…
That suffering had vanished completely.
All eyes turned toward Roya.
Roya remained perfectly calm.
He already understood why.
To Minecraft’s system…
The Contemptor was simply equipment.
Equipment granted armor…
Attack power…
Protection…
It could never apply a permanent negative status effect like unbearable pain.
Minecraft’s rules had completely overwritten the brutal neural interface technology of Warhammer 40,000.
Seeing everyone’s shocked expressions…
Roya casually patted the Contemptor’s armored leg.
“I only made a few adjustments to the neural interface.” “A hero who continues fighting for humanity shouldn’t spend eternity suffering.” The words had barely finished.
Thud.
Phoros dropped to both knees.
“My lord…” His voice cracked with emotion.
“You’ve freed our ancestors from ten thousand years of torment.” One after another…
Every Lamenter knelt.
Weapons laid before them.
Heads bowed deeply.
Their reverence had reached a level beyond simple loyalty.