During the year Levi underwent his ascension, the lights in the medical sanctum beneath the Pyramid of Photep never went out.
When he was finally able to sit up on his own and move his newborn body, through the transparent porthole of the medical pod, he happened to see a group of young scholars dressed in deep red robes, holding their most cherished books, walking silently into the operating room next door.
“The final batch of volunteers has entered to participate in the Astartes ascension surgery.”
Amon spoke from behind, holding a neatly folded black under-suit in his hands.
“On the third day of your surgery, Lord Magnus issued a recruitment order to the five great schools.”
Levi turned his head, looking at his currently two-meter-thirty tall body, feeling the endlessly surging power within him and the deeper resonance with the Warp, and asked softly, “How many people signed up?”
“Nearly ten thousand.” Amon’s voice carried a trace of imperceptible emotion.
“Almost all the most outstanding scholars on all of Prospero came.
They laid down their quill pens and ancient tomes, willing to use their own flesh and blood to protect the glory of Tizca.”
Magnus’s recruitment standards were extremely strict.
Not only did they require outstanding psychic talent, but they also demanded an iron will—after all, the nineteen unanesthetized ascension surgeries were themselves a tempering of the soul.
In the end, from nearly ten thousand volunteers, he selected three thousand scholars who best met the requirements.
This number was limited by those gene-seeds; only three thousand seeds remained.
Adding the mature gene-seeds from the surviving Thousand Sons, this was all there was.
Levi had also purified these seeds, removing the Warp pollution.
The entire biologis tech-priest team of the Adeptus Mechanicus went to work, expanding the medical sanctum to a full three floors.
The nineteen ascension surgeries proceeded in an orderly, assembly-line fashion.
Amon led the psychic scholars of the five great schools in twenty-four-hour shifts, standing guard outside the sanctum, using layers upon layers of psychic barriers to isolate all Warp interference.
Unlike other legions, the ascension of the Thousand Sons possessed a unique advantage.
All the gene-seeds implanted into the warriors’ bodies had undergone the thorough purification of the Emperor’s Blood.
Those latent dangers of chaotic defects and flesh mutations that had once kept Magnus awake all night were completely erased by that drop of golden blood.
No warriors lost control and mutated during surgery, and no scholars fell to Chaos amidst the pain.
The scholars, who once lacked the strength to truss a chicken, were remade by scalpels and gene-seeds, transforming one by one into Space Marines over two meters tall, possessing both power and wisdom.
They still retained their thirst for knowledge; only the books in their hands were replaced by bolters and power axes, and their research topics changed from ancient runes to tactical deductions and psychic warfare. Find the original chapter at g.com.
The scholars of the Pyrae School became the most elite battle-mages; the prophets of the Corvidae School became the legion’s reconnaissance vanguard; the biologists of the Pavoni School became the best apothecaries; the telepaths of the Athanean School became the legion’s communication hub; and the telekinetic manipulators of the Raptora School were responsible for operating the warships’ weapon systems.
After Levi’s body completely recovered, he also joined the team assisting with the ascensions.
Relying on his understanding of the Abyssal Resonance Method, he helped Magnus improve the steps of psychic amplification, allowing the new warriors to master their newly gained power much faster.
He also taught his method of constructing soul resonance nodes to the chief magisters of the five great schools, allowing every Thousand Sons warrior to safely draw energy from the Warp without worrying about being corrupted.
Time passed day by day.
When the final Thousand Sons warrior stepped down from the operating table and donned his own crimson power armor, there was exactly half a year left until the final deadline for the Great Crusade.
The Thousand Sons Legion, which originally had only 1,200, had now expanded to 4,200 men.
4,200 Space Marines possessing both wisdom and power, 4,200 scholar-warriors capable of tearing apart enemy lines on the battlefield with psychic power, formed the most unique and most awe-inspiring legion in the Great Crusade.
On this day, Magnus gathered all the legion’s warriors and held a grand military parade in Mithril Square in front of the Pyramid of Photep.
4,200 Thousand Sons warriors clad in crimson power armor stood solemnly in forty-two strictly ordered formations.
Sunlight spilled over their armor, making it resemble a burning sea of blood.
The square was surrounded by the citizens of Tizca who had come to see them off.
They waved the flags in their hands, their eyes full of pride and reluctance to part.
Magnus stood at the highest point of Mithril Square, draped in robes of mingled gold and red, holding a staff inlaid with crimson gems.
He looked below at these sons he had single-handedly forged, looked at Levi standing at the very front of the formations in wine-red power armor, and his voice carried across the entire square through psychic energy:
“My children!”
“Once, we were entangled by a curse, struggling bitterly in the dark.
We thought we were destined to be destroyed in despair and become food for Chaos.”
“But today, we are reborn!”
“Levi’s wisdom has dispelled our gloom.
From today onward, the Thousand Sons are no longer a cursed legion; we are the blade of the Imperium, the guardians of mankind!”
“The horn of the Great Crusade has been blown.
In the galaxy, there are still countless humans waiting for our liberation, and countless evils waiting for our eradication!”
“Take up your weapons, and set out with me!
For mankind!
For Prospero!”
“For the Emperor!
For mankind!
For Prospero!”
4,200 Thousand Sons warriors raised the weapons in their hands simultaneously, letting out a deafening roar.
The roar shot straight into the clouds, echoing for a long time in the skies above Tizca.
Levi stood at the very front of the formation, his right hand pressed against the Thousand Sons insignia on his chest.
He could feel the heartbeat of every brother beside him, could feel the hot blood and determination in their hearts.
He looked up at the sky.
The cruisers and battleships of the Thousand Sons Legion were already fully geared up and waiting in orbit.
The crimson hulls of the ships flickered with cold light under the sun, like savage beasts ready to strike.
Magnus walked down from the high platform and patted Levi’s shoulder.
“Are you ready, my Chief Librarian?”
Levi raised his head, a flash of intertwined gold and purple light sweeping through his eyes, and a confident smile hooked the corner of his mouth.
“Always ready, Lord Magister.”
He had already been promoted by Magnus to the Chief Librarian of the Thousand Sons.
As for Ahriman, who originally held this position, he had become the chief magister of the Corvidae School.
The fleet’s departure whistle pierced the tranquil sky.
The first warship slowly sailed out of orbit, entering the vast sea of stars.
Following closely behind was the fleet of the entire Thousand Sons Legion.
Prospero grew smaller and smaller behind them, eventually becoming a single point of blue light in the starry sky.
Levi stood on the bridge of the Crimson Tome, looking at the endless darkness ahead.
He knew the shadows of the Warp had never truly dispersed, but he also knew that this time, they finally held the chips to rewrite their destiny.
Thaniel_a_goodchild.