The next second, however, a cataclysmic tremor swept through the entire underground cavern.
The glowing crystals on the cavern roof burst in swaths, rubble smashed down like a torrential rain, and the thick rock strata let out groans of being unable to bear the heavy burden.
The metal hull of the ship clanged loudly under the bombardment.
Everyone staggered and grabbed the walls to steady themselves.
Only Perturabo and Levi stood firmly in place.
The former’s vox instantly burst into a field of static.
“Report!
Lord Primarch!
Planetary core activity has suddenly intensified!” the communications officer’s roar pierced through the static.
“The geological model has been recalculated.
Morningstar will completely disintegrate in twenty hours at most!
All deep mining sectors have begun to collapse, and half of the surface evacuation points have been destroyed!”
Perturabo’s face instantly turned livid.
He rapidly pulled up his tactical terminal.
Blinding red data danced on the screen: excavated adamantium veins, high-purity promethium reserves, and rare alloy ingots were piled up at Surface Warehouse 3.
And another cold black number was the civilians stranded on the planet—there were still two million, three hundred and seventy thousand.
“Order all transport ships to immediately divert to Surface Warehouse 3,” he spoke coldly into the vox without the slightest hesitation.
“Prioritize loading all excavated strategic resources.
Abandon all civilian evacuation points.
Siege Tyrants, follow me to the warehouse to reinforce the loading platforms; complete the first wave of loading within one hour.”
“Perturabo!” Levi, who had been silently listening to the side, abruptly took a step forward, his voice suddenly rising.
“You dare leave over two million people behind to die?!”
“This is the most rational choice.” Perturabo turned his head, his eyes as cold as ice.
“My transport ships, at full capacity, can only carry three hundred thousand people.
In twenty hours, they can make three trips at most, evacuating at most nine hundred thousand.
“The remaining one million, four hundred and seventy thousand will still die, and we will lose all resources as well.
Which is more cost-effective?
Do I even need to calculate it?”
“Cost-effective?” Levi laughed in anger.
“In your eyes, human lives are just numbers that can be measured in ore?
These are all subjects of the Imperium!
I, the Thousand Sons Legion, will compensate you.
However much you want, I will compensate you!”
This sentence was like a poisoned dagger, accurately stabbing into Perturabo’s deepest scar.
He froze abruptly, the blood color on his face draining instantly.
Sky-high fury churned in his eyes, along with a trace of agony that was almost overflowing.
He would never forget the bitter days when his sons tearfully complained to him about the lack of ammunition and resources.
Before he was found by the Emperor, the Fourth Legion fought under Horus.
With no Primarch to back them up and no one paying attention to them, they were the cannon fodder of the Imperium, the stones used to fill trenches.
Other legions had the most elite equipment and ate the most plentiful supplies, while his Fourth Legion could only pick up the scraps others left behind, using their flesh and blood to plug the xenos’ gun muzzles.
How many warriors died not under enemy fire, but due to a lack of ammunition, medicine, and damaged equipment.
Horus would always only say, “The Fourth Legion can hold,” but would never give them a single extra bullet or a single chunk of ore.
Now, this psyker from the Thousand Sons, this person who had the protection of a Primarch since birth, actually stood here and lightly said, “I will compensate you.”
As if those sacrificed warriors and that drained blood could all be measured in a few tons of ore.
“You’ll compensate?” Perturabo’s voice was pressed extremely low, every word carrying furious intent.
“What will you compensate with?
With the priority supply quota your Thousand Sons Legion enjoys in the Imperium?
Or the supplies Magnus conjures up with a flick of his finger?”
He suddenly approached Levi, his massive shadow completely enveloping him.
Perturabo’s face was twisted with extreme fury.
“Let me tell you, Levi!
Back when my sons gnawed on hard, dry synthetic nutrient paste under Horus and charged with bolters lacking ammunition, not a single person ever said ‘I will compensate you’!
And the current you is not worthy either!”
Levi was also stunned.
He hadn’t expected this sentence to provoke such a massive reaction and hurriedly explained:
“I didn’t mean that.
I just want to save people first!”
“Saving people is your business; guarding what my warriors deserve is my business.” Perturabo turned around coldly.
“From now on, we each do our own thing.
If you have the ability, save those two million people yourself.”
After speaking, he hefted his forgebreaker hammer and led the Iron Warriors charging out of the cabin without looking back, leaving only Levi and Phosis T’kar standing in the empty cabin.
“Chief…” Phosis T’kar stepped forward, his tone worried.
Looking at Perturabo’s disappearing back, Levi felt a wave of complex emotions in his heart.
He took a deep breath, and his state of mind instantly entered the sixth tier.
A tranquility like an ancient, rippleless well rapidly enveloped his entire body, and all chaotic emotions were pressed deep down.
But with only twenty hours left and over two million people to save, even Levi in the sixth-tier state of mind almost lost his composure.
His gaze was somewhat dazed and unconsciously fell upon this giant silver-white ship beneath his feet.
“Wait.” Levi abruptly recovered his senses, immediately recalling the external appearance and internal structure of this warship.
“This ship should be a Golden Age colony ship…
This means…”
His eyes grew brighter and brighter.
“Fully loaded, it can absolutely hold over two million people.
This batch of Imperial citizens can be saved!”
“But its power system is broken!
Perturabo mentioned it earlier, and with the shrewdness of the Lord of Iron, the fact that he didn’t mention repairing this warship to transport people or cargo is enough to show that this ship cannot be repaired in a short time.”
Phosis T’kar immediately frowned and poured a bucket of cold water on the idea.
“This ship cannot be repaired in a short time.” Levi nodded, his eyes firm.
“But we have the Mandala Spirit-Gathering Array created by Lord Magnus.
It can aggregate the psychic energy of our two thousand Thousand Sons warriors to form a massive thrust, enough to push this ship out of the atmosphere and into low-orbit, escaping Morningstar’s gravity.
Then this batch of Imperial citizens can be saved.”
But just as his voice fell, his expression sank.
He immediately called over a Thousand Sons Techmarine and had him inspect the specific condition of this warship.
Levi quickly received the report, and it was exactly as he expected.
“The life support systems, and those gravity systems…
after the passage of tens of thousands of years, these systems that ensure life can survive in space all need tuning before they can be used.”
Levi took off his helmet and rubbed between his eyebrows.
“The legion only allocated a mere twenty Techmarines to our vanguard force.
With twenty people, it is fundamentally impossible to complete simple repairs and tuning within twenty hours.”
Levi’s temples throbbed.
His initial estimate was that even doubling the number of people would be a stretch.
The twenty Techmarines Levi had were only specifically allocated to them because they were an expedition vanguard force.
Thaniel_a_goodchild.