Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor
Chapter 401 - 402: The Chaos Clone and the Goddess of Life

Beneath the Dreamweaver, deep within the Savior's biological cloning laboratory—

The facility had now entered a state of total lockdown. Multiple layers of quarantine zones were established, guarded by hundreds of Thunder Custodians. Even sacred ash grenades were primed and ready for launch.

All of this was to contain the extreme danger posed by the chaos-cloning experiments being conducted inside. No one could predict the consequences of merging the gene-seed of a Primarch with various xenos and heretical DNA sequences.

What if the Chaos clone developed independent consciousness?

In such a case, emergency protocols would be activated immediately. The entire facility would be incinerated without hesitation—destroyed in its entirety, the threat snuffed out before it could ever manifest.

"Hopefully nothing goes wrong," Eden murmured, eyes narrowed at the sealed quarantine sectors.

He was desperate for the Chaos clone experiment to succeed in one go. He didn't have time for prolonged setbacks.

The forces of Chaos within the Eye of Terror were now embroiled in high-intensity warfare, too distracted to pay attention to the outside. That, at least, was a temporary boon for the Imperium of Man.

But it didn't mean the Imperium had been granted a breather.

The threats facing humanity were too numerous to count.

Based on current reports, the Regent's Indomitus Crusade was gradually reclaiming territories on the Dark Side of the Imperium. A welcome success—

—but not without consequences.

Too many Imperial forces had been mobilized to support the Crusade, leaving other regions dangerously exposed. Chaos and xenos races seized the opportunity to intensify their incursions into those vulnerable zones.

And the newly reclaimed Dark Side sectors?

They were barely clinging to life, teetering on the edge of annihilation, in desperate need of colossal resource input to recover.

Right now, the Imperium resembled a patient pulled from ICU—still hovering on the edge of death, in need of immense funds and long-term treatment.

The recovery was fragile.

Any further shock to the system could cause it all to collapse again—resources lost, worlds destroyed.

Within these dire circumstances, the Savior's domain under Eden's command was doing its best to stabilize the situation. Offering aid and relief to as many struggling worlds as possible.

But often, it was a drop in the bucket.

While it expanded the Savior's territory and influence, it had limited effect on the overall Imperium.

One sector, no matter how mighty, couldn't save the millions of human worlds facing obliteration.

That's why Eden had taken steps to reopen and expand the Webway nexus.

While his own domain lacked the strength to support such vast relief efforts, he could still offer high-speed transport corridors—giving beleaguered human worlds the chance to save themselves.

Those worlds could barter their remaining resources in exchange for weapons, supplies, and reinforcements from the Imperium's still-stable regions.

Trade, travel, and commercial networks would thrive. And in doing so, they might awaken the dormant potential scattered across humanity's fractured empire.

Unity could be forged from fragmentation.

Fortunately, restoration of the Webway Nexus was progressing rapidly. According to engineering reports, the return of vast quantities of Blackstone and other spoils had dramatically accelerated repairs.

Projections now estimated full operational capability within five years.

When the time came, Eden would personally oversee this core economic hub. He planned to use it as a centerpiece for cooperation between Imperial sectors, a gateway to reverse the Imperium's slow decline.

But just as that good news arrived—so did something terrifying.

The medical sister squads Eden had dispatched years ago finally returned from their long investigation.

Their findings were grim.

Across the galaxy, outbreaks of plague were becoming alarmingly frequent. Some worlds had even begun to report cases of plague-zombies—and this was without any known Nurgle daemon incursions.

There could be no doubt.

Grandfather Nurgle's power was on the rise again.

It was a terrible omen.

Plagues spread faster than wars. And unlike war, they could not be anticipated or easily fought.

A new Nightmare War—a Plague War—was beginning to take root.

A mass incursion by a Chaos God into the material galaxy, one that would affect trillions, twisting and rotting life under Nurgle's toxic mercy.

One of the Primarchs, the Imperial Regent—Roboute Guilliman—would be brought to the brink of death in this war.

Eden knew how it would end: the Emperor would manifest briefly through Guilliman, burning Nurgle's garden to the ground and seizing a bitter, pyrrhic victory.

But it would still be a catastrophic war.

Like most Imperial victories, it would be one soaked in blood and irreparable loss.

Though the core battles would occur in the Ultramar sector, Nurgle's influence would reach far beyond. New plagues would erupt across the galaxy.

Even in victory, humanity would bleed. Countless worlds would perish. Billions of lives would be lost.

Eden couldn't accept that outcome.

He wanted to save more lives—but even he was beginning to feel powerless.

The Savior's domain had built a plague research institute—but progress had been slow. They hadn't yet developed a viable cure or comprehensive response protocol.

So Eden doubled down—pouring more funding into the plague institute, training more medics, building more equipment.

When the Webway nexus was complete, he planned to construct a massive medical megastructure there—something that could rapidly deploy supplies and medics to any infected sector the moment the Plague War erupted.

This medical force would also be integrated into the Regent's Indomitus Crusade, providing logistical and healing support on the front lines.

Negotiations with the Regent's chief administrator—Bayesa—had already begun. Since both hailed from the same central administration system, coordination would be seamless.

"…Do you think the Plague War could spread into our territory?" Eden asked suddenly.

The one standing next to him was his adjutant, Tarko, who had been delivering the latest status reports. (Remember Tarko was named Tako before)

All core members of the Savior's high command knew of the prophecy regarding the coming war. They had long begun preparing contingency plans for when it came.

Tarko thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, my Lord Savior. If the Chaos Gods seek to conquer the Imperium, then we are naturally among their primary targets."

The Savior's territory had opened itself to the wider galaxy—and its influence had already rivaled that of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar. And it was only growing.

Soon, it might surpass even Ultramar.

A future where the Savior's realm stood alongside Holy Terra itself was not unthinkable.

But such prominence invited Chaos.

It was one of Eden's greatest fears.

And there was no easy solution. Advancement demanded exposure to threat.

Even Holy Terra endured constant pressure from the Warp.

Eden could only hope that his realm would survive the Plague War with minimal losses.

He was deep in thought. He knew the Holy Tower alone wouldn't be enough to defend against all assaults. Even the Holy Light had its limits.

The Chaos Gods had always feared that light—and were surely devising ways to neutralize it.

And the Holy Light could resist corruption, yes—but it couldn't cure diseases. It was, after all, a machine powered by a sliver of the Emperor's psychic essence—not a miracle.

What they needed now, more than anything, was a technological breakthrough in plague defense.

But such breakthroughs took time.

…Maybe there was a way to speed that up.

"…I wonder how Aisha is doing right now…"

Eden thought of a deity—Aisha, the Goddess of Life.

She had spent tens of thousands of years imprisoned in Nurgle's Garden, forced to drink the "Loving Plague Broth." If anyone understood the nature of Nurgle's plagues, it would be her.

Not only that, she would occasionally pass healing methods into the human realm.

There was no doubt she could help the Plague Research Institute accelerate the development of countermeasures. She might even provide existing treatment technologies.

Unfortunately, since their last contact, Eden had never been able to reach her again. Their previous encounter now seemed more like a fortunate accident.

Perhaps the Goddess of Life had since been placed under even tighter guard by Nurgle.

The real challenge was this—Aisha was within Nurgle's Garden, one of the most dangerous places in existence, right next to the Grandfather of Plague himself.

Trying to contact her without alerting Nurgle was no easy task.

Especially now—Eden had become a prominent figure in the Warp. Entering that realm would be like shining a spotlight directly on himself.

Let alone sneaking into Nurgle's domain to meet with the Goddess.

If Nurgle, who cherished "pure love," found out Eden was trying to steal his girl, he might not punish Aisha—but he would definitely beat Eden into Warp-dust.

That would be game over.

Nurgle might usually appear jolly and jovial, but once provoked, he was terrifying. Even Slaanesh had barely withstood his fury before.

"Maybe… this Chaos body can help me get close to Nurgle's Garden…"

Eden contemplated this dangerous thought.

If the Chaos clone could grant him the ability to wield Warp power—

It would not only allow him to operate covertly within Chaos space, but also increase his chances of reaching Aisha.

After all, it was precisely because he was using Chaos power during the Slaanesh illusion that he had managed to contact her once before. Clearly, in the Warp, Chaos energies were far more discreet and effective.

By contrast, the power of Light was too radiant and inherently repulsive to the Warp. It would almost certainly be rejected—and noticed—by Nurgle's Garden.

The Chaos Gods were powerful, yes—but they were not omniscient. While they could easily detect holy Light, they could not track every Chaos signature at all times.

That gave Eden a slim window of opportunity.

If the Chaos clone experiment succeeded, he would immediately initiate "Operation Nurgle Garden Rendezvous."

Sure, it was risky. He might lose a clone. He might get maimed. But his miniature sun (the divine core of his soul) was growing ever stronger—nearly a divine being under the Chaos Gods and still tethered to the Emperor.

So long as his real body didn't show up in person, Nurgle couldn't just skip over the Emperor and smite him directly.

Definitely worth the gamble.

Eden stared at the sealed lab, heart filled with anticipation.

This Chaos clone project wasn't just about founding a new Chaos faction—it might directly determine the fate of the coming Plague War.

With luck, this power might even help save the Imperium during that dark chapter.

In the quarantine zone—

Eden waited anxiously. This was a pivotal moment.

He had to be ready to face whatever abomination emerged from failure.

Even an immature hybrid made from his and thirteen Primarch gene-seeds would be unimaginably powerful.

But despite the danger, the Chaos clone program had to move forward. High risks, after all, came with high rewards.

Sometimes, Eden believed in laying low.

But in critical moments? You had to bet big.

Avoiding risk forever would only lead to stagnation. Eventually, it would become even harder to act when it truly mattered.

Then it came—

BOOM—!

The lab's sealed gates opened with a thunderous rumble.

The Biologis Sage immediately sent word—The experiment was a success!

Eden strode into the lab, his anticipation surging, and laid eyes on the creature suspended in the maturation pod.

The Chaos clone had already been catalyzed into its adult form.

As he drew closer, he immediately sensed its overwhelming power. Even at rest, the body radiated an ominous aura.

This Chaos hybrid contained Eden's own gene-seed as the primary base, with secondary elements from thirteen Primarchs. It was also enhanced by select xeno traits—Eldar, Tyranid, Ork—and finally refined using Chaos energy and his mini-sun's gentle life force.

The result was a masterpiece—loyal, powerful, and volatile.

Eden studied the creature closely.

It stood three meters tall. Twin horns curled from its head. Mysterious dark-gold runes glowed faintly across its form.

In terms of appearance, it inherited Eden's features—supplemented by those of Sanguinius and Fulgrim—resulting in an almost otherworldly beauty.

Its muscles were finely chiseled, like gold-forged steel—powerful, but not bloated.

The overall image struck a perfect balance between elegance and primal ferocity. It even surpassed the terrifying presence Ka'Bandha once described as "the Devourer."

Visually, it outshone every Primarch—including Eden himself.

If Fulgrim the Fallen Phoenix saw this clone, he might cry tears of envy.

"Hsss… not bad. Better-looking than I am…"

Eden felt a pang of jealousy—but quickly shook it off.

It's my clone body. Am I seriously jealous of myself?

He made up his mind on the spot: this Chaos clone would become one of his primary bodies, assigned to operate in the Eye of Terror and the Warp.

Occasionally, it might pop up in Imperial space too.

Whether or not his current body was his "true" one would remain a mystery.

After all, deception was the best protection. The galaxy was full of assassins—some Primarchs had been caught off-guard and killed.

There were even forbidden relics that could supposedly kill the Emperor himself. Best to stay cautious.

Eden had already lost several clone bodies over the years—demonic attacks, assassinations, unknown enemies. Who had sent those killers? He still didn't know.

Most of the Primarchs were dead, maimed, or missing.

His good friend Guilliman, the Regent, still charged into battle personally with his true body. That he was still alive and well spoke volumes of his strength.

Sometimes, sheer durability was a superpower.

If Eden had suffered the same number of traps and ambushes as Guilliman, he would've died long ago.

Many of the galaxy's shadowy figures relied on clones to operate—Fabius Bile, for instance, kept a whole fleet of clone bodies just to keep experimenting.

Otherwise, he'd have died a hundred times over.

Eden gazed upon the clone with satisfaction.

One more powerful body meant one more life. A huge boost in survivability.

As for just how powerful the clone truly was—that would have to be tested in combat.

But based on the sheer presence it radiated… it was likely stronger than Eden's main body. Possibly by a significant margin.

"Lord Savior," the Biologis Sage said respectfully, "this clone has completed initial shaping, but it will require some time for fine-tuning and stabilization before it is fully operational."

He added, "Over the next three years, we will—"

Eden listened patiently, mentally filtering out the jargon and bits of machine-language binary.

The key point: the Chaos clone would be fully combat-ready in three years, and could even be upgraded further afterward.

This was already the limit of the domain's cloning technology—even with Fabius Bile's legacy incorporated.

Thankfully, Eden had only cloned an unconscious shell, not attempted to create a new sentient species like Bile did—something so terrifying even the Chaos Gods feared it.

If he'd tried that, the project would've been impossible.

But three years? That was manageable.

He could use the time to make preparations.

Find a suitable Chaos hideout. Forge new armor for the clone. Breed some new sneaky daemon minions.

Or… investigate Nurgle's Garden.

That last goal was top priority—and the hardest one.

Almost no one in the galaxy had ever pulled it off.

But Eden wasn't just anyone.

Years ago, he'd planted sleeper agents—sneaky little Genestealer cultists—across multiple Chaos realms. (Remember that Eden's Genestealers pry to Eden's with 4 arms)

Letting them grow freely until the time was right.

It was a tactic he'd learned from Tzeentch—who had infiltrated every corner of the Warp and galaxy, even corrupting Skulltaker, the once-favored champion of Khorne.

Sometimes Eden even wondered if he had spies of Tzeentch in his own circle.

But he didn't let himself dwell on that.

Paranoia itself was a form of psychic corruption—a trap laid by the Schemer. Better not to overthink.

Eden gave a few final instructions, then left the laboratory and entered a rune-inscribed meditation chamber.

Here, he could hide his thoughts and guard his mind.

He closed his eyes and sank into the Tyranid psychic network he controlled.

In that astral space, countless glowing motes drifted like stars. Each represented a sneaky minion, orbiting the core—where a four-armed Savior icon radiated faint light.

This was a visual projection of his Tyranid psychic web.

"Hsss… which of my infiltrators did I toss into Nurgle's domain again…"

Eden pondered, trying to assign new missions to any survivors who could reach Nurgle's Garden.

It had been years since he last checked on them.

He discovered that many had already perished—fallen in battles, or caught and executed after their identities were exposed.

"In the name of the Four-Armed Savior, may your souls ascend to the Four-Armed Paradise…"

He began to pray—only to remember the Genestealers probably didn't have souls.

So he just gave them a moment of silence.

Then he kept searching.

At last—one survivor remained. The last infiltrator in Nurgle's domain.

Eden was delighted.

He reached out and gently touched the dull-yellow mote of light.

Using his faith as a subtle thread, he sent a hidden message.

A thread of psychic energy zipped through the Warp, piercing the veil—

—and entered Nurgle's realm.

(End of Chapter)

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