Chapter 49 What Do You Mean the Shipgirls Are Pregnant?! (Bonus)

Before Vane could even answer, Sanguinius spoke up again.

“Forefather, are you planning to construct a massive Gellar Field generator?”

“Hell no,” Vane frantically shook his head. “A Gellar Field of that scale? Are you trying to permanently paralyze me like your old man on the Golden Throne?”

Gellar Fields required living Psykers to maintain them, and they had a notoriously high mortality rate for the operators.

The Nether Highway was going to cover the entire galaxy. To cover an area that massive, how many Psykers would he have to burn as fuel?

Furthermore, Gellar Field generators required constant, rigorous manual maintenance.

If someone slacked off one day and failed to swap out a burnt-out component—or a burnt-out Psyker—in time, the whole highway would instantly go to hell.

While there were versions of the Gellar Field that didn’t require Psykers, those generators were obscenely expensive, extremely prone to breaking down, and a complete logistical nightmare to maintain.

Vane vastly preferred a version with zero required upkeep.

He planned to combine magical runes and Blackstone to forge a fully enclosed, physical tunnel spanning the galaxy.

He would intentionally leave small gaps at set intervals, actively baiting Warp Daemons into invading the Blackstone tunnel. Right around those gaps, he’d set up traps and build fully automated mob grinders.

Beneath the grinders, he’d install hoppers and collection arrays to gather the dropped Warp materials, using the demonic loot to passively fund the highway’s self-repair protocols.

Additionally, he’d build automated golem factories at regular intervals, set to endlessly spawn Iron Golems, Copper Golems, and Snow Golems.

He’d program the golems to patrol the tunnels, patch any structural damage, and aggressively evict any hostile mobs that slipped through.

With this setup, the Blackstone Nether Highway would achieve perfect self-sustainability, requiring absolutely no manual maintenance.

Simultaneously, he’d install various speed-boosting mechanics inside the tunnel, ensuring any ship that entered would travel at speeds vastly exceeding standard Warp travel—achieving near-instantaneous teleportation between sectors.

“Then… how exactly do you plan to accomplish this, Forefather?” Sanguinius asked, genuinely confused.

“It’s honestly pretty hard to explain it to you. Your admin level is just too low,” Vane scratched his head. “But trust me, I’ve got it completely figured out.”

“Anyway, just sit back and watch. Pretty soon, an inter-dimensional super-railway network connecting every world in the galaxy is going to pop into existence.”

Sanguinius: “…”

I literally just ascended to godhood, and my admin level is STILL too low?!

—

The return of Sanguinius whipped the citizens of Baal into an absolute frenzy of joy.

They flooded the streets, dancing and singing, bringing out their most prized, hoarded food and wine to share with their neighbors in a massive, planetary celebration.

Seizing the moment, Dante threw a massive formal gala and ordered the Astropathic choirs to broadcast the news of the Great Angel’s resurrection across the stars, aiming to boost the morale of Imperial citizens everywhere.

The Imperium was currently teetering on the edge of the abyss, ravaged by endless war on every front. Countless billions were drowning in absolute despair regarding the future; they desperately needed a miraculous headline like this.

After wrapping up the celebrations, Dante and the Chapter Command immediately began preparing for their deployment.

Before leaving, Vane made good on his promise. He built a specialized medical machine inside the Arx Angelicum designed to completely cure the Black Rage and the Red Thirst.

All they had to do was toss a berserk Astartes inside, and the machine would automatically execute all the necessary cleansing protocols without requiring any manual operation.

The root cause of the Black Rage and the Red Thirst wasn’t entirely Sanguinius’s fault. The Red Thirst had actually existed since the Great Crusade.

The origin of the Black Rage was even more convoluted: a nasty cocktail of Baal’s ancient localized curse, inherent flaws in the Primarch’s genetic template, and several other highly esoteric metaphysical factors.

Thanks to these genetic bugs, the Blood Angels had a notoriously terrible reputation. They were widely viewed as a legion of unhinged space vampires and were heavily ostracized by various Imperial factions.

Because of this deep-rooted genetic spaghetti code, even with Sanguinius resurrected, the Black Rage and Red Thirst would still occasionally proc among his sons—the debuffs just wouldn’t be nearly as severe.

But with Vane’s automated curing machine, the Sons of Sanguinius never had to worry about permanently losing control again. They could hack and slash to their hearts’ content—freely offering blood for the Emperor and skulls for the Golden Throne without fear!

Upon learning that Sanguinius and the Forefather were deploying to Macragge, the Successor Chapters attending the ceremony—like the Angels Sanguine and the Blood Knights—volunteered to join the crusade.

What Son of Sanguinius could possibly resist the ultimate temptation of fighting side-by-side with their Gene-Father?

However, Sanguinius firmly rejected their requests.

With the Great Rift aggressively expanding, countless worlds were being overrun by Warp entities, and billions of Imperial citizens were suffering through apocalyptic war and starvation. Those people desperately needed the Adeptus Astartes.

Therefore, the Great Angel only permitted a tiny fraction of elite forces to join his personal retinue. The rest were immediately assigned combat deployments to relieve the besieged systems.

The flagship chosen for the Macragge Crusade was the Red Tear. This Gloriana-class battleship was a personal gift from the Emperor to Sanguinius.

Following the Horus Heresy and the splitting of the Legions, the remaining Blood Angels lacked the sheer manpower to fully utilize the Red Tear’s capabilities; functionally, it had become less practical than a standard battleship.

Moreover, if they sortied it and it suffered catastrophic damage, the Chapter would be emotionally devastated. After all, they had already lost their Primarch, and he hadn’t left behind much of an inheritance.

If the Red Tear got wrecked or lost, every single Blood Angel would probably instantly proc the Black Rage out of sheer grief.

Because of all this, the Red Tear had basically been mothballed as a giant museum piece, parked permanently inside the Angel’s Fall Spaceport for people to admire.

But now, with the Primarch resurrected and back in command, the dormant Red Tear was pulled out of drydock, fully repaired, and recommissioned for active duty.

After finalizing their logistics, the fleet broke orbit amidst the deafening cheers of the planetary populace.

The Gloriana-class Red Tear served as the fleet’s absolute anchor, heavily escorted by a massive screen of frigates and transport vessels.

The battleship’s colossal plasma drives roared to life, vibrating the adamantium hull, as the rear thrusters expelled exhaust plumes that burned as bright as a localized sun.

Upon reaching the Mandeville Point, the Red Tear tore open a rift into the Immaterium, leading the fleet into the Warp on a direct course for the Cryptus System.

This time, with Sanguinius acting as a literal divine ward, the transit was significantly smoother and completely lacked the violent, motion-sickness-inducing turbulence of the previous trip.

After merely a few hours of real-space time, the fleet successfully translated into the Cryptus System.

—

Vane immediately returned to his mobile fortress and, alongside Steve, went into a hardcore, sleep-deprived speed-building frenzy.

First, he built a hyper-efficient Obsidian generator array to ensure an infinite supply of blocks for the Nether Highway.

Next, he constructed an automated assembly line dedicated to carving, enchanting, and blessing the Obsidian. This process inscribed runic circuitry onto the blocks, generating a passive warding shield to keep Warp Daemons from griefing the infrastructure.

Then, he fabricated an automated block-placing mechanism, programming the mobile fortress to physically construct the tunnel according to his blueprints without requiring any manual input.

Thanks to his overpowered tech modpacks, implementing these features was relatively trivial. Vane and Steve rapidly finalized the fortress’s overhaul.

After upgrading the hardware, Vane heavily optimized the mobile fortress’s AI module, drastically overclocking its processing power.

With everything set up, he uploaded the Nether Highway blueprints and ordered the fortress’s AI to execute the build protocol.

Just like that, the heavily modded mobile fortress was now capable of continuously paving the highway as it cruised forward. It literally laid track wherever it flew. It was an absolutely flawless setup—the only minor drawback was its relatively slow travel speed.

Vane admired his handiwork, his eyes shining with profound smugness. He’d optimize it later to make it truly perfect.

Suddenly, a system prompt popped up in his UI.

[Your projection has successfully cleared the Azur Lane universe! Azur Lane Modpack acquired. Unlocked Crafting Recipes: Wisdom Cube, Anti-Ship Sword, Energy Cube…]

The avatar he had deployed into another dimension had officially cleared its campaign.

As the prompt materialized, Vane’s brain was instantly flooded with the synced memories of his Azur Lane playthrough.

Why is it that my quests in this universe are exclusively hyper-violent slaughter, while my quests in the other universe were exclusively dating sim mechanics?!

And more importantly… what do you mean my projection got the Shipgirls AND the Sirens pregnant?!

—

Next Bonus at 450 Powerstones!

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