Reborn as Humanity’s Emperor Across the Multiverse

"Colonel Janes Thompson?"

Hearing the name of the commanding officer over the comms, Charlie, sitting quietly behind his helmet visor, couldn't help but show a brief expression of surprise.

Standing not far ahead was none other than his father Rod Horneld's old war buddy, and someone who had played an important role in Charlie's childhood—"Uncle Thompson."

Memories began flooding back. Charlie vividly remembered how, during his and his sister's younger years, Colonel Janes Thompson had been an indispensable figure in their lives.

Both families had originated from Universe 04 (Dead Space), colloquially known as the "Necromorph Universe."

Charlie recalled how his father and Uncle Thompson had fought side by side on numerous cross-universe missions.

Before the AECS (Advanced Emergency Combat Squad) was disbanded and integrated into the Imperial Armed Forces, Rod and Janes had served as elite members of AECS' special operations unit, earning distinction in some of the most dangerous missions.

Their final mission together had been a daring assault on a Reaper scout ship in the Prime Universe. After that, circumstances forced the two old friends to go their separate ways.

But that parting had not damaged their friendship in the least.

In fact, it was entirely Rod's decision to step back.

Wounded and worn out from years of combat, Rod had chosen to retire and return to family life.

He feared that if he continued his service, not only could he die in the line of duty, but he might also miss what little time he had left with his children. Even though the Empire and its subsidiaries would cover Charlie and his sister's future needs, Rod felt that raising them personally was far more important.

Janes, on the other hand, continued serving actively in the military.

Despite this, whenever he had leave, he would visit the Horneld family in the Prime Universe's New Acra City, joining them for meals and family outings.

Yet, for all their closeness, Rod had never once revealed to Charlie or his sister the specific details of Janes' unit or his position within the military.

This wasn't just a matter of adhering to strict confidentiality; Rod also staunchly believed in principles. He never considered exploiting his friend's connections to give Charlie a leg up in the military.

In Rod's eyes, a soldier should earn their rank and respect through their own abilities and dedication, not through personal favors.

Of course, in the modern Empire, any opportunities for favoritism or "working the system" had been entirely eradicated.

The Empire's promotion system was coldly impartial—advancements in rank and position depended solely on individual merit and years of service. No external connections could influence the process.

It was the rigorous enforcement of such rules that allowed the Empire's vast military machine to function with unparalleled efficiency.

As memories of Uncle Thompson briefly played through Charlie's mind, he shook them off, knowing this wasn't the time for nostalgia.

Standing straight like the rest of his comrades, Charlie responded loudly over the comms:

"Yes, Sir!"

The unified chorus of responses echoed through the communication channel, loud and disciplined.

Janes Thompson let out a hearty laugh at their fervor, just as Charlie remembered him doing many times before:

"Hahaha! Now that is the spirit of an Imperial soldier! Well done!"

But his tone quickly shifted, becoming grave and commanding:

"Listen carefully, all of you. According to the original schedule, the fleet will exit slipspace in forty minutes, arriving at the edge of the chaotic region.

"However, our mission has been adjusted. Upon exiting slipspace, we will immediately transfer to a Diana III-class stealth vessel and detach from the main fleet.

"Our new objective is to escort a group of special agents."

Escort? Special agents?

The announcement caused a ripple of murmurs to spread through the comms.

Among the most vocal was the captain of the ODST combat company, whose tone carried a clear note of frustration and disbelief:

"Colonel, with all due respect, we didn't cross galaxies and universes to come to this chaotic sector just to play bodyguards for a bunch of spies! Don't they have their own security forces for this?

"And who are these agents anyway? What department do they even belong to? Why are we the ones tasked with protecting them?

"We're here to annihilate the enemy, not babysit!"

Though the captain's words were brazen and bordered on insubordination, they resonated with many of the ODSTs (Orbital Drop Shock Troopers).

ODSTs were renowned for being adrenaline junkies and battle-hardened lunatics, famous for executing high-risk operations. To them, an escort mission felt beneath their station.

Having mentally prepared themselves to charge into battle alongside the fleet's main forces, ruthlessly crushing the insolent remnants of chaos-aligned forces, this sudden change of plans felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on their heads.

The disappointment and frustration among the ODSTs were palpable.

Colonel Thompson, however, remained calm and unperturbed. His voice carried the weight of undeniable authority:

"If you want to disobey orders, Captain, or if you think it's worth jeopardizing your entire company's standing, even risking dishonorable discharge, then by all means, refuse this mission."

"...Sir."

The captain quickly fell silent, realizing he had no choice but to comply.

The ODSTs might be fearless, but outright defiance of orders was a line even they dared not cross.

Seeing that no one else had voiced further objections, Janes surveyed the assembled troops and offered a cold, pragmatic question:

"Does anyone else wish to remain with the main fleet and join the annihilation task force? Speak up now, and I'll personally request reassignment for you."

The comms fell into a heavy silence.

While the ODSTs grumbled under their breath, the Imperial Marines, including the new recruits like Charlie, were far less concerned.

To them, every mission was an opportunity to gain experience. Whether it was a search-and-destroy operation or an escort mission, all that mattered was that they could finally step onto the battlefield.

"Good," Janes said, his tone softening slightly.

"Now, all units, double-check your weapons and equipment. In fifteen minutes, board your designated transport as indicated on your HUD. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Dismissed."

Janes made a dismissive wave before turning back to his officers.

Charlie's squad stayed in position, either resting or chatting privately over their comms while waiting for the next stage of the mission.

During this downtime, a private communication request suddenly popped up on Charlie's HUD.

The sender: Private First Class Narilita Losrian.

Charlie wasn't surprised.

During their earlier conversations, Narilita had mentioned that she was also assigned to the same Marine battalion as him.

Given that this was a rest period and personal chats were allowed, Charlie accepted the request without hesitation.

"Charlie, any guesses on what we're about to face on this mission? What kind of enemies or situations we might encounter?"

Narilita's voice, usually upbeat and confident, sounded unusually low and cautious.

"Face what?"

Charlie frowned slightly, noting the subtle shift in her tone but not overly concerned.

After a brief pause to think, he replied, "Probably just Brutes or Jackals—basic cannon fodder.

"But honestly, the bigger mystery is the agents we're supposed to escort. We don't even know what department they belong to, let alone what kind of mission they're on.

"We'll have to wait until the action starts to get any real answers."

"I can't shake a bad feeling about this," Narilita said, her usual confidence replaced with a hint of unease.

...?

Charlie was unsure how to respond to such ominous statements, so he opted for silence.

He was aware of the elves' heightened sensitivity to the supernatural. Even though they had lost their "magic" after leaving their homeland of Tayrilla, their psychic abilities remained unparalleled, especially when detecting potential threats from beyond reality.

Sensing the tension, Charlie tried to lighten the mood:

"Maybe you're overthinking it. Anyway, our job is just to protect the agents. If anything unexpected happens, the fleet's main forces should be able to respond quickly. All we need to do is stick to our orders."

Narilita hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a quieter voice:

"Let's hope that's true. But, Charlie, keep your eyes open. If anything feels off—don't hesitate. Fire first and ask questions later.

"Even if it means accidentally shooting someone who doesn't deserve it, your survival is what matters most. Got it?"

"Got it," Charlie replied with a mix of sincerity and humor. "If things go south, I'll follow your advice."

"Good," Narilita said with a soft laugh, her usual cheerfulness returning.

"After the mission, let's talk again—or grab a meal together if we get the chance."

With that, she ended the call, leaving Charlie in silence.

He shrugged and closed the chat window on his HUD.

Although he knew little about the realms of psychic intuition, Narilita's words planted a seed of doubt in his mind, making him more cautious.

The fifteen minutes quickly passed.

The troops followed their HUD prompts, boarding their designated Pelican and Luna-class transports.

Charlie noticed how the Luna-class transport they boarded was being meticulously inspected by ground crews.

Large containers were being loaded into the vessel by Hex Mechs and cargo-hauling Lekgolo (Hunters), hinting that their mission would involve a significant amount of biological and mechanical reinforcements, as well as clone soldiers.

Taking his assigned seat in the transport, Charlie's thoughts drifted back to his earlier conversation with Narilita.

Though he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this mission than they were being told, he had no way of knowing just how far-reaching the stakes truly were.

In reality, neither Charlie nor Narilita had clearance to access the full details of the operation.

Their task was indeed to protect a group of agents from the Inquisition and Ordo Hereticus, veteran specialists who dealt with threats related to Chaos, the Warp, and existential dangers.

Their destination was a glassed, desolate planet—a former Covenant colony burned to ash.

Intelligence suggested that remnants of the Covenant might still be hiding on the planet, though its shattered ecosystem and proximity to the chaotic region meant it had long been abandoned by the Empire.

The planet's location on the border of Mortarion's jurisdiction made it a low-priority target for reconstruction.

For this reason, Colonel Janes Thompson's joint task force, alongside the agents, would conduct reconnaissance and assess potential threats.

However, what neither Thompson nor the 36th Fleet realized was that two of the Primarchs—Mortarion and Corvus Corax—had already taken measures in anticipation of a larger conflict.

Mortarion himself had secretly deployed elite units of the Death Guard near the chaotic region, while Corax's Raven Guard had sent their 4th Fleet to reinforce Mortarion's border planets.

If the recon team or the 36th Fleet encountered Chaos forces, both Primarchs were prepared to respond immediately.

With a Primarch leading the charge, the Empire would be able to counter any chaos incursion decisively and swiftly.

But for now, neither Charlie nor his comrades had any idea of the colossal events beginning to unfold.

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