Warhammer: I Am a Golden Man, Rebuilding the Dark Age of Technology

[Warhammer 40K] [Transmigration] [Building from the Ground Up] [Building a Faction] [Mass-Producing Troops] [No System]

I was such a fool. I really was.

Back then, a shard fell out of the Crystal Labyrinth. They said it was a fragment of a divine authority. Before I reached for it, I even warned the brother beside me, "This thing feels wrong." Then, after warning him, I still reached out.

When I opened my eyes again, all twelve golden men were sprawled in a crevice of the Warp, while the Three Gods outside argued furiously over how to divide the spoils.

I was the chief of the Human Federation for four thousand years. I signed the order for the great interstellar colonization, and the banner of the Twelve Golden Ears was planted in every corner of the galaxy. It wasn't until I was locked inside a seal that I finally realized which book I had transmigrated into.

I realized it far too late.

On the day Slaanesh was born, the Eye of Terror burst open. We tore through the seal and fled in all directions.

Now I've crawled out of a garbage heap in the underhive of an Industrial World. In the trash beneath me, there's only a badly rusted Aquila casting plate and a water purifier. Thank heavens, even after twenty thousand years, it still recognizes my fingerprints.

Fine. I'll start over.

Food, clinics, classrooms, factories, courts, armies: I'll build them one by one. From the underhive to the hive city, the planet, and the star system, I'll climb the ladder step by step and first make sure the people of the Imperium can live like human beings.

My old brothers scattered across the galaxy, I'll bring every one of you home.

Neoth, when I see you on Terra, don't say a word. I want to punch you first.

The Dark Age of Technology was no legend. I built it once with my own hands twenty thousand years ago. I can build it again.