MTLNOVEL Chapter 1: chapter 1
Chapter 1: Beginning – Istvaan V
[Welcome to the future, Bucky.]
This was the first voice Bucky heard after waking from his long slumber.
The light of the stasis pod flickered out, and the ancient being, sealed for ten thousand years, regained the ability to move.
A wave of disorientation, accompanied by chaotic memories, surged through his mind. He blinked, glancing around the dim chamber, and soon recalled where he was—the stasis room.
"What time is it now? How long have I been asleep?"
[3,658,765 Earth days have passed since you entered hibernation.]
"Yes, ten thousand years. What a long time."
Bucky stepped out of the stasis pod, moving his stiff legs as he adjusted to his regained mobility. He paused briefly.
"If I've been awakened, that means humanity is finally facing that terrible future."
Bucky, the sole executor of the Future Reinforcement Plan, hailed from the 21st millennium—a golden age when humanity had spread across the galaxy, wielding technology powerful enough to reshape the stars themselves.
During that era, warp travel connected the farthest reaches of human space. Advanced AI governed entire civilizations, and the invention of the STC (Standard Template Constructs) revolutionized the construction of infrastructure across the galaxy. Humanity thrived, expanding from the black hole at the Milky Way's core to the distant void beyond Andromeda.
The galaxy belonged to mankind.
Yet beneath this golden age burned an unseen fire. Warp travel unified humanity, but within that realm of chaos lurked entities with malevolent intent.
Bucky recalled his final conversation with the Chief of the Alliance Science Division before joining the Future Reinforcement Plan ten thousand years ago.
"Despite our unprecedented achievements, I am not optimistic about the future of mankind," the Chief admitted.
The Chief, one of the most brilliant minds in human history, had overseen the greatest technological advancements of the age.
"The Warp is an ocean of the immaterial. It appears calm and gentle at times, but when it boils—when the hidden eyes behind the veil finally open—we will face an extinction event unlike any before."
Bucky had struggled to understand the Chief's pessimism. He had witnessed too many miracles wrought by human ingenuity to believe in such a grim fate.
"We command a fleet that can roam the stars freely. Even the arrogant Eldar, who call themselves the Aeldari, do not frighten us. What could possibly defeat our legions of Iron Men and Stone Men?"
The Chief's expression remained unchanged, betraying neither hope nor fear.
The truth was clear—humanity's most formidable creations were also its greatest threats.
Forbidden weapons could shatter stars with ease. Swarms of nano-insects devoured planets, stripping them to their core for resources. The Stone Men, engineered for unparalleled intelligence, and the Iron Men, AI-driven warriors, stood at the forefront of technological supremacy.
Even the very laws of physics had become mere guidelines, as humanity began experimenting with time and space itself.
"But what happens when these weapons turn against their creators?"
The Chief's words left Bucky in silence.
He had lived through countless wars, seen humanity rise from primitive ambition to cosmic dominance. He had also witnessed firsthand the bitter cost of civil strife.
"We have compiled most of the STCs from our civilization and stored them in a final backup. It will serve as a lifeline for humanity's future."
"But technology alone isn't enough. That's why we chose you."
The Chief's voice grew softer.
"Your immortality has allowed you to survive from the distant past to the present. You were born when humanity still gazed at the stars from its cradle. You have seen our species take each step from infancy to godhood."
"Unlike the so-called Golden Men, your genes have not been edited or perfected. Compared to them, you may seem primitive—flawed, even. The Golden Men were sculpted for perfection, immune to disease and aging, their intelligence enhanced a hundredfold, their physical prowess beyond human limits."
"Yet perfection is itself a flaw."
"There is no return from genetic modification. The deeper they walk down that path, the more possibilities they lose. But you, Bucky, you are different. The inefficiencies and redundancies in your genetic code hold untapped potential."
Bucky had memorized every word the Chief spoke, though one question lingered in his mind.
"Why won't you and the others come with me?"
The Chief had smiled then, as if reading his thoughts.
"Everyone has their mission. We belong to this era."
"Humanity is losing its reverence for the universe. Gene manipulation has become reckless, psychic experimentation spirals toward disaster. Someone must remain behind to temper this madness—to guide humanity while it still has a chance."
The Chief then changed the subject.
"We never named this project. Since you are its executor, you should decide."
Bucky had paused for a moment before speaking.
"Let's call it Red Alert."
When the specter of extinction loomed over humanity, Red Alert would reignite the flame of civilization and hold onto its last hope.
As the sedative took effect, Bucky's vision blurred, yet he struggled to take one last look at the Chief.
The Chief raised a hand in farewell.
"Please, let humanity endure. Keep the torch of civilization from being extinguished."
The hatch of Red Alert sealed shut. The sound of mechanical locks echoed through the chamber. The Chief watched as the ship, guided by its AI pilot, disappeared into the endless void of space.
"Goodbye, my friend..."
---
006.M31, Istvaan System
A dead world.
Nuclear fire had torn mountains apart, flattened valleys, and reduced entire landscapes to molten slag. The atmosphere boiled with radiation and the echoes of war.
The planet's surface was a graveyard of craters, filled with toxic sludge—polluted groundwater, molten metal, and the blood of uncountable dead. The air reeked of rust and decay.
A ripple disturbed the surface of the stagnant pools, signaling approaching footsteps.
"The scent of the rats is here."
A cold, rasping voice broke the silence.
A squad of massive warriors clad in gray-green power armor advanced, wielding wickedly serrated scythes. They were towering giants, standing over eight feet tall—Astartes of the Death Guard.
Even in this poisonous, irradiated wasteland, these warriors thrived. The toxic air reminded them of their homeworld, Barbarus.
"Four months have passed since the Drop Site Massacre, and yet these pests still skulk beneath our feet."
"The Primarch's patience is wearing thin. The Warmaster has crushed the Iron Hands, Salamanders, and Raven Guard. Soon, our fleets will march on Terra itself."
The lead warrior knelt, analyzing a droplet of blood in the dirt.
His genetically enhanced senses processed the data instantly—the wounded prey would not last more than two days.
Silence settled over the battlefield.
The Death Guard stood motionless, weapons at the ready. They knew their enemy well—Astartes, like themselves.
Warriors capable of surviving nuclear fire and orbital bombardment.
The ground trembled.
Their armor's sensors detected faint tremors. The Death Guard immediately dispersed, their enhanced reflexes barely fast enough to react.
"AMBUSH!"
With an earth-shaking explosion, the terrain collapsed. The battlefield became a deathtrap as the traitors were swallowed by a pit of detonated charges.
The hunt had begun.
And in the shadows, Nykona Sharrowkyn watched, blades drawn, ready to deliver death.
(End of Chapter)