Eden skimmed the file on Matila's administration: tens of thousands of pages, with hundreds more just for the .
All he'd wanted was to transfer the sector capital to Urth and integrate Matila under his own system...which was straightforward in theory, but with nearly 100 billion inhabitants, a top-to-bottom reform was unimaginably vast.
He immediately regretted showing "interest." In the absence of a psychic network, there was no "AI assistant" to filter the data.
Eventually, the specialized staff would produce a concise summary for Eden—only a few pages. His job would be to review that and sign off. But it was painful even to glance at the monstrous raw file.
But a bigger problem loomed: with each new planet conquered, the summary for that planet's governance could still be several pages.
Once multiple planets were under him, that'd be a mountain of paperwork daily. The Imperium's high lords were perpetually buried in even more bureaucratic sludge. They had to rely on anti-fatigue drugs, bionic enhancements, or partial lobotomization just to keep up.
Sleep became a luxury. Such was the cost of power in the Imperium. Indeed, each lord's decisions could determine the fate of countless billions, so they had no freedom to just walk away. And while such a life was grueling, countless would-be power-brokers still fought tooth and nail for it.
But Eden wanted no part of that. He wanted to take it easy.
Still, if his territory kept expanding, the daily administrative load would explode. "That's no way to live," he sighed, draping himself across his chair like a salted fish. "I have to change this now or it'll be too late once the bureaucracy grows."
He decided to seize the post-war lull to overhaul how tasks were delegated. Summoning Bayev, Arye, Deville, Popov, Tako, Case, Kaul, and other key figures, plus tens of thousands of administrative staff, Eden spent several days in grueling meetings, nearly frying his brain.
But better to endure it once for a major fix than get stuck forever. Thanks to his highly centralized regime, it was faster than in the Imperium, which might have required decades of politicking.
In the end, Eden devolved more power to the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the Ministry of Military Affairs, and so on.
They could run day-to-day matters without requiring his personal signature. He kept the right to intervene at any time, but otherwise didn't need to micromanage.
If this were a typical Imperial overlord, his underlings might usurp him the moment he delegated so heavily. But Eden's "blessing" made those core personnel utterly loyal, so he was safe. Freed of most admin, Eden could focus on expansion or the occasional major crisis.
A week later, the giant meeting concluded. Eden practically collapsed, sleeping a full day. Once awake, he felt liberated—no more seas of documents.
Bayev, on the other hand, had to shoulder twice the previous workload. But for a blessed steward of unwavering loyalty, that was manageable.
Indeed, Eden cherished Bayev like gold. In this realm or the Imperium, a truly capable manager was priceless.
Eden assigned him entire teams of Apothecaries, plus a personal Thunder Guardian detail, to ensure his health and safety. He planned to eventually give Bayev gene-enhancements and a second blessing, so he could handle any volume of tasks.
September 30, clear weather.
Sunbeams filtered through the Dreamweaver's dome. Eden reclined on a poolside lounger, wearing sunglasses, sipping a chilled drink.
He casually munched an "apple-peach," a pricey local fruit that required precise storage at 18.5°C or it would spoil quickly. He was enjoying its cool, sweet crunch when he felt a ripple from the Warp...
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