Chapter 503 - Saint Doraemon's Domain

Sanguinius had never entered the Warp so lightly before.

This sea of souls, reflecting the real world, was always full of malice, extreme emotions, and twisted impulses, attempting to tear, devour, and distort Sanguinius.

But this time, Sanguinius' entry into the Warp was so smooth and seamless; the surrounding Warp showed him clear goodwill, welcoming him into that domain within the Empyrean.

Sanguinius' golden metal boots stepped onto the asphalt road, emitting a crisp sound.

Then—

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Sharp horn sounds suddenly rang out around Sanguinius.

Sanguinius opened his eyes with a slight bewilderment, looking around, only to find himself standing in the very center of a crossroads.

Many primitive vehicles around were frantically honking at Sanguinius.

A car window rolled down, and an empty can was thrown out, hitting Sanguinius.

Along with it came a string of curses:

"You foreign bastard!"

"Are you in a hurry to die?! Standing in the middle of the road!"

"If you want to be run over into a meat paste, I'll help you!"

It doesn't seem so benevolent after all.

Sanguinius reached out and caught the can thrown at him, cautiously observing his surroundings.

The vehicles looked relatively primitive, roughly from the early third millennium of humanity's history; to be more precise, they were designed in the late 20th century.

The architectural style of the nearby buildings also confirmed Sanguinius' guess. Most houses were not tall, appearing to be within a town, but looking further away, some taller buildings could also be seen.

It seemed that this should be a small town within a large city.

Sanguinius' gaze continued to gather information from his surroundings. He noticed that the writing on the walls around him was from the Nippon region of Ancient Terra.

But these were all superficial. Sanguinius' eyes swept over the crowds around him.

They appeared to be humans, but their essence was entirely of the Warp; they were daemons, extensions and fragments of the domain lord's consciousness.

It's just that they themselves didn't seem to realize it.

"Hey, foreigner, where are you from? What's your name? Why are you in Tsukimidai?" A police officer in a black uniform asked, guiding Sanguinius out of the crossroads while directing traffic.

"I am Sanguinius from Baal," Sanguinius said in a clear voice, "I am here to find a friend of mine. His name is Doraemon."

"Baal... Baal, oh, I remember now, the chicken paste from your country is very fragrant," the police officer said, clapping his fist into his other hand.

Sanguinius' expression subtly shifted.

But he still said in a gentle tone, "But I forgot how to get to Doraemon's house. Could you give me directions?"

"Doraemon?" The police officer pondered for a moment, stroking his chin. "Oh, you mean the Nobi family's child, right?"

"The Nobi family. From this intersection, head east, cross the bridge over the Tamagawa River, and then you'll see an empty lot with concrete pipes stacked up."

"Next to the empty lot is an old-fashioned house, that's the Kaminari residence. From Kaminari's doorstep, turn south, and at the next intersection, turn east again, and you'll see the Nobi family's house."

Sanguinius smiled, thanked the police officer, and walked in the direction the officer had pointed.

The police officer scratched his head, watching Sanguinius' retreating back.

"Why do I always feel like this foreigner looks familiar?"

"..Wait! Isn't he the endorser for Horus brand hand-pounded chicken paste?"

Following the road east, Sanguinius quickly saw the Tamagawa River the police officer had mentioned.

It was a reasonably wide river, and many fish could be seen swimming in its clear waters.

Sanguinius stood on the bridge, gazing at the seemingly calm river surface.

The river water reflected in his eyes, transforming into a surging torrent of the Warp, and the fish within it became shimmering soul-fires, bobbing and drifting in the Warp.

This Tamagawa River was clearly a reflection of the Warp itself within this domain.

Sanguinius only lingered there for a moment. After crossing the bridge and heading east, he quickly saw the so-called empty lot and the Kaminari residence.

The empty lot truly looked like an ordinary empty lot, with three heavy concrete pipes stacked on it, for unknown purposes.

Sanguinius' gaze lingered on it for a moment, then he felt the joyous laughter of children in his ears, and saw figures playing baseball, kicking soccer, flying kites, playing with toys, and even holding concerts on it, full of pure happiness.

But the essence of this empty lot was... the part Alexander had recently torn from Slaanesh's domain, which he had integrated into his own domain, transforming it into this empty lot.

And the Kaminari residence next door gave Sanguinius a similar feeling.

This quaint mansion was made of dark wood, looking like a mass of brownish-black night mountains from a distance, but closer up, one could see that the mansion's windows were broken, as if smashed by baseballs from the frolicking children around. Looking through the holes in the windows, one could only see a pitch-black expanse, nothing clear.

And in the courtyard, strewn with glass, there were many potted plants, each clearly meticulously cultivated, exuding vibrant vitality.

Had Alexander and Nurgle exchanged parts of their domains?

Sanguinius sensed the aura emanating from the Kaminari residence, feeling Nurgle's power flowing within it.

But this power was different from Nurgle's sluggish, decaying, subtly pervasive feeling; it was more volatile and impulsive, clearly a facet of Nurgle's domain, which Nurgle had placed into Alexander's domain.

Sanguinius had always been somewhat puzzled as to why Nurgle was so inclined towards Alexander, and why Alexander would consider Nurgle a reliable ally.

At least in Sanguinius' view, the Gods themselves were not very trustworthy.

Could it really be that the glorious, eternal 22nd century Alexander promised attracted Nurgle?

But... while the 22nd century Alexander desired was eternal, it was not necessarily decaying or stagnant. Could it truly satisfy Nurgle?

Although he felt curious, since Alexander had not explained to Sanguinius, Sanguinius would not ask.

Some things, merely speaking them or even asking them, would create ripples in fate, making everything different.

Sanguinius knew this; his understanding of the future and prophecy was almost the deepest among all the Primarchs.

The Archangel continued walking along the street and soon came to a two-story house along the road.

On the wall of the house's courtyard, a sign hung, bearing the three characters "Nobi Family."

Sanguinius stepped forward and gently knocked on the door.

"Dora-chan!"

"Your friend is here to see you!"

The Mistress of the Nobi family called upstairs, indicating to Sanguinius that doraemon was on the second floor.

Sanguinius smiled and thanked the bespectacled Mistress, then ascended the somewhat narrow stairs to the second floor, pushed open the door, and entered the room, which was about a dozen square meters in size.

To the left of the room was a bookshelf, on which were some books. Sanguinius glanced at them.

He found that they were all strange books such as "Overbearing Warmaster Falls in Love with Menopausal Me," "Why Be an Astartes if You're Broke," "Purple Mirror Nobles," "Salvaging plague zombies," "Lurking in Tzeentch's Demon Palace as a Talent," and "Achieving Immortality by Offering Skulls to the Blood God."

The front of the room had a window, and in front of the window was a desk with drawers. Sanguinius' gaze lingered on the desk's drawers for a moment, then he looked towards the center of the room.

A futon was laid in the center of the room, and a short-haired boy was curled up in the covers, sleeping soundly. Sanguinius' entry into the room did not disturb his sleep.

Just then, the cabinet door on the right suddenly opened, and a yawn came from inside the cabinet.

A blue metallic racoon-dog with a round, large head leaped out of the cabinet, its round feet hitting the floor with a crisp sound.

Then, this blue racoon-dog began to stretch its body in front of Sanguinius.

Afterward, the blue racoon-dog's figure shifted, returning to Alexander's appearance. He pulled out two dorayaki and two glasses of juice from the pocket on his belly, gesturing for Sanguinius to sit down.

Sanguinius silently sat opposite Alexander, observing him, then spoke softly:

"Your condition is better than I imagined. You've segmented your peripheral will; everything in this entire town is your manifestation, and every person is a fragment of your will."

"Then you used certain tools to hypnotize these fragments of consciousness, making them believe they are humans, living and working in this city. These fragments of will, all believing themselves to be human, converge to help you resist the Malicious Art's impulse to go to extremes."

"And your core will lives in this closet, mostly sleeping, preserving its humanity. It's truly remarkable that you've devised such a complex method."

"This is only what you see. In this city, there are also 'others' helping me deal with problems."

Alexander smiled, reaching out to pull an old television from a nearby cabinet, and said to Sanguinius:

"All the inspiration erupting in the galaxy now belongs to my domain. Managing and manipulating these inspirations is a complex project, not to mention the many faiths and prayers directed at me."

As he spoke, a figure appeared on the old television screen.

The figure had a fox-like face, a pointed mouth, three pointed tufts of hair on its head, and was quite short.

In front of the figure were many old telephones, ringing continuously.

A voice came from one of the telephones.

"Great Omnissiah above, by the grace of Saint Doraemon, I was inspired tonight to conceive a brand new type of semi-mechanical Adeptus Custodes sniper."

As the voice from the phone rang out, a vision appeared before the short child with the fox-like face.

It showed a warrior wearing an Adeptus Mechanicus Adeptus Custodes robe, holding a huge sniper rifle. What was striking was that his legs had been amputated and replaced with mechanical legs, about seven or eight meters long and resembling stilts, making him very bizarre, ugly, and comical.

"This design can help Adeptus Custodes snipers cross battlefield obstacles, easily occupy high ground on the battlefield, and even serve as a living watchtower—"

The voice on the phone continued to babble about his inspiration:

"I implore the Omnissiah to bestow a blessing upon me, to help me complete this magnificent design."

This abstract design left even Sanguinius speechless, and Alexander couldn't help but hold his head.

The short child took a deep breath and grabbed the phone:

"You're a standard Space Dwarves thinker, damn it!"

"If you dare to come up with such Votann-bred inspiration and designs again, I'll manifest right here and break your legs, then replace your lower limbs with two short wooden rollers, change your brain into a dwarf joke storage unit, convert you into an automatic dwarf joke-generating Servitor, and throw you to the Space Dwarves to tell them dwarf jokes for the rest of your life!"

With that, the short child abruptly cut off this dwarf inspiration.

"This is..." Sanguinius looked at the short child on the old television, his mouth twitching involuntarily.

"This is Xiao Fu, my new Greater Daemon," Alexander nodded and said, "He is responsible for helping me manage these divine inspirations."

"No, I recognize this is Xiao Fu, I mean his raw material, what is he composed of?" Sanguinius asked.

Actually, before asking this question, Sanguinius already had a slight guess in his heart.

"You guessed right, this is the Dragon of Mars, with the main will of the Dragon of Mars, and a bit of Vashtorr and Soul Forge fragments mixed in," Alexander said with a slight smile, "I'm in such good condition now thanks to his efforts. If it weren't for him, I'm afraid I would have been driven mad by those divine inspirations long ago."

"..Were the inspirations of all beings in the galaxy always so divine and human before?" Sanguinius couldn't help but ask.

"Of course not. It seems that after my ascension, my will influenced all living beings in the galaxy. Their inspirations were unconsciously affected by me to some extent, becoming... well, a bit malicious?" Alexander stroked his chin, glancing at the old television next to him.

In front of the Dragon of Mars-Xiao Fu, the phone that had just been hung up rang again. Xiao Fu angrily picked up the phone.

"Why is it you again? If you come up with that dwarf-minded inspiration again, I'll—huh?"

Xiao Fu's expression changed, then he burst out laughing:

"What do you mean you designed an automatic Servitor that can infiltrate the Space Dwarves' Ancestor Cores, steal their Ancestor Core's computing power to automatically generate dwarf jokes, and make the Ancestor Cores broadcast these dwarf jokes to the Space Dwarves?"

"Mastermind thinking, orthodox mastermind thinking."

"Your blessing request is approved. I'll make you grow inspiration mushrooms right away."

"Inspiration mushrooms?" Sanguinius' face was blank.

"This is an important authority I gained after my ascension, the mastery over the inspirations and creativity of all beings."

"I can stimulate, strengthen, mold, destroy... and even fabricate inspiration in the minds of all living beings."

"I can use this to promote the birth of new technologies, curb the emergence of certain technologies, change the direction of some technologies and events, and even allow people to be manipulated by me without their knowledge. For example, your desire to come to my domain, to see my situation, was actually an inspiration I planted in your mind, using it to call you to me."

"It's like planting fungi in moist soil and growing mushrooms, so I call them inspiration mushrooms."

"What exactly have you brought to this galaxy?!" Sanguinius couldn't help but exclaim.

"Love and peace, of course!" Alexander replied with a smile, "You know, I have great love for all living beings in the galaxy."

Sanguinius fell silent for a moment, then couldn't help but reach up and rub his forehead.

In this regard, Alexander was different from the Emperor; the Emperor had only one attitude towards xenos: kill. Alexander, however, was much more tolerant.

Whether it was the Aeldari or the Necron, Alexander could claim them to be subspecies of humanity.

If it weren't for the Tau Imperium mysteriously experiencing a robot rebellion, many Ancestor Cores of the Leagues of Votann starting to suffer inexplicable malfunctions, the Haemonculus' experiments in Commorragh becoming increasingly out of control, and various other xenos races also experiencing different internal problems, Sanguinius might actually have believed that Alexander had great love for all life in the galaxy.

He slowly lowered his hand from his forehead, and Sanguinius looked back at Alexander.

The reason he had visited this domain was that he had recently sensed that the malicious art domain was no longer as chaotic as before, but had become calm and orderly, clearly indicating that Alexander had completed the construction of the entire domain.

Then, an inspiration popped into Sanguinius' mind, urging him to visit this domain to see if Alexander was doing well.

Now it seemed that this was an inspiration planted by Alexander in Sanguinius' mind, using it to summon Sanguinius.

"So?" Sanguinius asked, wanting to know the purpose of Alexander's summons.

"Fabius Bile is seeking new support. This old 'traditional english doctor' has encountered a bottleneck in his research on New Humans. He is trying to steal the source code of the blood from Cawl."

"If he succeeds, he might actually create New Humans with physical performance close to that of a Primarch."

Alexander said to Sanguinius while munching on a dorayaki.

"That's not even the most dangerous part. More important than the New Humans is Fabius Bile himself."

"Back then, the Luna Gene Cult stole some power from the Warp and created the Blight, which parasitized the Emperor's Children."

"Sixty to seventy percent of the power used to create the Blight came from greed dissolution, and a small portion came from Malicious Art. It was an unhatched egg of a nascent minor deity."

"For ten thousand years, that seed has been frantically absorbing Fabius Bile's vitality and creativity, and it has already taken initial form, transforming into a chrysalis."

"And the New Humans created by Fabius Bile worship him as their creator, believing in him and adoring him, which also nourishes him."

"If he really succeeds in creating New Humans with near-Primarch performance and the ability to reproduce freely, then he will break out of his cocoon and ascend to become a minor deity, one of the competitors in the greed dissolution domain."

Sanguinius' expression darkened slightly.

He had also sensed something.

His prophetic abilities allowed him to hear a sharp insectoid chirping from the near future.

He saw a broken cocoon, withered butterflies and spiders emerging from it, ascending into the Warp surrounded by strange creatures, and then constantly laying eggs, reproducing, and giving birth to more and more deformed beings.

So it was Fabius Bile.

Sanguinius knew that Alexander was vying for the greed dissolution domain, and it was clear that Fabius Bile's actions were obstructing Alexander's path.

"Do you need me to eliminate him?" Sanguinius asked softly.

"..No." Alexander shook his head with a smile, "I facilitated Fabius Bile's breakthrough in his research on New Humans. The idea that obtaining the source code of the blood would allow him to successfully create New Humans was also an inspiration I planted in him."

Sanguinius raised an eyebrow slightly, seemingly vaguely understanding what Alexander intended to do.

"Fabius Bile is my bait. I want him to swallow the source code of the blood."

"Of course, it has to be done naturally, subtly. He must endure hardships and only then consume the source code of the blood."

"Let Fulgrim obstruct him. You, Guilliman, and Lion should not be involved in this matter."

Alexander finished eating a dorayaki and took another one from his pocket as he spoke.

"Then you'll have to give us something to do to keep us occupied, otherwise, it will be too obvious," Sanguinius nodded and said.

"The Tau Imperium is currently experiencing a robot rebellion. Internally, it can be described as a scene of vibrant life and burgeoning growth, but the Tau Imperium will eventually quell the robot rebellion."

"..But this isn't because they truly achieve victory, but because the AIs will go underground and hide. After this, they will lose all AI technology, and their production will suffer immense damage. Resources will be unable to meet demand, and living conditions across all internal strata will rapidly decline."

"The hidden AIs will further stir up social conflicts and conflicts between various castes and races, causing the internal contradictions of the Tau Imperium to escalate."

"Soon, an inspiration will emerge in the minds of some Tau: since everything is in chaos internally, why not externalize the conflict?"

"The hidden AIs will cooperate with this inspiration and cultivate a suitable social atmosphere among them, pushing the Tau Imperium to stake its national destiny on a full-scale war against Ultramar."

So that's what was happening. Sanguinius suddenly understood why the robot rebellion within the Tau Imperium had been escalating but never fully erupting into conflict; it was to give the Tau Imperium an opportunity to externalize its contradictions.

"But that's not enough," Sanguinius shook his head and said, "The Tau Imperium isn't worth three Primarchs intervening."

"Khorne will be involved. I've found him a new Champion, and the Blood God's tide will stir the entire battle."

"And the Orks. Such a grand war will also attract the attention of the Bonebreaker, and the Waaagh! will churn the entire battlefield."

The Blood God. Sanguinius' gaze shifted slightly, looking at Alexander with a hint of surprise.

He hadn't expected Alexander to actually manipulate the Blood God and incorporate him into his plan.

"The three of you will temporarily be held back by this melee, while Fabius Bile will seize the opportunity to act secretly, unnoticed, and naturally."

"Fabius will, of course, encounter obstacles, but he will ultimately obtain the source code of the blood through his own efforts. What a moving struggle."

"Then, a big fish will swallow it whole."

Fabius Bile was convinced that he had arrived silently, and no one could notice him.

His clones were acting in his stead throughout the galaxy, drawing attention across the stars, allowing him to operate in the shadows.

And Fabius Bile himself, without attracting any attention, had arrived at this planet hidden within the Warp.

This was the vacation world of the Lord of the Phoenix, and Fabius Bile knew the location of this world entirely because the technology required to design this planet came from his own handiwork.

Bile's boots stepped on the delicate skin of a young girl, leaving slight scratches.

After Bile took a step forward, a swarm of tiny spiders quickly crawled out from beneath the damaged girl's skin, tore away that piece of skin, and then burrowed into the hidden tunnels beneath the skin.

A sharp shriek of a young girl emanated, and the tiny spiders quickly dragged a freshly peeled piece of girl's skin, filling the gap, always maintaining absolute perfection.

And those delicate girls, specially bred in the tunnels for producing skin, were human subspecies specially designed by Fabius Bile.

Fabius walked on this planet and soon saw the person he was looking for.

In fact, Fabius Bile was unwilling to even call him human.

He was too ugly, too twisted, too grotesque, like a mockery of the former glory of the legion.

It was an Emperor's Children, with only half of his pale hair remaining, and a face full of greasy wrinkles displaying both pain and excitement. Looking down from his pale, grotesque face, one could see the snake-like suture marks on his neck.

That was Fabius Bile's handiwork.

Fabius still remembered what happened then.

This arrogant fool had provoked and questioned Fulgrim, so Fulgrim had chopped off his head with a sword, dragged his head, and placed it on the victory wine, which Fulgrim then drank mixed with blood and strong liquor.

But he had, after all, once been favored by Fulgrim, who regretted killing him. So Fulgrim ordered Fabius Bile to sew his head back onto his body.

Fabius Bile succeeded. Fulgrim's swordsmanship was so swift and sharp that the wound was perfectly smooth for suturing.

Fabius was sure that his craftsmanship had no problems, but for some reason, after his resurrection, he became increasingly deformed, twisted, and grotesque, becoming strange, terrifying, and living constantly in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, so much so that Fabius Bile was quite reluctant to see him.

If it weren't for the source code of the blood, Bile truly wouldn't have wanted to visit him.

"Lord Commander," Fabius addressed him by his former rank.

Eidolon, the former Lord Commander of the Emperor's Children, the first under the Emperor's Children Primarch during the Great Heresy, slowly raised his eyes, which contained both hunger and pain.

Beside him, a flayed girl was pouring potent drugs into a cup made of gold and jade in front of Eidolon.

This girl's senses had been adjusted; with the slightest disturbance, her flayed body would experience extreme pain.

The faint airflow generated when Fabius Bile spoke landed on her, and the pain it caused made her body stiffen, her movements stopping mid-air.

Bang!!!!

Eidolon smashed her body with a punch, turning her into a splattered mess of flesh on the ground.

Beside him, another flayed girl rushed forward, collecting the remains and wiping the blood-splattered ground.

"Quack, who allowed you to visit my domain without my invitation?" Eidolon raised his pale eyes, staring at Fabius Bile like a pale maggot.

"I'm here to inspect my work," Fabius chuckled twice, his gaze sweeping over the flayed girl.

When he modified them, he fully adhered to Eidolon's requirements: able to survive after being flayed, parthenogenetic, and with delicate skin.

"Looks like it's functioning well," Fabius' gaze moved from the girl and then fell on Eidolon, "But you don't look so well."

Eidolon's fingers crushed the cup he held. Anger rose on his grotesque face: "Whose fault do you think this is?"

"Fabius, are you seeking death and torment here with me?"

It's certainly not my fault, Fabius Bile thought. To be honest, Eidolon's current transformation was beyond Fabius' expectation.

Fabius had resurrected him and reshaped him, yet he had become so bizarre that Fabius himself couldn't understand it.

But he had also become more dangerous than before, truly peculiar.

"Whosever fault it is, we can make amends for them, as long as you help me get one thing," Fabius forced a slight smile and said.

"What?" Eidolon frowned. He was full of doubt, but hearing that Fabius had a way to cure him, he was still tempted.

"The wisdom of the Emperor, the blood of all Primarchs..." Fabius Bile said with a smile, "The source code of the blood. I need you to help me seize it."

"As long as I obtain its wisdom, I will be able to find a way to reshape your body and make you a brand new human."

When Bile mentioned the word 'Emperor', the flayed girl beside Eidolon, who was wiping the ground, paused for a moment.

But neither Eidolon nor Fabius Bile paid much attention to the girl.

Eidolon stared intently at Fabius Bile for a while, seemingly trying to discern some truth from the spider's face.

A moment later, Eidolon slowly said, "I can offer you help, and I can also tell you that you can enlist another ally."

"Oh?" Fabius' eyebrows raised.

"Someone is looking for you; he also needs your healing," Eidolon sneered, "He came to me, asking if I knew your whereabouts."

"Who is it?" Fabius felt curious.

"..Horus' son, our dear Black Warmaster. No, he should be called the Black Hellbrute now."

"Abaddon. Abaddon wants you to cure him, to free him from the Hellbrute's cage."

Upon hearing this, Fabius' smile widened.

And while neither Fabius nor Eidolon noticed, the flayed girl collected the remains of her kin and crawled back into the tunnels within the planet.

The girl crawled forward through the tunnels, eventually entering a spacious cavern.

In the center of the cavern was an idol made of piled flesh. The girl piled the flesh of her kin, which she carried, onto the idol, then knelt reverently before it, clumsily forming the shape of an Aquila with her hands.

"Emperor. The Emperor above."

The flesh idol looked down upon the girl from above, its hollow eyes gazing at her like two dark suns, filled with a tendency towards destruction in their profundity.

"Oh, right." Alexander finished the dorayaki in his hand and suddenly looked up at Sanguinius, saying, "I also need your help with one more thing."

"Oh?" Sanguinius showed a slight curiosity.

"I want the Black Sword, Sigismund's Black Sword. Help me collect all the Black Swords from the Black Templars."

After Sanguinius departed, Alexander's figure flickered for a few moments.

His physical size didn't change at all, but if Sanguinius were still standing there, he would have been surprised to find that Alexander's perceived stature had grown enormous.

This was because Alexander had awakened some of his consciousness fragments within the city, making them realize that they were not humans from a Taiwanese station in the late 20th century, but rather a part of Alexander himself. This caused Alexander's will to suddenly expand enormously.

However, it also brought some side effects; some extreme emotions began to arise within Alexander's will, giving Alexander some malicious, extreme, and excessive impulses.

Knowledge needed to realize those malicious impulses also popped into his mind.

For example, he could, in an instant, create a biological weapon that would spread among dwarves, causing their average height to decrease by another ten centimeters.

For example, he could create a Psyker radiation tower to tamper with the visions the Blood Angels saw during the Black Rage, making them see Horus and Sanguinius performing Sichuan opera.

For example, he could create a virus that spread through ink and parchment, changing all instances of "Imperium" to "Second Imperium" in the Ultramarines' archives.

"Oh, why am I so bad!" Alexander couldn't help but think to himself.

He suppressed the extreme emotions in his heart, curbed those malicious impulses, maintained his basic humanity, and cast his gaze beyond his domain.

Normally, Alexander maintained the same state as when he communicated with Sanguinius, completely cutting off his peripheral will and retaining only his most fundamental will, and for most of the time, he was asleep.

Now, he had awakened a small part of his will because he had a small meeting to attend.

Alexander took a small breath, and his will, like a torrent, permeated out of his domain and into the chaotic and disorderly currents of the Empyrean.

The currents of the Empyrean surged ceaselessly, a chaotic expanse where up, down, left, and right were indistinguishable, as were past and present.

In the Empyrean, there was no time, no space, no distance; here, will was everything, will shaped everything, and will filled everything.

Mortal psyker often mistakenly believed that the domains of the gods were actual, distinct existences, but that was merely an illusion seen by mortal, foolish eyes, a projection of the gods' will in the Warp, all mixed together.

It was like cups of liquids of different colors, immiscible with each other, poured into the same container; by looking through different filters, one could see different domains.

Alexander subtly awakened a hint of innovative inclination in his heart, and everything before his eyes became distinctly different.

The Warp presented a vast blue, where energy currents constantly changed.

Alexander silently observed this torrent. The power of the malicious art domain wove more and more inspiration, wisdom, and observational insight in his mind, allowing him to gradually decipher the fluctuations in this azure domain. He saw some shadows, a wellhead, and a sigh.

Alexander silently withdrew his gaze; looking any more would attract the attention of the lord of this domain, and he was quite difficult to deal with.

Then, Alexander again stirred a hint of curiosity and a hint of joy in his heart, and everything before his eyes changed once more.

Torrents filled with pleasure, indulgence, and hunger appeared before Alexander.

Alexander observed these torrents, seeing vipers writhing on the ground, dancers both human-like and not, dancing alone, and young girls gnawing on their elder brothers.

Alexander carefully observed the scenes in the torrent, gradually discerning some details and some of the schemes of the lord of this domain, which also attracted the attention of the domain's lord.

Slaanesh, who was currently ruminating, gnawing, and re-digesting Asuryan, suddenly raised his head, letting out a warning shriek of disgust and malice towards Alexander.

"A chimera of your level isn't qualified to 'ha' at me."

"I think I've been too kind to you."

With that, Alexander casually pulled out a Whip of Divine Punishment from his pocket.

With a fierce crack, a crackling bolt of lightning shot from the whip, piercing into Slaanesh's domain and directly into Slaanesh's body.

Slaanesh let out a shrill wail, like a young girl receiving 200 volts of electrocution from a coyote in the middle of the night, with a hint of excitement and pleasure mixed with the pain.

A moment later, the pain subsided, and the anger in Slaanesh's eyes melted away, replaced by a look mixed with shame, fear, and a hint of anticipation, as he looked at Alexander with tear-filled eyes.

Alexander did not entangle with him further and instead began to awaken a hint of anger and a hint of craving for war in his heart.

The scene before his eyes instantly changed, enveloped in rolling red sand, with battle cries echoing in his ears.

Before him was a throne cast from brass, upon which sat a giant clad in black and red interwoven armor.

The giant, wearing a dog-headed helmet, lowered his head slightly, looking at Alexander with the red-glowing eye sockets of his helmet.

"Omnissiah, Saint Doraemon, Alexander, welcome to my domain."

Alexander nodded slightly in greeting to the Blood God, then cast his gaze to his opposite side.

Purple, green, and blue Warp energies howled, coalescing into physical forms.

A figure, draped in a thin veil, a hybrid of snake, eel, and mermaid, possessing both the handsomeness of a youth and the charm of a mature woman, twisted its body, its tail coiled as it hovered in mid-air, seemingly unwilling to touch the dust on the ground.

Swarms of flies buzzed, forming a dark cloud that supported a plump, bloated figure above it. The figure cradled its belly, letting its intestines spill onto the ground, yet a gentle smile still hung on its lips.

A constantly changing entity twisted its body, at times sprouting feathers to become a giant eagle, at other times growing scales to transform into a multi-beast dragon, sometimes donning a hat to become a wizard with a strange smile, and at times picking up barbells to exercise.

But these were not their true forms, nor their actual appearances; these were merely strands of their will extended into the Blood God's domain, as seen through the eyes of Alexander's will.

The appearance Alexander saw depended entirely on his impression of them in his mind.

With a thought, Alexander began to distort his impressions of the Four Gods.

Instantly, Slaanesh transformed into a short young woman whose face simultaneously held both masculine and feminine beauty.

Nurgle became a plump older sister with a gentle smile, wearing a high-necked sweater and emerald green hair.

Tzeentch became a beautiful literature student with a pointed hat, glasses, and a school uniform. However, beneath the seemingly thin school uniform, robust muscles were hidden.

Only Khorne remained unchanged; his true form sat there, and the sliver of will Alexander projected could not distort his image.

Otherwise, Alexander would have definitely twisted his appearance into a dark-skinned, beast-eared mercenary older sister.

Khorne, Slaanesh, Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Alexander—five entities of the Warp gathered in Khorne's domain.

For them, whose stances, domains, and personalities were all at odds, to gather together could only mean one thing:

The Dark King.

"Some among us have committed extremely foolish acts." Tzeentch's will extended, naturally transforming into an understandable voice in Alexander's mind: "Slaanesh, Nurgle, Alexander, do you not understand what the birth of a Malicious Art Lord signifies?"

"I have observed the machinations of fate; the cursed one is already at his limit. In at most three hundred years, the Dark King will be born."

Facing Tzeentch's condemnation, Slaanesh expressed clear disdain.

For him, the Emperor being destined to ascend as the Dark King was far better than Ynnead occupying the erosion and destruction domain and ascending.

If Ynnead were born, only Slaanesh would be harmed, and Slaanesh alone would have to bear the burden.

But if the Emperor ascended as the Dark King, that would be a disaster for the entire galaxy, the entire Warp.

Everyone would have to bear the pressure together; it would no longer be just Slaanesh's problem.

If Slaanesh had to choose, Slaanesh would also choose to let the Emperor ascend.

Nurgle merely smiled, holding his belly—from Alexander's perspective, he was embracing his arms beneath his chest—but said nothing.

"Of course, the true culprit is you." Tzeentch's gaze turned to Alexander: "My proposal is only one: surrender a part of your domain, weaken the malicious art domain, and alleviate the pressure on the cursed one. This is good for all of us."

"If you want it, you have to come and take it yourself. You already know the rules." Alexander chuckled a few times, waving his hand to indicate that if Tzeentch wanted his domain, he could try to seize it himself.

"War is good; let's solve it with bloodshed." Khorne rumbled.

"There are too many entities in the Warp eager to carve up your domain; you cannot resist the great tide of the Warp alone." Tzeentch said in a lowered tone, imbued with persuasion and enticement.

"..Do you know the Old Ones once had a plan?" Alexander smiled, looking at Tzeentch: "They once intended to use the malicious art domain as a hammer, to have Vashtorr ascend and smash into the erosion and destruction domain, directly forcing the Dark King's birth. At that time, the Dark King would wield the furnace-hammer formed by the malicious art domain, burning down the entire star sea."

"Guess what? If the battle goes unfavorably, will I do the same thing?"

The hot air fell silent for a moment, finally broken by the Blood God's two or three battle cries.

"Then let us fight!" the Blood God roared.

Tzeentch and Slaanesh cursed a few times.

Only Nurgle, holding his belly, chuckled and said, "Why don't you listen to my opinion?"

"My guest, dear Isha, she can heal the cursed one to a certain extent, delaying his ascension."

Nurgle's words made Tzeentch, Slaanesh, and Khorne look sideways.

"Does she really have that ability?" Tzeentch said with a hint of doubt.

"I support it." Slaanesh giggled, thinking that if Isha left Nurgle's Garden, he would have an opportunity.

"But my guest is always timid by nature, afraid that some people might harm her. Should we provide some protection for little Isha?" Nurgle asked with a smile.

"If she truly possesses this ability, then her value is very high. I will not allow her to be eaten." Tzeentch narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Slaanesh, Nurgle, and Alexander.

As the goddess of life, Isha indeed likely possessed this ability, especially since Isha had been continuously drinking Nurgle's broth and analyzing Nurgle's viruses for ten millennia, transmitting methods to resist diseases to all life in the galaxy. Isha had long transcended the limitations of an Aeldari god, becoming an existence closer to the concept of a goddess of life for the entire galaxy.

Her ability to heal the Emperor to a certain extent was not surprising.

"Worth a try." Alexander also said with a smile: "Let's make an agreement: whoever harms Old Lady Isha will lose their head."

Isha indeed had the ability to heal the Emperor to a certain extent, but Alexander wanted her to go to the Throne Room not to make the Emperor last longer.

After all, once Alexander took over greed dissolution, with the weight of three domains, Isha's healing effect would quickly be erased.

Alexander's purpose in supporting Isha's journey was, firstly, to conceal his covetousness for the greed dissolution domain, and secondly, to improve the Emperor's condition so he could exert more power at a critical moment.

"I disagree!" Slaanesh objected.

But before he could continue speaking, Alexander's gaze flickered over:

"Who is this?"

"Haven't we always been the Four Gods of Chaos?"

"Which lesser god snuck in here, daring to speak at our table?"

As soon as Alexander's voice fell, Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Khorne expressed their agreement.

To them, this was a no-cost deal.

Slaanesh felt humiliated, but he was, after all, the weakest among the gods. With the Four Gods in agreement, his opinion was disregarded, and besides… being publicly humiliated like this actually gave him a little thrill.

"But this is ultimately just delaying tactics."

Alexander said in a calm and fluid tone:

"I have a way to solve the problem once and for all."

"The Emperor's faith comes entirely from humanity, and the reason he is so powerful today is also because of humanity."

"I am also a god of humanity; I can seize humanity's faith."

"As long as you cooperate with me in spreading faith among humans, improving human living standards, without hindering me or causing trouble for humanity, I can weaken the Emperor."

"You caused the trouble, and now you want us to concede benefits to you?" Tzeentch cackled in rebuttal.

"I caused the trouble?" Alexander couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Isn't this the trouble you four caused?"

"Did I instigate the birth of the Dark King? Who started the Great Heresy? Who helped the Emperor complete the Dark King's ritual? Who ultimately messed up?"

"Even if I hadn't ascended as the Malicious Art Lord, how much longer could the Emperor have lasted? A thousand years? Two thousand years? To you, that's just a snap of the fingers."

"Are you still planning to drag this out? Do you really want the Emperor to become so powerful that he can easily crush us before you're happy?"

Alexander coldly glanced at Tzeentch, Khorne, and Slaanesh. His words left everyone speechless.

Indeed, the Emperor's current state was, at its core, the result of the Four Gods messing up, coupled with their inability to reach a consensus, delaying until now, allowing the Dark King to accumulate terrifying power.

If they hadn't caused the Great Heresy back then, hadn't stirred the galaxy into this state, even if the Dark King were born, he wouldn't truly have the ability to destroy the entire galaxy; at most, he would achieve a new dynamic balance with the Four Gods.

"I am now giving you my plan."

"The Emperor believes humanity must be protected, but this protection doesn't necessarily have to be him, or the Dark King."

"In fact, the Dark King is the worst choice, which is why he is willing to cooperate with my ascension, willing to let me become the Malicious Art Lord, and willing to let me try to seize the majority of human faith."

"I will find a way to weaken the Emperor's power; you must cooperate with me and not hinder my actions."

"Once the Emperor is weakened to a certain extent, and I am powerful enough, the five of us will then join forces to suppress the newly born Dark King, dismantle and divide his domain, ensuring he does not completely destroy the galaxy."

Tzeentch listened to Alexander's words, his eyes rolling for a few moments.

"So, this is your goal." Tzeentch said in a lowered tone.

Alexander's only response was a slight smile.

Hehe, he actually believed it!

Tzeentch stared at Alexander, savoring his recent words.

Belief, doubt, hesitation, caution—a myriad of emotions rose and shifted within His heart.

But the Lord of Change, on the whole, believed what Alexander said.

This was indeed the only explanation for why Alexander and the Emperor would risk so much to forcefully seize the malicious art domain.

It was precisely because the Four Gods did not believe Alexander had reason to pursue the malicious art domain that they created such a great opportunity for him, allowing him to seize the gap and ascend to godhood.

The Emperor's hope that Alexander would ascend to replace him as humanity's protector, weaken His power, and finally unite with the Four Gods to fight against the Dark King, also aligned with Tzeentch's understanding of the Emperor.

However, Tzeentch still harbored some vigilance; after all, the Emperor, the cursed one, was also a trickster in the galaxy on par with Him. Although He believed most of it in His heart, Tzeentch still spoke:

"I don't trust your statement."

Tzeentch cackled twice, His tone filled with suspicion as He spoke to Alexander.

Slaanesh and Khorne, who were originally wavering and hesitant, heard Tzeentch's words, and the suspicion on their faces immediately receded by more than half, even making them trust Alexander a little.

"Thank you."

Alexander showed a sincere smile and said to Tzeentch, "Your doubt validates my honesty."

Tzeentch's expression of doubt, suspicion, and cunning froze.

The Lord of Change had recently been so engrossed in digesting the domains of muscle, fitness, excessive drug use, and the endless pursuit of a strong physique that He had somewhat forgotten how poor His reputation was in the Warp.

Originally, Slaanesh and Khorne, though unable to find flaws in Alexander's words, instinctively harbored doubts.

But when Tzeentch began to question Alexander, Slaanesh and Khorne's first reaction was not to join in questioning Alexander, but to suspect whether Tzeentch was trying to play some trick.

Tzeentch's questioning, on the contrary, made Alexander appear more credible.

They did harbor suspicion towards Alexander, but compared to Tzeentch, Alexander seemed so honest and reliable.

After all, Khorne was satisfied with his few confrontations with Alexander, and Alexander had indeed crushed Ynnead, satisfying Slaanesh.

"If I weren't trying to completely suppress the Dark King, why would I want to become the Lord of Malicious Art?"

"Many of you are familiar with me and know how much I value my identity as a human."

"I am now actively taking on the faith of humanity, and may even be corrupted by the erosion and destruction domain. If it weren't to suppress the Dark King, what else could it be for?"

Alexander said sincerely:

"Could it be that I still want to occupy the erosion and destruction domain?"

This made Khorne laugh in a low voice, and Slaanesh also chuckled twice, while Nurgle showed a caring expression.

"That would be truly terrible!"

Nurgle said with some trepidation, "Fortunately, you wouldn't do that."

Accepting the erosion and destruction domain would be tantamount to suicide. The current strength of the malicious art domain is far inferior to the erosion and destruction domain. If Alexander were to pursue the erosion and destruction domain, His only outcome would be to be overwhelmed and burned to death by the Dark King, becoming one of the sacrifices.

The ultimate result could only be the birth of the Dark King, who would then overturn the entire universe with both the erosion and destruction and malicious art domains.

"Why don't I just take over greed dissolution and Indeterminate Distortion too? I'll be the Four Gods all by myself."

Alexander said with a smile, winking at Tzeentch.

Tzeentch remained silent, but he too had some trust in Alexander.

However, what He didn't know was that His current state was actually within Alexander's expectations.

The key lay with the changeling.

The changeling was captured by the Emperor decades ago.

That young Lord of Change was essentially an embodiment of deceit, doubt, and chaos within Tzeentch's domain, symbolizing the most disordered part of Tzeentch's domain, a facet of Tzeentch.

But now Tzeentch had forgotten the changeling, or rather, the changeling had forgotten himself.

Alexander had repeatedly used the secret tool "Memory Disc" on the changeling. That tool could extract the memories of any existence onto a disc and freely modify them.

Alexander used this to make the changeling forget his true nature, forget his essence as a manifestation of a part of Tzeentch's domain, and instead believe himself to be a loyal Imperial Regent, the successor to Malcador.

This also indirectly altered Tzeentch's own memory, causing the part of Tzeentch's domain representing deceit, doubt, and chaos to become dormant. Coupled with Tzeentch's recent immersion in digesting the domains forcibly given to Him, Tzeentch's instinct for doubt became much weaker.

"If the Dark King can be curbed and the living beings in the galaxy protected, I am naturally in full agreement."

Nurgle, holding his belly, said with a gentle smile, "I will change the way I interfere with and influence humanity, cooperating with you so that you can occupy more of humanity's faith."

Khorne and Slaanesh still harbored some hesitation.

"I will ensure the intensity of war."

Alexander looked at Khorne and promised in a low voice, "There are still many planets in the galaxy that have not been reclaimed, and the Tau Imperium has recently been eager to cause us trouble."

"And Blood God, are you truly satisfied with the Dark King's constant delays? Don't you want to fight the Dark King?"

"..Alright, I will temporarily reduce the internal strife and bloodshed within your Imperium, and instead increase your conflicts with other races, with those humans who have betrayed the Imperium, and ignite wars between those planets currently unwilling to submit to the Imperium, to help you gain more human faith."

The Blood God finally nodded, agreeing to Alexander's proposal.

"Dark Prince, what are you hesitating about?"

Alexander lightly rubbed his forehead, displaying an expression of not understanding Slaanesh's hesitation: "If human society becomes better, won't your domain spread more effectively?"

Slaanesh lowered her head slightly; she had to admit that Alexander was absolutely right.

The current social environment of the Imperium was too high-pressure; her influence on humanity was far less than that of Nurgle, Khorne, and Tzeentch.

Slaanesh still remembered the daemons she had sent to Terra years ago, who had infiltrated as Terra nobles. Those unlucky souls experienced no enjoyment at all; it was all overtime.

"I will revive artificial intelligence in human society, allowing automated machinery to free up people's time. People with more time will naturally have more opportunities for enjoyment, which will benefit your domain."

"..Alright, I will cooperate with your actions to allow your faith to spread."

Slaanesh finally nodded, agreeing to Alexander's plan and promising not to interfere with his actions.

Finally, the Four Gods all looked at Tzeentch.

"Your chaos and changes can be spread in areas not yet reclaimed by the Imperium, and your domains related to muscle can also be spread within the Imperium. I know you cannot curb your instinct for change, but to curb the Dark King, I advise you to consider it carefully."

"Once the Dark King is born, there will be no change at all."

Tzeentch's expression shifted for a few moments, but He eventually verbally agreed to Alexander's request.

Alexander knew that Tzeentch, Slaanesh, and even Khorne would certainly play tricks and spread their influence in the shadows, as their promises had no binding force.

But that wasn't important; as long as their attention was diverted, it was enough. As long as they believed Alexander's goal was to weaken the Emperor's faith, strengthen his own faith, and seek to eventually overpower the Dark King, that was sufficient.

After the meeting concluded, the wills of Tzeentch, Slaanesh, and Nurgle receded and disappeared into Khorne's domain.

Alexander also left briefly, but after a moment, he conspicuously returned here, standing before Khorne.

"Do you have anything to say to me?"

Khorne looked down at Alexander and asked.

"Lord of Blood."

Alexander slowly began, "Do you desire war?"

Khorne gazed at Alexander: "I crave war at all times. What level of war do you promise me?"

"The grandest of great wars, the war to end all things—the war in which you will die."

Listening to Alexander's words, the Blood God laughed, a low, buzzing chuckle emanating from beneath His armor.

The steel-forged furnace hummed, and the modified Servitor, a blur, lunged at the Primaris Head.

This creation of Cawl's, clad in brand-new power armor, stood in the gladiatorial cage.

The power armor had not yet been painted, exposing the original dark red of the Belisarius Metal, and faintly, the crystalline patterns on the metal surface could still be seen.

The Primaris Head was already fully familiar with the properties of Belisarius Metal. This new alloy, manufactured using technology Cawl obtained from a secret tool, possessed extraordinary performance. Its hardness, toughness, and energy absorption efficiency all surpassed most materials in the Imperium, and its production capacity was also not low.

What truly astonished the Primaris Head was the metal within this new power armor.

The neural interface on the Primaris Head was not activated; this power armor was not connected to the Primaris Head through a neural interface, nor was it linked through force feedback technology.

Instead, it was a connection method whose principle the Primaris Head did not fully understand. This connection method made the Primaris Head not feel as if he had donned power armor, but rather that his skin and muscles had transformed into power armor.

It was like an organ grown on his body. There was no extra burden at all, and he didn't even feel its weight.

The Primaris Head moved his body, performing a light action that would be utterly impossible while wearing power armor in normal circumstances, leaping up like a gymnast, dodging the Servitor's dangerous attack.

At the same time, the bolter in his hand aimed at the Servitor's head as the Primaris Head's pupils shifted.

The bolter fired, but the Primaris Head did not pull the trigger. The bolter, connected to the power armor via an interface, read the Primaris Head's thoughts and fired the moment the Primaris Head's eyes aimed at the Servitor.

The Servitor's head exploded into pulp, and it fell heavily to the ground.

"Is the performance record complete?"

The Primaris Head removed his helmet and spoke to the small entity hovering nearby.

Mini-Dora raised its round hand, indicating that the work was complete, and the performance data of the power armor automatically appeared on the nearby cogitator computer.

With the advent of Saint Doraemon in the form of the Omnissiah, artificial intelligence technology within the Imperium of Man experienced a preliminary revival.

However, high-ranking members of the Adeptus Mechanicus did not often use artificial intelligence, as they were blessed with even greater boons.

Mini-Dora, these extensions of Saint Doraemon's power, would spontaneously manifest during bursts of inspiration and creative outpouring.

These divine beings possessed computational power that was stronger and more intelligent than artificial intelligence; their very existence could also enhance inspiration and mechanical operational efficiency.

They could even serve as a medium to borrow computational power and blessings from the Omnissiah, Xiao Fu.

For most members of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the more Mini-Dora that accompanied them, the more favored they were by Saint Doraemon and the Omnissiah, Xiao Fu. Only one person was an exception.

Just then, a yellow Mini-Dora appeared from the side, holding a data-slate with some messages. It was from the Clone Fulgrim Primarch, Fulgrim.

Looking at the information, the Primaris Head's expression froze for a moment; the air around him grew colder.

This was a common reaction during a Psyker outburst—the message stimulated the Primaris Head's precognitive abilities.

The Primaris Head saw it: spiders, lurking spiders, violet eyes, a hateful and cunning face.

A moment later, the Psyker illusion dissipated, and a strong, sharp pain shot through the Primaris Head's body—this was Cawl's failure. Cawl had created the Primaris Head, using technology and inspiration obtained from the source code of the blood.

Although the Primaris Head was called Primaris, his essence was far superior to an Astartes; he was Cawl's imitation and attempt at a Primarch. But Cawl had failed; although the Primaris Head was created, the flaws in his body caused him to endure intense pain at all times.

The more he used his powerful body, the more intense the pain became.

The Primaris Head took a deep breath, enduring the pain in his body, and looked at Mini-Dora: "Cawl has already seen this message?"

Mini-Dora nodded in confirmation.

The Primaris Head nodded slightly. He saw danger in this message, and he also knew that Cawl would surely be drawn to it. He had to go warn Cawl.

When the Primaris Head entered Cawl's workshop, Cawl was at his workbench, constantly manipulating a pile of tiny cutting tools, dissecting a cloned human body in front of him, humming a hymn of Saint Doraemon.

As Cawl continued to operate, several Mini-Dora automatically emerged and blossomed from Cawl's inspiration, but these Mini-Dora, after their birth, did not participate in Cawl's work, but silently floated to the side.

Dozens of Mini-Dora were already floating nearby, staring at Cawl with their round eyes.

Cawl always refused the help of Mini-Dora, claiming it was due to his pride, believing he could please Saint Doraemon solely with his human intellect, without the help of the Omnissiah, Xiao Fu.

But the Primaris Head suspected there was a deeper reason.

"My First-Cast, is your work complete?"

Belisarius Cawl said without lifting his head.

"It's done. Mini-Dora are very efficient; with their help, things are twice as effective."

The Primaris Head nodded and said.

"Oh! That is inevitable; this is the great power of Saint Doraemon."

Cawl's movements slowed for a moment, but he still replied in a flat tone, "But He is human, just like us, and human intellect can also follow in His footsteps."

The Primaris Head was silent for a moment, not continuing Cawl's conversation, but instead changed the subject: "Clone Fulgrim has sent a new message."

"Oh, I know that the Clone Fulgrim Primarch discovered one of Fabius Bile's laboratories, which contains technical details about cloning Primarchs. He wants me to research it."

Fabius Bile's laboratory and his technology for cloning Primarchs.

This information could indeed attract Cawl's attention.

The cloned Primarch Fulgrim seemed to have a certain obsession with Fabius Bile, his creator.

He was constantly searching the galaxy for traces of Fabius Bile, trying to capture him and unravel the mystery of his own birth.

However, Fulgrim himself had limited understanding of biotechnology and was not capable of deciphering Fabius' creations.

As the foremost Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Cawl naturally became Fulgrim's collaborator.

"He discovered a remnant of Fabius Bile's lab on Murder Star, containing several incomplete cloned Primarchs that were not fully destroyed. Clone Fulgrim hopes I will go to Murder Star for investigation and research." Cawl extended a finger, drawing a delicate nerve from the cloned body before him. His bionic eye's magnification allowed him to observe the nerve's twitching in greater detail.

"You cannot go," Primaris Head calmly told Cawl.

Cawl's movements stopped.

"I am Belisarius Cawl," he said. "There is nothing I cannot do."

"Even the Gods are not omnipotent," Primaris Head insisted, still evaluating.

"..Quite!" Cawl looked up at Primaris Head. "But I am a man."

"There is nothing humans cannot do, nothing human ingenuity cannot accomplish. He, They once taught this."

Primaris Head's throat subtly moved up and down. Cawl's words irritated him.

He suppressed the irritation from showing on his face, but in doing so, he failed to suppress the expression of pain.

A fleeting look of pain crossed Primaris Head's face. Due to the flaws in his body, he was in constant agony.

If Cawl truly was omnipotent, then he should... but Primaris Head ultimately did not voice this thought.

Cawl's mouth opened slightly, as if to speak, but in the end, he just turned his head away.

This reaction made Primaris Head clench his fists even tighter, feeling anxious.

Yet, he couldn't help but say to Cawl, "A spider has its eye on you, my prophetic abilities tell me so."

"..Oh, Fabius." Cawl nodded distractedly.

"He is very dangerous, I can see it. Like an old spider, about to break free from its cocoon. The laboratory on Murder Star is clearly a trap for you. You had best not foolishly walk into it."

"Oh, a challenge. I shall meet it," Belisarius Cawl said nonchalantly, as if Fabius Bile was not worth mentioning.

Primaris Head took a deep breath. He felt his lungs burning.

This was not merely a metaphor; his lungs were indeed in constant, burning pain.

This left him speechless. He also knew that anything more he said would not change Cawl's mind.

So he turned his head and walked out of Cawl's workshop almost without hesitation.

Cawl watched Primaris Head's retreating back, his fingers trembling slightly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he shook his head and said no more.

"Cawl, you are truly an arrogant fool." A low growl of accusation reached Cawl's ear.

Cawl looked with some helplessness at a panel beside him.

A golden-haired, stern face, like a profile on a coin, flickered on the panel.

"You could tell your Primaris Head more directly why you crave the technology for cloning Primarchs."

"..My Lord, since I have replicated the spirit of the Primarchs, why should I not attempt to replicate their bodies?" Belisarius Cawl turned his head and said to the panel.

"No, you haven't even replicated the spirit of the Primarchs." The degraded Guilliman displayed calmness and logic: "You once said that the Emperor almost destroyed all the technology that shaped us. You cannot create an organic Primarch, nor a mechanical one. I am merely a degraded imitation you made."

"You are always so logical," Cawl replied dryly.

"Then let me apply some logic," the degraded Guilliman said. "Primaris Head is the product of your arrogance, pride, and conceit. You have the source code of the blood in your hands, and the complete gene sequence of the Primarchs. How could you not attempt to create a Primarch? Not clone, but create one from scratch."

"But you said you couldn't create a true Primarch, which means you tried, but failed."

"Evidently, that failure was Primaris Head. Though he was born, he is very far from a true Primarch, and he suffers constantly."

"Cawl, you seek the technology for cloning Primarchs because you want to heal Primaris Head."

"..Perhaps I want to create a new product to replace him—"

"Shut up, Cawl!" the degraded Guilliman suddenly roared. "Do you think I am blind?"

"He is your Lupercal, isn't he?"

"First-born, first-made. You love him, and he loves you."

Cawl's body instantly froze, speechless for a long time.

"You could be more honest," the degraded Guilliman's words softened slightly.

"..As a created being, I have failed my master, twice."

"As a creator, I have failed my child."

"My Lord, I owe the first-made. I am not sure if I can place myself in the role of his father."

A hint of fear appeared in Cawl's eyes as he gently looked at the many Mini-Dora around him:

"If I accept the grace of Saint Doraemon and use his power, perhaps I could heal the first-made without the source code of the blood."

"But I truly cannot..." Belisarius Cawl shook his head vehemently.

"This is another one of your lies. You refuse the power of Mini-Dora, not out of confidence in your own intelligence, but out of guilt."

The degraded Guilliman watched Belisarius Cawl through the screen, observing Cawl's massive, grotesque body, only half of which was human.

"Yes, I may be the one in this galaxy who best understands what that one sacrificed," Cawl said bitterly. "I abandoned my human body for my mission. I was once extremely obsessed with the perfection of the human form, but ultimately twisted myself into this appearance."

"That one is like me, but the distortion he endured is a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand times greater than mine. This is the result of my, our incompetence. I truly cannot overcome the humiliation and guilt in my heart."

"But because of this guilt of mine, the first-made has to endure pain for even longer. Perhaps he will hate me for it. How then can I still call him son, or claim to be his father?"

"The created always yearn for the creator's approval and care, just as children crave their father's approval and care," the degraded Guilliman's tone softened further, like a father instructing another father.

"..Once I obtain the cloning Primarch technology, perhaps I will have an honest talk with him," Cawl nodded.

"Are you still planning to take this risk? To step into the trap the spider has woven for you?" the degraded Guilliman asked.

"My Lord, he is a spider, but I am no mere insect."

"The laboratory left on Murder Star likely contains only some peripheral materials and information."

"My deliberate entry into it is also a way to lure him out of his burrow and to me, so that I may obtain more valuable materials."

"You are always very arrogant in this regard," the degraded Guilliman nodded, not continuing to dissuade Cawl.

But Cawl stared at the degraded Guilliman, seemingly deep in thought.

"My Lord, you said that creations always crave the fatherly love of their creator." Cawl blinked his sole remaining fleshy eye. "..Does that include you, My Lord?"

"Not me. I have a true father," the degraded Guilliman said, shaking his head.

"No, no, My Lord. I wasn't referring to Lord Guilliman. I meant that, compared to the Emperor, I should logically be more like your father."

"..Cawl!!!!"

Before Cawl's words had even faded, a storm of anger, like a raging tempest, bore down upon the Archmagos.

It seemed Cawl indeed did not understand how to distinguish father-son relationships.

Unnoticed by Cawl, not far behind him, Alexander smiled as he watched this scene.

Inspiration constantly leaped from his fingertips, manipulating destiny towards his predetermined direction.

On Murder Star, Fulgrim was silently wandering through the remnants of Fabius Bile's lab.

This Murder Star was once the territory of the alien giant spider monsters. It was discovered during the Great Crusade, and the Emperor's Children, Blood Angels, and Luna Wolves had all fought on this planet, leaving many traces.

Fabius seemed quite interested in these peculiar alien giant spider monsters. At some unknown time, he established a laboratory on this planet, researching the genetic sequences and limbs left by the giant spider monsters, and attempting to clone Primarchs here.

Fulgrim gently extended a finger, caressing the broken tank before him. There was still a residual serial number on the tank:

"Cloned Primarch. Iron Ten. Ferrus Manus - 66 - B"

Fulgrim could recognize Fabius Bile's labeling style.

This tank belonged to a clone of Ferrus. '66' represented Fabius' sixty-sixth attempt, and 'B' signified failure.

This was a failed attempt by Fabius Bile to clone a Primarch.

Fulgrim mused that he, too, must have once had his own small tank.

Even for Fabius Bile, cloning a Primarch was no easy feat. It often required dozens, even hundreds of failures and the expenditure of vast resources to achieve a single, reluctantly successful outcome.

A nearly perfect clone like Fulgrim must have been an extremely rare occurrence.

Fulgrim recalled memories of living with Bile.

Those were not memories belonging to Fulgrim, not memories of a Primarch and an Astartes.

Instead, they were memories unique to Fulgrim, memories of a son and a father.

Fulgrim had once studied under Fabius Bile and even held him in reverence.

In the boundless galaxy, there was such a man who, in a world full of chaos, disorder, and irrationality, still insisted that the Gods did not exist, believing that human ingenuity could achieve extraordinary accomplishments. His spirit, his intelligence, all earned Fulgrim's admiration and respect.

Perhaps it sounds a bit strange to say this,

but Fulgrim harbored feelings for Fabius Bile that were almost filial.

He yearned for Fabius Bile's recognition, yearned to become a true Primarch, yearned to be Fabius' most perfect creation.

He always believed he had done very well, perfectly. But, but Fabius Bile abandoned him, like discarding a failure.

This deeply stung Fulgrim, hurting his dignity and, even more, his deepest desire for his father's approval.

"Bile, my creator."

Fulgrim took a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill with air:

"Why did you abandon me?"

"Why did you betray me?"

"Again."

Fulgrim's voice shifted from complex to hateful, from painful to angry, finally merging into a soft sigh.

"But I will see you very soon."

Fulgrim could, of course, see that this research facility was a deliberate trap left by Fabius Bile, most likely to use Fulgrim to lure out Archmagos Belisarius Cawl. Fulgrim believed the Archmagos would also realize this.

Fabius sought to hunt them, but were they not also hunting Fabius Bile?

It was precisely for this reason that Fulgrim had deliberately remained on Murder Star until now, rather than proceeding to Ultramar.

The Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar had recently been attacked. The alien faction known as the Tau Imperium had mobilized nearly all its forces, attempting to conquer Ultramar.

They spoke of "using the Tau Imperium's battlesuits to carve out lands under the starlight for the Greater Good," "The rise or fall of the Tau Imperium rests on this battle," "Those who oppose this war are unpatriotic," and "seven lives to repay the Greater Good, to eradicate human scoundrels."

The Tau Imperium leveraged this propaganda to rally a large number of alien factions, branding humanity as the sworn enemy of the Greater Good, and portraying the war between the Tau Imperium and Ultramar as a decisive battle for the fate of the galaxy.

But honestly, Fulgrim found it quite perplexing.

How did a battle with Ultramar become a determinant of the galaxy's fate?

One might think the center of the Imperium of Man wasn't Terra, but Macragge, and the Emperor wasn't the Emperor, but Guilliman.

Moreover, these Tau had colluded with the Dark Eldar and Space Dwarves, launching incessant incursions, harassment, and assaults. There were even hints of a Chaos' great hand pushing from behind, and such a chaotic battle naturally attracted the Green-skinned Orks.

Almost all alien species, except for the Tyranids, were participating in this grand event on Ultramar.

Currently, Guilliman, Sanguinius, and Leman Russ had already gathered their forces on Ultramar to confront the Tau Imperium.

Once the issue with Fabius here was resolved, Fulgrim would also join the war.

Delivering sweet genocide to the aliens—that's the true flavor of the Great Crusade.

As Fulgrim was lost in thought, footsteps suddenly echoed behind him.

Fulgrim's spirit instantly tensed. He instinctively blurted out:

"Bile?"

"Son?"

"Father?"

Fulgrim couldn't help but utter three titles, turning his head to look at the corner at the end of the dark corridor.

A figure twisted, sometimes splitting into three, sometimes merging into one, appearing somewhat strange and distorted. Faintly, some aura from Slaanesh emerged, but Fulgrim could also perceive that the figure was resisting Slaanesh's blessings and corruption.

So Fulgrim subconsciously believed it was Bile. Bile always refused to acknowledge the existence of the gods, and Slaanesh's corruption always entanglement around him, but Bile seemed completely unaware, acting as if nothing was wrong.

"..Primarch?"

"Father?"

The figure stepped out from the corner, looking at Fulgrim with a slight confusion.

That face, which strongly resembled a mix of Tawiz and Lucius, flickered in and out of the shadows.

Fulgrim was momentarily stunned, then realized it was the Phoenix Son's Chapter Master, Thor, who had once claimed to be Rogal Dorn's son, but was in fact his own Primaris progeny.

The clone Primarch felt ashamed and a little annoyed at exposing a vulnerable side in front of his progeny.

If it were the true Fulgrim, he would now draw his blade and swiftly and decisively cut off Thor's head, punishing him for seeing his imperfect side.

Fulgrim had indeed done this.

Fulgrim could see in his memories that Fulgrim had wielded his sword in this way, cutting off Eidolon's head.

That gloomy memory lingered in Fulgrim's mind, stimulating his nerves and transforming into one or two low whispers, as if from the depths of his soul, urging him to do similar things.

Ever since slaying that false Ferrus on Dragon Forest Star, whispers always echoed in Fulgrim's ears.

Fulgrim initially suspected this was a form of corruption, a manifestation of depravity, but he ultimately became convinced that he was not influenced by external forces, and no additional power from the Warp had invaded his mind.

Later, he suspected it was the awakening of some Psyker talent, but Fulgrim tried many times and never managed to unleash Psyker power.

Finally, Fulgrim could only conclude that this voice was an intrinsic part of him, a subconscious aspect, a mental facet, or, even worse, the manifestation of Fulgrim's dark and terrifying memories within his own mind—the dark, depraved, imperfect part of him, the thoughts he was unwilling to acknowledge but which truly existed.

Fulgrim believed he should use this for self-reflection and to correct his own thinking.

He curbed the irrational impulse and instead smiled at Thor.

"Thor, my child, I cannot be both your father and your uncle, nor the shame you seek to erase, the enemy you will eternally hate, the unforgettable idol, the object of jealousy, the role model you pursue, the resurrected purple Phoenix, and a replica of a fallen serpent."

Fulgrim chose to use a small, playful joke to cover his embarrassment.

Thor's expression, as expected, stiffened. His feelings for Fulgrim were indeed that complex.

He regarded Fulgrim as an enemy, and the lingering will of Tawiz deep within his soul felt the same. As Fulgrim's clone, he always exuded a scent of an easily corruptible nature.

Simply put, Fulgrim was like a maiden wearing only translucent gauze, walking alone on the streets of a Slaanesh daemon world late at night, every inch of him screaming 'vulnerable'.

For this reason, Thor was always full of suspicion, doubt, and vigilance towards Fulgrim, worried that this clone Primarch would become corrupted and fall.

Yet, Thor was always involuntarily drawn to Fulgrim's presence, instinctively loyal to him, obeying his commands, feeling honored to be by his side, and exhilarated by his praise.

Along with the memories hidden within his source code of the blood, those recollections of the perfect image of the former purple Phoenix, always echoed in Thor's mind and overlapped with Fulgrim.

So, although Fulgrim's words contained some teasing, Thor had to admit that Fulgrim was both the shame he sought to erase, the enemy he would eternally hate, and also his unforgettable idol, the role model he pursued, and... his respected father.

"Archmagos Belisarius Dora Cawl's Ark Mechanicus, the Explorer King, has arrived in the star system. He will soon set foot on Murder Star."

"Faster than I expected. It seems our Archmagos has made progress in his research on anywhere door again," Fulgrim said with a smile.

Thor nodded in agreement.

"Since Saint Doraemon's ascension, many technologies that had been stagnant for years have begun to redevelop. Artificial intelligence has also revived, many once complex matters have become simple, and the power of Mini-Dora is even greater," Thor said with a hint of reverence.

But his words made Fulgrim frown slightly.

"Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind," Fulgrim said softly.

Thor showed a slightly confused expression.

"This is an ancient maxim passed down from the Age of Strife," Fulgrim said with a smile. "People often believe it warns us to be wary of machines surpassing human control once they possess human-like thought."

"But I believe this saying is not a warning to machines, but a warning to humans."

"When machines can think for humans, do humans still need to think for themselves?"

"Man is a thinking reed. Can a man who does not need to think still be called a man?"

"Conversely, can a machine that can think like a human be more human than a human who does not think?"

Thor was momentarily speechless.

Between a human who doesn't think and a machine that thinks like a human, which one can truly be called human?

"Thor, the reason that Lord has revived artificial intelligence is not because the problems with artificial intelligence have disappeared. Indeed, it is impossible for artificial intelligence to betray humanity now."

"But in our private meetings among the Primarchs, we have come to believe that the Iron Men Rebellion erupted not merely because of the Iron Men's disloyalty."

"..Perhaps that Lord allowed artificial intelligence to revive simply because we were about to face a greater crisis before the crisis brought by artificial intelligence even emerged."

"So you must remember, machines can assist your thinking, but they must never replace your thinking."

"I understand, my Lord," Thor said, bowing his head in humility.

Fulgrim showed a slight smile.

"In this sense, artificial intelligence and gods are very similar."

Upon hearing this, Thor again showed confusion.

"Both create an intelligence that surpasses humans, replacing human minds in thought."

"Whether it's for artificial intelligence or for faith, Cawl is the one who does it best."

"You might think his technological breakthroughs come from the restoration of artificial intelligence and Mini-Dora, but Cawl has actually been using his own mind more, rather than relying on artificial intelligence and faith."

Thor's expression shifted, surprised that Cawl, relying solely on his own intellect, could achieve accomplishments no less than those Adeptus Mechanicus sages who used Mini-Dora and artificial intelligence to think.

"And you, how are you doing?" Fulgrim asked Thor as they walked out of the laboratory.

"I can barely suppress his will, extracting sword techniques and power from his will bit by bit," Thor told Fulgrim, subtly clenching his left hand a few times as if sensing the power within his body.

Lucius, the soul of Slaanesh's chosen Lucius, still remained within Thor's body.

Originally, Lucius cooperated with Thor, providing him with considerable power, but after Saint Doraemon's ascension, Lucius had been trying to possess Thor.

Thanks to Fulgrim being nearby at the time, his mere presence suppressed Lucius' soul.

Subsequently, Fulgrim pleaded for Sanguinius' help.

Sanguinius gave Thor two options.

The first was for Sanguinius, using his own Psyker abilities, to borrow a bit of the Emperor's Psyker power from the Astronomicon and directly incinerate Lucius' soul. However, the problem was that Lucius' soul and Thor's soul had already fused, which might cause some side effects, though Saint Doraemon's power could later be requested for healing.

The second was for Sanguinius to help Thor suppress Lucius using a method that would give Thor the opportunity to resist Lucius' possession with his will. During this process, Thor could also slowly seize Lucius' memories, sword techniques, and power, allowing him to completely internalize them as his own strength. The drawback was the risk of being corrupted by Slaanesh if he was not careful.

For Thor himself, the first option was the best, with almost no side effects and minimal risk.

But option two had other value.

Sanguinius told Thor that Slaanesh had invested a certain amount of power in Thor, clearly hoping for Thor to become His new chosen, thereby corrupting the entire Phoenix Son and Fulgrim.

The longer Thor resisted, the more power Slaanesh wasted, which would be more beneficial to the overall situation.

Thor ultimately chose the second option.

Not only for the greater good, but also because... Thor vaguely realized that a larger war was coming, an era like the Great Crusade where he could achieve great deeds.

He hoped to gain more power to lead the Phoenix Son to win more honor and wash away the stain on the Emperor's Children.

Ultimately, Sanguinius retrieved a Psyker essence from Ms. Reyna and, after amplifying it, injected it into Thor's body. The purpose of this Psyker essence was to temporarily empty Thor's will for a few seconds when Lucius' possession and Slaanesh's corruption struck, giving Thor a chance to resist the corruption with his own will.

"If you are possessed or corrupted, I will preserve your final dignity," Fulgrim whispered to Thor.

Thor understood Fulgrim's meaning.

Fulgrim would personally bring Thor's end.

"Me too, Father," Thor said, looking at Fulgrim. "I will not let our honor be defiled again."

"That will be difficult for you," Fulgrim said with a smile.

"It's easier than bearing the defilement of honor, easier than watching the Phoenix turn into a serpent again," Thor said in a low voice.

Fulgrim just smiled and said nothing more.

The two walked out of Fabius' laboratory and beneath the cloudy sky.

The Phoenix Son's Primaris warriors were patrolling nearby, leaving a small clearing only in front of Fulgrim and Thor.

A moment later, a clicking sound of a door opening echoed in the clearing. A massive anywhere door, dismantled into pieces and then reassembled with a series of ugly steel structures, appeared in the clearing.

Amidst the surge of steam, the door opened, and Belisarius Dora Cawl, clad in a crimson robe like a metallic giant worm, emerged from behind the door, stepping onto this desolate planet.

But what truly captured Fulgrim's attention was not Belisarius Cawl, but an Astartes standing beside Cawl.

The Astartes wore an unpainted power armor of an unknown model, exposing its metallic original color. He was taller than an average Astartes, seemingly a Primaris Astartes.

But... Fulgrim showed an expression akin to a startled cat for a moment.

This Astartes resembled him and his brothers—not just one, but all of them.

He walked with the lightness of a shadow, reminding Fulgrim of Corax.

He clearly possessed Psyker talent, reminding Fulgrim of Magnus.

He seemed unfathomable and ambitious, reminding Fulgrim of Guilliman.

His aura was like the igneous rock of Medusa, reminding Fulgrim of Ferrus.

His movements were almost flawless, reminding Fulgrim of himself.

The moment he saw him, Fulgrim realized what Belisarius Cawl had created.

He was so bold, so audacious; he had used gene sequences from the source code of the blood—not just one, but all of them.

He wanted to create a Primarch, one that possessed not just the characteristics of one Primarch, but all the characteristics of all Primarchs.

A Primarch more "perfect" than a Primarch. Clearly, Cawl had failed, but this failed product still possessed extraordinary power.

Fulgrim actually felt jealousy towards him. The thought of him being as elegant as himself, as resilient as Ferrus, as beautiful as Sanguinius, as stealthy as Corax, and as ambitious as Guilliman, made Fulgrim feel a fire named jealousy burning deep within his heart.

That voice, that voice from the depths of Fulgrim's being, a voice close to his essence, spoke:

+How can there be a more perfect being in this world than a Primarch?+

+How can a mortal create a being that surpasses you?+

Fulgrim smiled, trying his best to suppress the jealousy in his heart.

But that Astartes, the Primaris Head, stared at him, as if sensing the emotions in his heart.

Angron. This thought instinctively popped into Fulgrim's mind.

Subsequently, Fulgrim felt the jealousy in his heart recede significantly, as if it had been eliminated by the power of the Primaris Head.

Fulgrim was surprised by the Primaris Head's ability, but what followed was not gratitude, but even stronger jealousy.

The Primaris Head suddenly retreated a few steps, and an emotion of fear emanated from his soul, as if he was frightened by Fulgrim's intense jealousy.

Fulgrim looked at the Primaris Head's unsightly display, first feeling a hint of satisfaction, then intense guilt and shame.

He nodded slightly, apologizing to the Primaris Head, then quickly looked at Cawl, smiling:

"Welcome, Archmagos Belisarius Cawl."

Cawl looked down at Fulgrim, his flesh eye moving slightly: "Has your creator, your father, arrived?"

Fulgrim's smile stiffened slightly.

"Great Despoiler, this medicine comes from a precious gene sequence that I exchanged from a Slaanesh daemon. It is said that the Slaanesh daemon obtained it from a female officer on Cadia, but unfortunately, I have not yet found the specific source of this gene sequence."

"After injecting this medicine, your mental resistance will be significantly improved, including resistance to pain and demonic influence, but the side effect is a decrease in cognitive ability, a decrease in mathematical ability, and the utilization of Psyker power will only be left with instinct."

"I will inject it for you now."

The medicine was pumped into the Hellbrute's body.

"Fabius, you humiliate me, but you cannot humiliate me."

"Although this medicine of yours will affect my resolute will, it is highly unlikely that my will will be affected by your medicine."