Taking advantage of the golden opportunity when the Avatar of Tzeentch was completely distracted by the hundred terracotta warriors, Raynor stopped clashing head-on with his opponent.
He no longer cast any dazzling spells, nor did he swing the Emperor's Sword to create sights and sounds, retracting the vast majority of his external authority fluctuations.
He followed that thick, brilliant golden thread of soul bond between himself and Sarah.
Utilizing the inherent soul-linking bridge of the system, like an almost imperceptible faint consciousness, he silently approached the body of the Frost Dragon trapped by the massive psychic web.
This pathway was rooted in the soul contract they had forged over a long time, serving as a secret bond exclusively belonging to them.
Even Tzeentch, whose entire mind was occupied at the moment with dealing with the surging flood of terracotta warriors, failed to notice Raynor's covert little maneuver in the first instance.
Soon, Raynor's consciousness touched the body of the Frost Dragon entwined by the massive tentacled web.
Sarah remained trapped in a numb state where her consciousness was being extracted, giving no subjective response.
But Raynor was already able to exert dominance over this massive dragon body across the psychic web, driving the body to make physical-level reactions.
The next step, and the most crucial one, was to reignite the Shadow in the Warp.
To summon the collective will of the hundreds of millions of Tyranids, regroup their power, and protect their primary consciousness subject, the Queen Sarah.
Raynor's consciousness sank further along the soul bond, beginning to take over Sarah's supreme control over The Swarm.
In an instant, an overwhelming, vast ocean of information surged madly into Raynor's mind like a roaring tsunami.
The perceptions, emotions, survival states, and gene fragments of hundreds of millions of Tyranid individuals distributed across Brevis and Dead World-A.
Countless trivial and complex data surged over like a tide.
If it were in the past, when Raynor was still just a mortal body of flesh and blood, such a massive amount of information impact...
would be enough to instantly blow up a human brain, directly causing his thinking to overload and his skull to shatter on the spot.
But at this moment, he was already a psychic conceptual avatar who had awakened the source of dominance.
The instinct originating from the authority of dominance activated automatically, and countless mechanisms for shunting, classification, and filtering operated silently.
The massive amount of information was methodically split and sorted, filtering out the vast majority of useless noise, leaving only the core Hive Mind signal.
Raynor withstood this terrifying information flow bombardment with almost effortless ease.
Without a moment's delay, Raynor immediately mobilized this newly taken-over authority of The Swarm.
He guided the wills of the hundreds of millions of Tyranids scattered across various planets, beginning to constantly converge toward the outer boundary of this Warp interlayer.
The thoughts of countless Tyranid individuals crossed the distant starry sea, stacking and condensing bit by bit, accumulating power.
Waiting only for the moment to arrive to thoroughly activate them all at once, catching the Avatar of Tzeentch off guard.
Inside the interlayer, the Avatar of Tzeentch, who was shattering the last few terracotta warriors, finally caught a hint of a dangerous omen.
It abruptly stopped the offensive in its hands, its avian head whipping back, and those thousands of eyes filled with trickery stared fixedly at the main body of the Frost Dragon bound by the massive tentacled web.
It finally perceived that on the outer side of the interlayer, a collective will of terrifying scale was continuously taking shape.
Tzeentch could never sit back and watch Sarah be awakened by the external Hive Mind and break free from control.
It ignored the remaining terracotta warriors, raising high the magic staff covered with eyes in its hand.
The giant eye at the top of the staff opened, black chaotic psychic energy gathered crazily, and several disaster black-purple lightning bolts tens of meters in diameter suddenly generated in the void.
"Annihilation!"
Several destructive psychic disaster lightning bolts, carrying the power to destroy everything, tore through space and struck straight toward the physical body of the Frost Dragon Sarah.
It did not intend to continue slowly extracting the soul anymore, planning to directly and thoroughly destroy this physical body of Sarah, cutting off the vitality of this precious specimen.
"Not a chance!"
Raynor's roar resounded through the void.
This time, it is my turn to protect you.
He unhesitatingly urged his hundred-meter-tall purple Avatar of Dominance, his figure flashing as he moved laterally straight across, blocking right in front of the Frost Dragon's body.
He did not dodge, using his own authority-incarnated body to forcefully take several monstrously powerful disaster lightning bolts head-on.
Rumble~~~!!!
The pitch-black, violent psychic disaster fiercely bombarded Raynor's Avatar of Dominance.
The purple-golden domain of dominance trembled violently, its outer layer of light shell being scorched and melted in large swaths, and that set of conjured dragon robes directly turned into scattered light fragments.
Even the stable domain of dominance experienced brief turbulence and instability, with countless fine cracks rapidly spreading across the boundaries of the domain.
Severe pain washed over Raynor's consciousness like a wave.
Even though he was already a lesser Warp god, this blow still brought him a tremendous burden.
But the price paid was not in vain.
Just in that brief moment when Raynor forcefully endured the attack, outside the interlayer space, the wills of the hundreds of millions of Tyranid individuals had completely finished assembling.
Countless psychic signals from different Tyranid units intertwined and resonated with each other.
Weaving an incomparably massive and heavy psychic network.
This huge network of will penetrated inward, firmly enveloping the body of the Frost Dragon Sarah.
Forcibly isolating Sarah's soul and consciousness from the violent and chaotic Warp.
The soul-plundering effect inflicted by the Avatar of Tzeentch on Sarah began to be continuously weakened layer by layer.
The efficacy of the massive tentacled web used to extract consciousness and absorb souls plummeted rapidly.
The time had come!
Raynor forcefully suppressed the pain transmitted from his avatar, and his authority of dominance erupted with full force.
Following the soul link, the majestic power of command struck outward fiercely, forcibly snatching back the dominance over Sarah's body from the control of the psychic web woven by Tzeentch.
The thousands of tentacles entwined around the Frost Dragon twisted and struggled frantically, Tzeentch's sorcerous power still making a final stubborn resistance.
Yet under the dual pincer attack of the external isolation by the Hive Mind's will and Raynor's internal dominance power, the binding effect of the web retreated steadily.
Raynor's hundred-meter towering purple Avatar of Dominance took a large stride forward, extending its huge light-forged arms.
As if picking up a kitten, he steadily gathered the massive body of the Frost Dragon into his arms.
The massive web woven by psychic tentacles disintegrated inch by inch under the dual impact of the Hive Mind's will and the power of dominance, turning into chaotic light mist dissipating across the sky.
Sarah, whose consciousness was continuously being sucked away by Tzeentch, trembled her eyelashes slightly.
The dragon pupils that had been dormant for a long time opened once again.
Sarah finally awakened.
What is more blissful than waking up after almost dying, only to be in the arms of your beloved?
What could be more blissful than waking up after nearing death, to find yourself lying right in your lover arms?
Mobilizing her own hundreds of millions of Tyranid neural pathways to search repeatedly, Sarah could not find a second experience comparable to it.
Just a minute ago, she was still deeply trapped in the soul web woven by Tzeentch.
Those giant webs intertwined by chaotic tentacles not only imprisoned the physical shell of the Frost Dragon, but also bit by bit devoured and stripped away her hard-won independent self.
The spiritual silk threads formed by the convergence of hundreds of millions of Tyranid units snapped and dissipated one by one.
Those were the foundations she had desperately torn out from the hive mind to construct the personality of "Sarah".
Death was not terrifying to the Tyranids; what was truly terrifying was the complete eradication of the self.
Melting back into the hive mind, or being carried away by Tzeentch to become an inescapable plaything in the hands of the Lord of Change.
That feeling was not the burning pain of flesh and blood, but rather existence itself being erased by an eraser.
It was as if her emotions, all her memories, and all the time spent with Raynor were about to turn into nothingness.
But now, the suffocating sense of bondage had vanished like smoke in thin air.
She opened her vertical pupil-shaped purple dragon eyes, and what met her eyes was the hundred-meter-tall purple domination avatar of Raynor.
Within that pair of eyes accustomed to calm decisiveness, there was no chill of battlefield slaughter, leaving only undisguised heartache and boundless pampering.
Always rational and efficient, accustomed to prioritizing survival and missions, the solid psychological defense of Sarah completely collapsed after escaping death.
The Frost Dragon, whose towering and terrifying physique was enough to sweep across the entire space station, was at this moment like a young beast that had suffered immense grievances.
Her massive dragon body curled up slightly, and her huge dragon head was buried into the wide, light-forged chest of the domination avatar of Raynor, her hard chitinous dragon horns gently rubbing against the purple energy body.
Completely ignoring the surging psychic aftershocks of the Warp still shaking all around, and ignoring that the unvanquished enemy was close by.
She just stayed lingering in the arms of Raynor, burying her head and acting spoiled, completely unwilling to move away even a bit.
In this shattered crack of the Warp, fragments of spatial islands left over from the previous battle floated everywhere.
The black rifts torn open by the previous domain collision were still spitting out chaotic energy, and the ripples of the storm swept across the surroundings in circles.
Not far away, the eighty-meter-tall divine Avatar of Tzeentch was coldly watching the two embracing figures.
On its outspread giant wings, tens of thousands of eerie pupils suddenly contracted together,
The flowing deep blue psychic light was stirred into an almost morbid cyan-blue, clearly angered quite a bit by the scene before it.
It seems that even gods cannot endure the stinky stench of romance.
As the Lord of Change who wields change and destiny, it had read through infinite timelines and witnessed the sorrows and joys of countless civilizations in The Galaxy.
In its eyes, the entanglements of love and hatred between mortals and aliens were nothing more than dramatic fragments for it to toy with.
Yet the web it had meticulously laid out was about to capture two unique and precious samples, only for the prey to be snatched away alive by the opponent.
And to show affection right in front of it made the anger in the heart of the Avatar of Tzeentch burn fiercely.
Its multiple flexible arms raised high simultaneously, and at the base of its palms, pitch-black and twisted chaotic curses crazily converged and surged, with dense runes representing trickery and destiny swirling and dancing on its palms.
It no longer wanted to continue probing and gaming, intending to directly pour out destructive witchcraft curses to tear the two embracing people apart together and completely end this farce.
The formless, chaotic noise-filled thought shook the entire rift void with towering anger:
"Ridiculous bonds! Before the torrent of destiny, they are not worth mentioning!"
But Raynor did not fall into panic.
His arms steadily embraced the massive and heavy body of the Frost Dragon, his gaze earnest and firm as he lowered his head to look at Sarah in his arms, whose face still carried some lingering fear.
The roaring psychic storms around seemed to slow down for this moment.
"Sarah, we are going together now."
The Frost Dragon raised its huge head, and within its purple dragon pupils, the grievances of having just survived a disaster faded away.
What remained was only unreserved resolution and trust, heavily responding with a single word.
"Mhm!"
The moment the words fell, the barriers of the two souls completely dissolved, and the wills bridging the gap between humans and the Tyranids began to meld seamlessly.
The towering body of the Frost Dragon began to disintegrate, its thick scale armor shattering and turning into flowing, shimmering silver-white starlight all over the sky.
Like a cascading brilliant galaxy, following the outline of the domination avatar of Raynor, it continuously poured into the purple light body.
At this very moment, the domination divine spark that Raynor had awakened alone was completed by Sarah, and the foundation of the divine spark was thoroughly solidified and perfected.
The purple domination avatar began to undergo violent and bizarre mutations.
On the surface of the originally majestic humanoid dragon head, an insectoid transformation began to take place.
Layer upon layer of cold-glowing Tyranid chitin grew from inside the light body, covering it.
Behind the avatar, void energy crazily surged and churned, and three pairs of giant chitinous wings comparable to Warp behemoths, as huge as a Flyrant, abruptly unfolded and spread out.
The edges of the wing membranes were covered with dense, pitch-black thorns, with each thorn flowing with a faint purple radiance.
The size of the entire avatar continuously swelled and grew taller.
One hundred and ten meters, one hundred and thirty meters, one hundred and fifty meters!
Until it reached a height of one hundred and fifty meters, the expansion finally stopped.
The majestic outline of a feudal monarch and the unspeakable mutated characteristics of the Tyranids intertwined with each other.
Mixed upon the dragon head were the ferocious, retracted mouthparts of the swarm, and the surface of the originally luxurious crown was covered with dense chitinous spikes.
The outlines of the Imperial Sword and the Jade Seal in its hand did not dissipate, but were wrapped layer upon layer by a flowing pale purple biological film.
At a glance, it looked like a feudal supreme monarch ruling over all lives and things, thoroughly imbued with the unspeakable mutated power of the galactic predator.
A majestic sense of oppression that was difficult to describe in words scattered in all directions, and even the rampaging Warp turbulence around instinctively bypassed this newborn colossal body.
The Avatar of Tzeentch opposite felt this the most keenly.
Its thousands of pupils trembled violently, clearly perceiving that the overall power of the opponent before it had skyrocketed several times over compared to before.
The originally evenly matched scale tilted violently at this moment.
But among the countless layers of contingency plans of Tzeentch, the option of "failure" never existed.
Even if the situation had completely deviated from the vast majority of destiny branches deduced by it, it was still unwilling to admit defeat just like that.
The Avatar of Tzeentch suppressed the shock in its heart and no longer engaged in pointless emotional venting.
Four pairs of giant wings fiercely churned the surrounding chaotic energy, and the magic staff covered with pupils was raised high above its head, crazily urging its own authority.
Large areas of violent and disordered Warp turbulence bred out of thin air, and one after another chaotic storms sufficient to tear apart ordinary Greater Daemons formed successively, roaring and howling.
Overwhelmingly, they crushed down toward this newborn domination avatar, which could be considered a blasphemy even within the Warp.
The rolling chaotic waves obscured half of the starry sky of the rift, and countless distorted psychic missiles were poised and ready within the storm.
But times are no longer what they used to be.
After completing the consciousness connection and fusion with Sarah, Raynor held a brand-new power sufficient to subvert the battle situation.
The mutated giant palm raised, and the domination avatar under the [Sarah Link] state once again unfolded its own authority domain.
A thin yet indestructible purple film rapidly spread and extended outward from beneath his feet.
The film was like the solid ice condensing on the surface of a winter lake, expanding outward all the way, first completely wrapping around his own domination domain.
Then it continued to devour and erode outward, and even the domain of Tzeentch symbolizing infinite transformation was completely enveloped and closed by this film shimmering with a deep purple luster.
The moment the film completely closed and sealed, the entire massive body of the Avatar of Tzeentch trembled violently.
"Not good!"
At a single glance, it recognized the origin of this power—it was the Shadow in the Warp!
In its perception, the Shadow in the Warp could at most only affect Swarm units themselves, serving to sever connections with the Warp to achieve an anti-psionic effect.
However, it had never seen the Shadow in the Warp utilized in such a manner.
It was no longer merely a passive isolating barrier.
Instead, it had transformed into a cage, forcefully severing the steady supply of energy between itself, the God of Magic, and the underlying Chaos Warp source behind it!
This event fell completely outside all the possibilities of destiny it had ever calculated in the past; it was truly unheard of.
The torrent of magic that had originally poured incessantly from the Sea of Chaos to sustain the Avatar of Tzeentch in battle was instantly cut off.
Having lost the infinite magic blood transfusion from the Warp source, the flaw of the avatar—which relied on the soul of the mortal sorcerer Atia as an anchor—was completely exposed.
The maximum capacity of Atia's soul vessel was not high to begin with; previously, it depended entirely on continuous infusions from the Warp to endure high-intensity combat.
Now that its supply was choked off, the Avatar of Tzeentch finally ceased its incessant chatter and mockery.
No longer able to utter its iconic line, "Everything is going according to plan," it fell into a brief silence.
In the next second, the three pairs of chitinous giant wings behind the 150-meter-tall Avatar of Dominance [Sarah Link] flapped violently, turning it into a streak of purple lightning that surged right before the Avatar of Tzeentch.
After the fusion, the Avatar of Dominance was nearly twice as tall as the Avatar of Tzeentch, pressing down on the void like a towering mountain.
The battle that followed turned into a near-one-sided, brutal beating.
Raynor no longer insisted on relying purely on the Authority of Dominance for long-range suppression and conceptual battles.
The constantly flowing Shadow in the Warp swirled around the entire surface of his avatar's body; any sorcery or curse cast by the Avatar of Tzeentch...
...would be dispelled and neutralized layer by layer by the flowing purple shadow the moment it took shape and burst forth, without even getting the chance to touch the avatar.
With all its spellcasting rendered ineffective, the Avatar of Tzeentch was forcibly dragged into a close-quarters physical brawl—the aspect it was least skilled at.
Even though the Avatar of Tzeentch possessed a near-omniscient perspective of observing fate,
and could observe and foresee the attack trajectories of each of Raynor's punches, dashes, and whip kicks in advance from countless future time branches,
being able to see the future did not mean having enough time to react.
After completing the Sarah Link, the speed generated by Raynor's body had already exceeded the reaction threshold that this Avatar of Tzeentch could process at a hardware level.
It had clearly seen in its fate preview that Raynor would instantly flash above its head and strike downward with a heavy whip kick,
yet that prophecy from the future had barely surfaced in its consciousness before the devastating physical force actually slammed heavily onto its avian head.
BOOM! A tremendous roar echoed through the rift void.
The 80-meter-tall massive body of the Avatar of Tzeentch was sent tumbling rapidly downward out of control by this blow.
Dragging a long trail of eerie blue spiritual light, its massive body plummeted rapidly toward the floating spatial wreckage below, smashing an entire massive spatial island to pieces.
Thousands of eyeballs erupted simultaneously in a silent, furious screech.
This suffocating powerlessness of clearly seeing every attack coming yet having a body unable to keep up with the foresight tormented the avatar of the Lord of Change severely.
Compounded by the Warp energy channel being isolated and cut off by the Shadow in the Warp, without the continuous magic infusion from the Sea of Chaos, the spiritual light around the Avatar of Tzeentch grew increasingly unstable.
The entire massive divine power body began to flicker like an illusory projection with insufficient power, its sense of tangibility constantly fading, while its stored magic depleted at an alarming rate.
Raynor seized this fleeting opportunity, giving his opponent no room to breathe.
His giant chitinous wings trembled incessantly, turning into streaks of purple thunder as he pursued relentlessly.
Punch after punch, kick after kick, a tempestuous onslaught continuously slammed into the body of the Avatar of Tzeentch.
Every violent collision sent out ripples of psionic shockwaves that shook the entire rift space.
The floating spatial islands all around shattered into pieces under the shockwaves, sending massive chunks of rock and metal fragments flying into the dark universe.
The Avatar of Tzeentch was beaten back step by step, several of its arms used for casting spells and fighting shattering into nothingness under the heavy blows.
It could only continuously consume the meager magic remaining in its body to barely reconstruct its broken limbs time and time again.
Yet each reconstruction further overdrew its already depleted energy reserves.
It could finally no longer endure being unilaterally tormented like this.
Since the possibility of turning the tide in a head-on battle was completely severed, it ceased engaging in battle with Raynor.
In secret, the Avatar of Tzeentch activated a secret ritual that it had been quietly accumulating and operating since the start of the battle.
Across the shattered Warp rift, its unhinged, wild laughter suddenly echoed.
Countless high and low tones overlapped and echoed together, the laughter filled with insane mockery and the chill of a successful scheme.
Raynor could not decipher the scheme hidden behind this wild laughter, but he did not hesitate either.
His mutated giant body surged forward instantly, his giant fist wrapped in the Authority of Dominance and the original power of The Swarm slamming heavily into the core of the Avatar of Tzeentch's body.
BANG!!!
A dazzling, blinding explosion erupted, sending fragments of eerie blue Chaos spiritual light scattering in all directions.
Under the strike of this devastating heavy fist, the physical avatar projected here by Tzeentch suddenly crumbled and shattered into pieces.
Looking at the fragments of Chaos spiritual light gradually dissipating across the sky, the Avatar of Dominance actually made a breathing motion.
Raynor also thought in his heart that this arduous, grueling battle in the Warp had finally come to an end.
Yet just a moment later, a bone-chilling sense of unease gripped his entire mind.
The Avatar of Tzeentch had been defeated and fallen, but the Tzeentch Domain—unlocked by Atia's sacrifice to welcome the arrival of the Chaos Army into the material universe—
did not vanish along with the destruction of the avatar.
Not only did it not vanish, but the domain broke free from its restraints and began to expand and swell outward at a crazy, rapid rate.
Through the horizon of the rift, Raynor could clearly see that in the material universe, Planet Brevis was about to face an unimaginable, fatal catastrophe.
A layer of thick, hazy blue mist surged frantically out of the Warp rift's exit like a tidal wave.
At a terrifying speed almost akin to teleportation, it spread and expanded wildly toward the entire planet of Brevis.
Wherever the mist passed, the planet's atmosphere twisted and disturbed strangely, and the lights of the Hive Cities went out one by one.
Whether it was the live ammunition fire of the Planetary Defense Force (PDF) or the Macro-cannon bombardments from the orbital star fortresses,
or even the dispel and purification spells cast by Psykers with all their might, none of them had the slightest effect.
No means could stop the spread of this blue mist; every attack hitting the mist was like a stone sinking into the deep sea, completely dissolved and neutralized.
Under the mist's envelopment, the towering Hive City spires of Brevis saw their alloy building materials weather, rust, and peel off at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The ancient, immutable ice sheets on the vast ice plains mysteriously melted and collapsed, while deep within the rock layers of the continental plates came dull vibrations like a mournful wail.
The moment that ominous eerie blue mist completely enveloped and swallowed the entire planet of Brevis,
the biological signals of hundreds of millions of living beings across the entire planet began to plummet and extinguish like an avalanche.
Even the geological structure of the planet itself stepped toward death and disintegration step by step under the erosion of the ritual's power.
This was not the lingering aftermath of battle after the avatar's defeat.
It was one of the trump cards Tzeentch had buried long ago.
The Ritual of Annihilation!
Even if its physical avatar projected here was completely defeated, this ritual had already been set up in advance and could operate independently without the avatar.
It intended to use the entire planet of Brevis as a sacrifice, using the planet's own Biomass, crust, and core energy, combined with the souls of the hundreds of millions of living beings on the planet, as raging fuel,
thereby spawning a terrifying spell with power sufficient to reach a god-slaying level!
Brevis had completely fallen into Tzeentch's scheme, becoming a giant pile of firewood waiting to be ignited.
Watching Brevis begin to perish, Raynor knew he had to do something.
Across a spatial rift that severed the Warp interlayer from the material universe, having completed the fusion of Sarah's will,
The massive Avatar of Dominance hovered quietly amidst the chaotic Warp currents, silently overlooking the apocalyptic scene playing out in the material world.
From the bottom of his heart, Raynor did not covet the title of Governor granted by the Empire.
But Brevis was by no means just a title symbolizing status.
Dobby, that greenskin Gretchin who had struggled to survive from the very bottom of society, influenced imperceptibly by him, and developed a multitude of complex human-like emotions.
Gus, the iron-blooded soldier who had broken free from the shackles of past humiliation, could stand on his own, and carried the heavy responsibility of a grand general.
Leo, the descendant of the Saint Gallus Family who valued loyalty and guarded the family's bottom line.
Solin, the Inquisitor whose stance wavered, yet was willing to reach a secret tacit understanding with him.
And Doudou, along with the surviving boys of the Hokage Clan, not to mention the Butcher who had followed by his side since the dark underbelly of Necromunda.
These friends and loyal subordinates were all still trapped on that dying planet at this very moment.
Aside from the bonds between people, Brevis was also the core foundation that Raynor and Sarah had painstakingly cultivated up to now.
Buried within the planet's ice fields were massive military reserves of the Tyranids.
Countless gene-cultivation pods, biological laboratories, and Tyranid sub-consciousness nodes spread across the entire planet.
The resources and layouts accumulated bit by bit over countless bloody battles for so many years were all rooted here.
Reason and emotion alike dictated that he could absolutely not watch helplessly as Brevis turned into cosmic dust.
A heavy resolve settled within Raynor's consciousness.
He had to intervene in the material universe and try to avert this catastrophe.
Behind the massive Avatar of Dominance, three pairs of spine-covered giant chitinous wings trembled violently, carrying with them surging and tumultuous powers of dominance.
Raynor charged with all his might toward the spatial rift connecting to realspace.
But the moment the avatar's body touched the boundary barrier where the Warp led to the material world, an irresistible force of repulsion suddenly erupted.
Its purple light-cast body trembled and shook violently, and large flakes of purple light-dust from the avatar's shell continuously dissipated and peeled off.
No matter how Raynor urged the power of dominance to squeeze forward and crash through,
That layer of invisible law barrier remained stubbornly ahead, firmly isolating him within the scope of the Warp.
Clearly separated from Brevis by only a thin spatial fissure, right within arm's reach, it felt as though they were separated by an entire sea of stars, completely unable to step foot into reality by even half a step.
At this moment, Raynor instantly came to a complete realization.
Even powerful and tyrannical Chaos Greater Daemons were never able to descend into the material universe entirely at will.
They had to rely on spatial rifts in the mortal realm, or evil rituals completed through mortal sacrifices.
And they needed a physical vessel capable of tolerating Chaos energy as an anchor to project a portion of their power into the material dimension.
As for himself now, even though he had awakened the complete origin of dominance and his power tier already rivaled lesser Chaos deities, his essence still belonged to a conceptual entity born from the Warp.
Lacking the support of a mortal anchor, the laws of the material universe instinctively repelled his existence; attempting to force his way through with brute strength alone made it utterly impossible to set foot on the land of Brevis.
The extinction ritual was still operating continuously, and the decline and fall of Brevis intensified with every passing minute and second; the time left for Raynor to ponder countermeasures was already running out.
Massive thoughts flowed rapidly within his consciousness, one plan after another being deduced and negated, until a conventional method finally surfaced in his mind.
He mobilized the power of dominance, activated the system, and contacted Dobby.
...
At this moment, on the edge of the Brevis battlefield, Dobby was already in a near-death, desperate situation.
That gigantic rock mecha that had accompanied him on campaigns in Dead World-A for a long time and possessed a majestic aura,
Had long since disintegrated under the scouring of the psychic fog overflowing from the extinction ritual, its metal components melted by Chaos energy into a pile of useless scrap metal.
The greenskin race inherently possessed decent psychic resistance, possessing a tolerance far exceeding ordinary mortals against the corrosive damage of the Warp.
But resistance after all did not equal complete immunity.
The power overflowing from Tzeentch's god-slaying sorcery was like a never-receding corrosive tide, continuously gnawing away at his flesh.
Everything in the surrounding world was collapsing and disintegrating.
The Hokage Clan boys who had charged here alongside him, Doudou, and the host of demons previously summoned to assist in battle were all swallowed by the deep blue psychic fog, leaving not even a fragment behind.
Looking out across the shattered earth, only he remained all alone, clinging to his last breath.
When that familiar voice, carrying a faint divine coercion, directly pierced through time and space and resounded in the depths of his soul,
Dobby, on the verge of despair, trembled violently all over.
"Boss...?"
He half-knelt and sprawled upon the scorched earth covered in turtle-shell-like cracks, his entire body covered in burn wounds of varying depths, and green blood continuously flowing down his physique.
The voice was filled with a grief and sorrow that was extremely rare to see in a greenskin.
Having long been influenced and nurtured by Raynor, he had long since broken away from the simple mindset of ordinary greenskins who only knew slaughter and WAAAGH, possessing a wealth of complex emotions that only humans possessed.
He understood what the Annihilation Ritual represented at the present moment, and understood what kind of ending the entire planet was heading toward.
"Boss, it's gone... Everything is going to be gone."
Through the cross-dimensional mental link, Raynor was able to truly capture the overwhelming sense of loss and despair radiating from Dobby.
But the situation was extremely urgent right now, and there was simply no spare time to be used for emotional pacification.
His will was calm and resolute, piercing through the heavy interferences of the chaotic psychic energy and transmitting directly into the depths of Dobby's consciousness.
"Things have not reached the end yet."
"Dobby, Brevis will not be destroyed just like this, and we have not lost yet."
Even though Dobby had personally experienced the earth-shattering and terrifying power of the Annihilation Ritual, when this divine-laden voice of Raynor resounded within his soul...
The flames of survival and resistance deep within his heart, which had almost completely extinguished, were reignited once again.
Greenskin instinct naturally yearned to follow the strong, not to mention that Raynor had the grace of rebirth towards him.
Even though reality was already pitch black before his eyes, he was still willing to unreservedly choose to believe in his boss.
"What do you want me to do, Boss?" Dobby propped up his dilapidated body and asked with difficulty as he raised his head.
Without speaking immediately, across the distant Warp link, Raynor transformed a complete set of the divine power descent ritual into a massive torrent of information, continuously pouring it into Dobby's mind.
The complex and obscure spell sequences and all the requirements for the vessel's mental state were instantly mastered and integrated within Dobby's mind.
After completing the information transmission, Raynor's will sounded once again, with a heavy tone.
"Dobby, do you have this resolve?"
Dobby looked at the earth around him being dissolved bit by bit by the psychic fog, and chuckled softly, his husky laughter echoing across the devastated wilderness.
"This life was originally yours to begin with, Boss."
Pausing briefly, he thought of their two deities wandering within the Warp, and half-jokingly added a reminder:
"It is just that you must be careful of those two in the Warp from now on; they hold grudges quite deeply."
Situated in the interlayers of the Warp, hearing this reminder, Raynor could not help but reveal a bitter smile.
There was completely no time left to delay, the erosion of the psychic fog was still continuously intensifying, and Dobby's remaining life was already running out.
Dobby gritted his teeth and struggled to stand up from the shattered ground.
This descent ritual itself did not require the user to possess an exceptionally brilliant psychic talent; its core requirements consisted of only two points.
Finding a worldly vessel that was willing to completely open its mind to Raynor and voluntarily hand over all its flesh to the takeover of divine power, while simultaneously possessing a sufficiently robust physical tolerance as an anchor point, allowing Raynor's power to be briefly projected and descend into the material world.
Disregarding the churning and ceaseless excruciating pain within his body, he strictly followed the ritual procedures branded in his mind, and laboriously spat out sections of obscure and awkward incantations.
When the final proclamation of the ritual roared out from his mouth:
"Offer a salute for the birth of the King!"
The moment the voice fell, the psychic fog that originally replaced the atmospheric clouds was indeed pulled by the ritual's power, gathering frantically.
Thick purple thunderclouds formed out of thin air above the firmament of Brevis, and rolling thunder churned and leaped within the clouds.
One thick and dazzling purple lightning bolt after another tore through the firmament, crashing down one after another, and precisely striking Dobby's body.
Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!
The lightning mercilessly scoured his physique over and over again; his flesh and blood were torn apart by the berserk divine power time and time again, only to be forcibly reshaped and regenerated relying on the ritual's magic.
Nine strikes, each strike containing nine bolts of lightning.
In nine fleeting moments, all eighty-one purple lightning bolts were completely poured out.
The instant the eighty-one lightning bolts fell, Dobby's self-awareness as an ordinary greenskin dissipated completely like a burned-out candle flame.
That not particularly tall greenskin physical body began to frantically expand and tower upwards.
A majestic and fierce aura belonging to the authority of dominance rose step by step from within this vessel.
Within the interlayers of the Warp, Raynor's 150-meter Avatar of Dominance burst out with dazzling purple radiance.
A massive amount of divine power flowed continuously down into the material universe along this newly established mental anchor point.
Actually, Raynor himself did not have absolute certainty, nor was he clear how many living beings and how much land of Brevis could be saved by relying on such a hastily completed temporary descent, but he had to try his utmost with all his strength.
The ritual's procedure progressed steadily forward, and Dobby's physique expanded all the way, having grown to a height of nearly ten meters, while a layer of faint purple-golden flowing light emerged on the surface of his greenskin skin.
The construction of the worldly anchor point was nearing completion, and the divine power descent was on the verge of complete success.
Yet right at this most life-or-death critical moment...
A burst of mocking laughter mixed with infinite banter and malicious intent resounded without warning through the entire Warp region where Raynor was located.
A semi-illusory, half-bird, half-human phantom emerged out of thin air from the churning chaotic turbulence.
It was not an avatar of Tzeentch, but merely a wisp of a mental projection cast across a distance.
But that iconic bird-head and human body, along with the densely flowing tiny pupils scattered across the sky, allowed Raynor and Sarah Dahan, who was fused within the avatar, to recognize the identity of the newcomer at a glance.
Sarah Dahan's will erupted indignantly within the core of the Avatar of Dominance, filled with anger:
"God of Change, do you not have anything else to do?!"
This wisp of Tzeentch's phantom did not get angry at all; the tens of thousands of tiny pupils covering its physique blinked unceasingly, and its will, mixed with countless noises, slowly echoed in the Warp with banter:
"Heh heh, there are many things I want to do."
"But right now, the most important thing is to make your little lover crawl back to where he belongs!"
Alarm bells instantly rang loudly in the depths of Raynor's heart.
He immediately intended to forcibly interrupt the descent ritual that had not yet concluded, mobilize his authority, and actively launch a fierce attack to shatter this sudden mental projection of Tzeentch.
But Tzeentch's reaction was faster than his.
The phantom stretched out an illusory and slender finger.
In an instant, spatial distance completely ceased to exist, ignoring the barrier between the Warp and the material universe, pointing straight toward the center of the dragon head's brow of Raynor's 150-meter-tall Avatar of Dominance.
Clang!
The immense energy that had been desperately absorbed and frantically accumulated before the Annihilation Ritual was, under this single finger, like a giant water reservoir punctured by a sharp blade, instantly swept clean, collapsing and dissipating everywhere.
An irresistible great force slammed into the consciousness core of Raynor, who existed as a conceptual entity.
Raynor's own self-awareness began to dissipate out of control.
Everything that happened in the warhammer universe began to play backward like a rewinding slide show.
Scene after scene of burning memories flashed through Raynor's mental world.
Starting from the cruel scene where he was in the Warp interlayer of Brevis, in order to save the dying Sarah, awakened the origin of dominance, transformed into the Avatar of Dominance with a lesser divine rank, and fought a desperate, life-or-death battle against the avatar of Tzeentch.
To the beginning of purging the Chaos Cultists Luna, when the smoke of war swept across the entire planet, the planet's fate hung by a thread, and the defense war of Brevis broke out.
From struggling through hard battles to finally crushing the Greenskin Warlord Ragnar, that massive war machine, ending the greenskin scourge that ravaged the galaxy.
To Dominic leading the Imperial Tithe Fleet across the sector and descending upon Brevis.
From transforming into One Hits Seven, that months-long, heart-pounding greenskin Infernal Affairs operation, where every step walked on the edge of exposure.
To making a wager with Luna on the Karl II tournament, competing for the position of expedition marshal through a crazy athletic contest.
To rushing to the Forbidden Wall, pacifying the chaos of the native greenskins of Brevis, and establishing an unshakable prestige in the hearts of the military and civilians through this battle.
To boarding the ship name, completing the body-seizure of Carey Von amidst the chaos, and rightfully sitting on the throne of the Planetary Governor of Brevis.
From the hands of the Tyranid Hive Fleet and the Sons of Medusa, paying every price to break through the blockade with Sarah and fleeing Necromunda in a disheveled state.
Memories continued to trace back, the tone of the scenes gradually becoming dim and antiquated, finally falling back to the origin of all stories.
The bottom layer of the Necromunda Hive City, where system pop-ups suddenly burst open, the moment when his destiny first intersected with that Hive Warrior bearing crystalline trauma.
Frame after frame of imagery flowed continuously, Raynor's consciousness floating in this long river of memories, stirring deep emotions in his heart.
Turns out, he and Sarah had walked through so many cycles of life and death together, experienced countless bloody battles, and survived in desperate situations.
From a nameless mortal in the Hive City bottom struggling day by day, all the way to an existence holding lesser divine authority.
Those laughter and pain, the moments of fighting side by side, had surprisingly only passed by such a short time.
But this emotion didn't last long before a cold and uneasy chill occupied his consciousness.
He panicked as he noticed a terrifying change.
The very instant each grand past event finished playing completely in his mind, the corresponding memory would completely dissipate in a flash, like a sand painting on a beach washed away by the tide.
He was forgetting.
Important battles, deceitful machinations, bloody struggles, emotional progression, one after another, disappeared from his mind.
What made him panic from the depths of his soul was that the memories about Sarah were also gradually fading in his consciousness.
That Tyranid warrior clad in dark purple carapace, with compound eyes flickering slightly, whose bonds with him entangled across galaxies and the Warp.
Her appearance, her voice, all the bonds between them seemed to be covered by an increasingly thick fog, the images blurring and dissolving bit by bit.
"No, no..."
Raynor's consciousness began to struggle and twist frantically, like a person falling into deep water and drowning to death.
Desperately waving his spiritual arms, wanting to reach out and grab everything around him that he could cling to.
But there was only emptiness in the void, and he couldn't grab anything.
Those unforgettable pasts continuously slipped away uncontrollably, and the fragments of memories drifted far away into endless darkness along an invisible current.
In the end, all the ups and downs, love and struggles vanished into thin air.
No clear fragments could be left in his mind anymore, leaving only a hazy and trance-like illusion.
As if everything he had just experienced was merely a bizarre, gorgeous illusion.
His mind was engulfed by endless exhaustion, and Raynor plunged deeply into a coma at the end of this illusion.
...
"Beep beep beep, beep beep beep~"
The harsh sound of the cell phone alarm rudely tore apart this realm of conscious illusion.
Raynor opened his eyes.
The familiar ceiling came into view, the cheap latex paint walls, debris piled in the corners, and the smell of new furniture unique to a rental house floating in the air.
He was sitting in his own gaming chair, and the computer screen in front of him was still glowing.
Inside the screen was the galgame game interface, the heroine's avatar floating window, with favorability stuck at 99, just one last Dialogue option away from unlocking the special CG.
Just click the mouse, say that line, and the favorability could be perfectly maxed out.
But at this moment, Raynor had completely no mood to play.
He lowered his head blankly, looking at his empty hands that held nothing at all.
His heart felt empty, as if an extremely important piece had disappeared.
He understood that he had forgotten something that was more important than anything else to him.
But no matter how hard he racked his brains to recall, his mind was a blank white void, and he couldn't remember anything.
He just sat stiffly in his seat like this, not knowing how long had passed.
Until a warm droplet of water fell without warning onto the palm of his hand.
It was tears.
Following that, more tears uncontrollably gushed out of his eye sockets, continuously sliding down his cheeks.
He couldn't curb it at all, and the surging loss and hollowness deep in his heart grew heavier and heavier.
Tears flowed endlessly, forming a line.
He cried bitterly for a long time, until his eye sockets swelled, stung, and became red, swollen, and painful.
But crying until the end, he couldn't even figure out why he was crying in the first place.
That heartbreaking sadness was genuinely real.
But the cause of this sorrow was nowhere to be found.
Unseen pain is always the most painful.
From this day on, Raynor almost locked himself up in this small rental house.
Work, games, socializing, all previous life contents lost meaning to him.
He turned his cell phone and computer all to silent mode, curled up on the bed all day, staring blankly straight at the ceiling.
Sometimes, without warning, tears would silently flow down again.
He couldn't explain where it hurt, but that hollowness was gnawing at his heart every moment.
The first to notice the abnormality were his parents.
A typical well-educated family couple, his father was a teacher and his mother was a doctor, and they had always been strict with Raynor's discipline since childhood.
When they received notification that their son hadn't gone to work for three consecutive days, they rushed anxiously to the rental house.
But everything that happened afterward left the two elders at a loss.
Raynor sat numbly as if his soul had been sucked away, indifferent to external stimuli.
No matter how earnestly his parents persuaded him, even if they scolded him harshly, he only wore a dazed expression, with almost no response whatsoever.
Fear crawled into his parents' hearts, they dared not continue scolding him, and hurriedly took Raynor all over the hospitals.
Full physical examinations, nervous system screenings, all reports showed that Raynor's body had no organic lesions whatsoever.
Afterward, they traveled to visit several senior psychologists, but the psychological evaluation likewise could not find a clear illness.
The final psychologist let out a long sigh, looked at Raynor sitting blankly in the chair in a trance, and said:
"From the perspective of modern medicine, it is actually difficult to completely explain his current state."
"But among the common folk, there is a somewhat unreliable explanation called... the severance of the heart meridian."
Hearing this, Raynor's parents couldn't help exchanging glances, full of incomprehension and bewilderment.
They had always paid attention to their child's life on usual days, and recently Raynor hadn't encountered any major changes at all, not even dating a girlfriend, so how did he become like this?
Full of doubts, they took the soul-deprived Raynor back home to recuperate.
But returning to his familiar home, the situation still didn't improve by half a bit.
Raynor still sat quietly and blankly every day, and most of the time when asked anything, he got no response.
Not long after, Raynor's best brother, the young master of the Lei Group, Leo, heard the news of Raynor's depression.
He immediately put down a huge pile of matters abroad on his hands, and boarded the fastest flight back to the country in a hurry.
Pushing open the room door, at a glance seeing Raynor's expression of utter despair on the sofa, Leo almost instantly made his own judgment.
He strode forward, slapped his thigh, and spoke with certainty:
"He broke up! It's definitely a breakup!"
Hearing Leo's words, the elderly couple were a bit puzzled, because Raynor hadn't been in a relationship recently.
He didn't even have a girlfriend, so where would a breakup come from?
Leo indeed hadn't heard any news of Raynor dating a girlfriend recently either.
But he understood relationships and he understood Raynor, so naturally he could see where Raynor's "root cause of illness" lay.
"There are many kinds of breakups; they don't necessarily have to be romances in real life," Leo said.
The elderly couple understood half of it, but they also knew some elements of "non-real romances".
Things like two-dimensional characters, virtual idols, celebrity stanning, and so on.
They also knew that Raynor was immersed in the gaming world all day long, especially fond of that series called something like warhammer 40k, as well as games where he dated all kinds of two-dimensional paper-thin characters.
Could the problem be with this?
"Online games really ruin people!" Father Raynor said as such, and Mother Raynor nodded in agreement.
Seeing that the elderly couple had misunderstood, Leo didn't continue arguing with them.
He only guaranteed that if they handed Raynor over to him, within a month, he would surely restore Raynor to his original state!
The elderly couple did not trust this blonde-haired mixed-race young master before them.
But there was no better way at the moment, so they handed Raynor over to Leo.
Leo didn't waste words either, immediately taking Raynor with him, intending to make him forget his "breakup".
...
The engine roar of the Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta sounded like a startled beast, exploding on Binjiang Avenue in the Waitan District of City H.
Raynor sat in the passenger seat, the seatbelt tightening across his chest, his whole body like a teddy bear casually thrown into the car.
He was wearing a washed-out black hoodie, his hair hadn't been washed in three days, his bangs plastered greasily against his forehead, and his hollow eyes stared fixedly at the rapidly receding river view outside the window.
Leo held the steering wheel with one hand, his other arm resting on the car door, the wind blowing his customized linen shirt into a loud flapping, the cuffs embroidered with a low-key silver-thread family crest.
He glanced at the passenger seat, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Can you look a little more excited?"
"Huh?"
"There are only three of these cars in the world, what you're sitting on is Pagani's last naturally aspirated V12, the exhaust note was specially tuned by AMG, listen~~~"
Leo stepped hard on the gas pedal, the tachometer needle springing to eight thousand RPM, the exhaust pipe spitting a string of blue flames, and the roar swallowing the entire Binjiang Avenue like a tsunami.
Pedestrians on the roadside turned their heads one after another, some taking out their phones, some frowning, and a girl wearing a tight-fitting secretary uniform screamed, "Holy shit."
Raynor blinked.
"Oh, it is indeed quite loud."
Leo chuckled and didn't speak again.
He understood Raynor; this guy who walked out of the old alleys of City H had a kind of almost foolish stubbornness deep in his bones.
When you thought he had everything, he instead looked like a loser who had lost everything.
The car stopped at the entrance of a private club in the Waitan District.
The female attendant in front recognized Leo's license plate, trotted over to open the door, her waist bent even more curved than the Huangpu River.
Leo tossed the keys over, casually picked up a suede travel bag from the back seat, and threw it into Raynor's arms.
"Take a shower later, then change into these."
"What?"
"Clothes, you surely can't go talk to people wearing this outfit."
Raynor unzipped the bag, inside of which was a fully coordinated outfit.
A sharply tailored dark grey suit, a black turtleneck cashmere sweater, a pair of Berluti leather shoes, and even a Patek Philippe Nautilus watch.
He looked up at Leo: "When did you measure my size?"
"Hey, I don't have any improper thoughts about you."
"But our fate of being classmates together for 6 years from middle school through high school can't be fake."
Leo flashed a handsome smile, put his arm around Raynor, and by the way greeted a seven-out-of-ten-looking Gothic girl on the roadside.
The girl also smiled back, apparently wanting to have something happen with Leo.
Raynor didn't ask any more questions, carrying the bag into the custom bathroom.
Ten minutes later he came out, the clothes fitting as if custom-made, but he still had that dead look.
Slightly hunched over, hands shoved in his trouser pockets, his eyes wandering about like a high school student forcibly dragged to a blind date by his parents.
Leo circled around him and nodded.
"The foundation is good, it's just that your expression looks like your dad just died."
"My dad didn't die."
"It's pretty much the same as dead."
The inside of the club was much larger than it looked from the outside. Passing through a long corridor paved with a Persian carpet, the view suddenly opened up before them.
A semi-open-air rooftop terrace, the Huangpu River made a bend right under their feet, and the glass curtain walls of Lujiazui looked like a patch of upside-down broken diamonds.
Scattered across the terrace were several groups of sofas, a few opened bottles of champagne, and a group of well-dressed young men and women sitting or standing, their laughter mixed with the river breeze, drifting not too far nor too close.
As soon as Leo appeared, three or four girls turned their heads simultaneously.
His face was a passport in this circle of City H, even though it was his first time coming to this club.
"Leo, is that your car parked downstairs? I heard it just now upstairs."
A girl wearing a wine-red slip dress walked over holding a glass, with long wavy hair, and a confidence between her brows and eyes that said, "I know I look good."
She glanced at Raynor, her gaze lingering on him for two seconds, and then returned to Leo's face.
"New friend?"
"My bro, Raynor." Leo put one hand on Raynor's shoulder with just the right amount of force, both intimate and unrefusable.
"He just came out of a relationship, I brought him out to get some fresh air."
"Relationship?" The girl in the wine-red dress tilted her head, the corners of her mouth curling into a meaningful arc.
"Got dumped, huh?"
Raynor spoke, his voice very flat.
"Wasn't in a relationship, so wasn't broken up."
The girl was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"Interesting, my name is Vivian, what about you, what do you do?"
"Play games."
"What games?"
"warhammer 40K, and... some dating sims."
Vivian's smile froze for half a second, but she was a professional and immediately followed up:
"That sounds pretty interesting, my younger brother also plays that warhammer thingy? Come on, I'll pour you a glass of wine."
She turned around to get a cup, and Leo leaned close to Raynor's ear, lowering his voice.
"Can't you be normal?"
"I am very normal."
"When you said you play games, her pupils dilated."
"That just shows she's not suitable for me."
Leo took a deep breath and decided to change tactics.
He pressed Raynor down onto a sofa, walked to the center of the terrace himself, and clapped his hands. His voice wasn't loud, but everyone looked over.
"Everyone, my treat tonight, champagne is all you can drink. There's only one request—" He pointed at Raynor in the corner.
"Whoever can make that brother of mine crack a smile, I'll gift them a bottle of Romanée-Conti, 2015 vintage."
The terrace went quiet for a split second, and then laughter and teasing cheers exploded simultaneously.
Several girls looked eagerly at Raynor, as if looking at a bountied riddle.
Raynor sat on the sofa, a glass of champagne shoved into his hands. He lowered his head to look at the fine bubbles in the glass, feeling that the way these bubbles floated upward was quite boring.
A girl wearing a white dress sat next to him, with very long legs and eyes curving into crescents when she smiled.
"You're Leo's friend? What's your name?"
"Raynor."
"Why don't you want to smile?"
"If I smile, you'll get a very expensive bottle of wine."
The girl blinked, and then actually smiled. "Then I won't ask. Do you drink?"
"Drink."
"Then drink a glass, consider it me completing the task, the wine goes to you, it's my treat."
Raynor glanced at her. This girl's eyes were very clean, without the sharpness of a hunter looking at prey, nor that kind of "I'm saving you" holy-mother vibe.
She just thought this thing was fun.
He picked up the glass and drank it in one gulp. The bubbles exploded in his throat, a bit spicy.
"Want to smile yet?" the girl asked.
"Don't want to."
"It's fine, my name is Xiaolu. Do you really only play games usually?"
"Also read books."
"What books?"
"warhammer rulebooks."
Xiaolu tilted her head, as if thinking seriously: "What is that?"
Raynor finally gave her a second look.
Leo leaned against the terrace railing, watching this scene from afar. Vivian stood beside him and handed him a glass of wine.
"This brother of yours is quite difficult to deal with."
"He's not difficult." Leo took a sip of wine, his gaze falling on Raynor.
"He locked himself up, threw away the key, and even pretends he doesn't want to go out."
"So you brought him here?"
"I brought him here to let him know there are many doors in this world, not just his own."
Vivian was silent for a moment, then laughed: "You men are really troublesome."
"It is quite troublesome."
...
By the end of that night, Raynor still hadn't smiled, just like a broken robot.
Dazedly sitting in the center of the spotlight, wearing that deadpan expression of his.
Afterwards, Leo also tried many methods, but none could make Raynor produce obvious emotional fluctuations.
He even doubted if this guy Raynor had some problem in that aspect, and even took him to see a famous veteran traditional Chinese medicine doctor in City H.
Finally, Leo was out of ideas; he sent Raynor back home, planning to go back first to think of a countermeasure.
Just as he was about to leave, Raynor took the rare initiative to speak:
"Leo, what are you going to do right now?"
Leo was a bit puzzled, but since his brother finally took the initiative to speak, he certainly wouldn't ruin the mood:
"Going to the airport to pick up a cousin of mine, she just returned from abroad. What, do you want to go too?"
"That cousin of yours... what's her name?"
Raynor didn't know why, but a strange intuition suddenly guided him to ask these questions.
"Hey, why are you suddenly interested in my cousin?"
"If I remember correctly, her name should be Sarah, right?"
The FBO at the H City airport lacked the bustle and noise of a regular terminal.
It was as quiet as an aquarium isolated from all noise by glass; even the wheels of suitcases rolling over the marble floor seemed cautious.
Raynor stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the Bombardier Challenger 300 getting closer and closer in the sky.
The price of this private jet was probably enough for him to buy three apartments in H City, but as he looked at it, his heart remained completely undisturbed.
He had long since lost any sense of awe toward Leo Saint Gallus's family wealth.
In fact, he had lost his illusions about many things.
But today was different.
Today, he had specifically asked Leo Saint Gallus to prepare a decent outfit for him.
A dark blue knit sweater, cleanly tailored black trousers, and a pair of polished derby shoes.
He even combed his hair; although it was still a bit messy, at least he didn't look like a homeless person crawling out of a dump.
When Leo Saint Gallus saw him looking like this, he was visibly stunned for a moment:
"How come you suddenly got enlightened today, our blockhead Raynor."
Raynor ignored him.
He couldn't explain why he had such an impulse either.
When he woke up this morning, that long-lost, tactile sense of being alive had been jumping around in his veins.
It wasn't that half-dead "living" he had muddied through for several months in H City, but a bright sense of sudden hope in life.
While waiting for the plane, his heart beat faster than usual.
"You haven't even met my sister, yet you're dressed like this,"
Leo Saint Gallus leaned against the sofa in the waiting room, crossing his legs, spinning a cup of Americano in his hand, his gaze acting like a searchlight interrogating a prisoner.
"What, have you guys met somewhere else?"
Raynor didn't answer the question because he couldn't explain it clearly either.
He only knew that when Leo Saint Gallus said the name "Sarah" yesterday, something seemed to suddenly open up in his mind.
It wasn't a recovery of memory, but more like a long-dormant organ suddenly coming back to life.
That feeling was like you always thought a piece of the puzzle was missing from your life, searching for it for a long, long time, so long that you had given up looking.
Then one day, that puzzle piece appeared in the palm of your hand on its own.
"Are you nervous?" Leo Saint Gallus asked.
"No."
"Your palms are sweating."
"It's hot."
"The AC is set to 16 degrees."
Raynor stopped arguing, simply moving his gaze away from the plane and looking at the distant horizon outside the window.
Leo Saint Gallus didn't pursue the question further either.
He knew what kind of temper his brother had; if Raynor didn't want to talk about something, you wouldn't be able to pry it out of his mouth.
But Leo Saint Gallus was happy inside.
This was the first time in three months he saw light in Raynor's eyes, even if Raynor himself couldn't explain where that light came from.
The sound of airplane engines came from afar. The Bombardier Challenger 300 landed smoothly on the runway.
The plane slowed down and taxied, coming to a steady stop at the FBO's dedicated parking spot.
The cabin door's hydraulic system hummed and opened to one side.
Raynor's breath skipped a beat.
He didn't know why he was holding his breath.
At that very instant, he simply felt an unspeakable sense of familiarity rising from the depths of his soul.
The airstair was lowered.
A woman walked out of the cabin.
She was wearing a black long trench coat, the hem fluttering gently in the afternoon wind.
Sunglasses and flowing hair covered more than half her face, revealing only a sharply lined jaw and pale lips.
Long purple hair draped over her shoulders; that purple wasn't the gaudy shade mixed from hair dye, but a nearly natural deep purple, like some rare mineral refracting light.
Raynor looked at her without blinking.
He wasn't looking at her appearance, though he admitted that even without seeing her face, her figure was enough to make fashion magazine editors across H City kneel and beg her to shoot a cover.
He looked at her as if looking at a shadow floating up from the deep sea.
He didn't know why he had this feeling, but every step and every subtle movement of hers made him feel incomparably familiar.
It was as if he knew her.
It was as if he had known her for a very, very long time.
Leo Saint Gallus clearly noticed Raynor's state.
He looked at Raynor with a "bro, you're hopeless" look, lowering his voice to tease:
"You're just staring at her like that? Sigh, it's not like your brother here is trying to pour cold water..."
He took a sip of coffee, cleared his throat, and struck the posture of a storyteller:
"Although you aren't bad either, compared to my older female cousin, you're far behind.
My older female cousin is a prodigy who entered the USTC Gifted Young Class at sixteen, transferred to MIT at nineteen, and graduated with a PhD at twenty-five, holding two international patents and serving as the youngest director of the family fund.
To be honest, if you can win her over, I'm willing to give you my Pagani as a congratulatory gift."
He shook his head, as if lamenting Raynor's doomed tragic ending in advance.
"Of course, that's impossible."
Raynor didn't reply.
Because right as Leo Saint Gallus was saying this, the purple-haired woman walking down the airstair stopped.
She stood at the very bottom of the airstair, her gaze behind the sunglasses passing over Leo Saint Gallus, over the empty tarmac, and through the warm afternoon air, landing precisely on Raynor's face.
She was stunned too.
That stun wasn't the ordinary scrutiny of "seeing a stranger," but rather as if her chest had been gently bumped by something.
Her body stiffened, and she even forgot to continue walking down the steps.
Afterwards, she took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of beautiful purplish-black eyes.
Those eyes looked at Raynor, surging with some indescribable emotion.
Confusion, hesitation, and a tiny bit of sorrow that seemed to come from a very, very distant place.
She took the initiative and walked toward Raynor.
"Hello, may..." Her voice was icy and detached, carrying a slight tremble.
"Have we met before?"
The moment those words fell, something stirred in Raynor's mind.
That voice, that cold yet pleasant female voice, he always felt like he had heard it somewhere before.
Was it in some movie, or in those bizarre, kaleidoscopic dreams he could no longer remember clearly?
"Never seen you," Raynor said, his voice much more tense than he expected.
"But I always feel like you are a very important person to me."
He paused: "The kind that is very, very important."
Leo almost choked to death on his coffee.
He mentally gave Raynor a huge negative review.
These words were too blunt, so blunt they sounded like lines plucked straight from some third-rate romance novel.
He had even begun to calculate how to tell Raynor later in the most tactful, straightforward way:
"Brother, your flirting technique is too low!"
But what happened next dealt an unprecedented blow to Leo's worldview.
"I have this feeling too," Sarah said.
Her voice was very soft, as if she were afraid of disturbing something.
But in those purplish-black eyes, there was not a trace of perfunctory courtesy or polite pretense.
She looked at Raynor, as if confirming something very, very important.
Then, she smiled lightly, the arc of her smile just right. In Raynor's eyes, it was so beautiful that it made his heart tighten.
Everything that followed seemed like it had been pressed with a fast-forward button.
The two exchanged contact information right in front of Leo.
That night, for the first time ever, Raynor took the initiative to send a message to Sarah.
The next day, they had dinner together and took a walk by the river.
On the third day, they went to see a movie and visited the private club recommended by Leo, but this time without Leo.
Leo discovered something was wrong on the fourth day.
He saw a photo in Raynor's Moments.
Raynor and Sarah stood side by side in the night view of the Bund, Raynor's face wearing a smile he hadn't seen for three whole months.
Leo stared at the photo for a long time, then incredulously, as if confirming the exact date of the apocalypse, sent Raynor a message:
"You guys are together?"
Raynor only replied with one word: "Mm."
Leo stared at that word for a full thirty seconds.
"How long have you known each other?"
"Four days."
Leo threw his phone onto the sofa, feeling that he might need to go for some psychological counseling.
Regarding the matter of my top-beauty cousin falling in love with my unlucky brother.
Things developed even more ridiculously afterward.
The two stuck together every day, dating, walking, shopping, and even traveling abroad together.
Raynor took the initiative to arrange the itinerary, visiting the places Sarah had mentioned, and adding places he wanted to go himself.
Sarah did not refuse and cooperated the whole way.
On the streets of Paris, before the ancient ruins of Rome, and under the aurora of Iceland, their standing-side-by-side figures were captured by countless camera shutters.
When Leo found out about all this, he was having dinner with Vivian.
He put down his knife and fork, was silent for a long time, and then said: "I might need to reacquaint myself with my brother."
Vivian asked him what was wrong.
He said: "That brother of mine who hasn't smiled for three months is now posting travel photos in his Moments, and standing next to him is my cousin."
Vivian blinked: "Doesn't your sister never travel with anyone?"
"Yeah," Leo's voice was very soft.
"So I'm very curious, what on earth is going on with them?"
Three months later, both families met.
Raynor's parents had originally worried whether their son was once again bewitched by some strange thing, but when they met Sarah, all their worries vanished into thin air.
Sarah's speech, knowledge, temperament, and that inadvertent tenderness when she looked at Raynor.
All made the two elders feel that their son must have saved the Milky Way in his past life.
Sarah's parents were also very satisfied with Raynor.
Although Raynor was just an "ordinary" programmer in H City, his background was actually not simple.
And he had an unhurried, "steady sense".
Sarah's father said to Leo in private: "This kid is not simple."
Leo thought to himself, Yeah, a person who hadn't smiled for three months suddenly smiled upon seeing my sister—it really wasn't simple.
The engagement ceremony was held at a private club in H City.
The scale was not large, and only close relatives and friends of both sides were invited.
Standing on the stage, looking at Sarah opposite him, all the messy things in Raynor's head completely vanished.
He only knew that the woman standing before him was the only person he would marry in this lifetime.
This feeling was very strange.
They had only known each other for three months, and he couldn't even explain what he liked about her.
Yet he just knew that kind of certainty came from a place he couldn't find an entrance to.
Leo was the best man, and when he watched Raynor put the ring on Sarah.
He always had the feeling that these two seemed to have known each other for a long time.
...
The wedding was set for three months later.
The date, hotel, invitees, groomsmen and bridesmaids list, honeymoon trip—everything was progressing methodically.
As the best man, Leo was dragged by Raynor all over H City's wedding planning companies.
He watched Raynor earnestly compare the colors of every centerpiece, taste-test every wedding banquet dish, and confirm the wording of every invitation.
"Don't you think you're being too serious?" Leo asked.
"You only get married once in a lifetime," Raynor said.
Leo opened his mouth, wanting to say "You got engaged without even seeing my sister's face a few times, and now you're acting all serious".
But he didn't say it out, because he saw light in Raynor's eyes when he said those words.
Time quickly arrived at one month before the wedding.
According to plan, the two began their honeymoon trip.
The first stop was Paris, the second stop was Rome, the third stop was Iceland, the fourth stop was... Nottingham.
Nottingham was proposed by Sarah.
"Haven't you always liked warhammer?" she said to Raynor on the plane.
"Nottingham is the hometown of warhammer, and the headquarters of Games Workshop is right there. I set the final stop there."
Raynor was also stunned; he really did like warhammer.
During those three months of being heart-severed, he had even worn out several warhammer rulebooks.
But he didn't remember mentioning this to Sarah.
"When did you find out?"
"Leo said so," Sarah smiled.
"He said you've liked those weird things since you were a kid."
Raynor did not pursue it further; he just looked at the clouds outside the window, an unspeakable warmth welling up in his heart.
It was a rainy day when they arrived in Nottingham.
The British-style drizzle, dense and cold, made the whole city look exceptionally melancholic.
The flagship store of warhammer World was much bigger than Raynor had imagined.
The huge event hall displayed all kinds of warhammer models and dioramas, and the air was filled with the smell of resin and paint everywhere.
They booked the entire event hall, cleared out the retail store, and drank a lot of beer in Bugman's Bar.
Bugman's Bar was the best dwarf-style bar in the warhammer world.
Wooden long tables, heavy mugs, and flags and shields of various warhammer races hung on the walls.
Raynor sat in front of the bar, holding a glass of Bugman's XXXXX, looking at the warhammer elements all over the wall, suddenly feeling a bit dazed.
Everything was too perfect.
Too perfect to be real.
Sarah sat beside him, quietly drinking juice, occasionally raising her head to glance at him.
Her gaze was always very gentle, like a pool of tranquil deep water.
That night, they went to another exhibition area of warhammer World.
The exhibition area displayed the best warhammer models and dioramas in the world.
Raynor walked slowly among those models, his gaze finally landing on a huge display stand.
That was the display stand of the Tyranids.
The name of the display stand was Retreat from Gidzu VII.
The scene was the moment when the Imperial Guard evacuated the planet Gidzu VII at the last moment.
The background was urban ruins covered by The Swarm, the sky dyed a morbid purple by the Tyranid spore clouds, and countless swarming units surging on the horizon.
The engines of the evacuation spacecraft had already ignited, but dozens of soldiers failed to board the ship, making a last stand on the ground with laser guns and bayonets.
That was a battle destined to be unwinnable.
But Raynor's gaze did not fall on those soldiers.
He stared at the swarming units surging on the display stand.
Hormagaunts, Termagants, Tyranid Warriors, Tunneling Pythons, Flying Warrior Overlords...
Many Tyranid units he was familiar with were there.
Their postures varied; some were running, some were biting, some were spitting acid, and some were flying.
But as Raynor looked at them, what welled up in his heart was neither fear nor hatred.
It was a sense of familiarity.
He felt those bugs were very familiar.
Those ferocious, bloodthirsty bugs that devoured everything seemed, in his eyes, like... family members.
This thought made even himself feel absurd.
He stared at those swarm models, his gaze stopping on a Tyranid Warrior.
That Tyranid Warrior stood in the center of The Swarm, the patterns on its carapace slightly different from its surrounding peers.
Its posture was straighter than ordinary Tyranid Warriors, its body curves smoother, and even the arc of its bone blades possessed a subtle, feminine elegance.
Looking at it, Raynor suddenly felt as if his heart was gripped by something.
A soreness surged up his nasal cavity, and his eye sockets began to swell.
He didn't understand why he was acting this way.
He was just looking at a plastic model, a plastic bug painted with purple and blue paint, yet he actually felt like crying.
"What's wrong?"
A voice came from behind.
Raynor turned his head and saw a man standing beside him.
That was a tall, handsome Southeast Asian man with wheat-colored skin.
But strangely, Raynor always felt he couldn't see his face clearly.
It wasn't a problem of lighting or angle; his vision simply refused to focus on that face no matter what.
He could see the curve of the lips, the high bridge of the nose, and the clear jawline, but all the details were fluid, like a watercolor painting soaked in water.
" Tell me, what would happen if a human fell in love with a Tyranid? "
The man's voice was very soft, carrying a faint, elusive hint of a smile.
Raynor chuckled softly, " How is that possible? The Tyranids are galactic devouring machines uniformly controlled by the hive mind; they don't even have emotions, so how could they fall in love with a human? "
" Oh, is that so? " The man tilted his head.
" I do know a story like that, a story of a Tyranid Warrior that gained independent consciousness, mutually redeeming and relying on a human, and finally facing the most powerful enemy in the world together. "
He paused for a moment.
" Do you want to hear it? "
The instant the words fell, something exploded in Raynor's mind.
It wasn't the recovery of memories, but more like a sluice gate that had been blocked for a long time suddenly being blown open, and a flood rushing out carrying countless fragments.
Those fragments quickly pieced themselves together in his consciousness, forming images, sounds, and temperatures.
The underground pipelines of Necromunda, the purple carapace, the system pop-up window, the Sergeant of the Sons of Medusa.
The Forbidden Wall, the ice field, the Frost Dragon descending amidst the wind and snow, the tide of greenskins...
And...
A voice, cold yet gentle.
" Raynor. "
" Hmm? "
" I love you. "
" Hmm, I love you too, Sarah. "
Raynor abruptly raised his head, but the man was already gone.
He looked around; he was the only person in the exhibition area.
The sound of rain drifted through the skylight, dense and distant, like an echo from another world.
He lowered his head and looked at his own hand.
In the center of his palm, a transparent model had appeared at some unknown point.
It was a Tyranid Warrior.
Unlike those on the display stand, he was extremely familiar with the shape of this Tyranid Warrior.
A purple carapace, blue patterns, four jointed hind limbs, a pair of huge sickle-like bone blades, and a relatively small head.
It was Sarah's original appearance, Raynor was certain.
He grasped the model, a faint coolness coming from his palm.
That coolness penetrated through his skin, through his bones, and all the way deep into his soul.
His memories rushed back like a tide, wave after wave, every single wave carrying his intertwined love and hatred with Sarah.
He remembered.
He remembered who he was, where he should be, and what he should do.
" Raynor? "
A gentle voice came from behind.
Raynor turned his head; Sarah was standing there holding a cup of coffee, with a gentle smile on her face.
Her gaze fell on Raynor's hand, but she seemed unable to see the model.
She only asked, " What are you looking at? "
Raynor clenched the model tightly.
He looked at Sarah, looked at this girl who had eyes of the same color as Sarah, and looked at the familiar gaze on her face—the gaze of someone who loved him unflinchingly across both worlds.
He smiled.
" It's nothing. "
He paused for a moment, and finally, asked a question.
" Sarah, tell me, between an illusory sweet dream and a painful reality, how would you choose? "
Sarah was stunned for a moment, but she didn't find this question inexplicable.
She lowered her head to look at the coffee in her hand, fell silent for a moment, and then answered earnestly:
" I feel that I'd rather suffer while being awake than be happy falsely. "
She raised her head and looked into Raynor's eyes.
" After all, that is the true self. "
She smiled slightly; that smile held relief, reluctance to part, and a tiny bit of pride.
" Besides, I suppose when you asked this question, your heart already had the answer. But no matter what, I support you, just like before. "
With that said, tears were already welling up in the corners of her eyes.
She acted as if she knew what was going to happen next, but she didn't stop it.
Raynor looked at her, feeling immensely heartbroken.
Even though the person before him might only be an illusion, a cage woven by Tzeentch to trap him, Sarah still loved him so unflinchingly.
" I know. " Raynor said.
His voice was very soft, so soft it was like a sigh.
" Thank you, Sarah, I love you. "
He stepped forward and pulled her into his embrace.
Her body was very warm, carrying the fragrance of coffee and the faint scent of snow lotus.
He lowered his head and kissed her.
That kiss was long, so long it felt as though he wanted to send away all his reluctance to part through this single kiss.
After a long while, he stepped back, holding Sarah's hand with his left hand, and raised the transparent Tyranid Warrior model high with his right hand.
Purple light descended from the sky.
That beam of light burst forth from inside the model, carrying a temperature that did not belong to this world.
It enveloped Raynor's body, slowly lifting him into the air.
His vision began to blur, and the walls and ceiling of the exhibition area melted in the purple light, turning into a surging void.
Yet in the center of that void, there was a fissure.
On the other side of the fissure was a world he was extremely familiar with.
At the edge of that fissure, he saw many things.
He saw Brevis.
It had already been mostly swallowed by the blue mist of the Ritual of Annihilation, the spires of the Hive City collapsing in the fog, the ice field melting, and the earth cracking apart.
And he also saw Tooth Many.
That Gretchin had long since swollen more than tenfold, standing on the shattered earth, radiating purple light all over its body, raising its head as if waiting for something.
He saw Sarah, waiting for him.
Within the Warp interlayer, the Avatar of Dominance formed of purple light bodies still hovered, massive and majestic.
He saw a blue avian-headed figure circling in the void, thousands of eyes flashing with a mocking light.
He saw a possible future.
A future filled with pain, danger, and uncertainty.
But that future was real.
" Sigh. "
Raynor sighed.
He released Sarah's hand.
He could not look back, because the real Sarah was still waiting for him.
Following the purple light, Raynor flew towards the junction of the two worlds.
At the very last moment of his disappearance, he looked back.
Sarah stood in place, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Yet she was smiling, that smile very gentle, carrying a strange sense of comprehension.
Like someone who, after experiencing a long and painful wait, finally saw a long-awaited ending.
" Goodbye, Raynor. " Her voice drifted over, very soft, very soft.
" Take good care of yourself... "
The purple light swallowed everything, and the sound of rain in Nottingham vanished.