Although the Aeldari War Mask's defense was not great, its filtration capabilities were truly powerful. Considering their ridiculously high drinking water standards, Gamma inwardly cursed the Aeldari for being so finicky!
However, the Aeldari's finickiness forced Gamma to continue chatting with Ulthwe. After all, "Plague" had poor teeth and couldn't chew through armor made of psychic bones. Anything that could chew through it would be detected immediately, and there was no way to threaten the Aeldari Craftworld, which was God knows where.
"Ulthwe, I see that your armors are all different. Is it because of your different duties, or for some other reason?" Curious Gamma continued his questioning.
Ulthwe took the water bottle Gamma handed back, poured himself a cup, and said, "Our hypersensitive physiques and emotions make our minds easily stimulated and affected, and our excellent psychic talents make us easily targeted by evil entities in the Warp."
"Pfft, you really have it tough!" the little Tech-priest said with feigned emotion.
This remark earned him some goodwill from the Farseer. Only the Aeldari themselves knew how hard their lives were, which made Ulthwe willing to say a few more words to Gamma.
"To solve this problem, the first Phoenix Lord, Asurmen, designed the 'Path' for us. Each Path has corresponding strict behavioral guidelines."
"If they wish, a Craftworld Aeldari can choose their own Path, spending hundreds of years dedicated to perfecting their skills, and then moving on to another professional Path they like."
"However, we advocate for sticking to one job and striving for perfection, because everything other than focusing on one's own duties is superfluous and can lead to a loss of focus."
The little Tech-priest raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are there many types of Paths?"
"Many, encompassing all professions in our lives."
"Hmm, it's good to be born human in this life. If I were born an Aeldari, wouldn't I have to do one job until I die? Could the Craftworld also be called 'Immortal Realm,' and everyone be 'Immortals'—Rice Immortal, Scrubber Immortal, Screw Immortal..." Gamma suddenly thought, nonsensically.
Just then, one-tenth of Gamma's left brain came up with an idea, so he changed his tone and asked,
"Oh, I see. Ulthwe, you've been considering this for quite some time. Do you have any thoughts?"
The sudden direct question surprised Ulthwe. He actually didn't have a plan at the moment. According to his original idea, he would attack some key personnel in Gamma's fleet, create chaos, take the opportunity to rescue his companions, and also exploit the human tendency for internal strife to take Gamma away in the confusion.
However, this time, the humans were different from those he had encountered before; they were unprecedentedly united, leaving him nowhere to start. Just as Gamma proposed cooperation, this made him take the risk of appearing.
But Gamma's request, though reasonable, was not something he could decide. After much hesitation, Ulthwe decided to speak truthfully.
"If you, Gamma, want to claim some simple technologies as compensation, I can agree to that. However, regarding artifacts, or more advanced and dangerous technologies that are forbidden from use, that is not something I can decide," Ulthwe said candidly.
Upon hearing this, the little Tech-priest showed an expression of displeasure, and with a slightly sarcastic tone, said, "I didn't expect that we humans and you Aeldari are quite similar in our attitude towards our own technology. Do you also have technological prohibitions?"
"Yes."
Gamma had originally intended to seize the opportunity to mock the Aeldari and provoke Ulthwe, but he hadn't expected the Aeldari to actually have such a thing as 'technological prohibitions.' This was beyond his expectation, but he didn't believe everything Ulthwe said, so he asked with a suspicious look:
"Did you Aeldari also have an Iron Men rebellion?"
Ulthwe shook his head and said, "I have heard about your human creations betraying you, but our reason for prohibiting high-end technology is different from yours."
"At the peak of the Aeldari Empire, the stars were merely our playthings, to be extinguished and rekindled on a whim. Surfing solar flares was merely a pleasant pastime. Dreams could be realized with just a thought, and death was like rest; one could awaken whenever one wished."
"—" The little Tech-priest was green with envy.
"But after the Fall of the Aeldari, although we still efficiently utilize the basic production technologies from before the Fall, our attitude towards more advanced technologies is one of respectful avoidance, keeping them locked away. It's not out of fear of the technologies themselves, but rather a concern that unrestrained use of such power would affect ourselves again."
"A life without struggle and moderation is the first step on the Path to damnation!"
Hearing the Aeldari's humblebragging, Gamma thought indignantly, "They clearly inherited the legacy of the Old Ones, and now they claim it as their own whenever they open their mouths. How shameless! No FACE! We humans developed everything ourselves! Self-reliant!"
Seeing the little Tech-priest's distorted face due to envy, jealousy, and hatred, the Farseer thought it was because he had rejected the other party's request.
This made Ulthwe, who had shifted from a kidnapping-and-force mindset to a peaceful negotiation mindset, feel a bit embarrassed himself. Regardless of whether he voluntarily changed, he now had only this path to choose.
Then Gamma said unhappily, "Ulthwe, I think I've been very kind. I voluntarily dropped the matter of your kidnapping, allowing this issue to be resolved peacefully and without sacrifice, yet this is how you repay me!"
"I also made it very clear to you that I'm not ignorant of your technology. Your technology is all built on psychic bone material, so even if I got my hands on it, it would be useless. Making this request was merely giving you an out, and giving myself a reason to help you, not because I truly have any designs on your psychic technology."
"You say you can't make decisions, you say you have prohibitions. Alright then, I'll ask you a question: do you know when the crisis that destroyed your world will arrive? Have the humans or other species you kidnapped now gained their freedom? Or are you still holding them under house arrest?"
.....
Ulthwe could not answer Gamma's three questions. Even the Supreme Seers did not know when or in what form the apocalypse would arrive. The humans and Titan Star people brought to the Craftworld were not released after the Seers detected no unusual differences in their souls, because the Seers also did not know what the "Shadowy Phantoms" truly looked like.
The Aeldari's silence completely extinguished the remaining compassion in Gamma's heart. Kindness was for kind people. If the Aeldari living on the Craftworld were innocent, wasn't he innocent too?
Don't think of yourself as the protagonist; the world doesn't revolve around you. You're just someone trying to live and live happily!
Gamma repeated this sentence in his mind, muttering it countless times, before continuing to speak:
"Ulthwe, how can I trust you when you act like this? Why should I, a human, risk my life for you without complaint? If you think you can make me compromise through threats, then you underestimate me too much. The day I decided to form an exploration fleet to travel the galaxy, I was already prepared to die along the way!"
"I'm willing to talk to you now only because there are still many places I haven't been to, and ideals I haven't realized. But if my journey is to end today, I will accept it calmly!"
"...
Gamma's attitude silenced the Farseer. If he were Gamma, facing such a situation, he would also choose to go down in flames. After a long struggle, Ulthwe spoke:
"I need to return to the Craftworld to report this matter to the Seers!"
"You may."
When Ulthwe spoke these words, deep within the Aeldari Craftworld, countless light-years away from Gamma's star system, the members of the Seer Council, who were in meditation, suddenly awoke from their trance. Psychic energy was warning them. The last time they had such a simultaneous feeling was when they were prophesying the apocalypse.
Ignoring everything else, profound runes flashed around them, protecting their souls from being discovered by demons, allowing them to find clues to the psychic warning in the sea of souls. But even though the Seers risked diving deeper than before, they still found nothing.
"Is the apocalypse about to happen?!" one Seer muttered to himself.
"Perhaps it's a new crisis." Another Seer said, "It shouldn't be."
"Like a fly caught in a spider's web..."
"Are we just waiting to die?!"
"We are already in the jar—"
"Then break it!"
"Go find the Supreme Seer, we need external help, we need the Shadowy Phantoms!"
"Yes, yes."
Some left, some stayed. Those who left carried fear mixed with fighting spirit, while those who stayed were calm but resentful. But they did nothing, merely closing their eyes and continuing to immerse themselves in observing fate.
No force in the Milky Way could weave the threads of fate and manipulate the future like the Aeldari, and their Seers were infamous for doing so frequently.
However, the Aeldari often forgot that just because you foresaw something a second ago, it didn't mean the future wouldn't change in the next second.
Thus, Seer predictions going awry became a cosmic norm.
After so many failed predictions, the Craftworld Aeldari were not unaware of the dangers and uncertainties of "prophecy." However, their sparse population and size forced them to rely on the "prophecies" of their Seers to survive in the galaxy. Only with the help of "prophecy" could they use the smallest amount of power to stir up various factions and steer events in a direction favorable to the Craftworld Aeldari.
However, the Craftworld Aeldari's reliance on "prophecy" was not solely due to this reason. Because they depended on "prophecy," they depended on "Seers." Over time, although the Seers had not declared it legally or nominally, they had essentially become the ruling class of the Aeldari Craftworld.
If the Aeldari were to choose the most important Path, their answer would undoubtedly be the Seer Path. But the problem also lay here: although the Path could protect the Aeldari from the threat of Slaanesh, its essence was to control emotions, not to dissolve them.
Some Aeldari ultimately could not suppress their inner emotions and were overwhelmed, falling deeply into the desire for the perfect actualization of their current Path. These Aeldari, unable to maintain balance, were considered lost. They would eventually become the embodiment of their own Path, such as the Seers of the Seer Path.
This "loss" caused the Seers to uncontrollably pursue and reshape the vast threads of destiny, verifying, influencing, and changing the present, future, and past "seen" by every Aeldari Seer in the galaxy.
Whether they complied or struggled, these Seers were more like marionettes manipulated by fate.
But precisely because of this, the more severe the "loss," the more accurate the Seer's prophecy, and the stronger the Craftworld Aeldari's reliance on that Seer.
For example, if you know that nine out of ten things a Seer says are true and can save you nine times, but one lie might kill you faster and more miserably, do you believe it or not?
From the Tyranid swarm that eats everything, to the young Tau Empire, then to the galaxy's "big brother" the Imperium of Man, and the old rivals the Necrons who have reawakened with resentment, and their grim dark cousins, as well as the Green Skins who waaaagh without picking opponents, the Aeldari sit at home feeling lost, with burly men lined up outside their door.
In such a situation, do these survivors of the Aeldari's Fall have any other option besides belief?
When an infected person of "Plague of Poison" appeared, the father, who was constantly brewing "thick soup", was delighted to discover a new plague had been born in the current world.
What vigorous life, what a greedy good child.'
The God of Plagues was surprised by the infectivity and lethality of "Plague of Poison", and his movements of stirring the large pot couldn't help but quicken a bit. It was much more outstanding than many children in the garden. Although the father "loved" all his children equally, this did not prevent him from liking "good children".
"Hmm?"
Nurgle wanted to bless the newborn plague. Although this child was only just beginning to show its potential now, and was destined to achieve something in the future, the father still wanted it to come to the garden and reunite with him sooner. But just as Nurgle was about to sprinkle the blessing from the ladle in his hand, he found that this child seemed a bit off.
"There's the smell of annoying bugs, and––and––
Nurgle thought for a long time before remembering. It smelled like Vashtorr, that guy who liked to make noisy creations out of steel. Although the father had not directly dealt with him, his child Mortarion and his descendants liked Vashtorr's things, so the father still remembered him.
"Annoying fellow."
The God of Plagues felt he had been offended. Vashtorr dared to extend his hand into his domain, and it was "brewed" with bugs that everyone hated. After a moment of hesitation, the father still poured out the blessing. The child was innocent, and Vashtorr was not a good father.
Rotigus, come see me."
Following Nurgle's summons, Rain Father, shaking his fat, ran over anxiously from a distance. Nurgle looked at his chief Great Daemon with some annoyance. This child had "just" done a very embarrassing thing, but he also felt a little heartache. Ever since that incident, this child had been hiding in a corner by himself, secretly wiping away tears, and didn't dare to see him. But this was his garden, and nothing could escape his eyes.
"father, I..." Rotigus lowered his head, not daring to look at Nurgle.
"Go out for a stroll, don't always stay by yourself."
"But they—I—... I understand, father."
Nurgle sighed inwardly, knowing that the other children were making fun of Rotigus because of that incident, and even the daemons under Slaanesh were causing Rotigus "trouble" because of it.
"Take your brothers and go teach that Vashtorr a lesson."
Rotigus looked up in surprise upon hearing this. He didn't care why the father wanted to trouble Vashtorr. He only needed to know that the father still loved him the most, and trusted him the most, and that was enough.
"Yes, father!"
Rotigus responded with a serious expression, a look rarely seen on a Nurgle daemon's face. It seemed Rain Father intended to do this beautifully this time! Beautiful enough to shut the mouths of all the daemons who mocked him!
"Hmm, much more spirited. Play more with your brothers. A family has nothing that can't be talked about."
"I understand, father."
Rotigus still responded with a serious expression. He wanted to call all the helpers he could find, both to fulfill the father's entrustment and to show them who was the father's 'most favored'.
"Then go."
"Yes, father!" Rotigus replied with a serious face. Watching Rotigus, who had arrived panicked and fearful, leave full of drive and vitality, Nurgle didn't expect that a casual act would help him solve a troublesome matter, and he liked "Plague of Poison" even more.
"Good child, you helped me a lot as soon as you were born. You're truly a lucky star."
After speaking, he casually poured another spoonful of blessing, and then wanted to continue brewing the thick soup. But Nurgle didn't like the number "2". After a moment of hesitation, he poured out another spoonful. It was normal to be partial to an excellent child, as long as the other children didn't find out.
"Burp!"
"Burp!"
"Burp!"
Ulthwe watched the little Tech-priest burp three times in a row, his eyebrows instinctively furrowing. Such behavior was too crude in the eyes of the elegant Eldar.
"Sorry, sorry, I ate too much just now," Gamma said, rubbing his head apologetically.
"Overeating is not good."
"Uh, thanks, Ulthwe, when do you plan to depart?"
"Now, how about we move towards the Webway Gate?" the Farseer said.
The little Tech-priest waved his hands repeatedly after hearing this. Although he was interested in the Webway, he was afraid the Eldar had other tricks up their sleeves, so he said, "Let's stay here. With all these injuries, I really don't want to be exposed to the cold wind anymore."
A hint of disappointment flashed in the Farseer's eyes. If they were closer to the Webway Gate, with his psychic mastery, he could construct a temporary teleportation portal in a very short time, taking Gamma directly to the gate before the humans reacted.
"Alright, I hope you can keep your word."
"Don't worry, I always keep my promises."
After Ulthwe left, the little Tech-priest immediately became bored. He hadn't been so idle in a long time. With nothing else to do, he started staring intensely at the remaining Eldar, making them a little uncomfortable.
"What are you staring at?" a Howling Banshee asked.
The little Tech-priest reflexively retorted, "What's it to you?"
"Uh—too bored, so I can only study your equipment."
"Hmph!"
Hearing the Eldar's disdainful sneer, the little Tech-priest's eyes darted, and he looked at the other party with an idiotic gaze, saying, "I really don't understand. You're almost reduced to homeless dogs, so why are you still so arrogant?"
"Oh, no, you who make your homes on your Craftworlds aren't *almost* reduced to homeless dogs, you *already are*."
"You're asking for death!" The Banshee immediately drew her warblade and pointed it at the little Tech-priest.
Gamma was so startled that he recoiled sharply, then yelled exasperatedly, "You're asking for death! Do you know how dangerous your actions just now were? Do you know how many eyes are on this place? Do you know how many weapons are pointed at your head right now?!"
"If your actions just now caused an accidental discharge, don't you understand the consequences?!"
Hearing the little Tech-priest's reprimand, the Banshee who had pointed her knife at Gamma froze in place, and only after a long while did she retract her weapon. After this commotion, the atmosphere on the scene suddenly became awkward.
After a long while, Gamma spoke again, "You should choose a representative to take off their war mask and communicate with me. The current situation cannot be handled by your current personalities, who only know how to fight and kill."
After deliberation, the remaining Eldar decided that what the little Tech-priest said made some sense, so one of them took off their mask.
Seeing the face beneath the Eldar's grim mask, the little Tech-priest was glad he had no such desires in this life. The cold female assassin instantly transformed into a pure and beautiful little white flower, emphasizing a stark contrast. If this were on the True Lord's territory, it would charm a pile of little Japanese fans. Although this little white flower was nearly two meters tall, those pointed ears could still poke many people's XP.
"Pfft," the little Tech-priest smacked his lips without speaking.
"Human, what do you have to say?" the little white flower asked a bit nervously.
"Hmm, nothing, just that I feel your changes after taking off your masks are really big," Gamma said honestly.
"..."
"Ulthwe, how long will he approximately need to return this time?"
The little white flower thought for a moment and said, "I cannot determine that. It depends on how long the Farseers deliberate. If it's just a round trip, it will probably take seven days of this world's time."
"That long? Don't your worlds have Webway Gates connected to here?"
The little white flower didn't expect Gamma to know about the Webway, so she had to explain, "The Webway allows us to travel across the galaxy at speeds beyond your imagination, but it is not instantaneous teleportation."
"Hmm, alright, I understand. Then for such a long time, how do you plan to cope? You can't just sleep rough here, can you?"
Towards this little white flower, who clearly looked easy to bully, the little Tech-priest directly adopted a leader-like demeanor, further pressing, "Don't be silent. This problem must be solved. I'm an injured person, and a child. If I fall ill, do you believe my people will rush over directly?!"
"Speak up! Can't you even solve such a simple matter?!"
"..."
"Pfft!"
The successive questions made the youngest Howling Banshee among the Eldar look at her companions helplessly. The Eldar, who had originally intended for more experienced warriors to take on the roles of vigilance and guarding, had no choice but to have another person remove their mask. Seeing this, the little white flower quickly put her mask back on, and her aura changed again.
"Human, don't you think it's despicable to pressure a young person?" the seemingly older Banshee said in a very unfriendly tone.
"Young?" Gamma said, pointing at the female assassin, then at himself, with a face full of confusion.
"..."
The Banshee found the short human in front of her more troublesome and shameless than she had imagined. She didn't know how Ulthwe could chat with this barbaric monkey for so long, so she said with disdain, "Don't think that just because you've tampered with your genes to make yourself short, you can impersonate a child."
You're dead! Don't get angry, don't get angry, Gamma, why are you arguing with a dead person! The little Tech-priest's face flushed as he tried to calm himself down.
"Hmph, how are you going to solve the accommodation problem? If you can't solve it, I'll—"
Gamma's words were interrupted by the Banshee: "You don't need to worry about it, we have our own way."
"Good!"
Having achieved his goal, Gamma said no more. He still had at least seven days to complete his plan; rushing would only reveal flaws.
The Banshee saw Gamma continue to stare at their armor and weapons and said nothing, only speaking a few words of Eldar to one of her companions. That Eldar then left, and after a while, flew back on a jetbike, landing and handing several small bags to the others.
These small bags made Gamma incredibly envious; they were "storage bags"! If he had such things, how could his "fantasy dream" have been shattered to such a state? So much regret!
That night, the little Tech-priest slept in his first tent, made of wraithbone, with one-touch setup and retraction. It expanded to ten square meters and shrunk to the size of a palm, breathable and automatically temperature-regulating.
Blood loss, fright, and the battle of wits with the Eldar made Gamma dive into the Eldar's tent as soon as it was set up. He wrapped himself in his cloak and fell into a deep sleep, completely oblivious to the two Eldar standing beside him.
But the Eldar guarding Gamma didn't notice that when Gamma lifted his hand to yawn before sleeping, his pupils suddenly contracted, and his entire body froze for a second.
Because Gamma saw a small wisp of mist in his palm, very small, very thin, but it was truly there!
He could control "Plague of Poison" directly, without any instruments, just through his own will!!!
Pretending to sleep through the night, Gamma could only think of one thing: where did this ability come from? Could it be that he still had untapped potential?
But this idea was quickly dismissed. He had created many things, and if he had this ability, he would have noticed it long ago. After much thought, the young Tech-priest had no choice but to face the answer he least wanted to confront: he was being targeted by Nurgle!
Shortened life! Doomed! Emperor, I was wrong! I shouldn't have abandoned you, save me!
The young Tech-priest forced himself not to tremble, so that the Aeldari monitoring him wouldn't detect anything unusual.
(Emperor: You brat, do you know how long it's been since you showed your face? Now you remember your uncle!)
Grandpa Emperor, I'm being targeted by the Green Fatty. He's giving me blessings!
(Emperor: Hmm! Damn it! Get to Terra quickly!)
I can even control nanobiological weapons! Save me! I'm going to stink!
(Emperor: Nano? Biological? Weapons? How did you string those three words together! You haven't shown your face in so long, it turns out you've given me a big job!)
Emperor? Emperor? You're useless! You don't cherish this great treasure of mine. If you ignore me again, I'll really go join Chaos!
(Emperor: "(Blood) You wouldn't dare!")
After his prayers proved useless, the young Tech-priest resolutely stuck to the old tradition of abandoning "useless gods." Incense is for the gods who do the work!
Rather than praying to gods, it's better to rely on oneself. Clearing his mind to regain his sanity, Gamma began to scrutinize his current situation. After reviewing everything from beginning to end, the young Tech-priest concluded:
Nurgle had been targeting him for a while! Everything happening now was a trap set by Nurgle!
As for why Gamma came to such a conclusion, listen to his own explanation:
As early as at Thedan, he had dealt with Nurgle's greatest Greater Daemon. He wasn't sure what abilities the Chaos God possessed, and Gamma himself was unsure if his invisibility talent would work against such a conceptual entity.
If Nurgle had already discovered his peculiarity at that time and wanted to corrupt him, then deliberately concealing Gamma's information would be perfectly reasonable. The fact that Tzeentchian Daemons, who are adept at prophecy and gossip, didn't know about him also made sense. Otherwise, if Aeldari Farseers could deduce his existence by observing others' fate lines, there's no reason Tzeentchian Daemons couldn't! It must be Nurgle tripping up Tzeentch!
(Inside the Warp, Tzeentchian Daemons, receiving two completely contradictory orders, were utterly bewildered. However, they were already accustomed to such things, as their master was Tzeentch, who simultaneously proclaimed "All is according to plan" and "Change is so beautiful." They already had a mature strategy for fulfilling their master's commands: tripping each other up.)
(It doesn't matter whether they find the entity stirring fate. If such a "thing" truly exists, as long as it continues to stir, it will be beneficial to their master. As long as it continues to stir, one day "that thing" will reveal itself.)
(They are Tzeentchian Daemons. They never fail. The process is the result they desire.)
Let's continue listening to Gamma's explanation. Although Nurgle had been targeting him for a long time, he hadn't acted because Gamma could consume Daemons. Otherwise, it would be like the Calabash Brothers saving their grandpa, sending one to be defeated after another. Since there was no way for Daemons to corrupt him, there was only one solution: make the young Tech-priest fall himself.
Nurgle orchestrated the Ark Aeldari's doomsday crisis, forcing the Aeldari to seek him out for self-preservation, creating a sense of urgency for the young Tech-priest, compelling him to use "Plague Poison," a genocidal weapon, to eliminate the threat. Nurgle then blessed him, even granting him authority, tempting him with power. As long as he indulged in the security brought by power, that would be the beginning of his fall.
With the ability to manipulate "Plague Poison" and having witnessed its power, as long as Nurgle continued to create threats similar to the Aeldari for Gamma, he would frequently use this power and would do everything in his power to upgrade "Plague Poison," inevitably leading to his fall! He would fall into Nurgle's embrace!
The more Gamma pondered, the more he felt his analysis made sense, perfectly explaining everything that was happening. The young Tech-priest even suspected that Nurgle's dark hand might be behind Gorgon's evolution of the "poison" characteristic. Otherwise, Gorgon, having already suffered a defeat in the Far East, would have no reason to stubbornly cling to the Far East Sector. The galaxy is vast, and there's biomass everywhere. This was clearly setting up Gamma with experimental material to create "Plague Poison"!
"Hiss!" Thinking this, the young Tech-priest gasped and woke from his feigned sleep.
"A clever scheme! Instead of cooking soup, he's been studying military strategy!"
The young Tech-priest thought with a trembling liver, but how could he save himself now that he was "already" in Nurgle's clutches? Was struggling truly useful?
A tremendous sense of fear and powerlessness enveloped Gamma, making it difficult for him to breathe. He gasped desperately for air, and cold sweat seeped from his skin, melting the blood on his already healed wounds, turning into red sweat that drenched his cloak.
The Aeldari guarding Gamma saw the young Tech-priest trembling and their hearts skipped a beat. They thought Gamma was ill, and one of the Aeldari quickly left to discuss countermeasures with her companions.
Just as Gamma was lost in thought, the Aeldari who had left returned to the tent with two companions. These two Aeldari had removed their war masks.
"You two are the only ones among us who have studied the Path of the Healer. Quickly, see what's wrong with this human."
"We'll do our best, but we only had a basic understanding before we chose our paths. Human body structure and genetic structure are completely different."
"Just try your best!"
"Yes."
The two Aeldari began to examine Gamma's physical condition. They initially thought the human before them was suffering from an infection due to his injuries, but after a careful examination, they discovered that his self-healing ability was extraordinary. The wounds on his body had already healed, leaving no scars.
Like a puppet, Gamma cooperated with the Aeldari's examination. At this moment, by some strange impulse, he asked the two Aeldari in front of him:
"What does it feel like to be targeted by a Chaos God?"
As soon as Gamma's words fell, even the Aeldari who hadn't removed their war masks trembled slightly. The two who had reverted to their true natures were even worse, shaking like sieves.
"Don't mention him! Don't think about him!" One of them stammered, closing her eyes and muttering, more a reminder to herself than an answer to Gamma's question.
"You wouldn't understand!" the Banshee guarding Gamma replied.
...
After sending away the terrified Aeldari quacks, the young Tech-priest lay sprawled in the tent, his mind a jumble of thoughts.
Gamma had considered going directly to Terra to seek refuge with the Emperor, but Nurgle had countless ways to prevent him from reaching Terra. Any Warp surge could throw him into the next trap prepared for him. Even if he did reach Terra, he didn't know the Emperor's current condition, how much humanity he had left, or if he would have the same idea as Nurgle: to take him as a subordinate?
Gamma had also thought about returning to Thedan and fortifying it, but this also faced the problem of whether he could even get there. Even if he set up camp on this Forbidden World now, it would only be a temporary hiding place. The plan to make the soulless scatter their souls would likely fail, and when he died, his soul would still not escape.
The young Tech-priest even considered going with the Aeldari to their Craftworld. This way, Magos Lauster and Leia, as well as everyone in the Gear Fleet, wouldn't be dragged down by him. Let these damned Aeldari know what a mobile Nurgle attractor was. If he could attract Slaanesh too, then there would be a good show to watch. Being targeted by one Chaos God versus two Chaos Gods didn't seem to make much difference.
Although his thoughts were a tangled mess, the one thing that calmed the young Tech-priest was writing down Rain Father's name in his blank "Book of Hatred." He vowed he would never let go of this "culprit" who had led him to his current predicament!
If Rain Father hadn't gone crazy and fixated on Thedan, how would he have been targeted by Nurgle, and how would he have reunited with his adoptive father?
He had the power and conditions to influence others on a large scale.
If Rain Father hadn't appeared, he might now be a happy Tech-priest who had risen to the middle ranks of Thedan, with good looks and height, pretending to be foolish every day, playing the pig to eat the tiger, and charming countless Tech-priest Girls and Sister Superior!
"You just wait for me!" the young Tech-priest muttered fiercely to himself, leaving the nearby Aeldari bewildered.
In the Warp, Rotigus, who was about to unleash his full power on Vashtorr, suddenly sneezed a few times, sending the Nurgling playing on him flying. The Plague Father, sitting in front of him, was sprayed with putrid filth. He extended his long tongue and licked the taste of the filth from his face. The Plague Father said gloatingly:
"Is your butt wound still not healed, Rotigus?"
...
Rain Father shifted his backside uncomfortably, pretending not to hear, and continued the previous topic:
"This time, father is truly enraged. I'm being kind by asking you to come with me to teach Vashtorr a lesson. If you treat my kind reminder as nonsense again, like the time with the God-Plague, then I'll leave now, and you can continue your confinement here!"
The Plague Father pondered for a moment, then said to Rain Father: "Alright, this time we'll put aside our rivalry and fully focus on teaching Vashtorr, who dared to provoke father, a lesson."
Rain Father immediately burst into laughter upon hearing this, saying: "That's right! You and I have both made father lose face with the other few. Now even a petty wretch like Vashtorr dares to offend father. Who knows how many others are secretly planning the same thing? We must strike hard, kill the chicken to warn the monkeys!"
The Plague Father nodded in agreement, saying: "father being wounded by the Accursed One has given these wretches improper ideas. It's time to remind them of father's greatness."
"Hmm, so it's settled then. I still need to find other helpers. Don't just sit around."
"You don't need to remind me."
Rotigus left feeling satisfied. This time, he was determined to do things perfectly. father wanted them to be harmonious brothers, and he would show father. He could both satisfy father and gain the assistance of the Plague Father—it was a win-win.
This lessened Rain Father's resentment towards the "Deceiver" considerably. If it weren't for the despicable Ventris teaching him that "dignity" is sometimes more important than victory or defeat, and that face is meant to be thrown away in exchange for something, he wouldn't have dared to ask the Plague Father, who he was always at odds with, for help.
And after Rain Father left, the Plague Father also thought to himself that he must do a good job this time. He needed a great victory to restore his image in father's heart. Rotigus's failure gave him hope. As long as he dealt with Vashtorr obediently this time, regardless of whether he was the leading Daemon, it would leave the impression in father's heart that if he stepped in, victory would be assured!
Chewing on the bland "magic bread" that could sustain an Aeldari for a whole day, Gamma made a difficult decision in his heart: he would leave with the Aeldari.
Perhaps he couldn't save himself, but he could save those he cherished by staying away. He wouldn't let Mortarion's tragedy repeat itself on him. He would fight Nurgle alone!
"I didn't know I was so great," the little Tech-priest mumbled indistinctly.
The Aeldari around him had grown accustomed to Gamma's occasional soliloquies these past few days. At first, they would pay attention to what this short human was saying, pondering the meaning behind his words. They got nothing. His words were even more inscrutable than a Prophet's.
"It's been so many days. Shouldn't Ulthwe be back by now?" the little Tech-priest, eager to cause trouble for the Aeldari, asked impatiently.
"It's not that I'm lecturing you, but with your efficiency, how can you survive in a crisis-ridden galaxy?"
"Low birth rate, small population, dragging your feet on everything, and always revolving around nonsensical prophecies. Believing in prophecies is not as good as believing in strength. If you could just live up to Ulthwe's boasts, who in the galaxy would dare provoke you? Having a sword but not using it, is that the same as breaking the sword directly?"
"Oh, right, I forgot your ancestors were ancient self-exiled non-conformists. You don't have anything good."
Beneath their masks, the Aeldari gritted their teeth, glaring fiercely at the little Tech-priest who had belittled them. These past few days, this human did only two things: either he'd lie in his tent, lifeless and motionless, or he'd verbally assault them.
Whenever they verbally retaliated, the little Tech-priest always had a reason to retort, leaving them speechless. If they resorted to physical threats, the little Tech-priest would stick out his neck and tell them to go ahead and chop, threatening immediate orbital bombardment if they dared to raise a hand.
After more than ten days of torment, the Aeldari remaining here could confirm that this short human had a mental illness. Otherwise, he wouldn't have done such absurd things as writing on the ground for a Space Marine battleship to perform orbital bombardment fireworks for him.
Having thrown caution to the wind and acted crazy for over ten days, Gamma felt great now. He was much more "spirited." The sense of self-sacrificing redemption had "sublimated" his entire being, filling him with a "heroic spirit" to single-handedly challenge the world.
"I shouldn't have been reincarnated as a Tech-priest. I should have been reincarnated as a Space Marine. The light of knowledge and technology has obscured the heroic spirit in my soul. Omnissiah has wronged me!"
After lambasting the Aeldari, Gamma immediately shook his head, "admiring himself" and regretting that he was "born at the wrong time."
Not only did the Aeldari feel that the little Tech-priest had a mental problem, but even the Tech-priests who had been observing him also felt that their leader's recent behavior was unusually strange. If they hadn't believed that the little Tech-priest's actions had his own deep meaning and calculations, they would have rushed down to investigate by now.
"This is big trouble now," an Aeldari said to his companion telepathically.
"His subordinates will certainly not give up."
"When Ulthwe returns, we must inform him of the situation in time!"
"Humans are truly fragile."
"Savage and rude."
"Arrogant and presumptuous."
The little Tech-priest didn't know that these Aeldari, whom he had rendered speechless, were dissing him behind his back. Otherwise, he would have engaged in another verbal battle with the Aeldari, letting these arrogant long-ears know what "eloquence" was.
To the Aeldari's relief, Ulthwe finally returned, and they could finally be freed from the human's torment.
The War Witch, having listened to his companion recount everything the little Tech-priest had done, found his mood difficult to describe. But he could confirm that his compatriots had not exaggerated or misstated the facts, because Gamma was currently staring wide-eyed at the Supreme Prophet who had come with him.
"You are the Supreme Prophet?" Gamma asked, looking up at the ethereal Aeldari elder.
"..."
The Prophet did not speak. He wasn't even sure if there was truly a person in front of him, because from a psychic perspective, he saw nothing. He had only seen similar situations with Necrons.
"Speak!" the little Tech-priest rudely reminded the other party to answer his question quickly.
"You are that phantom?"
"I don't know. I only heard that term from Ulthwe. Stop wasting time, did you bring the stuff? Don't try to fool me with ordinary goods, I know your stuff inside and out!" the little Tech-priest said, extending his hand, using the "collateral" the other party had given him.
The Prophet was ninety percent sure that this human was the person he was looking for, but from the moment he stepped onto this planet, his psychic abilities had been frantically alerting him.
"Wait a moment, I have—"
The Supreme Prophet opened his mouth to say something, but Gamma impatiently interrupted, "Don't waste time. Give me the things, and then we'll go to your world."
"..."
"You kidnapped me, and now you're dragging your feet when it comes to it. If you keep this up, I'm not going!"
As soon as the little Tech-priest's words left his mouth, the Supreme Prophet's psychic warning suddenly paused, then started alarming again, making his eyes widen immediately ∑(°A°;): What does this mean?!
Ulthwe, seeing Gamma, who was completely different from when he left, and the Supreme Prophet, who was clearly hesitating and conflicted, had no choice but to ask telepathically:
"Prophet, what's wrong?"
"He should be the phantom we're looking for..."
"That's great, then Prophet, why are you...?"
"He is a natural disaster! He is a calamity! He is destruction!"
As a War Witch who had switched from the Warrior path to the Prophet path, Ulthwe could understand the Supreme Prophet's meaning, but he never imagined that this short human they had kidnapped was so dangerous!
"Prophet, we—"
"Don't rush to make a decision."
Gamma also noticed that the Aeldari old man opposite him had a strange attitude. Had he realized that this "precious egg" was too hot to handle and didn't dare to take it?
"Supreme Prophet, what do you mean? Do you really think I have no temper? Today I'll say this: if the deal doesn't go through, the treasure must stay. Consider it compensation for my emotional distress!"
Seeing the little Tech-priest's demeanor, as if he was going to force a sale, the Prophet's heart sank. He realized something felt wrong. Why did it feel like this human wanted to get into their world?
"Ulthwe, you distract him first."
"Yes, Prophet."
Ulthwe, having received the Supreme Prophet's instructions, decided to divert Gamma's attention elsewhere. So he smiled and said:
"Hahaha, Magos Gamma, don't be angry. The Prophet has been observing the Sea of Souls for many years and rarely communicates with people. Don't be so impatient. The collateral is with me. You can inspect it first."
Hearing that he could inspect the treasure first, Gamma decisively cast the old Aeldari aside and eagerly walked towards Ulthwe. The War Witch pulled out an ornate box carved with mysterious runes from his embrace. As psychic light flickered in Ulthwe's eyes, the runes on the box gradually faded until they completely disappeared.
Then the War Witch opened the Spirit Bone Box in front of the little Tech-priest. There were quite a few things inside, ten similar yet distinct rings.
Ulthwe generously indicated that Gamma could touch them. The little Tech-priest didn't stand on ceremony, immediately reaching out with eyes gleaming. However, Gamma only looked for a moment before giving Ulthwe a strange look. Each time he picked up a ring and examined it carefully, after putting it down, he would give him another strange glance.
The undisguised gaze made the War Witch very uncomfortable, but to buy more time for the Supreme Prophet, he could only force a stiff smile.
After Gamma had looked at all ten rings, the little Tech-priest asked, "Ulthwe, tell me honestly, do you not know what they are either?"
"..."
Gamma's question completely "froze" the War Witch's stiff smile. They truly didn't know what these were, only that they were items passed down from the ancient Aeldari Empire. How to use them and what their functions were, they had no idea. For so many years, countless Bonesingers had tried to unlock their secrets, but all had failed.
The Aeldari's reaction had already given Gamma the answer. As he slipped the rings onto his fingers, he grumbled to the Aeldari:
"Is this how you repay my sincerity? Don't you think it's too much?!"
Ulthwe merely looked at Gamma awkwardly, not stopping his actions. Mortgaging this useless treasure to a human was a decision jointly made by the Prophet Council and the Autarchs. This way, even if it was lost, it would not affect them in any way. But they hadn't expected their intentions to be directly seen through by the human in front of them.
"This—" Ulthwe wanted to explain, but didn't know how.
At this moment, Gamma held up his hands, covered in rings, and said to the Supreme Prophet, who was pondering something, "Give me this as an apology. I swear by the Omnissiah that I will no longer pursue your kidnapping of me. How about it?"
The Prophet, whose mind had been wandering, was brought back to reality by Gamma. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Agreed."
"Deal. Then from now on, this thing belongs to me." Gamma smiled brilliantly, like a fox who had stolen a chicken.
Since the Prophet had spoken, Ulthwe naturally had to obey. He said nothing, just handed the box to Gamma, but the little Tech-priest waved his hand, telling him to put the box away. This simple action made the War Witch's eyes widen, because the rings, which were originally completely the wrong size, were now firmly fixed on Gamma's ten fingers, as if they had grown there.
Gamma, having obtained his "new toys," couldn't wait to experiment. Under the gaze of the Aeldari, Gamma raised his right hand, pointed his index finger to the sky, and shouted:
"Resurrect, my warriors!"
As the command was issued, the ring on his index finger emitted a beam of light that shot into the air, exploding into countless light points. As the light points slowly fell, formless warriors made of smoke and light appeared in mid-air. The light points that did not transform into formless warriors, upon landing, became crystal constructs twice the height of a Space Marine, crawling out of the ground. Their limbs, pulsating with energy, left no one doubting their power.
The dumbfounded Aeldari stared blankly at Gamma, but the little Tech-priest's actions did not stop. He retracted his right hand, placed it before his chest, with his index and middle fingers straight, forming a "sword-finger" gesture, and loudly proclaimed:
"Myriad Swords Return to Origin!"
As the ring on his middle finger emitted a deep blue light, the warblades at the waists of the Aeldari present suddenly flew into the air, circling above Gamma's head.
The Eldar, startled by Gamma's "divine power," cried out: "Oh, Great Magos Gamma, please withdraw your divine power! Our hearts can't take it!"
Great Magos Gamma: "Ignorant wretches, do not ruin this Great Magos's mood. What are you looking at? This Great Magos is standing here for you to strike. Can you useless beings break this Great Magos's 'Indestructible Body'?"
That was roughly the scene, and that was roughly the meaning.
"Oh, oh, Magos Gamma, you—"
"Mine!"
...
"Don't look, it's still mine even if you look!"
..."
Finally, the Supreme Prophet voiced the question in all the Eldar's hearts: "How did you do it?"
The young Tech-priest twirled his cloak, revealing half a buttock, and said nonchalantly, "Divine objects conceal themselves; the virtuous obtain them."
.....
While the Eldar were still shocked that their treasure had recognized a human as its master, the Tech-priests on the orbit, upon discovering that their leader had obtained a divine artifact and was safe, immediately began large-scale teleportation. They wanted to tear these damned Eldar to shreds!
The Eldar, realizing the situation was dire and wanting to flee, were immediately surrounded by the Gear Fleet's terrifying deployment capability, barely running a few steps.
They weren't killed directly because the Tech-priests wanted to torment them thoroughly.
"Stop! Everyone stop!" The young Tech-priest's voice simultaneously echoed in everyone's minds.
This divine power made Gamma's faction tremble with excitement, and they quickly stopped their actions. Then the young Tech-priest waved to the Eldar, inviting them to come to him.
"I already said I wouldn't pursue the matter of them kidnapping me. Now they are guests, don't be rude, understand?"
Hearing Gamma's command, the Tech-priests could only glare fiercely at the xenos before reluctantly putting away their non-lethal weapons like stun guns and tranquilizer guns.
The Eldar, having narrowly escaped, quickly escorted the Supreme Prophet to Gamma's front. The young Tech-priest raised an eyebrow and said to the Eldar, "This business wasn't a loss, was it?"
The other Eldar did not respond; only Ulthwe replied with a wry smile, "No loss, no loss."
"Let's go, come to my ship and take a look. Haven't we finished discussing the business yet?"
With that, Gamma turned and walked away without looking back. Seeing this, the Eldar exchanged glances and could only follow.
Magos Lauster, Leia, and the injured Jacob rushed to Gamma's side, thoroughly examining him before finally feeling relieved.
"Gamma, if we—"
Patting the red-eyed Jacob, Gamma interrupted what he was about to say and comforted him: "It's not your fault. On the contrary, you were injured because of me. If the assassin hadn't missed your vital points, you might have already died. It's good that you're safe."
"If anything were to happen to you because of me, I would never feel at peace for the rest of my life."
"Boss—"
"Gamma."
"Alright, alright, Leia is here too. Aren't you men ashamed?"
Magos Lauster walked to Gamma's side and whispered, "What are you planning to do with these xenos?"
With bodily functions and senses several times greater than ordinary humans, the Eldar following not far behind could easily hear Magos Lauster's question. Gamma somewhat evasively avoided looking at Magos Lauster, nervously averting his gaze and saying:
"I still have things to discuss with them."
He didn't ask anything more, but Magos Lauster's eyes held a thoughtful expression.
Back on the Gear Boy, after washing off the grime, Gamma became busy. No one knew what he was doing, locking himself in the laboratory.
It was just that when Gamma emerged from the laboratory again, he carried an unprecedented weariness.
"Uh, sorry, I had so many things piled up during this time that I forgot about you all." Looking at the Eldar in the detention room, their lips cracked and looking extremely weak, Gamma said apologetically.
He had truly forgotten these Eldar, or rather, he hadn't forgotten, but Gamma hadn't expected the Tech-priests to directly throw the Eldar into a cell specifically for detaining psykers, only giving them a little water and food daily to keep them alive.
This special cell was the culmination of anti-psyker technology. Even the guards delivering food were a few soulless individuals Gamma had gone to great lengths to find. Even normal humans would get the shivers entering it, let alone the Eldar, who were entirely psykers.
He quickly distributed the spirit bone water bottle and magic bread to the Eldar. They, disregarding their image, began to chew and swallow heartily. After they finished their food, Ulthwe said with a wry smile:
"Consider it retribution."
"Tsk, look at this mess." Gamma shook his head, clicking his tongue.
He then looked speechlessly at the Eldar elder, who was so hungry he was barely alive and needed help being fed, and said:
"Supreme Prophet, you are one of the most powerful psykers in the galaxy. Even if this room suppresses psychic abilities, and even if you didn't want to make things too tense for cooperation, you could still have caused some commotion, right?"
The young Tech-priest truly didn't know what to say. He had almost completed the warhammer Galaxy's kill achievement—starving a Supreme Prophet to death.
"We tried to persuade him, but the Prophet refused." Ulthwe didn't doubt Gamma was lying to him; just looking at the deep dark circles under Gamma's eyes, he knew Gamma was truly busy.
Those who play with prophecy are a bit abnormal in the head, Gamma thought.
After waiting for a while, the Supreme Prophet, having recovered some strength, spoke his first words: "How will you let us go?"
"Huh?"
"How can I make you give up destroying our world?" the Prophet said again.
The atmosphere in the detention room immediately became tense after the Prophet spoke. All the Eldar instinctively reached for their waists, but found nothing; their weapons had long been confiscated by the Tech-priests.
"What is the Prophet saying? Although we have conflicts, I haven't even killed you all, so how could I destroy your world? I don't even know where it is, okay?"
"Please, Ulthwe, use your brains. Is the Supreme Prophet confused from hunger, or are all the Prophets of your Craftworld like this, always scaring people with doomsday prophecies?"
Before being caught with evidence, Gamma would deny to death that he had poisoned the Eldar Craftworld. His persona must be maintained; the mask of a warm-hearted Tech-priest who bore no grudges must be worn tightly.
Unexpectedly, the Prophet said again: "You can make any demands. Even my life is an option."
"No!"
"Impossible!"
"Human, I kidnapped you. Any resentment you have should be directed at me."
"And me."
The young Tech-priest looked at the Eldar scrambling to die and felt a bit uneasy. Is prophecy really that accurate?
But to make him reveal a "flaw" like this was simply a pipe dream!
Thinking this, the young Tech-priest, full of acting prowess, cast a pleading look at the War Witch. Ulthwe wasn't entirely sure why the Prophet said that, but he believed the Prophet's words: Gamma would destroy their world.
After failing to get help, Gamma could only helplessly ask, "Have you never thought that prophecy itself is the reason your world will be destroyed?"
"Take the present as an example. You firmly believe I will destroy your world, you hate me, you resent me, and you want to kill me."
"I originally had no such thoughts, but precisely because you firmly believe in the prophecy, I felt threatened. To ensure my life's safety, I developed the idea of eliminating future troubles and began to ponder how to destroy your world."
"If I truly find a way someday, and your world is destroyed by me, the prophecy will have accurately come true."
"Then I ask you, in this matter, what is the cause, and what is the effect?"
..
Gamma's question left the Eldar unable to answer. Such examples were countless in Eldar society, but for survival, the Craftworld Eldar could no longer exist without prophecy.
Unexpectedly, the Supreme Prophet blurted out another sentence: "It's not prophecy."
I should have starved you to death earlier, old man! Gamma was filled with regret, but he quickly noticed the strange atmosphere in the room. In an instant, Gamma understood what was happening.
The young Tech-priest said with a speechless expression, "Prophet, stop messing around. You've been playing with prophecy your whole life, why suddenly switch to thinking with your brain? Could fasting have the function of enlightening wisdom?"
Not just Gamma, even Ulthwe and the others had strange expressions. Seeing this scene, the Supreme Prophet almost passed out from anger.
What does he mean, "now switch to thinking with your brain"? They've always used their brains, okay? Without extraordinary wisdom, how could they find the most accurate path among the true and false, the real and illusory, constantly changing destinies!
"Don't argue. Ever since I set foot on this land, my psychic abilities have been warning me, telling me you are dangerous! Very dangerous!" The stubborn Eldar elder pushed away the Banshee supporting him and shakily sat up on his own.
Gamma glanced at him, then, admiring the treasure on his finger, said indifferently, "Are you sure, old man, that the source of danger isn't the warships in the sky? Don't forget, only two of you could kidnap me naked. Where am I dangerous?"
"Besides, even if I had the power to destroy the world, are you so sure I would definitely destroy your world?"
"Ulthwe, what do you say?"
The War Witch did not answer the young Tech-priest's question. He believed the Supreme Prophet… he thought.
At this moment, the Eldar elder suddenly said, "Very well, let us part ways now and have no further dealings."
"That won't do." Gamma blurted out, refusing.
Damn it! This rotten old man is cunning; he set a trap for me! Realizing this, Gamma quickly changed his words:
"Didn't you say your world was about to be destroyed, and you were looking everywhere for that ghost? I've been working so hard, getting the fleet affairs in order, and you just say you're leaving? Look at my dark circles, is that fair to me?"
"Hmm, I am indeed very sorry. When I return, I will arrange for someone to send you compensation."
Gamma's face twitched, and he waved his hand, saying discontentedly, "I don't accept undeserved rewards. What kind of person do you take me for? Do I look like someone who lacks a few pennies?"
Seeing Gamma still not relenting, the Prophet continued to raise the stakes: "A rare treasure from the Eldar Empire era."
The young Tech-priest gulped, constantly telling himself that treasures were worthless compared to the safety of his companions, that the old man was lying to him, and that once the Craftworld Eldar were gone, the treasure would still be his.
"Heh, what a joke. A gentleman loves wealth but acquires it righteously. This Magos always conducts business with fair prices and no deception! Stop spouting nonsense."
"Ulthwe, keep an eye on your Supreme Prophet. One might think he's a prodigal prophet, not considering the Craftworld's future at all."
Ulthwe: "...."
Banshee:
"..."
Dimensional Spider: "..."
Reality was surreal; the Prophet was squandering, while the human was racking his brains for the Craftworld's future. But they weren't fools; by now, they all understood that the young Tech-priest was determined to go to their homeworld, and the Prophet's words were true.
Seeing the Eldar move to stand in front of the Prophet, shielding him, the young Tech-priest knew that his "benevolent" mask could no longer be worn. If he couldn't be the "good guy," then he could only be the villain!
Why force me? Wouldn't it be better to be a confused ghost? Gamma glared at the "old scoundrel" who had become refined and was shielding everyone in front of him.
Then, with a full "villain" demeanor, he covered his face with his ring-laden right hand: "Hehehe, you found me out after all."
"Do you know how laughable your resistance is in my eyes? It's useless, I am definitely going to your world!"
The timid little flower, who had always been cowering before Gamma, somehow found the courage to shout, "Never! Even if you kill us, you won't go to our world!"
"Yes, evil human, we should have killed you long ago!"
"Sisters, we must get the Prophet away."
"Human, prepare to die!"
"Snap." The young Tech-priest looked at the blustering Eldar with an ant-like gaze, then snapped his fingers at them.
The already weak Eldar immediately felt the last bit of strength in their bodies vanish without a trace. It was as if countless insects were crawling and gnawing at their bodies, and even the Supreme Prophet was no exception.
"Prophet, stop struggling. It's your bad luck to meet me. Psychic powers are ineffective against me, you see." The sinister-looking young Tech-priest showed a sarcastic smile to the Eldar old man with glowing eyes.
"This is impossible!"
"What's impossible?"
Casually using telekinesis to sweep away the troublesome Eldar, Gamma stepped by step to stand before the Prophet, who was still tentatively resisting, and looked into his angry eyes, saying:
"This current stalemate is all your fault. But I'm still quite puzzled. You're already sure I have designs on your world, yet you just let yourself be captured and starved half to death. Is there something wrong with your brain?"
Supreme Seers are Eldar who have walked the Path of the Prophet too far to leave; they are the embodiment of the Path.
Each Supreme Seer is considered one of the most powerful psykers in the galaxy, especially skilled in psychic mysteries including psychic divination, telepathy, telekinesis, and demonology.
They also wield Runes of Fate, which only Eldar Prophets can cast, and are protected by psychic rune armor.
By all logic, this Supreme Seer, who almost starved himself to death, could have easily made the Tech-priest suffer if he truly became ruthless. The reason he didn't was out of caution.
To understand the cause of the psychic warning, the Supreme Seer had been observing the ripples of fate in the Sea of Souls. To his horror, the original prophecy of doomsday had vanished. If that were all, he should have been overjoyed, but it wasn't just the fate of the Craftworld's destruction that disappeared; he couldn't see any other fates either. This meant their fate had indeed changed, but by being completely destroyed prematurely.
He tried to find clues to the new crisis but found nothing.
At that moment, the Supreme Seer understood that the culprit behind all this was the unobservable "ghost."
It wasn't that he hadn't thought of killing that human, but without the "ghost," they would still be destroyed, just in a different way, and nothing would truly change.
Utilizing all his lifelong knowledge and wisdom, the only way for the Supreme Seer to save them was to make the "ghost" spare them, and then use benefits to make the "ghost" help them overcome the crisis.
So, even if he almost starved to death, he had to avoid conflict with the human, just to increase the chance of gaining the "ghost's" forgiveness.
But he miscalculated. The human's goal was their world, not just to vent anger as he had thought.
"Oh, I see. Prophets are amazing, and prophecies are truly powerful!"
The Tech-priest gave a big thumbs-up to the old man who had been brought down by the "Poison Plague."
"You're right, my goal is your world, so don't cling to any hope," Gamma ruthlessly extinguished the last glimmer of hope in the Eldar's hearts.
Ulthwe, struggling weakly on the ground, asked brokenly and weakly, "Why?"
"I just thought of it, hahahahaha."
Laughing uproariously, Gamma, with an aura of one meter eighty, perfectly portrayed a mad villain. He felt fantastic now and understood why cold and ruthless big bosses always give long speeches after defeating the protagonist—it was simply too exhilarating.
"Please, spare our families. You can do anything you want to us."
Gamma, immersed in his villain persona, heard the plea, and his inner "tyranny" almost overflowed. He wanted to see who was so bold as to "unilaterally" add a scene for themselves and steal his spotlight.
Oh, it was a naive girl. So brave. I'll throw you into a goblin nest in a bit, thought the villain who didn't have any "goblins" in hand.
"What is your purpose? If it's for those treasures, we can give them all to you," the Prophet continued to strive for an opportunity for his home.
"Foolish! If I kill you, the treasures are still mine."
At this moment, Ulthwe suddenly burst into laughter, startling Gamma. Then the War Witch said, "We will not open the Webway Gate for you. Our world is on the other side of the Great Rift. You will never find—"
The Tech-priest just waved his finger in front of Ulthwe, and the exquisite ring made the other party's words abruptly stop, with a look of collapse appearing again.
Although Gamma didn't know if he could open the Webway, if he had to use psychic power as a key, he really had no good way, but this didn't prevent him from bluffing the Eldar.
"Heheheh, you will take me there." Saying this, Gamma beckoned to Ulthwe with his finger. The next second, a pale gray mist floated out of Ulthwe's body.
The Tech-priest, with the mist swirling around his fingertips, said to the terrified Eldar, "My 'Poison Plague' has already infected your world. As long as I wish, they can erupt in your world at any time."
"Ah! You devil! Demon!"
"I curse you!"
"Demon!"
Hearing the Eldar's curses directed at him, the Tech-priest was quite displeased with these extra actors. So, with a thought, he had the "Poison Plague" in their bodies add more force. These Eldar immediately began to convulse on the ground, unable to even utter wails.
Then, with another kick, he sent the completely broken Ulthwe into the abyss: "You wanted to go back to the Craftworld yourself; I didn't force you."
"Gurgle—gurgle—gurgle—." Ulthwe's throat made an indistinct sound.
Uh—he broke so easily—I'm so bad! Gamma felt a bit bored; the Eldar were too fragile.
The Supreme Seer, upon seeing Gamma's ability to manipulate the plague at will, had completely despaired. It turned out that from the very beginning, they had no hope of turning the tables; everything was within the calculations of this "newborn Chaos God."
"Why is the world so unfair? Why do you humans constantly give birth to beings like you?"
The Tech-priest didn't understand what the old riddle-teller meant, so he said, "What fairness? You Eldar stumbled into the position of galactic overlords and lived carefree for tens of millions of years. Now that you're targeted by evil beings, it's your own doing."
"Also, what do you mean by that? Do you know others similar to me?"
But the Supreme Seer did not explain to Gamma. He needed to gather strength, even if it meant burning his soul, to send out the message and secure a slim possibility for his kin.
Seeing that the old Prophet ignored him, the Tech-priest, exasperated, also added a bit of force to him, but it only resulted in a muffled groan.
Afraid of killing the stubborn old man, Gamma had to change his strategy. He opened his mouth and threatened, "If you don't explain, I'll detonate the plague right now. Don't think I can't do it just because the Craftworld is in the Imperium's dark side!"
Gamma wasn't lying about this point; he really could do it. He didn't know how he could, but he just could—it was like an instinct. Even if it was far away, even if he didn't know the location, it didn't hinder him from controlling the Poison Plague. Gamma thought it must be because there was no time and space in the Warp.
This was also why Gamma believed Nurgle was tempting him with power. Just imagine what would happen if he infected the entire galaxy with "Poison Plague"?
To buy time, the Supreme Seer had no choice but to compromise, so he said, "I don't know why, but you humans have indeed constantly given birth to gods who can walk in the mortal realm."
"Heh, old mystic, I'll hand you over to the Adeptus Ministorum and the Inquisition later!"
Not wanting to bother with the Eldar old man who was "labeling" him, the Tech-priest set his sights on the "broken-hearted" Ulthwe. A true villain, besides relying on schemes and their own strength to defeat the righteous, must do one thing: subvert the righteous and make them fall into depravity!
Kneeling beside the War Witch, the Tech-priest patted Ulthwe's face and said, "Ulthwe, I actually quite admire you. It's just a pity that you all actively provoked me."
"Gurgle—"
"Tsk, how pitiful. Clearly a hero who wanted to save his people, but in the end, became the one who destroyed them," Gamma said with a hint of regret in his tone.
Then, he said to the other Eldar, "You are all the same, truly pitiful!"
"Demon!"
"Evil being!"
"Curse away, curse away. If it makes you feel better, out of humanitarianism, I can bear it. But I need to make it clear to you, you provoked me first."
"If you hadn't blindly believed in the Prophet's prophecy, none of this would have happened. If you really want to trace the cause of everything, it's entirely your Prophet's fault. You wouldn't have been sent out to search for some ghost, you wouldn't have met me, and I wouldn't have developed any ideas about your world."
"Actually, I've always had a question for you. If you answer truthfully, I will spare your world!"
Gamma's words ignited a glimmer of hope in the Eldar's eyes. They knew this was the evil one's lie; the greedy evil one would never spare their world, but they had no choice.
"Since none of you are speaking, I'll take it as your consent. Can anyone tell me, does it hurt to be manipulated by prophecy and fate?" Gamma posed the question.
Hearing the question, the conscious Eldar couldn't help but recall their past understanding, and the various experiences they had endured. The unwillingness they had abandoned for survival leaped out from the unseen corners of their hearts.
After a long silence, so long that Gamma was beginning to grow a little impatient, the older Banshee spoke, "We were forced to drink poison to avoid dying of thirst. You tell me if it hurts."
"Ah, it seems you understand that prophecy cannot save you."
Walking to the Banshee's side, the Tech-priest stared into her eyes and said, "If you could break free from the shackles of fate, what would you be willing to pay? What would you be willing to pay for your kin?"
Another deathly silence, and then the Banshee spoke word by word, "Everything! Life! Body! Even my soul!"
"Tsk tsk, a great sacrificer, a noble soul, I like it."
Before he finished speaking, Gamma stomped heavily on the Banshee's face, grinding it with force, and with words full of lies yet undeniable, he said to the Banshee under his foot:
"Obey me, become my slave, and seize your world for me. I will promise you and your people a future without a future!"
"A future without a future?"
"Yes, whether it's happiness or pain, only I can decide your future. Let fate go to hell!"
"A future without a future." A different light flickered in the Banshee's eyes.
In the scene of the young boy stepping on the "Imperial Guard," every Eldar who heard these words felt a unique emotion surge in their hearts.
Craftworld Eldar are all desperate. You can never guess what crazy actions they will take in the future to escape their pathetic fate, such as creating half-Eldar hybrids with Space Marine gene-seed, or intentionally allowing Gene Stealers to infect themselves. The goal is only one, and this was the Banshee's final question:
"What will you do with our souls?"
"Uh—how about I try eating them—?"