Alexander stood by the ancient riverbank, looking at the silent young man before him.
The young man did not speak, merely gazing at the pale bone staff in his hand, as if remembering something, he drew a small knife from his waist.
He gently carved the white bone with the knife, shaping it into something resembling a boat or a ship.
Alexander vaguely recognized it as an Imperial-style starship.
The young man gently picked up the toy he had carved, raised it high, swept it across the sky, and then threw it with force.
The toy ship cut through the sky, and before it landed, it transformed into a starship traversing the galaxy, countless macro cannons and lance batteries firing in unison, illuminating the entire world like scattered stars.
The young man watched this scene with sadness, seeing countless beings among the stars die because of the starship he had carved, and countless worlds destroyed by his creation.
"I once thought I would bring prosperity and order to humanity," the young man said softly.
Then, the scene before Alexander changed, arriving in a village.
The village was composed of various simple mud huts, nestled beside golden wheat fields under the twilight, children played within, and adults chatted and laughed.
Occasionally, two or three dogs chased each other, and sometimes the wind gently caressed the small trees in the village.
The young man arrived, holding his father's skull.
He sculpted his father's wool onto the skull with clay and filled the eye sockets with shells traded from fishermen.
The young man caressed the rough cracks on his father's skull; he could see everything.
In the swaying wheat fields, one human killed another.
The young man held his father's skull and walked barefoot directly towards his uncle's hut.
The dogs running in the village seemed to sense something, letting out a low growl.
Crows perched on the eaves, twisting their heads to gaze at this moment.
Scavenging flies buzzed, waiting to feed.
Autumn snakes also poked their heads out of their holes.
The young man's uncle sat outside the door, the man aged and darkened by years of labor, like a gaunt shadow sitting outside the mud hut, stringing beads into a line to make a necklace for his daughter.
The young man's uncle slightly raised his head and called out the young man's name, but Alexander couldn't hear it clearly.
The young man merely raised his father's head high, gazing at his uncle without anger or sympathy.
Everything happened in an instant, the moment his uncle's gaze fell upon his brother's skull.
The young man's uncle collapsed, clutching his cunning chest tightly, a twisted look of pain on his weathered face, the necklace in his hand fell to the ground, shattering into beads.
People cried out in terror, screams and wails echoing through the ancient village, they cried out in some primitive Indo-European language.
The young man, however, stood calmly in place, watching his uncle near death from a sudden heart attack.
His uncle painfully opened his mouth, but what came out was not a wail, but a chilling whisper.
"The Dark King awaits you, Your Majesty," his uncle whispered before he died.
Alexander stood silently watching this scene, a look of interest on his face.
It seems the matter of the Emperor's uncle killing the Emperor's father was far more complex than imagined; he actually knew of the Dark King's existence.
Presumably, after the Emperor heard this name at the time, he would be wary of the Dark King for the next forty thousand years, but he didn't expect...
"I once thought I would bring prosperity and order to humanity."
The young man spoke again:
"..But I ultimately became the Dark King, the destroyer of worlds."
"Who would understand what you're saying!"
Alexander raised an eyebrow and said:
"Or are you Krishna or Oppenheimer?"
The young man was silent, merely gazing at Alexander.
"..What is the purpose of showing me all this? I'm not interested in family dramas from before the common era; I'm more curious if you ever sold your ass?"
As a transmigrator to the Warhammer universe, coupled with some things Sanguinius had said before, Alexander faced the young man before him with nothing but doubt, who knew what he was planning.
"Doraemon!"
"Return to Terra, our homeland."
The young man merely spoke in a low voice:
"I await you in the Imperial Palace. "
Alexander clutched his head, struggling slightly as he climbed up from the crystal floor of Baal's Heart.
His head was slightly dizzy, the scene he had just witnessed still echoing in his mind.
The Emperor, the figure of the young Emperor suddenly appeared in his mind, seemingly giving him something, and then hoping Alexander would go to the Terra Imperial Palace.
Alexander frowned, could this yellow-skinned fellow be setting a trap for him?
Thinking of this, he glanced at Sanguinius in the corner of his eye.
His power still seemed not to have recovered enough to penetrate the barrier between reality and the Warp; Alexander still couldn't hear what he was saying.
In any case, Alexander could only consider going to Terra after he was resurrected. Who knew what the Emperor was planning, and it was even hard to say if the current Emperor was still lucid.
The Emperor Alexander saw in the recent illusion was somewhat foolish.
Suddenly, Alexander noticed something extra in his four-dimensional pocket.
He looked closely, only to see a blurry figure curled up inside the four-dimensional pocket, seemingly ethereal yet solid.
"Parenting Program: Child Behavior Correction Re-education Progress: 88%"
"No additional parenting materials"
The figure was robust, wearing an orange and yellow striped top and brown pants, looking like a school kid?
And Alexander vaguely felt a hint of Ka'Bandha's aura on that figure, just like...
It was as if the four-dimensional pocket had used Ka'Bandha to reshape a new Greater Daemon. Alexander's Greater Daemon.
Alexander's eyes were slightly strange; could it be that, as Mephiston and Sanguinius said, he was essentially a Warp deity? Otherwise, how could he even have a Greater Daemon?
Alexander's attention involuntarily focused on the "daemon" in the pocket. In an instant, Alexander felt his consciousness overlap with it, as if it was essentially an extension of Alexander's soul and consciousness, a part of his existence. Then Alexander felt the impulse surging from this body composed of Warp power.
The impulse of anger, from Ka'Bandha, from the Blood God's domain.
Simple justice, from the Emperor, from a part the Emperor threw to Alexander.
The greed of plunder, from Alexander, from the domain of greedy dissolution.
But now, it was still a little short of birth, lacking a song.
Alexander slightly raised an eyebrow, did that mean Alexander should go catch another Slaanesh daemon and stuff it in?
Was this new daemon composed of Khorne as the base, plus the Emperor, greedy dissolution, and Slaanesh?
Had his golden finger evolved? Could it produce Greater daemons now?
Or was his Warp essence further awakening, as Sanguinius said? Or perhaps even Alexander's four-dimensional pocket, this golden finger itself, was actually an external manifestation of his Warp essence?
Alexander frowned deeply; no matter how he thought about it, the four-dimensional pocket didn't seem like a creation of this universe, yet this golden finger of Alexander's could interact with the Warp. He vaguely felt something strange.
But he wasn't an expert in Warp matters, so he could only temporarily suppress the doubts in his heart, planning to ask the resurrected Sanguinius about it later.
Alexander nodded to Mephiston, who stood by, took out an anywhere door from his four-dimensional pocket, and whispered to the anywhere door:
"Angel Keep."
Seth stood atop the Angel Keep's high tower, looking at the scene before him with a serious expression.
More than a dozen Flesh Tearers warriors he had carefully selected stood by his side.
Violet Void Shields roared into operation, layers of light covering the outside of the Angel Keep, like a shimmering bubble.
And outside the bubble, a silver-grey thick fog rose from the moat, as if it were water vapor evaporated from the Water of Thirst.
Seth recalled a conjecture that the Flesh Tearers' Chief Librarian, Scarban, had once told him: the Water of Thirst was essentially Dark Age of Technology nanomachines, which, after losing control, retained only the instinct to absorb water and self-replicate.
Now, these ancient nanomachines seemed to have been awakened, swirling above the moat, transforming into a silver-grey storm.
A faint tremor sounded, as if the nanomachines were murmuring, letting out their first roar in ten thousand years.
The silver-grey storm began to move, spreading like mist in all directions from the moat, like oppressive dark clouds descending from the sky.
Screech! ! ! !
Screeching sounds echoed in the air, the silver-grey storm roared, devouring the Tyranids. Any Tyranids that came into contact with the mist rapidly dehydrated, their bodies shriveled and fell into the sand.
In an instant, the entire area around the Angel Keep was engulfed by this silver-grey storm, and the roars of Tyranids creatures constantly came from within the storm.
No matter how terrifying the behemoth, it would turn into a dried corpse the moment it touched this silver-grey storm, and the silver-grey storm would continuously expand by extracting water.
For a moment, from Seth's perspective, the entire Angel Keep seemed to be enveloped in a layer of silver-grey mist.
After more than ten minutes, these silver-grey storms suddenly stopped in mid-air, instantly turning into countless raindrops falling, re-precipitating into the Water of Thirst, scattering across the desert outside the entire Angel Keep, leaving behind silver puddles and countless shriveled Tyranid corpses.
Machines that had slept for tens of thousands of years suddenly briefly resumed function. Seth watched this scene, unable to help but frown slightly.
He recalled the task Dante had given him.
"Is it the help of Saint Doraemon?" Seth's frown deepened: "Could it really be a Dark God of the Warp? Its power is so terrifying?"
Seth couldn't help but grip the Chainsword in his hand tightly.
He calculated the time, then nodded to the dozen Flesh Tearers warriors behind him.
They followed Seth to the base of the high tower, deep within the Angel Keep.
A red-pink wooden door appeared in place.
The wooden door slowly opened, and Alexander and Mephiston walked out, followed by several Librarians who still had strength.
"Seth?" A smile appeared on Alexander's lips: "So Dante sent you to follow us?"