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Chapter 238: The End? No, This is the Beginning
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 10:40:59 +0000 UTCChapter 238: The End? No, This is the Beginning
The planet was in turmoil. In the newly repaired ruins, a small meeting of three was taking place. After Arthur had reduced the World-Maker to a free-form state, he had informed Romulus and had then come here with the other two. They were listening to Trazyn explain the Necron understanding of the power of the C'tan.
None of them were gods. Their understanding of this universe came from the riddlers at Games Workshop, from the games, and from various author interviews. But in this universe, no one knew more about C'tan shards than Trazyn.
"This is the C'tan in its most primordial form," Ramesses said, curiously playing with the metal that was in a state of disordered flux in the gravity field, wondering what would happen if he stuffed some soul-power into it.
The essence of all C'tan was an unanalyzable cloud of energy. The technology of living metal was originally a gift they had given to the Necrontyr to build them bodies that could move in the material universe. Only by fusing with a metal shell could they move freely. Each C'tan had its own unique authority. The Nightbringer was death. The Void Dragon was the master of the material universe's technology. And the World-Maker itself, just by the precise calculations of its thoughts, could tear a planet apart and reshape it into a more pleasing form.
So after it had gone mad, the World-Maker had actually become one of the weakest, because it could no longer control its own power. It looked very threatening, but in reality, it was just a fool using a gun as a hammer.
"Do we need to put the planets back?" The ground trembled constantly. Arthur could feel the earth beneath his feet slowly drifting from its original orbit. The once-flowing living metal was being drawn from the void, converging like mercury, and then forming into a silver-bright scabbard that neatly sheathed his black sword.
With a single explanation, he understood. As Trazyn continued to explain the basic abilities of the C'tan, he had a rough idea of how to use their power.
And in the Empyrean, Khorne, who was still peering into the material universe, felt an unprecedented pressure. His crimson gaze was forcibly cut off. This region was rejecting his presence, like an invisible barrier walling him off. This made him furiously pound his throne, making the skull decorations rattle.
Arthur glanced at Trazyn. "If you don't care about the original appearance of this planet, then a simple environmental disturbance... the existing planets won't disappear just because the power that bound them is gone. The internal regions will stabilize in a decade or so. For humanity, this kind of cosmic disaster shouldn't be a problem."
Trazyn replied quickly, as if someone had a knife to his neck. Fething hell, you say you're not a C'tan, but you can use the shard the moment you get your hands on it. Where in the galaxy did the Emperor dig up these demigods?
Trazyn quickly constructed a complete logical chain in his mind. [First, the Emperor tricked Arthur into cutting down the other three shards. Then he had Arthur cut himself down. Then, by some unknown method, he gave them consciousness again, and finally, he tricked them into saving humanity.] Yes, it's not the first time he's done something like this. It's just that it's a C'tan this time.
A bitter wave of data flowed through his cranial processors. The memory of those precious collections, jealously guarded by the gods, surfaced in his memory banks. Those beings could have been better preserved and studied in his hands, instead of being gradually annihilated in the selfish squabbles of the gods. It was just a pity that those collections were always being watched by those few gods, and they were so selfish that they wouldn't leave even one for him, even though he would be far more tolerant of those Primarchs than those five ruthless gods.
And with that, Trazyn convinced himself.
"Then let's just leave it as it is. Master Arthur, you just try to speed things up," Ramesses said. He didn't think it was necessary to match Sol. He was going to have the Archmagos move Pierdra over later, and add a planet to mess up this star system's feng shui. Matching the Sol system was not a good thing. From a metaphysical—hmm, from a warp-reflectionist—perspective, it usually didn't end well.
He raised a hand and rubbed his temples. As his research into the warp deepened, he felt a visceral rejection of these metaphysical operations that were so prone to disaster. He knew that in 30k, there was a pocket empire that was identical to the Sol system. It also had an Emperor, sitting on a frozen toilet in a cold, snowy plain, maintaining a precarious human society. Now the Pioneer system had one too. To seal a C'tan that was already half out, and to preserve the last spark of humanity, the Preservers here also had their own cyber-toilet to sit on. And on Terra, as everyone knew, the old man on the Throne had been welded to the Golden Toilet for ten thousand years.
Everyone gets their own toilet.
As a Chinese person would understand it, this was like tattooing an open-eyed Guan Gong on your back in a world where evil spirits were real. If your fate wasn't strong enough, you'd be instantly killed by it.
"Then how do we deal with this shard?" Arthur asked again, his fingers tapping lightly on the newly formed silver-bright scabbard.
Karna had found Trazyn and was trying to get some 21st-century fruit from him. He had always felt that the things he recreated from memory didn't taste right.
"My idea is that Master Arthur should keep it for now. After all, you know a lot of technology, and you can make use of it," Ramesses said, stroking his golden chin thoughtfully. "By the way, help me compress the Blackstone. This stuff is pretty useful."
"I can do that," Arthur nodded, the black sword in its sheath vibrating slightly. He had to lead the Dark Angels anyway, so he had to learn this physical knowledge. Otherwise, he wouldn't even be able to understand the Ironwing's reports. And the current C'tan shard, with no subjective consciousness, was basically a public water faucet that would gush water with a single twist. It all depended on the user. If it fell into the hands of those fanatics, it would be the next mad C'tan.
But just giving the C'tan shard to Master Arthur was a bit of a waste. After all, the real privilege of a C'tan was to arbitrarily amend the laws of physics. But Ramesses didn't want to interfere with Arthur's mindset. If he accidentally messed up his ability to subjectively interfere with reality, he would really cry. For now, this was fine. If worse came to worse, they could build an artificial C'tan in the future, like a World Engine.
Ramesses thought. After all, they didn't need to spend their energy to restrain a C'tan shard like the Necrons did. The technical difficulty should be much lower.
"Let's go, let's go! Let's get back to the nest!" Ramesses said, flipping his golden cloak and taking the first step. After thinking it through and confirming that the shard was not a risk, Ramesses simply called for everyone to leave and head for Trazyn's vehicle. The planets of the Pioneer system were now uninhabitable, but fortunately, the Human Federation's mobile cities were themselves small ecosystems. With the Imperium's collector ships providing the necessary raw materials, it was no problem for them to float in outer space for a few decades.
"I'll drive," Trazyn said, seeing he had a role to play. He jogged to the cockpit, fully demonstrating what a person who truly wanted to make progress was like. The lords didn't dislike him. This was a great thing. And don't laugh at his fawning attitude. The temptation of bio-transference and a soul-bearing consciousness was too great. It was really tempting.
The entire star system was shaking violently. With the C'tan's control gone, gravity once again became the master. The planets' orbits were slowly correcting themselves in the chaos, and the uncontrolled energy storms were still raging, meteors and debris sweeping through the void like a torrential rain. The void shields of the picket fleet flickered constantly, each impact of debris creating a fine ripple on the shield's barrier.
However, no one was afraid. Especially the Dawnbreakers, who were invigorated by it.
The picket fleet orderly adjusted its position in deep space. When a void shield was about to reach its limit, another warship would take its place, escorting the main force to the outer edge of the star system. The Blackstone ruin became the only anchor in this turbulent universe. Ramesses re-calibrated the polarity-Blackstone, stitching together the rift that was boiling with crimson rage, inch by inch.
Khorne's gaze lingered, but it finally dissipated before the barrier of reality, leaving only a resentful roar to echo in the depths of the warp.
"He's been driven away?" Karna was stunned. He felt the last remaining threat recede, and his entire body relaxed. The god of war, who had swept through thousands of troops, had once again become a peaceful statue. He rubbed his back shoulder. It felt very sore.
The series of events had been like buckets of cold water, constantly cooling his ambitious heart and making him doubt himself. No matter where he went, misfortune followed. Every time he saw hope, he would see a heavier suffering descend.
"What are you thinking about?" Arthur asked, seeing that Karna was not getting on the ship.
"Nothing. Just a little confused," Karna said, letting go of his hands. The tangled and contradictory rage quickly dissipated. He stepped onto the ship. As the entire fuselage became transparent, the entire planet was laid bare before his eyes. "They will come again."
"Are you afraid?"
"No!" Karna shook his head. "I just... sometimes I don't know what to do. This kind of power is not something ordinary people can handle."
Chaos was another world, a being that unilaterally drew nourishment from reality. And the struggle they had now initiated, it was a chasm that no amount of thought could bridge. And the most fatal thing was, whether they came or not, whether they fought or not, was not something that humanity today could decide.
"But now," the vehicle quickly ascended. Trazyn was playing the role of a very considerate pilot. Karna's tone grew heavier. "I will not stop my steps. I will wait for them to judge me!"
The existence of the Pioneer system, the Lamenters who had moved him so much during the Tyrannic War, all told him that the beauty of humanity in this universe had never been extinguished. They did not need the Dawnbreakers to fill in the colors, did not need the Dawnbreakers to do everything for them. They just needed help.
In this story that was doomed to be a tragedy from the start, not a single person had ever hesitated or wavered. They were like this, and so were we.
"And now, what we see is not a barren wasteland," Karna promised his companions, and himself, in the newborn star system. "I will continue to move forward, until I am ground to dust."
"Mm," Arthur nodded, then turned. "Let's go."
The victors returned. Their figures emerged from the shattered star-field, dragging a trail of not-yet-dissipated energy in their wake, like the dawn piercing the eternal night. Hope and the future, now made manifest, descended with their steps.
The Preservers, who had been watching the battle, also breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for your help, my kinsmen," they said, completely won over. The scene before them was more effective than a million theories. They had won. What was there to say?
Using the observation instruments on the warship to look into deep space, they looked at the star system, which was now drifting further and further away from the likeness of Sol. As if having let go of something, the entire machine's computational frequency dropped. "Finally, it's over."
"Over?" Romulus looked around. His companions hadn't arrived yet. He could only force a reserved smile. "This is just the beginning. It proves that we have the potential to pry loose the underlying logic of this universe."
"Just the beginning?"
"Yes," he nodded. "In the future, more and more humans will join our domain. How the teams should be run, how productivity should be distributed, how to defeat the enemies that surround humanity, how to safely let people know the truth of this universe, and how to govern a nation that belongs to humanity..."
In the Dawnlight Sector alone, countless people were still living in misery. They had only just taken down a single C'tan shard. There was still so much to do. Clean up the entire sector, deal with the threats from within and without the Imperium, fight with Chaos, and to reduce the risk on the Ynnead side, they also needed to seek the power of the Death God to resurrect the weightlifting champion, Guilliman...
One step at a time. First, from liberating this civilization, then the Dawnlight Sector, and then the Segmentum Obscurus, which was plagued by Chaos. And in the end, they would solve everything.
Romulus seemed to have endless things to say. The more he spoke, the more seriously the Preservers listened. In fact, after repeated setbacks, they already had the answers to many of their questions. This universe was full of malice, and would equally drag every race into the abyss.
But at this moment, a fire called ambition was stirring. Why must we live in the abyss? Why must we accept this desperate answer? This world should not be like this!
"Can we join you?" they asked.
"Of course," the three had, at some point, come to Romulus's side. Arthur stood with his arms crossed, half his body hidden in his dark cloak, the scabbard of his sword gleaming. Ramesses held the polarity-Blackstone, which he had compressed into a set of scales with his psychic power, in one hand, a low laugh coming from under his golden mask.
The last one, Karna, took a half-step forward, the energy lines on his battle-plate not yet fully extinguished. He extended a hand to the Preservers.
"We welcome you," they said.
"Beautiful~" a certain collector recorded this moment, his fingertips tracing the floating image. He was filled with regret, and also relief. A complex emotion welled up in his computational hub. History had, in this moment, undergone a subtle change.
Now, he wouldn't be able to see Hope's End.
