"Amon, I understand your concerns."
Caelan said, "If people know nothing about danger, they won't fear it, but they will also fall into pits."
"But the logic of Warp danger is different from real-world danger. Warp danger doesn't originate from the material universe, and the pit isn't in the material universe either."
"It is precisely because people learn about the Warp's dangers that they face the dangers of the Warp."
"The more they know, instead of helping them avoid danger, it plunges them into it."
Unless humanity, like the Aeldari, can protect themselves from Warp dangers, lies are the best protection for mortals.
The core truth of the Imperial Truth is a lie. The universe is irrational, and Gods do exist.
The Emperor tries to protect people with the solid shield of lies and ignorance. This protection can block the washing of the dark tide, but it can never stop the dark tide's attacks.
Under the enemy's heavy blows, the solid shield of the Imperial Truth will also wear down and bend.
History has proven countless times that elastic defense is far superior to passive defense.
Humanity cannot lose the protection of the solid shield, but humanity also needs a sharp sword to counterattack.
The Primarchs and their Legions are that sharp sword. The truth can be spread among them, in a limited way.
But mortals still need the protection of ignorance.
This is compromise.
Caelan said, "The truth cannot be spread, but we can whitewash it with lies."
"The truth of Warp whispers is Chaos's temptation, but we can disguise it as mental illness."
"Psykers possess extraordinary gifts, but therefore they are more prone to mental illness. Such a theory is not difficult for the world to accept."
"As long as we implant the idea that 'mental illness can be cured, but you must have the courage to confess', make people take it for granted, and actively seek help from psychiatrists, we can prevent problems before they occur."
This method cannot guarantee absolute safety.
There is no impregnable defense in the world. They can only try to patch the loopholes in the solid shield of ignorance.
Amon and the other Masters exchanged glances. Though they were somewhat ashamed of deceiving the people with lies,
If Chaos's corruption is so dangerous, perhaps ignorance really is the umbrella for mortals.
Amon asked again: "What about the democratic council? We can disband the Libertines, but we can't stop people from speaking out."
Caelan said, "I have a plan. Tizca's commune democracy has huge flaws. This disaster is proof."
"You can follow the advanced experience of ancient Terra and implement managed democracy."
A flicker of confusion passed through Magnus's eyes. "Father, what is managed democracy?"
"Very simple. You manage, and the people are democratic."
Since the Tizcans believe democracy is the best system in the world, give them democracy!
What the people want is just a channel to voice their opinions. So only give them a voice channel.
People can freely speak, vote, and elect, but the elected democratic council cannot participate in politics, nor will it have any influence on government decisions.
'Isn't that dictatorship?'
Amon wanted to object, but he wisely chose to remain silent.
They had already suffered from democracy. So managed democracy might not be bad.
….....
"We are safe. For now."
Khayon held his sister's hand tightly as they left the shelter. Their city was in ruins. Bodies lay in the streets, not yet collected.
If even the living were about to die, who could care for the dead?
Under the Psychneuein's sharp pincers and claws, the bodies of the dead were often mutilated.
Limb parts were scattered in pools of blood. Even if collected, they couldn't be pieced together into a complete body. The streets were filled with a suffocating stench of blood.
Khayon looked up at the sky. The dark, pressing swarms of Psychneuein had long turned to ash. But the clear blue sky no longer brought a sense of security.
All Tizcans understood: the psychic array was gone.
From now on, they had to face the threat of the Psychneuein directly.
Magnus's timely return to Tizca had saved many people, but tens of thousands still died.
How many would die the next time disaster struck?
The survivors hated those responsible for all this. The Libertines were rats being hunted by everyone.
When the Masters announced that they would try the Libertines and implement ancient Terra's managed democracy to prevent a repeat of the tragedy, no one objected.
Although the people knew little about managed democracy, punishing the traitors was popular sentiment. And in such a time of crisis, people were more conformist than usual.
Khayon didn't understand managed democracy either, but he trusted the wisdom of his elders.
Magnus and Caelan had saved Tizca. So the system they brought couldn't be wrong!
"Brother, Molly is dead." Izara's voice trembled, her eyes filled with sorrow.
Khayon also saw the body. The lively girl, who always wore a ponytail, lay quietly in a pool of blood.
Her body was shattered. Her head and body were scattered within five square meters of each other.
The pretty, cute girl's face still held a terrified expression. Her hollow eyes stared at them.
Khayon remembered Molly visiting last week. The usually lively girl had blushed as she gave him and Izara homemade cookies.
But she was dead now.
She was unlucky. A male Psychneuein had targeted her and torn her apart.
Khayon unconsciously tightened his grip on his sister's hand. He could feel her body trembling.
But at that moment, he felt fortunate. At least Izara was still alive.
"Don't look, Izara," Khayon said softly, reaching out to cover his sister's eyes.
Izara lowered her gaze, biting her lip. "Brother, I want... I want to retrieve Molly's body."
Khayon paused. "Alright. I'll help you."
Whatever his sister wanted, he would give her.
Izara's trembling hands cradled Molly's head. The already dried blood plasma still left glaring blood crusts on her palms.
Izara sobbed, not knowing how to save her.
She couldn't save her either.
The severed limbs were easy to collect, but her blood had long dried. Her internal organs were adhered to the ground like crushed fruit.
They needed a shovel.
Khayon's heart ached. He wanted to go home for tools, but he couldn't bear to leave Izara alone.
As he stood there helpless, his peripheral vision caught sight of Magnus's outsider father.
Khayon hurriedly lowered his head, about to pull his sister into a bow, when he saw Caelan just wave his hand lightly.
The shattered body on the ground automatically reassembled, as if time was reversing. In an instant, it became a complete corpse.
Hope lit up in Izara's eyes. "Big brother, can you bring Molly back to life?"
Caelan slowly shook his head. "Life and death have their own order. No one is exempt."
He seemed to have restored the complete body, but he couldn't completely preserve the lost blood. He just made the body appear complete.
This simple psychic manipulation was not difficult for him.
If she were a Perpetual, even if decapitated, dismembered, or broken down into particles, she would regenerate.
If a Primarch died, their souls would not perish. They might have a chance to return in the future.
But the moment a mortal dies, their soul is annihilated in the waves of the Warp.
Because they are too weak, not even worthy of being divided among demons.
Even in 40K, 'return to the Golden Throne' is just a beautiful blessing.
An Astartes might go to work for the Legion of the Damned after death. But the mortals who can return to the Golden Throne are only those loyal ones who made outstanding contributions.
The number of such loyalists is incalculable, but relative to humanity's vast total population, their proportion is still very small.
But for mortals, being annihilated after death might not be a bad outcome. At least they aren't torn apart by demons.
The secret of Perpetuals might also be inseparable from the Warp. Otherwise, it couldn't explain why their souls also remain intact after death.
Only when humanity truly ascends to become a psychic race will the human soul undergo a qualitative leap, like the Aeldari's.
Then the human soul will become a coveted treat in the Warp. Without a God's protection, humanity's fate will be very tragic.
This again involves Gods.
The more Caelan saw, the more convinced he became that humanity must have its own God.
The Emperor's Primarch Project is a God-making project.
This might be why other Perpetuals abandoned or even opposed him. They all thought he was mad.
Khayon asked, "My lord, did you come for Izara?"
Caelan had saved Izara from the Psychneuein attack earlier. Khayon was far more grateful to him than to the other Masters.
Caelan said, "I came for you."
"Me?" Khayon was stunned. He didn't understand what was so special about him that Caelan would come in person.
"Don't underestimate yourself. You are a man of great fate."
Although Iskandar Khayon of 40K was a villain, he had completely the script of a power fantasy protagonist.
He was the most meritorious veteran of the Black Legion, bar none.
With his ability, he could have started his own faction, but his blind loyalty to Abaddon made him suffer from Abaddon's pitfalls all the way down.
His sister was taken. His daemon wife was stolen. His Aeldari girlfriend died. And he surrendered to the Imperium.
But even after surrendering, the female Inquisitor interrogating him was infatuated with him.
His most famous feat was forcing Magnus the Red to kneel.
His deeds were legendary. He was a darling of fate.
But these things didn't just happen to him. Ahriman and other famous Thousand Sons sorcerers were generally darlings of fate.
Because their gene-father was Tzeentch's Daemon Prince, they naturally belonged to Tzeentch's faction.
Caelan couldn't control what happened in TTG 40K, but now Little Mag was his son. Caelan had to check on Khayon.
Just like Typhon, Caelan thought he was worth cultivating.
No one is born a backstabber. They just lack the right guidance and education.
Except Erebus.
Khayon's expression was blank. What is 'a man of great fate'?
"Khayon, do you want to become strong?"
"Yes!" Khayon's answer was straightforward.
"Tell me your reason for wanting to become strong."
Khayon clenched his fists, his eyes absolutely resolute. "I want to protect Izara! I want to protect everyone in Tizca! I don't want to just watch helplessly when disaster strikes! I don't want to be a powerless waste!"
"Go find Magnus tomorrow. I will teach you together with him."
Izara looked up, her clear eyes meeting his. "Big brother, I want to become strong too! I want to protect my brother, and everyone!"
Izara's stubborn gaze reminded Caelan of Mira. Mira had looked at him with the same eyes, he thought.
Unfortunately, he and Mira had spent only a short time together, six months. She was still underage when he left.
Mira should be a grown woman by now, right?
Claudia probably wouldn't mistreat her. She might even treat her like a daughter.
Angron refused to call her 'mom', but Mira probably had no such psychological burden.
Caelan said, "Becoming strong requires paying a price."
"What kind of price?" Khayon was very nervous. He wasn't worried about himself, but he didn't want his sister to take risks.
Caelan answered, "Facing the danger of knowledge."
The Khayon siblings were bewildered. What kind of price was that?
"If eating shit could make you strong, would you eat it?"
Izara shook her head vigorously like a rattle-drum. Who would eat something like that!
Khayon was silent.
It was like asking: 'Eat a mouthful of shit, and I'll give you ten billion.'
A child might refuse outright. But an adult would probably hesitate, even a billionaire who had already achieved success and fame.
Ten billion is a lot!
If eating shit could make you strong, though it sounded disgusting, the power gained would be real.
Khayon thought this was a test from Caelan. A flicker of struggle passed through his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by determination.
"I'll eat it!"
A trace of helplessness appeared in Caelan's eyes. "Then promise me, don't eat it."
Khayon lowered his head. He seemed to have answered wrong?
Izara asked quietly, "Big brother, to become strong, do you have to eat... that?"
"Becoming strong doesn't necessarily require eating that, but you must face this temptation. Your brother failed to resist it."
Izara blinked. Her brother hadn't resisted the temptation, but she had. Did that mean she was better than her brother?
Caelan noticed the girl's thoughts and shook his head gently. "Let me ask you: if eating chocolate could make you strong, would you eat it?"
"Yes," Izara nodded after a moment's hesitation.
"You're the same as your brother. Because the person trying to trick you into eating shit will package the shit as chocolate."
"The moment you choose to eat for power, you've already lost."
Normal people wouldn't choose between shit-flavored chocolate and chocolate-flavored shit. They choose not to eat.
But Chaos will find ways to make you eat. If you won't, They'll even force-feed you until you vomit.
That is the price that must be paid to become strong: facing the temptation of eating shit.
Because eating shit really does make you strong. Because They really will give you power.
For ten billion, even knowing it's shit, some people will still choose to eat it.
When that lump of shit is packaged as chocolate, no one can resist the temptation.
Even if they're being played, getting a bite of chocolate wouldn't be a loss.
If that chocolate is very precious, it would be a huge win.
By the time they realize they've eaten shit, they're already covered in stench, and it's too late to turn back.
And when they discover they have to pay after eating the shit, their regrets will probably be even deeper.
"If you want to become strong, you must learn one thing: resist the temptation to eat shit."
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu