"Pfft, ah, ha ha ha!"
Sanguinius didn't laugh very loudly, but Magnus had cleared the top deck of Tizca's Revenge to leave the battlefield to him and himself. In the spacious and quiet environment, even his not-so-loud laughter was particularly noticeable.
The Archangel watched Magnus, a smile playing on his lips.
He thought that if Alexander were here, he would surely crack jokes like Leman Russ giving Magnus a back rub, making Magnus so angry he'd look like an Ogryn who couldn't count.
But Sanguinius himself merely showed a slightly curious expression, asking in a gentle tone, like someone advising a friend who had fallen into a pyramid scheme:
"How do you think you're the strongest of the Primarchs? What did the Lord of Change tell you?"
"He told me personally, on the eve of Prospero's destruction, in the mirrored reflection."
Magnus was annoyed by Sanguinius' laughter, but still tried to maintain the coldness in his tone.
Even after ten thousand years, he still preferred to use language and knowledge to demonstrate his wisdom.
So he said:
"The Lord of Change once personally declared to me: Horus was merely an alternative, an inferior, unqualified option."
"I was the chosen one, the first choice to bring about an end and death, the first choice to initiate the cycle of creation and annihilation."
"He saw immense potential in us. The reason he chose Horus was simply because I was already too powerful at the time, and they couldn't convert me."
Magnus raised his head, declaring:
"But the Lord of Change promised that one day I would belong to their collective — what are you laughing at?!"
Magnus looked at Sanguinius before him, his single eye glaring furiously.
The smile on Sanguinius' lips was almost impossible to suppress; he seemed to be struggling to hold it in, not to laugh out loud.
"Oh, so they said such things to you too," Sanguinius said, smiling at Magnus.
"Too?" Magnus froze, bewildered, blinking his single eye blankly: "They?"
"Only the Lord of Change spoke to you about this?"
Sanguinius seemed surprised:
"Did the plague God, the Blood God, and the Dark Prince not participate? And you actually believed it?"
"You know our father's words can't be trusted, yet you believe the Lord of Change, who is ranked among the galaxy's five greatest liars alongside him!"
Looking at the somewhat dazed Magnus, Sanguinius hesitated.
He had heard a phrase from Alexander used to mock someone's intelligence, but its aggressiveness was too strong.
"Do you buy health products?" Sanguinius still said earnestly: "Do you believe in the Imperial Truth?"
"I *Prospero expletive* you!"
Magnus cursed angrily.
The Tzeentchian witchfire on the blade in his hand blazed fiercely, and a short incantation escaped Magnus' lips. Time instantly surged around him.
Almost in the blink of an eye, Magnus was before Sanguinius, his blade slashing horizontally at Sanguinius.
But Sanguinius' speed was so fast that it seemed he too had accelerated time; the effects of both the High-Efficiency Pills and the Acceleration Gear items came into play.
The Spear of Accomplishment and Magnus' blade clashed on the Tizca Pyramid.
Colorful lightning balls emerged from the surrounding Warp currents, forming chains that struck Sanguinius.
But Sanguinius merely vibrated his wings, suppressing the surrounding Warp, as if he were a beacon of order, and even the wildest currents had to calm down around him.
The two abruptly separated after a brief collision; both had already understood each other's state.
Magnus' eyes were wide with rage, his crimson hair blazing like fire, his gold and silver interwoven armor shining as if newly forged, and ætheric currents surged from every piece of his flesh.
But he finally raged and laughed.
"That scar is still there, the one Horus left when he tore your flesh, the proof of your failure. The power of the gods is in that scar, burned into your very existence, transcending time and space."
"You won't last long; that wound is still harming your body, and it will expand if you relax even slightly!"
"Indeed, Horus did leave me a deep wound."
Sanguinius' voice was calm and elegant, almost sweet:
"But who gave you the confidence to think that I couldn't sever your head before I give out?"
"Brother, do you think you're Horus?"
Magnus let out a savage growl; raging flames and thunder shattered the entire top deck of the Tizca Pyramid.
The two Primarchs clashed again, and the light of sorcery and sacred golden radiance illuminated the entire Warp.
Seven Lords of Change and the Tzeentchian Chief Greater Daemon Kairos stood on the fragments of the Webway. Their bird-like whispers continuously struck the currents in the Warp, summoning spells that slammed into the line formed by Guilliman, Mephiston, and Reyna.
Meanwhile, Alexander, with the Greater Daemon and a host of Astartes, clashed with Ahriman's Rogues.
Honestly, Alexander was a bit confused as to why it should be Guilliman and Kairos fighting.
After all, in official history, Guilliman actually fell under a carefully prepared spell by Kairos.
Kairos used that spell to awaken the negative and dark emotions that Guilliman had continuously accumulated in his heart since his return. That fatigue, pain, and struggle all transformed into chains that bound Guilliman.
In a direct confrontation, Guilliman would never have lost to Kairos, but it was never Kairos who truly brought Guilliman down in official history, but rather the dark and broken state of the Imperium and the suffering endured by humanity.
According to the initial plan, it should have been Sanguinius against Magnus, Alexander against Kairos, and Guilliman against Ahriman.
But this plan was rejected by the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine.
The plan deemed the optimal solution by the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine had Alexander dealing with Ahriman and Guilliman dealing with Kairos.
Fortunately, the two sides were not far apart, so if any problems truly arose, Alexander could quickly provide support.
Alexander calmed himself, focusing on the Tzeentchian chosen, Ahriman, before him.
Ahriman was surrounded by Thousand Sons, protecting himself with several thick Psyker barriers, constantly unleashing spells from afar to deplete Alexander's side's strength, taking a stance of never leaving his Psyker barriers and preparing for a long battle with Alexander.
Alexander stroked his chin. The Greater Daemon beside him, wearing a Superpower Hat, flickered, grabbing a Thousand Son from the battlefield.
Before Ahriman could react, the Greater Daemon teleported back to Alexander's side, bringing the Thousand Sons in his hand close to Alexander.
Alexander grinned, and the power of death, obtained by devouring Ynnead, began to brew in his hand. That great power, capable of reversing life and death, immediately surged into the Thousand Son body…
"Where is this? Why am I here?"
"Who are you? Is that Ahriman over there?"
"Master Ahriman! What's going on?! How is the battle on Terra? Are the Primarchs all right?!"
Ahriman watched the scene before him, his tongue tied, as he saw the Thousand Sons warrior clutched in the Greater Daemon's hand.
He recognized that warrior; even after ten thousand years, Ahriman still recognized him, even though the warrior had not been particularly important in the Thousand Sons Legion.
That Thousand Sons warrior was a student Ahriman had taught ten thousand years ago when he was a lecturer at the Black Crow School's sanctum. His talent wasn't outstanding, nor was his mind quick, but he was obedient and diligent.
"Master Ahriman, what should I do?!"
"Have I been captured by the enemy?! Please, do not hesitate on my account!"
"Are these… Ultramarines and Blood Angels? Is the Emperor still hunting us?!"
The warrior's voice was filled with despair. He tilted his head, looking at Ahriman with pleading eyes through his power armor.
He wasn't begging Ahriman to save him, but to guide him on what to do.
Ahriman felt dizzy. He slightly raised the staff in his hand, wanting to point it at the Death God who had resurrected the Thousand Son, but he couldn't lift it any further.
"Surrender, Ahriman. I will help you redeem your mistake."
Alexander's lips curved into a slight smile as he watched the trembling Ahriman with interest.
The chosen of the Four Gods could probably be divided into two tiers.
The lower tier included Typhus and Lucius; their strength was average, but they were shameless.
The higher tier included Khârn and Ahriman; their strength was immense, but their weakness lay in their psychological flaws.
Khârn's flaws stemmed from Angron's death and his hatred for Erebus.
Ahriman's flaw was that he had single-handedly sent his entire Legion to its demise with one red word, becoming the 'King of Heads' of the Imperium of Man's thirtieth millennium.
Alexander narrowed his eyes, observing Ahriman.
Ahriman gasped for two ragged breaths. His hands trembled, and sadness, excitement, and doubt surged within him simultaneously.
He realized almost instantly that if he could truly resurrect his brothers, surrendering to this individual might not be unacceptable.
Ahriman, Magnus, and Abaddon were not a unified front, and he had no interest in persecuting the Imperium of Man.
As long as he could resurrect his former brothers, allowing all Thousand Sons to once again walk the streets of Prospero, freely, enlightened, and courteously exchanging knowledge, and jointly researching the ancient wisdom scattered in the archives, he would do anything.
Although Ahriman yearned to return to a land similar to Prospero to plant grapes once that day arrived, if he could resurrect his other brothers, then offering his loyalty would be entirely worth it.
"After you surrender to me, I can let you go to Baal to plant grapes and make wine," Alexander said with a smile, as if he had seen through Ahriman's thoughts.
Of course, it was impossible for Ahriman to slack off. If Ahriman truly surrendered, Alexander would indeed send him to Baal, but it would be to work hard alongside Dante. The Imperium's dark side was in need of manpower.
Letting you plant grapes and make wine doesn't mean you won't be working overtime.
However, Alexander didn't hold out too much hope, as Ahriman's thoughts were not entirely his own.
Hearing that he could even go to Baal to plant grapes and make wine after joining, Ahriman became even more tempted.
He had only come here to resurrect the red word. Capturing this Death God and extracting his power to resurrect them, or surrendering to him and asking him to resurrect the red word—
It seemed the latter had a higher success rate and lower risk, didn't it?
Although this Death God was a bit beastly and malicious in personality…
Caw, caw, caw—
Just as Ahriman was about to pledge his loyalty to Alexander, a barely perceptible, sharp bird cry brushed past his ears, indistinct yet present.
The slight doubt that already existed in his heart suddenly magnified, expanding like a tearing crack. Suspicion, distrust, and lack of faith poured out of that rift, subtly twisting Ahriman's will.
He remembered that Yvraine had used similar deceitful words on him before, and Yvraine was a chosen of this Death God.
Centered on this memory, the doubt quickly expanded to the point of overwhelming reason.
"My Lord! No! How can you trust the words of a god?!"
"That's right! My Lord! Have you forgotten how we were toyed with by the gods last time?!"
"While he is currently confined in this fragile material body, seize him! We can study how to extract his power."
The eight sorcerers also simultaneously urged Ahriman, their voices seemingly mixed with some bird cries.
Ahriman's expression momentarily wavered.
"I refuse," Ahriman said to Alexander in a hoarse voice. "I prefer to extract your power for my own use."
But to Ahriman's surprise, Alexander's gaze towards him held no anger at being rejected; instead, it was filled with deep pity.
He seemed to be looking at a puppet dancing to a shadow.
"Is that what you think, or what Tzeentch wants you to think?" Alexander asked softly.
"Do you think I'm like those idiots—like Abaddon, Fabius, and those fools? Unable to see how fallen they are, unable to see the tide of Chaos spreading beneath their feet, and that they have already become puppets of the gods?"
Ahriman gnashed his teeth and retorted sharply:
"I have never succumbed to the Lord of Change's schemes, I have never become His puppet, I am not His pawn, I have not yielded to His will!"
"That's good," Alexander nodded lightly, his gaze towards Ahriman growing even more pitiful.
Tzeentch indeed often allowed Ahriman to act freely, but this did not mean Ahriman had truly escaped Tzeentch's influence.
His will, his freedom, his actions were always under Tzeentch's control. To make Ahriman surrender to Alexander, one would first have to cut off Tzeentch's influence over him.
However, on the current battlefield, that opportunity might not arise.
"That is truly regrettable," Alexander sighed.
The Greater Daemon standing beside him casually tossed the newly resurrected Thousand Sons warrior into the Warp torrent nearby.
"Go save him," Alexander said, pointing at the Warp.
Ahriman froze.
"You!!! You *Prospero curse words*! You *Space Wolves-bred*!"
Ahriman roared, then without hesitation, he quickly flew out of the Psyker barrier on his disc, rushing recklessly towards the Thousand Sons warrior caught in the Warp torrent.
"Fire!" Alexander grinned, shouting at the Astartes beside him.
His own Overlord's Spear was also aimed directly at Ahriman.
"Oh, most foolish child of the Emperor!"
"Oh, most astute child of the Emperor!"
"I am the mouthpiece of Tzeentch, the Lord of Change! I am the Lord of Fate, Kairos Fateweaver, the daemon Prince who beholds both future and past!"
"I bring you the enlightenment of the Lord of Change!" "I bring you the schemes of the Lord of Change!"
"You shall submit to the grand design of the Lord of Change!" "You shall face the most tragic death!"
Sharp cackling laughter emanated from the mouth of the blue monster with two bird heads. The words spoken by its two heads contradicted and clashed with each other, as if it were debating with itself.
The Greater Daemon flapped its wings, a chaotic mix of blue, purple, and ninety-nine other colors, stirring the surrounding aetheric currents, making the air around them feel heavy.
Seven other Lords of Change stood behind the Lord of Fate, Kairos Fateweaver, continuously assailing Guilliman, Mephiston, and Reyna, who stood before them, with blasphemous, vile mockery and lies.
Tzeentch's Chief Greater Daemon suddenly swung the Staff of Tomorrow in its hand, and a swirling tide of azure witchfire surged towards the three like a torrent.
But Mephiston, using his Psyker powers, ignited the strength within the cells of his flesh. He collided with the witchfire tide like a hazy afterimage, his potent, shadowy Psyker energy twisting and writhing, forming a solid barrier that withstood the blasphemous sorcery.
Reyna, on the other hand, was almost crudely direct. Wearing a Portable Pyramid on her head, she unleashed her full Psyker potential. Nearly inhuman screams, mixed with uncontrolled Psyker power, erupted from her mouth. She violently raised her hand, stirring the tides of the Warp, and clusters of Empyrean energy transformed into fiery meteors, smashing towards the Lord of Fate, Kairos Fateweaver.
Kairos had raised his staff the moment before Reyna channeled the Empyrean energy. Instantly, the barrage of fiery meteors exploded like fireworks in mid-air.
Then, one of Kairos' heads saw the future, seeing what Reyna was using.
"Stay where you are!!!!" Reyna's roar suddenly erupted, and intense Psyker fluctuations condensed into her words, shooting towards the Lord of Fate, Kairos Fateweaver.
But Kairos had already prepared countermeasures for the Seducer's Whisper. He wove a spell from a bit of blasphemous, vile knowledge, embedding it in his consciousness. It could act as a wall to resist Reyna's consciousness, and also turn to corrupt Reyna—
"Gah!!!" Both of Kairos' heads simultaneously felt a dizzy spell.
Is this really Seducer's Whisper?? Is this truly Seducer's Whisper???
For a moment, Kairos even suspected his precognition was wrong.
Seducer's Whisper involves subtly enveloping one's will with weaker Psyker energy, silently infiltrating another's mind to interfere with their actions.
He had specifically designed his defense against the Seducer's Whisper, intending to use knowledge to combat consciousness and seize the opportunity to backlash against Reyna.
But Reyna's attack couldn't even be called a Seducer's Whisper!
What kind of Seducer's Whisper is so crude and ugly, enveloping so much Psyker energy that it can't silently infiltrate someone's mind?!
Isn't this just like simply hitting someone on the back of the head with a Psyker bludgeon?!
"By the ass of the Lord of Change! Did you even study Psyker knowledge properly!?"
"Are you just going to waste the Empyrean' blessings like this?! You are not allowed to call yourself an psyker!"
As a Great Sorcerer, Kairos truly couldn't stand such an inept psyker, and both of his heads simultaneously cursed loudly.
"What kind of trash are you! Is this how you use your psyker powers?"
"You are blaspheming the gifts of the Empyrean! Can't you just study properly?"
Kairos' two beaked heads cursed at Reyna, their wills clashing on the psyker plane.
Reyna's psyker power was insufficient to shatter Kairos' will, but Kairos also found that no matter how much blasphemous knowledge he tried to force into her, it was like a stone sinking into the sea.
Kairos was shocked.
Humans, or rather, all intelligent life forms, theoretically possess the ability or instinct to learn. This is an inevitable result of biological evolution.
Anyone confronted with knowledge flooding into their consciousness cannot completely ignore it. Even a glimpse will instinctively lead to understanding and learning its content. Once started, they would fall into the vortex of knowledge woven by Tzeentch's magic, sinking into an endless desire for learning.
But Reyna was like she had no instinct to learn, like a black hole for knowledge, barely even having a desire to learn.
Kairos had heard some information about her from other Tzeentch daemons who had tried to corrupt Reyna, but he hadn't expected it to be so outrageous.
He couldn't help but begin to infiltrate his consciousness into Reyna's mind, starting to probe the scattered memories on the periphery.
"Why is three times three thirteen?! Three times three is nine! Three times three is nine!"
"Why is twenty-seven divided by three also thirteen! Nine! Three nines are twenty-seven!"
"Why is your test score thirteen again! Reyna, you, you child..."
Kairos watched dumbfounded as Reyna's memories showed her learning mathematics with the Ashford Tzeentch cultist Namakor. The numbers contained the corruption of the Lord of Change. A normal child would be subtly corrupted after only one to two months of study.
But Reyna's learning speed was too slow, so slow that the accumulation of corruption was very gradual, and Reyna's family...
"It's alright, child. As long as you faithfully believe in the Emperor and have a heart dedicated to the Emperor and humanity, whether your academic performance is good or bad doesn't matter."
"After all, no matter if a person is rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, noble or humble, intelligent or foolish, the Emperor has a plan for them."
Reyna's mother said gently, then took Reyna to the church to pray.
Each time the corruption brought by mathematics had barely taken effect, Reyna would go to the church of the Emperor and Sanguinius, and that slight corruption would be cleansed during prayer.
After years of this repeated cycle, Reyna's neural pathways, stimulated by the repeated corruption of knowledge and purification by the church, developed and mutated a resistance to corruption and knowledge, especially to Tzeentch's corruption.
Knowledge and corruption simply slid off her brain as if it were greased.
"You're mentally disabled!"
"You're a complete idiot!"
Facing this despair-inducing brain, Kairos' two heads cursed simultaneously.
Tzeentch daemons all possess an instinct, which is determined by the domain occupied by the Lord of Change.
The hellish storm in the northeast of the Eight-Pointed Star of Chaos, this domain symbolizes the primordial turmoil of the Warp, the mighty power of the Empyrean manifested as pure elemental force. For Tzeentch daemons, there is no higher goal than to spread and unleash this power.
But Kairos now encountered a wall of sighs in spreading the mighty power of Tzeentch's domain. He instinctively felt extreme anger.
Reyna's expression stiffened slightly. Kairos' intense anger pierced into Reyna's mind through their constantly colliding consciousness and psyker powers, causing Reyna a splitting headache.
"Don't be influenced by him, he is Kairos, and his two heads only speak lies." Mephiston shouted to Reyna while fending off the sorcery cast by Kairos and the other seven Lords of Change.
"You're full of lies, Mephiston!" Kairos' two heads retorted simultaneously: "One of my heads lies, and one speaks the truth."
"And everything I'm saying now is true!"
"That Reyna, listen to me! The mighty power of the Empyrean is utterly wasted on you!"
Kairos cursed and grumbled, then suddenly realized he seemed to have forgotten something.
Screech!!!
The Emperor's Sword, burning with scorching flames, descended from behind Kairos, its searing blade striking directly at Kairos' back.
The scorching golden flames, imbued with the Emperor's psyker power, raged. Kairos dodged in terror.
A hideous, terrifying, flame-scorched wound appeared on Kairos' back, and purplish-red interwoven aether diffused into the air.
"Gah gah gah gah!!!!" Kairos let out a low wail.
"How wonderful. I'm becoming more and more envious of Corax and Konrad Curze's abilities." Guilliman, wearing the Blind Spot Star, couldn't help but exclaim.
Kairos roared, using his prophetic abilities to quickly locate Guilliman, then turned and unleashed a barrage of sorcerous flames.
Guilliman's eyes merely narrowed slightly. The Superpower Hat on his head pointed its mechanical finger at Kairos.
Powerful telekinesis surged like a tide, colliding with Kairos' sorcerous flames. The two forces intertwined, evenly matched for a moment.
The Superpower Hat, Blind Spot Star, Mephiston, and Reyna's cooperation were all to compensate for Guilliman's lack of psyker abilities.
Kairos brandished the Staff of Tomorrow in his hand, and the other seven Greater daemons simultaneously unleashed a surging tide of sorcerous fire towards Guilliman, who was surrounded by them.
But the mechanical hand on Guilliman's head clenched suddenly, and Guilliman's figure flickered, instantly vanishing from his spot and reappearing beside Mephiston and Reyna.
Kairos' two heads both contorted in distorted expressions. He knew the effect of that item on Guilliman's head.
So he had prepared a spell in advance to lock down space, but Guilliman's instantaneous movement seemed to neither rely on the power of the Empyrean nor jump through dimensions. It was simply an inexplicable instantaneous movement.
This is not the Empyrean at all!
Kairos gasped for breath. Even without using his prophetic abilities, he knew that he absolutely had no chance of defeating Guilliman. As for his seven Greater daemons, it would be difficult for them to defeat Mephiston and that mentally disabled psyker.
Although that fellow had an intellectual problem, her psyker talent was indeed very strong, a complete waste of the Empyrean' grace.
And Mephiston... even Kairos himself would have to take him seriously to ensure victory.
His four eyes narrowed slightly. He shielded the seven Lords of Change in front of him, then raised the Staff of Tomorrow high in his hand and softly chanted a powerful incantation.
Mephiston attacked first. Vast psyker power surged through his body. His figure twisted like a reflection in water, then in the blink of an eye, he transformed into three versions of himself.
He used his powerful psyker abilities to summon his past selves from thirty minutes and an hour ago to the present. For half an hour, they would possess all the abilities that Mephiston currently had.
The three Mephistons brandished their silver-steel greatswords, simultaneously twisting time, and arrived before three Lords of Change almost in the blink of an eye.
Reyna, meanwhile, directly pulled out a highly efficient pill from her pocket and swallowed it, further boosting her psyker output efficiency.
Intense psyker power surged from her body almost uncontrollably. Every fiber and strand of her flesh and blood, from every quark that formed matter, was immersed in the Warp. Reyna almost transformed into a distorted humanoid composed of psyker power.
Then Reyna pulled out the Superman Gloves, which could amplify a person's strength, and put them on her hands, which were almost devoid of material form.
She took a deep breath, and space let out a mournful cry. Reyna slammed into two Lords of Change like a cannonball.
Before the two Lords of Change could react, fists imbued with powerful psyker power smashed violently onto their beaked heads.
And Guilliman, wielding the fiercely burning Emperor's Sword, with the Superpower Hat on his head, strode towards the two remaining Lords of Change and the Lord of Fate, Kairos Fateweaver, whom they were guarding.
The seven Lords of Change cried out in misery. They were just ordinary Greater daemons. Not to mention a Primarch, even against Mephiston, they would only be fit for fleeing.
But the damned Kairos had restrained them with a spell, forcing them to act as his meat shields. At the same time, Kairos was also drawing power from all seven of them, combining it with his own to weave a twisted spell, further weakening their already insufficient strength.
But Kairos didn't care about their lives or deaths, forcefully ordering them to charge forward and engage in combat with the three.
Kairos, meanwhile, held high the Staff of Tomorrow, chanting a low, twisted, and blasphemous incantation. Combined with the power drawn from the other Lords of Change, he wove eight powerful spells.
The sound woven by these incantations was so immense that it momentarily overwhelmed the clamor of the battlefield.
Kairos silently began to touch the negative emotions hidden deep within Roboute Guilliman's heart.
That anger, that guilt, that sorrow, that disgust, that pain all began to become vivid in Kairos' eyes.
"We won!" Kairos' two beaked heads simultaneously whispered.
As Kairos' two heads let out sharp, low growls, the Kairos' Book of Fate, which recorded the strange visions he obtained from the Well of Eternity, burst open from the Staff of Tomorrow in his hand.
In an instant, those sharp runes, like chains, stabbed towards Guilliman, who was on the verge of defeating the two Tzeentch Great Unclean Ones.
Guilliman dodged, but his heart tightened, and his steps became erratic, as if something hidden deep within him was about to emerge.
Kairos slammed the Staff of Tomorrow onto the ground, and seven Lords of Change let out sharp wails. The blasphemous energy that constituted their existence was continuously drawn into the spell Kairos was weaving.
Almost nothing in the mortal realm could defeat a Primarch, unless it was another Primarch or the Primarch himself.
So Kairos never expected to defeat Guilliman head-on; he wanted to induce Guilliman to defeat himself.
Kairos used all his wisdom to weave this blasphemous spell, to stimulate the negative emotions hidden within Guilliman.
Roboute Guilliman's body seemed to have all its strength drained, and he knelt on the ground on one knee.
Chain-like runes pierced into his chest, and twisting demonic shadows danced on his body. All types of negative emotions—fatigue, guilt, anger, sorrow, wailing, pain—transformed into twisting, translucent tendrils that extended from Guilliman's body, wrapping around his form layer by layer, like an ethereal crystal cage trapping him in place.
In just a few moments, Kairos' spell had taken shape. His two heads laughed wildly, looking down at the struggling, pained Roboute Guilliman.
He couldn't wait to hear Roboute Guilliman's wails of agony.
This was a fated moment! This future had already been written in Kairos' Book of Fate on the Staff of Tomorrow!
"Oh—————"
A heavy sigh escaped Roboute Guilliman's lips.
Kairos' two heads blinked simultaneously. How was this different from the prophecy?
Was that a wail of pain? Why did it sound more like a tired sigh from an ox after a long day of overtime?
Guilliman, with his negative emotions activated, didn't look very pained. His golden hair was streaked with white from overwork, his face bore the marks of exhaustion, his skin was wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and his dark circles were clear and prominent.
This made him look less like a Primarch and more like a poor Adeptus Administratum official who hadn't had a day off for half his life.
"Why?"
Kairos touched the negative emotions on Guilliman's body.
"Why do you insist on the Codex Astartes for ten thousand years?"
"Why make me work overtime? Why do I have to handle all the political affairs by myself?"
"Why does this high-efficiency pill only increase work efficiency but not eliminate fatigue?"
"Why are there so many documents every day? Why can Sanguinius fight on the front lines?"
"Why wake me up? You woke me up just to make me work overtime, right?"
"Why did you tear up my Imperial Codex?"
"Sanguinius and Alexander, you two came to Ultramar just to make me work overtime alone, right?"
Under the influence of Kairos' spell, the intense negative emotions and resentment almost materialized, clawing and gnashing on Guilliman's body.
Accidentally, Kairos got a bit of it on him, and a memory of Guilliman instantly flashed before his eyes.
"..Can I tell a joke?" Kairos saw Alexander suddenly smile and ask Guilliman in the command room on Macragge.
Guilliman, his face full of fatigue, looked up, seemingly knowing he couldn't stop Alexander, and only weakly protested: "Preferably nothing to do with me."
"Alright, the Siege of Terra," Alexander nodded and said.
Guilliman instantly understood the punchline of the joke, and his expression immediately stiffened.
But Alexander still eagerly explained to Guilliman:
"The funny part of this joke is: it has absolutely nothing to do with you."
Intense negative emotions surged from this memory.
Kairos was a bit bewildered.
This... this isn't right, is it?
What about the promised hatred and anger towards the current state of the Imperium, the guilt and self-reproach for his dereliction of duty, the fear and despair of a dark future—those darker, more dangerous, more sinister emotions?
These emotions weren't absent, but they were very few. Most of them were like what Kairos had just seen, trivial negative emotions that caused no real pain.
These emotions were not enough to break Guilliman's mental defenses, which were built on reason and self-discipline. At most, they could only suppress Guilliman's rationality—————
Eh?!
Kairos' two heads suddenly froze in place.
One of his heads saw the past, saw Guilliman prostrate on the ground.
His other head saw the future, saw Guilliman stepping on one of his heads, with the Emperor's Sword held against his other head.
Kairos tilted his head in confusion.
An enraged roar erupted.
Roboute Guilliman suddenly rose. His eyes showed none of his usual rationality and seriousness; those rational parts were suppressed by the negative emotions Kairos had summoned.
At the same time, among those summoned negative emotions were Guilliman's disgust for political affairs, his longing for the battlefield, his hatred for overtime... All these emotions ultimately transformed into a need for released anger.
At this moment, Guilliman's heart held no reason, only anger, anger, and more anger.
"Kairos!!!"
A beast-like roar echoed across the entire battlefield. Roboute Guilliman's flesh and blood body seemed to be burning, not like a human of the material universe, but rather like a blue and gold interwoven storm.
"I am Roboute Guilliman! I am the Son of Vengeance! I am the Son of War! I am the Lord of Ultramar!"
"I once magnanimously allowed everything in the world to integrate into my order, to become my subjects, to forever bask in the fiery dawn of reason and light. Everything should have been so!!!"
"But you, you rejected this order, resisted this future, and harmed my people. Then all I have left for you is fire, war, and vengeance!"
"Face me!!! Hound of the Lord of Change!!! Hound of Chaos!!!"
Kairos was terrified and turned to flee almost without hesitation.
But Guilliman's roar was so deafening that it even made Kairos' body, composed of the power of the Empyrean, go limp.
The intense roar even stirred ripples in the Warp.
Seated on the Brass Throne, the Blood God Khorne was simultaneously trying to direct the fires of war towards Terra and contending with the cold sun suspended in the Warp.
But upon hearing that roar, Khorne was still drawn by the anger and involuntarily cast a momentary glance.
Though only for an instant, the fury on the battlefield seemed to burn even more intensely.
Kairos had no time to react to what had happened.
He only saw the roaring blue and gold storm engulf him.
Then the head responsible for seeing the past was heavily stomped on the ground by the large foot of the Fate Armor, and the other head was gripped by the throat by the Gauntlet of Ultramar, with the burning Emperor's Sword pressed against it.
"My Lord!!!" Kairos' two heads wailed simultaneously: "Save me!!!"
"Roar!!!"
Magnus let out a low growl. He tumbled down the side of the Great Pyramid of Tizca, his armor shattered all over.
Sanguinius pursued him like a burning sun, his pure white wings gently quivering, generating thrust that propelled him to an incredible speed.
Magnus hurriedly swung the silver blade in his hand, sweeping across the surrounding golden pyramid walls.
The walls, made of silver and gold, rippled like water. They began to disintegrate structurally, replacing themselves with powerful Psyker energy from the Empyrean, transforming into waves of purplish-red that stabbed towards Sanguinius.
But Sanguinius merely concentrated his mind for a moment, then his figure suddenly flickered, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared before Magnus.
This startled Magnus, as he hadn't detected any Warp fluctuations during Sanguinius' instantaneous movement.
The Superpower Training Box, an item that allows one to learn three superpowers: telekinesis, teleportation, and X-ray vision.
Alexander had exchanged for this item before, but for a normal person, it would take three hours a day for three years to fully master the superpowers.
So Guilliman, Alexander himself, and Alexander's doraemon Chapter were still using the Superpower Hat, which allowed them to activate all three superpowers just by wearing it.
Sanguinius, however, relying on his superhuman intellect, had managed to basically master teleportation during this time.
The intense energy field accumulated on the Spear of Accomplishment suddenly burst forth, and a golden light transformed into a sharp laser that fiercely pierced towards Magnus.
At such a close distance, even Magnus, a daemon Primarch, couldn't completely dodge it—————
Screech!!!
The light, imbued with Sanguinius' powerful Psyker energy and the ancient technological power of the Spear of Accomplishment, instantly pierced through Magnus' right arm, cutting off half of his wing along with it.
Sanguinius swiftly twisted his body and kicked Magnus in the chest.
Magnus cried out in pain, his body slamming hard into the side of the pyramid wall.
Sanguinius pinned Magnus against the sloped pyramid wall, raising the Spear of Accomplishment high in his hand.
Magnus gasped for breath, watching the scene in horror.
"Die!" Sanguinius whispered.
However, at this moment, Magnus and Sanguinius both heard a sound.
A sharp bird cry echoed in the void.