In the dim interrogation room, only a simple, unadorned hanging lamp swayed gently.
But Alexander felt whether to turn on the light or not was largely unnecessary.
Alexander reached out, slightly shielding himself from the constant white light emanating from Sanguinius.
Sanguinius naturally carried a Psyker radiance, which wasn't very noticeable in a natural environment, but in this dim room, it appeared exceptionally dazzling.
"I remember there's a 'body luminescence' clause in the mutant screening form," Alexander whispered to Ers beside him.
However, the whispering was largely pointless; everyone in the room, except Ers, had hearing far exceeding that of ordinary mortals.
Khayon's expression was a bit bewildered, as if he didn't understand what Alexander suddenly meant by that remark.
"Ah?" Ers opened his mouth slightly, looking at Alexander in surprise.
Sanguinius' expression shifted slightly, and the light around him receded a little, no longer so dazzling.
Alexander nodded in satisfaction, then looked at Khayon, who was sitting opposite him.
Khayon's eyes had been restored by Sanguinius, but there was no light in his pupils; his body, with all its bones shattered, slumped in the chair, like a badly pickled salted fish.
"What do you want to ask him?" Alexander turned to Sanguinius and inquired.
"I want to know the current situation of my traitorous brothers," Sanguinius asked, a smile flitting across his lips.
Alexander showed a slightly curious expression. The current situation of those daemon Primarchs: Magnus, Angron, Fulgrim, and Mortarion, there was actually nothing to ask about; Sanguinius and Alexander both knew perfectly well.
Sanguinius truly wanted to know about Lorgar, Perturabo, and Alpharius/Omegon?
As if sensing Alexander's thoughts, Sanguinius nodded slightly, indicating Alexander had guessed correctly.
Hearing Sanguinius' words, a faint glimmer appeared in Khayon's eyes.
"That was truly a glorious era of conquest."
Khayon said with much emotion:
"We clashed with any force that refused to pledge allegiance to Abaddon and tried to hinder the rise of the Black Legion. We ran rampant through the deep reaches of the Eye of Terror, suppressing the nine Legions with absolute superiority and ending the civil war."
"Even the Primarchs successively submitted before Abaddon; some willingly, some out of necessity, and even Mortarion was the same, though Mortarion nearly killed us with his plague."
"I even used my Psyker powers to make Magnus kneel before us —————"
"Ers, slap him across the face," Alexander said coldly.
Although Ers didn't understand the meaning behind Alexander's action, she still obeyed Alexander's order and walked up to Khayon.
Slap ————
A loud slap landed on Khayon's left cheek.
"Didn't you tell me to speak?!" Khayon said angrily.
Alexander waved his hand dismissively, took out a tracking image mirror from his pocket and glanced at it, then pulled out a pinkish-red wooden door from his pocket.
Emperor Nobita, who was beside him, turned and walked into the wooden door.
A moment later, the wooden door opened again.
Khayon stared blankly as Ahriman and a Thousand Son were thrown out of the wooden door.
"What do you want?" Ahriman wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel in his hand, glaring at Alexander and demanding.
He had just been doing leg day on a steroid planet when suddenly a pinkish-red wooden door appeared beside him, and a man wearing a cowboy hat and a scarf walked out of the door.
Then, before Ahriman could react, a string of pinkish-red ropes wrapped around him, dragging him and a Thousand Son here.
"He said he used his Psyker powers to make Magnus kneel before him and Abaddon," Alexander said, pointing at Khayon.
Ahriman looked in the direction Alexander pointed, then noticed Khayon sitting at the other end of the room.
"You? Make a Primarch kneel?" Ahriman looked at Khayon, bursting into laughter.
He strode purposefully to Khayon, extending his well-trained, powerful arm.
Slap ——————
Ahriman slapped Khayon's right cheek:
"With your meager skills, do you even deserve it?"
"If you had that ability, why didn't you make Leman Russ kneel back on Prospero?"
Khayon stared at Ahriman with hatred.
"According to the Inquisition's records, Khayon claims they made the daemon Primarchs pledge allegiance to Abaddon, and even Mortarion was the same, though Mortarion's plague nearly killed them," Alexander said from the side.
"Does Abaddon, that running dog of the Four Gods, deserve to have Primarchs pledge allegiance? Most Primarchs don't care about his Black Legion at all."
Ahriman said with disdain:
"The Primarchs merely gave Abaddon a trivial gift out of respect for the Four Gods. Magnus didn't even meet Abaddon, only giving him a useless artifact."
"As for why Mortarion almost killed them, that's because Mortarion didn't even intend to give face to the plague God; he truly planned to butcher Abaddon, but was stopped by Nurgle."
"Later, Abaddon and Khayon went around proclaiming they had subdued the Primarchs, but that only fools newcomers who haven't experienced the Great Crusade."
"What about the unaligned daemon Primarchs?" Alexander nodded slightly, politely asking: "Did they also give face to the Four Gods?"
Ahriman paused slightly, then shook his head: "I don't know about that."
Then, Ahriman raised his head slightly: "Did you bring me here for these trivial matters?"
As he spoke, Ahriman began to survey his surroundings. This seemed to be Terra. In the corner was Sanguinius, and that man in the cowboy hat was the one who broke Khorne's leg?
Ahriman began to look for a way to break out.
But to Ahriman's surprise, Alexander suddenly reached out and gently touched the Thousand Son.
Then,
"Where is this?"
"Lord Ahriman? Khayon?"
"This is?! Sanguinius? What happened?"
The resurrected Thousand Sons warrior looked around blankly.
"This is your reward," Alexander said, pointing at the Thousand Sons warrior.
Ahriman's body trembled slightly, and then—
"Thank you, boss, you are truly too generous!"
Ahriman's attitude suddenly changed, bowing repeatedly to Alexander:
"If you ever need a consultant, a stand-in, or wizard services in the future, you can find me. I'm always available."
"Ahriman, your dignity ——————" Khayon opened his mouth to rebuke, but—
Bang!!!
Ahriman raised the black staff in his hand, and a burst of Psyker fire heavily struck Khayon, sending him flying backward to crash against the wall.
"Boss, do you need anything else?" Ahriman bowed again.
"Have you been in contact with Erebus recently? And Lucius?" Alexander said, his gaze shifting slightly.
He recalled the Emperor's previous prophecy: the Penitent, the Envious, and the Arch-Fiend. The Arch-Fiend was undoubtedly Erebus.
For the Penitent and the Envious, Alexander's first suspects were Tzeentch's chosen Ahriman and Slaanesh's chosen Lucius.
So he would frequently use the tracking image mirror to see what Ahriman was doing.
As a result, Ahriman was constantly working out, day in and day out, just working out, working out, and working out. Alexander was almost sick of watching him.
"Me? I'm always working out on the steroid planet," Ahriman shook his head: "Lucius and Erebus… I haven't heard what they've been doing recently. I'll go back and do some divination to see if I find anything."
"I see," Alexander nodded slightly, signaling that Ahriman could take the resurrected Thousand Sons warrior and leave through the anywhere door.
But Ahriman didn't leave; he turned his head and looked at Khayon, who was lying on the ground.
Then Ahriman suddenly reached out, and a strong Psyker force, like needles, pierced into Khayon's flesh.
Ignoring Khayon's wails, he gave a slight tug.
Rip ——————
Khayon's flesh churned, and stacks of papyrus-like cards were separated from his body, each card depicting a different demon.
"These are Khayon's daemon Tarot cards; each one binds a powerful demon, or even a Greater Daemon."
Ahriman said unhurriedly:
"He decomposed these Tarot cards into a molecular state and hid them within his flesh, which is why you didn't discover them."
"But this can't fool me, because I invented this spell."
As he spoke, Ahriman lightly snapped his fingers, and a powerful Psyker force surged into the stack of Tarot cards, causing Khayon to let out a wail.
"I've already cleared the link between these daemons and Khayon. You only need to inject a little of your own power to turn these daemons into your servants."
"You also don't need to worry about the Four Gods doing anything. Your power is so immense that even the Four Gods would find it difficult to reclaim daemons corrupted by you."
Ahriman gracefully and politely handed the stack of Tarot cards to Alexander.
"This is a gift for you. I only ask that if you have such a need again in the future, you remember me."
Alexander took the Tarot cards, unable to help but praise Ahriman's service attitude.
Ers looked at Ahriman, who was leaving through the anywhere door, with a bit of worry.
"Sir, do we really not need to arrest him? That's Ahriman," she inquired.
"Unless one of me, Sanguinius, Guilliman, Greater Daemon, or Nobita is here watching, you absolutely cannot trap Ahriman."
Alexander shrugged and said:
"Besides, is there still a need to arrest him now? As long as I can resurrect the Red Letter for him, Ahriman will rush over anytime."
Ers bowed respectfully, saying nothing more.
Khayon struggled painfully to get up from the ground. Alexander gestured with his eyes for Ers to help him up.
Ers walked to Khayon's side, carrying the broken-bodied Khayon back to his chair — Ahriman's spell was so precise that it only harmed Khayon, and nothing else, including the chair.
"What about Perturabo, Lorgar, and Alpharius/Omegon? How did you get them to willingly provide help?" Alexander asked Khayon.
"Alpharius is alive? What is Omegon?" Khayon asked, a bit bewildered.
But he still answered Alexander's question, raising his head slightly and saying with pride: "The Warmaster possesses the daemon Sword Drach'nyen. Even Primarchs are human and must fear the glory of that daemon sword."
"Ers, slap him across the face again," Alexander said icily.
Alexander wondered, what kind of person is Khayon?
How can he talk such nonsense?
Yes, yes, drach'nyen is very strong. This demon, born from humanity's first murder, indeed has a power over humans that far exceeds other daemons.
Sanguinius confirmed this; even he still feared drach'nyen's control and could potentially be wounded by it.
Even the Emperor himself was somewhat wary of drach'nyen's power.
But setting Lorgar aside for a moment, how exactly does your drach'nyen suppress Perturabo?
Perturabo himself is human, but his personal guards, the Iron Circle robots he forged with his own hands, are pure machinery.
Back then, with the help of the Iron Circle robots, Perturabo could even subdue a rampaging Angron.
Not to mention the current Perturabo, who can animate an entire planet's factories into mechanical monsters and possesses a large number of daemon Engines.
Drach'nyen's threat is indeed significant, but the premise is that Abaddon can withstand the firepower of an entire planet, break through a large number of daemon Engines, slay the Iron Circle robots that can contend with Angron, and get close to Perturabo.
This is almost impossible. Character-wise, Perturabo is also an individual Abaddon can barely persuade—yet, strangely, Perturabo was the Primarch who provided the most assistance to Abaddon during the thirteen Black Crusades.
Those piles of daemon Engines and war machines were all supplied by Perturabo to Abaddon. Perturabo even personally intervened to help Abaddon during the Tenth Black Crusade.
He was so diligent that Alexander was a little curious about what Abaddon paid to make Perturabo exert so much effort.
Surely Abaddon didn't use the ancestral art of the Huang family, cosplay as Perturabo's sister, and sell himself to Perturabo, did he?
Alexander thought about it and felt it was unlikely. The piglet Abaddon didn't inherit his Grandpa Huang's modeling.
This truly left Alexander unable to figure out the reason.
But Khayon was spouting nonsense, looking as if he couldn't distinguish between reality and fantasy, so it seemed there was nothing valuable to be gleaned from him.
Alexander pondered for a moment, then looked into his four-dimensional pocket.
A moment later, he pulled out a large hammer from his four-dimensional pocket and gestured for Ers to take it.
Khayon stared blankly at the large hammer in Ers' hand.
"What are you trying to do?" Khayon's expression showed a hint of vigilance.
"Ers, hit him on the head."
At Alexander's command, Ers swiftly grabbed the large hammer and slammed it onto Khayon's head.
During his time in the Inquisition, Khayon had seen all kinds of torture. A mere hammer blow to the head was like a tickle to him—wait, why was he feeling a bit dizzy?
Khayon couldn't suppress the dizziness emanating from his head. His eyes rolled back, and his head slammed heavily onto the table.
Then, light burst from his eyes, projecting a light screen into the air like a projector.
[Item Name: Memory Projection Hammer]
[Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store]
[Production Date: 231.M3]
[Function: An item capable of projecting memories. Simply use this item to violently strike a person's head, and it can project the memories from their brain, whether they are still remembered or have been forgotten.]
Alexander looked curiously at the light screen, at the memories projected from Khayon's mind.
"I really need to train you, Khayon."
"Scream, scream out loud."
"Say, are the Dark Eldar of Commorragh not your master?"
On the light screen, Khayon was playing some exciting, dangerous, and unbearable games with his Dark Elf girlfriend.
Alexander turned his head away in disgust, signaling Ers to continue hitting.
This was also one of the Memory Projection Hammer's flaws: what kind of memory was broadcast depended entirely on the force of the strike, making it highly random.
"My sister, how beautiful you are, this robust macro cannon, the destructive salvo of lances."
"Abaddon, look at your big, strong daemon sword."
"Let's play a game of daemon Tarot."
"My turn, summon, the Stooping Knight!"
All sorts of jumbled memories flickered before Alexander's eyes.
Then Alexander's gaze caught a fleeting scene.
Abaddon and Khayon were in a dark cave, and before them stood a burly man dressed in an ascetic's robe.
"Stop." Alexander gestured for Ers to stop hitting.
Then Alexander and Sanguinius looked with interest at the scene on the light screen.
"You have arrived." The burly ascetic slightly twisted his body and looked at Khayon and Abaddon, speaking.
Abaddon's expression showed displeasure; he seemed to dislike the surrounding environment.
"I thought you would receive us in the Purgatorial Sanctuary of Siccarus, not in a cold cave on this remote world." Abaddon said in a low voice.
He clearly took this as a slight.
"Ghostly shadows, exploiting weakness."
"Evil daemons, fierce as a wild hunt."
"I cannot expose the Sanctuary of Siccarus to the raven's eye of dark forces. He is like a phantom, omnipresent. I fear he may lurk by your side, following in your footsteps."
A simple yet seductive voice emanated from the ascetic's mouth. He spoke to Abaddon like an eager missionary.
"I never knew that you, favored by the Four Gods, would also fear the darkness of the Warp." Abaddon said mockingly.
"The Four Gods are not the entirety of Chaos." The ascetic slowly said, "Chaos is far deeper and darker than you can imagine."
"You have not been targeted by those dark entities simply because you are insignificant in their eyes."
"In fact, you are insignificant in my eyes too. Were it not for my faith in Chaos and my hatred for the Imperium's Adeptus Ministorum, I would not be meeting you here at all."
Saying this, the tall man in the ascetic's robe slowly removed his hood, revealing a shining, dazzling bald head to everyone's eyes.
The First Heretic, founder of the Adeptus Ministorum, Primarch of the Word Bearers, Lorgar Aurelian.
Although Ers had anticipated it, he still couldn't help but gasp.
"I completely understand Lorgar's hatred for the Adeptus Ministorum. If a group of people plagiarized your painstaking work for ten thousand years, not only not paying you royalties but also erasing your name, you would also be angry." Alexander said half-jokingly.
Although it was a joke, Alexander understood Lorgar's help to Abaddon. He worshipped and believed in Chaos, so helping Abaddon, who was chosen by the Four Gods, was reasonable and logical, and he could also vent his hatred towards the Adeptus Ministorum. Why not?
As for why Lorgar himself didn't personally go to vent his hatred... according to Lorgar himself, he was to undergo long periods of asceticism and meditation in the tower on the daemon World of Siccarus.
The true reason might also involve some other factors.
Then Alexander continued to look at the light screen, at Khayon's memories.
"I will teach you the techniques and mysteries of enchantment, allowing you to understand how to bind daemons from the Warp to weapons or fleshly bodies."
"Hear ye, my Book of Lorgar."
"Great Word Bearers, favored children of the Empyrean."
"You shall praise the name of Lorgar."
"To the indifferent, we abandon."
"To the compassionate, we praise."
"We draw the gaze of the gods."
"We receive the keenest blessings."
"Blood-stained star rivers, the galaxy ablaze."
"We feast, satisfying the gods."
As Lorgar chanted in the light screen, the veil of reality in the cave began to thin, the roars of daemons started to echo in the air, and the power of the Empyrean began to pour into the material world.
Not only in the light screen, but at this very moment, in the Inquisition's interrogation room, the veil of reality also thinned considerably.
The blasphemous scriptures from the Book of Lorgar transcended the boundaries of memory and reality, directly affecting the vicinity, summoning daemons.
The roars of daemons echoed in the void, ghostly laughter chattered incessantly. They had heard the call of the scriptures from the Book of Lorgar and came, prostrating themselves on the veil of reality, eager to glimpse the material universe.
Rip!!
A parchment scroll flew from Alexander's hand, its high gothic signature, written in black ink, burst forth with golden light.
"Druvata Imperator Imperium"
These words shone brightly in the void, burning directly through the veil between reality and the Warp, striking down those eager daemons.
Wails echoed in the air, vicious curses were incessant. They cursed Lorgar for harming them, then hastily tried to escape.
But having come, where was the sense in leaving?
Nobita's fingers moved slightly, weaving a cat's cradle into the shape of a broom.
"Nobi-style Cat's Cradle: Broom."
The daemons hiding behind the veil of reality were caught off guard, entangled by Nobita's string, yanked into reality, and thrown into Alexander's four-dimensional pocket.
Sanguinius didn't stand idle either, grabbing several daemons and stuffing them into the four-dimensional pocket.
"Lorgar, you bastard!"
"You actually gave the contents of the Book of Lorgar to this demon-eating Chaos God!"
"Lorgar, I *Empyrean' profanity*"
These daemons continued to curse Lorgar for harming them until they were stuffed into the pocket.
Meanwhile, on the light screen formed by Khayon's memories, as Lorgar chanted, many daemons were summoned by Lorgar and enchanted onto weapons.
This dark, blasphemous knowledge also flowed into Khayon and Abaddon's minds as Lorgar demonstrated.
But as time passed, the Khayon in the memory gradually sensed something amiss.
He felt the surrounding darkness growing deeper, and something seemed to be writhing in the shadows.
There was everything in the shadows...
Khayon instinctively felt fear, sensing the hatred brewing in the shadows.
He vaguely recalled a terrifying rumor circulating within the Black Legion.
It was said that there was everything in the shadows of the Eye of Terror, and phantoms beyond the comprehension of mortals and even Astartes lurked there, ready to ambush; anyone who mistakenly entered the shadows would be torn apart by their sharp limbs.
"Hmm?" Lorgar seemed to sense something. He hastily closed the Book of Lorgar in his hand and turned to look at Abaddon and Khayon: "This lesson will end here."
Lorgar's tone carried a hint of panic.
Abaddon cast a strange look, but before Abaddon could ask, a sharp, piercing, hate-filled roar erupted from the shadows.
"Lorgar!!!"
"I told you, I remember your scent!!!"