[PROCESSING—]
[Simulator update complete—]
[Many new features are being relaunched—]
[The simulation page has been replaced with: The Golden Throne]
[Note: The cost for simulation and other functions has been replaced with Throne Coins. Please explore on your own how to obtain them.]
[The salvage page has been replaced with: Pharos Lighthouse]
[Note: The Pharos Lighthouse must be placed in a real-world location to function; please choose your location carefully.]
[Note: The resource time has been completely consumed and will not be available again.]
[Note: All resource time has been converted into 10,543 salvage attempts, greatly increasing the chance of obtaining valuable items.]
[Note: Please check the storage page for any acquired supplies.]
[New special sacrifice page: Bronze Throne (Khorne)]
[Note: "Blood sacrifice to the Blood God, skull offering to the Skull Throne!"]
[Blessing Countdown: 88 (Individual/Group)]
[New special sacrifice page: Father's Garden (Nurgle)]
[Note: "All things decay, but life is immortal!"]
[Blessing Countdown: 77 (Individual/Group)]
[New special sacrifice page: Temple of Pleasure (Slaanesh)]
[Note: "Delight in agony, take pleasure in pain!"]
[Blessing Countdown: 66 (Individual/Group)]
[New special sacrifice page: Crystal Labyrinth (Tzeentch)]
[Note: "Think long and you will want to know; know many things and thirst for knowledge; only the wise, the cunning, and the extraordinary can be free from their influence!"]
[Blessing Countdown: 99 (Individual/Group)]
[A new diplomacy feature page has been added. Please explore it on your own...]
[A new Legion Management page has been added. Please explore it on your own...]
[Simulator update time: 13 hours, 13 minutes, 13 seconds]
[Note: "From this moment forward, you are truly the chosen one of the Five Gods... if you survive."]
"Hiss—"
About half a day later, as the update timer reached completion, Nolan's eyes suddenly opened.
Everything within his field of vision instantly underwent an extremely strange and eerie transformation!
Reality twisted. Colors inverted. Space warped.
Splash—
Accompanied by the resounding sound of pages turning, ancient and terrible, the simulator manifested differently.
What had originally appeared like a transparent electronic display had transformed into something far older. Ancient paper in the form of parchment! Yellow. Cracked. Stained with substances that might have been blood or ink or worse.
The first page to appear was the simulation interface, now renamed the Golden Throne.
At this moment, Nolan's vision exploded with impossible sights. He seemed to see inside a magnificent palace that stretched beyond comprehension. Impossibly vast. Unbearably sacred.
A decaying living corpse sat within. No. Not just sat. Was entombed. Was imprisoned. Was crucified upon an enormous metal construct!
The Golden Throne itself. And the Emperor. The corpse-god who held reality together through ten thousand years of agony.
And in Nolan's ears, bypassing all physical sensation, he seemed to truly hear the fierce shouts of countless humans from all across the galaxy!
Prayers. Pleas. Desperation given voice.
"For the Emperor..."
"We beg the Divine Emperor to save us..."
"Cadia will never fall..."
"May the Emperor protect you..."
The voices overlapped. Millions. Billions. Trillions. All screaming. All begging. All dying.
The psychic pressure was immense. Crushing. Nolan's consciousness buckled under the weight of a galaxy's worth of faith and fear.
In an instant, something broke inside him.
Strands of golden blood began to seep from Nolan's seven orifices. His eyes wept molten gold. His ears bled divine ichor. His nose ran with holy fluid. His mouth filled with the taste of brass and divinity.
Even from deep within his throat, he couldn't help but let out an extremely tragic and painful howl!
"AHHH—"
The sound was inhuman. Animal. The cry of something breaking under pressure beyond endurance.
Fortunately, most of the visions quickly faded. Reality reasserted partial control. The overwhelming flood of sensation retreated to manageable levels.
Only thirteen of the most intense calls for help remained, imprinted as alternative text options on the parchment interface!
[I. A Plea for Help from the Cadian Sector: Cadia Has Fallen]
[Note: Please be aware that entering and exiting the Warhammer universe requires the assistance of the Pharos Beacon.]
[Note: Please be aware that the support operation requires your physical presence. Please bring the necessary weapons and equipment, and prepare for potential Chaos Corruption.]
[Note: Regardless of success or failure, the basic support reward is one Throne Coin (which can be exchanged for one simulation opportunity)]
[Note: The likelihood of being recruited by the Astra Militarum's Cadian Commandos has increased.]
[Note: The likelihood of being recruited by the Chaos Forces - the Black Legion - has increased.]
[Note: Current success rate of support: 0]
[II. A Plea for Help from the Lamenters' Warband - Slaughterhouse III]
[Note: Please be aware that entering and exiting the Warhammer universe requires the assistance of the Pharos Beacon.]
[Note: Please take preventative measures to remove the greenskin ork spores.]
[Note: Regardless of success or failure, the basic support reward is one Throne Coin (which can be exchanged for one simulation opportunity)]
[Note: The likelihood of the Astartes Lamenters Chapter being recruited has increased.]
[Note: The likelihood of attracting greenskin orks has increased.]
[Note: Current success rate of support: 0]
[III. A plea for help from Armageddon...]
[IV. A plea for help from the nameless city...]
More options scrolled past. Dozens. All desperate. All doomed. All waiting for intervention that would never come.
"Ha!"
With bloodshot eyes gone wide, pupils dilated with shock and pain, Nolan stared intently at the massive amount of information displayed on the parchment-like simulator interface.
However, before he could examine the support missions closely, before he could process what any of it meant, reality shifted again.
The special sacrifice pages belonging to the four Chaos Gods also appeared one after another. Manifesting. Demanding attention. Offering damnation.
The Bronze Throne. The Father's Garden. The Crystal Labyrinth. The Temple of Pleasure. All laid out completely on either side of the Golden Throne!
Five powers. Five paths. Five damnations.
In an instant, Nolan heard them. Actually heard them. Not imagination. Not metaphor. Real voices from entities that should not exist in this universe.
Khorne's deep laughter echoed first. The sound of axes falling. Of skulls cracking. Of blood flowing in rivers. Laughter that promised eternal slaughter and glory in combat.
Nurgle's gentle murmur came next. Grandfatherly. Loving. The whisper of decay and acceptance. Of peace in pestilence. Of immortality through corruption.
Tzeentch's cunning sneer followed. A thousand voices speaking in riddles. Promises of knowledge. Of power. Of understanding beyond mortal comprehension. All lies wrapped in truth.
Slaanesh's lingering sigh completed the quartet. Seductive. Promising. The whisper of pleasures beyond imagining. Of sensations that would make everything else meaningless.
Four gods. Four voices. All speaking directly into Nolan's mind.
"Heh, you're right, I knew there would be a price to pay for all of this! I just didn't expect it to come so soon..."
Nolan's voice emerged broken. Wrong. His thoughts fragmenting under psychic assault.
"He must not be a good person... He must have something else in mind for being so generous to me!"
The Emperor. The corpse-god. Using him. Manipulating him. Sending him to die for humanity's survival.
At this moment, Nolan's consciousness was gradually being enveloped by incoherent thoughts spiraling toward madness. Corruption's tendrils wrapped around his mind.
He slowly raised his head, hair plastered to his scalp with golden blood. His movements were mechanical. Jerky. Wrong.
He stared at the fully completed Imperial statue before him with bloodshot cyan wolf eyes gone wild. Feral. Betrayed.
With a ferocious expression twisting his features into something monstrous, Nolan subconsciously bared his fangs. Enhanced canines gleaming. Predator's threat display.
He roared in a hoarse voice that carried genuine hatred, "You despicable zombie! Do you dare tell me yourself! What is the purpose of your visit?!"
The words were accusation. Demand. Rage against being used.
Before Nolan even finished speaking, before the echo faded, he moved.
He propelled his Terminator power armor upward from the metal floor in a swift violent motion. Servos screaming. Ceramite plates grinding.
The phased sword, gripped tightly in his palm with knuckles white beneath armor, swung down without hesitation!
The blade descended toward the Emperor statue's neck. Aimed to decapitate. To destroy. To strike at the god who'd abandoned him.
Da da da—
However, at that critical moment, a series of rapidly approaching footsteps rang out.
The towering figure of David suddenly rushed to Nolan's side with speed that belied his ancient frame. Moving faster than should be possible.
With optical sensors flashing blue light in patterns suggesting alarm and determination, David forcefully raised both metal hands!
His grip closed around the Terminator armor's thick arms. Restraining. Holding. Preventing sacrilege and suicide both.
"My lord! Please, wake up!" David's mechanical voice carried desperation no machine should feel.
Nolan's bloodshot eyes immediately snapped toward the interruption. His gaze fell on David beside him, seeing enemy rather than ally.
He growled through gritted teeth, words emerging as animal snarl, "David, let me go!"
Release me so I can destroy. So I can strike back. So I can make them pay.
"My lord!" David's voice rose, mechanical tones strained to produce emotion. "Everything the Emperor has done is for the survival of humanity, and it is also for your own good!"
The Iron Man's optical sensors blazed brighter. His mechanical voice, though difficult to inflect, seemed to carry genuine helplessness. Sorrow even.
"My lord! Do you think He has a choice? Do you have a choice?"
The questions cut through rage. Simple. Undeniable. Terrible.
"My lord! We really have no choice! Please wake up from those real lies!"
Real lies. Truth that felt like falsehood. The Emperor's necessary cruelty. The burden of salvation.
"AHHH—"
The next moment, Nolan let out another roar. But this time something shifted. Awareness flickering beneath corruption's veil.
He quickly raised his other ceramic-encased arm, the limb moving with terrible purpose.
However, the swinging metal fist did not fall on David's metal head as the ancient machine might have feared.
Instead, it struck Nolan's own face squarely! Full force. No restraint. Ceramite against flesh and bone.
"PUFF!"
The impact was tremendous. Bone cracked. Flesh split. Golden blood exploded from the wound.
As the divine ichor splattered onto the Emperor's statue below, as the blessed fluid touched sacred metal, something activated.
The Emperor's blood within Nolan seemed to play its necessary role for the first time since implantation. Purpose fulfilled. Protection activated.
The golden blood resonated. Purified. Drove back the whispers that weren't whispers. Severed the connections that shouldn't exist.
Nolan dropped heavily to kneel on one knee, panting. Each breath was agony. His chest heaved with effort.
The stinging pain in his mind, the sharp clarity of self-inflicted violence, finally freed his consciousness from the extreme thinking that had led him to a dead end!
Chaos recoiled. The voices faded. And Nolan was himself again.
"David, let go..."
His voice emerged hoarse but rational. Human. Sane.
"By the Emperor, I think I've fully woken up!"