"Welcome back, Traveler."
"Traveler: Emrys."
"Race: Human."
"Occupation: scavenger."
"Remaining Energy: 0 units."
"Remaining Source Power: 500 units."
"Main world: warhammer M41.999."
"Anchor World: marvel cinematic universe-99999."
"World Authority Level: LV1."
"Time Flow Rate: 1-10."
Before even opening his eyes, Emrys already smelled the rotten, pungent industrial exhaust of the lower hive.
Looking at the somewhat unfamiliar, dirty alley, his thoughts paused for half a second before quickly returning to normal, and he let out a heavy sigh.
"I'm back again."
Thirty days in the Marvel universe had indeed left an unforgettable impression on him.
But unfortunately, no matter how much he yearned to stay, he ultimately had to return to this 'cesspit.'
After shedding a trace of weakness in his heart, Emrys decisively lowered his head to check the gains from his Marvel trip, a smile blooming on his face.
First and foremost, without a doubt, the greatest gain from this trip was the silver-black metallic briefcase he held in his left hand, a portable Mark 5, with a futuristic design.
Its outer shell armor incorporated Adamantium, so its defensive performance was not weakened in the slightest, even surpassing the modified mark 3 in combat form.
Here, Emrys sincerely had to thank the sponsorship from the enthusiastic citizen, target.
The Mark 5 portable's weapon system was relatively scarce; due to its small size and light weight, it only had two types: arc pulse cannons in the palms and a cluster pulse cannon in the chest.
The miniature arc reactor embedded in the chest could continuously supply power to the armor, providing for long-distance flight and high-intensity combat for short periods.
Furthermore, Tony had considered certain extreme situations, so he included resistance systems for specific extreme environments within the armor, such as space, high heat, low temperature, and radiation.
Basically, Tony had considered every situation he could think of.
This Mark 5 armor subtly yet overtly conveyed Tony's full heartfelt intentions for his friend who was about to embark on a distant journey!
The only thing that annoyed Tony was probably the reluctant deletion of the 'AI' auxiliary system, after Emrys' repeated pleas.
Besides the 'Mark 5' armor, the rest was a 'reward' obtained from S.H.I.E.L.D.
The box in his right hand contained a tube of gravitonium, ten portable diffusion energy sticks, an electrostatic camouflage veil, three pre-crushed gold bricks, and data for the Super Soldier Serum and the Infinity Formula Serum.
If he had to pick the most important items inside, Emrys believed it was undoubtedly the two serum data sets.
"It's a pity Magos Galahad isn't a bio-sage, otherwise these two serum data sets might have been of great use." Although the two serum data sets were very important, he also understood that these two crucial pieces of information were not yet ready to be put to use.
After all, humans in 2008 AD and warhammer humans tens of thousands of years later had almost a world of difference at the genetic level.
To use an exaggerated analogy, a banana from 2008 AD was probably closer to humans from ten thousand years ago than the genes of warhammer humans.
If he were to directly inject the two serums as prescribed, who knew what would happen?
"I was really reckless back then."
Thinking of this, Emrys couldn't help but wipe away a cold sweat.
At that time, being cornered and desperate, he directly injected Compound V and didn't mutate; it truly was the Emperor's blessing!
But in other words, only if there was a biological gene-sage who could correct the genetic errors in the two serum data sets, could these two serums truly show their value!
However, Emrys soon realized he was facing a serious problem.
Where on earth should he hide these two large boxes?
"If I just carry them out like this, I guarantee I'll be targeted by gangs before I walk a hundred meters."
Emrys looked down at the appearance of the Mark 5 in his hand and fell silent.
The silver-black metallic briefcase, with its futuristic design, was hard not to notice.
Let alone gangs, even a scavenger from the lower hive could tell at a glance that this item was valuable.
In the lower hive, carrying a Mark 5 was equivalent to carrying a large bundle of crowns, especially in the eyes of greedy people; he would be a walking fat sheep!
It wasn't that he feared these scumbags; he simply didn't want to attract trouble.
Besides, he had been gone for an entire month; who knew how large the cult's scale had become?
Before determining the situation, acting cautiously was the best option. Emrys pondered for a long time and decided to ask the omnipotent system: "Do you have a storage space-like function?"
"Traveler, with your current authority level, you possess a 10 cubic meter private space."
"This private space can be carried by the Traveler to the Anchor World, but carrying people, supplies, and equipment within it requires additional energy and source power."
"So that's how it is."
Emrys roughly understood that when traveling to a fixed Anchor World, he could use the private space to carry extra people or supplies.
A 10 cubic meter private space was more than enough to fit the two boxes for now.
After stowing the two boxes into his private space, Emrys squatted down and covered his entire face with mud, then picked up the clothes he had prepared beforehand and hidden nearby, meticulously disguising himself.
In just a few minutes, he transformed from a handsome young man in a suit to a scavenger of the lower hive again.
Emitting a foul odor, hunched over as if malnourished, he cautiously walked out of the alley.
After more than a month, Emrys didn't expect the lower hive to have changed so much.
Orderly and organized, two words that should never be associated with the lower hive, appeared in his mind.
The previously dirty streets had been cleaned, and although it still couldn't mask the industrial exhaust and the millions of times recycled rotten air, for now, it truly looked brand new!
If he wasn't so sure he was really in the lower hive, Emrys would probably have wondered if he had taken a wrong turn.
He watched the Iron Crows gang members maintaining order, and the scavengers, though still poor, with faces clearly full of hope, lining up in an orderly fashion to receive their daily distributed rations.
The distributed supplies and rations weren't much, just a single serving energy bar and a fuel cell.
But these meager provisions, enough to get by, were sufficient for a scavenger to fill his stomach when he had no harvest, or to save someone on the verge of death.
On the faces of those scavengers, Emrys saw smiles of 'happiness' that hadn't appeared for a long time.
Yes, they were happy, or at least they considered themselves 'very happy.'
People living at the bottom of the lower hive didn't ask for much; being able to survive was the greatest happiness for them.
But what if someone were to deprive them of this only happiness available to those at the bottom of the lower hive?
The outcome was self-evident.
When the people at the bottom of the lower hive were deprived of their only hope and happiness, with just a little guidance, hatred would be unleashed en masse.
Like raging flames, it would ignite the entire hive capital, until, under the dominion of anger and hatred, it consumed all life on this world!
The Bones of billions of creatures would be forged into a throne of blood, offered to the Blood God!
Emrys guessed the ending but was powerless to change it.
Looking at the lower hive's dome, the low-lying clouds perpetually shrouded in radiation and industrial exhaust, he spoke with a tone full of helplessness, bitterly saying: "If I hadn't witnessed it with my own eyes, I'd truly suspect that this isn't the Blood God at all, but rather the Lord of Change."
Honestly, based on Merlin' shallow understanding from his previous life, cults that worship Khorne usually aren't this intelligent.
Using the irreconcilable conflict between the lower hive and the upper hive to rally the strength of the entire lower hive, and then at the right moment, completely ignite this hidden anger, setting the entire hive capital ablaze—this kind of thing seems more like the work of Tzeentch!
If he hadn't personally witnessed the 'Jingguan' (pyramid of skulls) made from hundreds of scavenger heads in the East District, Merlin would have suspected he had made a mistake.
A smooth-talking, highly inflammatory schemer fits Tzeentch's taste perfectly!
Suddenly, the expression on Merlin' face stiffened, and he had a bad premonition.
Could it be... that Tzeentch is really involved?
No, no, no, impossible, absolutely impossible!
He shook his head vigorously, expelling this terrifying thought, and quickly made the Aquila sign: "Emperor protect us, please don't increase the difficulty any further; I can't play anymore!"
The Nachmund Corridor, Necrons, Khorne, Genestealer Cults... this world is already chaotic enough!
The only thing missing, perhaps, is the Orks?
Merlin shivered abruptly, and for some reason, his right eyelid twitched wildly: "Bah, bah, bah, what feudal superstition? Get lost!"
As the saying goes, a twitching left eye means wealth, while a twitching right eye is a symptom caused by involuntary muscle contractions in the eye.
He firmly believed that the compassionate Emperor would never treat a loyal subject in such a cruel way.
"Forget it, now is not the time to think about these things."
Merlin cast aside his distracting thoughts and discreetly left the crowd, changing his route to the East District.
Before leaving, he and Jackal had agreed to meet at the secret base a month later.
However, when Merlin followed the sewer pipes back to Jackal's secret base, he found it empty; almost all the equipment had been moved out, leaving only a note.
'Kid, if you come back and don't see me, take what I've prepared for you and go directly to the middle-hive to find Galahad.'
Merlin finished reading the contents of the note and scanned the secret base.
The chainsword and heavy bolter, which had been left in the corner, were now gone, apparently taken by Jackal.
Although Merlin didn't know what Jackal had encountered to make him take these two pieces of equipment, at least one thing was certain.
Something major must have happened in the lower hive during the month he was away!
Otherwise, with Jackal's strength, if he were just dealing with the scum of the lower hive gangs, there would be no need to bring a heavy bolter and a chainsword, two highly lethal weapons!
"Could it be related to Urien?" Merlin crumpled the note, his already heavy heart filled with even more oppression and unease.
The only person who could make Jackal so serious, even to the point of using a heavy bolter, was the psyker of that cult, Urien; he couldn't think of any other possibility.
"No, I must inform Magos Galahad of this news as soon as possible!"
Thinking this, Merlin destroyed the note and hastily took the 'token' Jackal had left, intending to return to the middle-hive to find tech-priest Galahad.
Given the current situation, he could only hope that the 'reinforcements' Magos Galahad called for would be strong enough!
The 'token' Jackal left was actually the 'Iron Aquila Medal'.
With the Iron Aquila Medal, even the hive capital's Arbites would not dare to stop Merlin, and since they had seen it several times, he passed through smoothly.
The middle-hive was as tranquil and peaceful as ever.
Completely different from the dirty and chaotic style of the lower hive, medieval-style houses stood side by side along the streets, neatly arranged.
But unfortunately, Merlin had no time to linger and headed straight for Magos Galahad's Mechanicum Temple.
"Merlin!"
Just then, a youthful and familiar voice called out, stopping Merlin' hurried steps.
He turned back in surprise, only to see Gawain, holding newly bought items, waving excitedly at him from the entrance of a bakery.
Beside Gawain was a fair-faced girl, shyly holding the boy's sleeve, not daring to look up at Merlin.
Gawain, holding the bag of bread, actively took the girl's hand and strode over: "What a coincidence, I didn't expect to meet you here, Merlin!"
Merlin looked at the young man and couldn't help but be greatly surprised: "Gawain, how are you in the middle-hive?"
"Hehe, thanks to Mr. Kolchi." Gawain seemed to have gained a bit more confidence, and his clothes were much cleaner. He rubbed the back of his head and said with a smile, "He gave me a pass, so I can come to the middle-hive one day a week to purchase supplies."
The Iron Crows gang. No wonder, it seems this is a route specially opened by that upper hive nobleman, Urien, for lower hive supplies.
Understanding the key point, Merlin looked at the girl beside him: "Who is she?"
"Merlin, please allow me to introduce her to you."
Gawain shyly rubbed his nose, holding the girl's hand, and said bashfully: "Her name is Stella, she's Mr. Kolchi's daughter. I really like Stella, and I plan to ask Mr. Kolchi to marry Stella to me after a while."
Merlin was silent for a long time, unsure what to say.
Was it a blessing, or a warning?
From Gawain's perspective, the Iron Crows gang had given him hope to survive, just like those people at the bottom of the lower hive.
Kolchi of the Iron Crows gang was also his benefactor who rescued him and his sister from those scoundrels. How could he explain it clearly in just a few words?
"Since this is the path you've chosen, I won't say much more."
Finally, Merlin patted his shoulder, his eyes filled with an unspeakable complexity: "I wish you both happiness, Gawain."
"Thank you, Merlin."
Gawain was very happy, his face radiating with joy.
"By the way, where is your sister?"
Merlin remembered that this boy and his sister were always inseparable, so why was he alone this time?
"Via has been a bit unhappy lately."
When the topic of his sister came up, Gawain seemed to have something difficult to say, and a hint of helplessness appeared on his face: "After Via found out about Stella and me, she's always been angry and smashing things. Stella even got hurt, so I didn't bring her out this time."
"How could this be?"
Merlin was a bit surprised. In his impression, Via was always quiet and seemed to dislike strangers.
However, Via was extremely dependent on her brother, Gawain.
Back in the alley, Merlin could tell that the bond between these siblings was very deep, and he hadn't expected it to turn out like this.
"I don't know why either."
Gawain looked dejected, full of helplessness: "Via doesn't want me to be with Stella, but we truly love each other. I believe one day, Via will definitely understand."
"It's just a child's temper, it's normal." Merlin didn't think much of it and comforted him, "Just buy a gift and coax her."
"How did you know I was thinking that?"
Gawain chuckled, pulling out a beautiful comb from his pocket: "Merlin, I'm planning to give Via a comb for her birthday; she'll definitely love it!"
"A good choice. When a girl grows up, she'll always need a comb."
Merlin glanced at the comb; it was made of some animal bone, entirely white as jade, adorned with a few cheap artificial glass decorations.
Although not expensive, it was definitely considered a 'luxury item' in the lower hive.
"By the way, is Via having a birthday soon? How old will she be?" Merlin asked.
"Eight!"
Gawain gently stroked the comb, his eyes filled with deep affection: "Counting from the day I found her, Via' eighth birthday will be in half a month."
Eight years old, a blooming bud, the age of pure childhood.
In Gawain, Emrys saw a rare and dazzling humanity!
Perhaps the Warhammer Universe is a cesspit, but it's undeniable that there are still many shining humans fighting desperately for the survival of their race.
It is precisely because of many people like Gawain that the Imperium has endured to this day.
Emrys subconsciously reached out and stroked his head, his tone much softer: "You are a kind child, Gawain."
"No, Merlin, you are the kind one." Gawain possessed excellent character, and his blue eyes were full of sincerity and gratitude: "If it weren't for you back then, Via and I would have starved to death. I've always been very grateful to you!"
Such a sensible child was truly rare. Although Emrys felt a pang of reluctance, he had no choice.
Gawain was too stubborn, yet so sincere, and it was precisely for this reason that he was devoted to the Iron Crows gang and Kolchi.
But if Gawain hadn't been a grateful person, perhaps Emrys wouldn't have helped him in the first place.
Every little thing is fated.
Emrys sighed inwardly, pretending to reach into his pocket, but in reality, he pulled out a small gold nugget: "Consider this a small token of my regard, a birthday gift for Via. Remember, don't show it to anyone. With your intelligence, you should be able to find a way to exchange it for money."
This was all he could do for Gawain.
"No, Merlin, I..."
Gawain, feeling the heavy metal in his hand, quickly refused: "You've already helped me so much. I... I can't accept anything more from you. Please take it back."
"You don't like what I gave you?"
Emrys deliberately frowned, feigning dissatisfaction.
Gawain was flustered, pacing anxiously, sweat beading on his forehead: "No, I didn't mean that, Merlin."
"I'm just kidding, take it." Emrys ruffled the boy's hair, chuckling: "It's not just for your sister, it's also a gift to wish you both well for your marriage."
Fingering the gold nugget, Gawain didn't know what it was, but it was certainly valuable. He carefully and cautiously put it into his pocket: "Thank you, Merlin."
"Goodbye, kid."
Emrys looked at him deeply, then turned and left without hesitation, waving his hand: "May the God-Emperor protect you, Gawain."
"Merlin, will we meet again?"
Before parting, Gawain seemed a little reluctant, looking at Emrys in the afterglow of the setting sun, and asked innocently: "When I earn enough money, I want to repay you!"
Looking at Gawain in the shadows, Emrys didn't turn back, pausing in silence for a few seconds, a hint of melancholy on his face: "Yes, we will definitely meet again. Remember, if anything feels wrong, don't hesitate. You must protect yourself and your sister, and of course, your future wife."
After a month away, the cathedral's doors seemed to have been redecorated.
There were several new bullet holes in the walls, clearly indicating that Jackal had been here and engaged in a full-blown brawl.
Emrys stepped over the threshold and heard binary prayers coming from inside the cathedral.
"Respected Magos Galahad, I have returned."
Looking at Magos Galahad, who was praying in the cathedral, Emrys spoke cautiously.
The prayer stopped abruptly, but Galahad maintained his praying posture. For a moment, the entire cathedral fell into an eerie silence, the atmosphere inexplicably oppressive.
A moment later, Galahad, clad in a rust-red robe, ended his prayer.
This Tech-Priest from the Mechanicus walked steadily towards him until he stopped in front of Emrys.
The electronic instrument embedded in his left eye flickered with a crimson glow, as if scanning his body.
After a brief silence, Galahad seemed to sigh in relief: "It's good that you're back. I won't hold this incident against you, but in the future... you are absolutely forbidden to do such dangerous things again."
Something was nineteen parts out of ten amiss.
With that caring tone, he couldn't possibly be Galahad's illegitimate son, could he?
"Uh, thank you for your concern." Emrys was slightly confused for half a second, but then continued: "Magos Galahad, I went to the lower hive to look for Mr. Jackal, but—"
"I already know about this matter."
Magos Galahad interrupted him, seemingly unconcerned, and said flatly: "Jackal told me before he did this. You don't need to ask too many questions."
What kind of matter would require a heavy bolter and a chainsword?
Suddenly, Emrys had a bold idea, and he couldn't help but be startled himself.
A heavy bolter... Could old man Jackal be planning to assassinate the planetary governor?
But soon, he dismissed the idea.
No matter how capable Jackal was, he couldn't possibly kill the planetary governor in plain sight, unless he was insane.
"You've returned at just the right time."
At this moment, Magos Galahad gave him a meaningful look and slowly said: "Come with me to see someone."
Having spent a long time with the tech-priest, although Galahad's voice was always low and hoarse, this time, Emrys could detect a rare hint of solemnity in it.
"Magos Galahad, may I ask who we are going to see?" he inquired with some curiosity.
After all, someone who could make a Tech-Priest act so solemnly clearly wouldn't be a minor figure.
"Don't ask too many questions."
However, Galahad did not reveal anything, merely warning him: "Don't say what shouldn't be said, remember, otherwise I won't be able to protect you."
Emrys really wanted to ask if it was so dangerous, could he not go.
But unfortunately, Magos Galahad gave him no room to refuse, directly stepping over the threshold: "Hurry up and follow, kid."
Helpless, Emrys had no choice but to follow this 'old man'.
He had expected to be taken to the upper hive to meet the nobles of the upper echelons. After all, given Galahad's status, besides nobles, he couldn't think of anyone else who could make a Tech-Priest act so solemnly, even repeatedly warning him about proper conduct and so on.
But to his surprise, Galahad actually led him to a dilapidated hotel.
To call it dilapidated was an understatement. The hotel environment was no better than the lower hive, and even the building's structure was shaky, as if it would collapse at any moment.
However, Magos Galahad seemed unconcerned, treading with heavy steps on the creaking stairs. Emrys was afraid the stairs couldn't bear the weight of a Tech-Priest.
Fortunately, the stairs held, and the two arrived on the second floor.
Galahad gently knocked on a room door: "I am Galahad, Tech-Priest of the Martian Mechanicus."
A moment later, with a click, the lock opened.
Galahad gestured for Emrys to follow and entered the room first.
The hotel room was sparsely furnished, with only a single bed that was almost moldy, and no separate bathroom. The entire room emitted a very pleasant scent of incense.
Near the window sat a woman.
She was tall and straight, like a drawn sword, exuding an intimidating authority that made people avert their gaze, as if she were born noble.
Her skin was fair, her features delicate, and her demeanor was as cold as ice, like an unmelting iceberg. Her nose was high, her lips tightly closed, and she wore a black robe with gold trim. She sat quietly by the window, her light golden curly hair falling loosely.
Just as Emrys was guessing the woman's identity.
Magos Galahad actually bowed slightly to the sitting woman in respect: "First meeting, I am Galahad, Tech-Priest of the Martian Mechanicus, I pay my highest respects to you, Inquisitor Winnie Winslet!"
It was only then that Emrys finally noticed a peculiar pendant hanging around Winnie's slender, snow-white neck.
The pendant looked more like an emblem; it appeared unremarkable, and its decoration was very ordinary, utterly plain.
But anyone who understood that emblem would likely be scared out of their wits.
The iconic 'I' shape, with a skull symbolizing human purity in the center, and wing-like extensions on either side, was none other than the infamous Inquisition's 'rose knot', issued to every Inquisitor as a symbol of power and status.
Any Inquisitor holding a rose knot could issue an Exterminatus order, provided the reasons were appropriate and the evidence conclusive.
Representing the Emperor's will, it could incinerate billions of souls!
It must be said, the psychological pressure of facing an Inquisitor was far greater than Emrys had imagined.
A formal Imperial Inquisitor could virtually make anyone submit to his will, could call upon almost any resource of the Empire, and bore the responsibility of eradicating heretics, expelling Aliens, hunting demons, and destroying Worlds.
To broadly summarize the power of an Inquisitor in a common phrase, it was: execute first, report later, with Imperial prerogative!
Although Emrys was well aware that the process for signing an Exterminatus required strict review.
But, it was undeniable that every year the Exterminatus Orders under the Inquisition would deal with a batch of Inquisitors who had issued Exterminatus due to unqualified execution reasons.
Of course, a major reason for their execution was that the Exterminatus had already been carried out.
Reining in his scattered thoughts, Emrys imperceptibly exhaled, his emotions returning to calm.
By the window, Winnie sat with her legs crossed, observing Emrys with a scrutinizing gaze.
Her eyes were beautiful, like a clear blue sky, pure, transparent, and bright.
If he had to use other adjectives, Emrys would probably say: she didn't seem like an Inquisitor, because her eyes revealed a clear stupidity.
And in fact, in the conversation that followed, Winnie's performance confirmed this point for him.
A moment later, she averted her gaze and looked at Galahad, nodding slightly in greeting: "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Galahad, I've heard things about you."
"Please convey my respects to your teacher, Lord Gransoll, the Empire's most loyal blade."
Towards this female Inquisitor, Galahad showed an unprecedented respect in both his words and actions: "I heard that your mentor, Lord Gransoll, has officially retired from his duties in the Inquisition, it's a pity I am in the Imperial frontier, I wonder if Lord Gransoll is still well?"
"He is well."
Winnie Winslet's eyelids drooped slightly, seemingly unwilling to discuss her mentor Gransoll, and steered the conversation towards Emrys: "Is he the person you mentioned?"
"Yes, esteemed Lady Winnie Winslet."
Galahad stepped back slightly, slowly introducing: "Please allow me to formally introduce you, this child is Merlin Emrys , a lower hive scavenger, who accidentally discovered traces of a cult's presence and a blood sacrifice ritual."
Upon mentioning 'blood ritual,' Winnie's gaze fell on Emrys again, and she asked in a slightly cold tone: "Can you elaborate on the entire process?"
Galahad stepped back half a pace, and softly said to Emrys: "This is an Imperial Inquisitor, you don't need to know what an Inquisitor is, just answer whatever she asks."
"Okay, Magos Galahad."
Emrys knew that the biggest test had arrived.
Facing an Inquisitor's interrogation, even a slight mistake could lead to suspicion.
Fortunately, with the foundation of Jackal's disguise training course, Emrys had learned how to skillfully control his facial expressions and details, and hide his true thoughts as much as possible.
"Esteemed Lady Winnie Winslet, the matter is as follows."
In fact, Emrys had, a long time ago, repeatedly deliberated and filtered the entire event in his mind.
He used a nine-truths, one-lie approach, while also mixing in a lot of useless information, to conceal the fact that his predecessor had been discovered and then died at Urien's hands.
"Emrys, are you sure the psyker you saw that day was Urien Hadley?"
After listening to the description, Winnie couldn't help but frown slightly, staring at Emrys suspiciously: "Do you know what happens when you slander a noble?"
"Esteemed Lady Winnie Winslet, I swear to the God-E,peror!"
Emrys unhesitatingly swore by the Emperor, as this was considered the most effective oath for an Inquisitor.
"Very good, remember what you said today."
Winnie looked at him deeply, and said faintly: "If you are lying, I swear I will execute you with white phosphorus, and no one will be able to obstruct my will."
But when she spoke the last part, she glanced at Galahad, intentionally or unintentionally, as if she were speaking to him.
"Our conversation for today ends here."
Winnie turned away, writing something in a notebook she carried, and without looking back, said: "The conversation here is not allowed to be leaked."
"I hope you can take action as soon as possible, Lady Winnie Winslet."
Galahad spoke in a low tone, as if mixed with a hint of heaviness and unease, slowly saying: "At the current rate of the cult's expansion, they might start moving soon, we don't have much time."
"I will, Lord Galahad."
Winnie's writing movements were continuous, as if without any emotional fluctuations: "But before confirmation, I need more conclusive evidence, and not just the verbal accounts of you two."
"With all due respect, Lady Winnie Winslet, your approach is condoning the cult's expansion." Galahad was clearly somewhat dissatisfied with this answer.
To put it in harsher terms, by the time you find conclusive evidence, the cult will have already taken over the hive capital!
But even so, Galahad still spoke in the gentlest possible tone: "Lady Winnie Winslet, you can question our veracity, but the cult's expansion will not stop because of it; on the contrary, upon learning of an Inquisitor's arrival, they might accelerate the pace of their plans."
Emrys tacitly nodded, and with a little empathy, if he were Urien, upon learning of an Inquisitor's arrival, whether or not it was aimed at him, he would accelerate the pace of his plans.
"Lord Galahad, are you suggesting that I mobilize Imperial troops without any evidence, based solely on your two verbal accounts?" Winnie stopped her writing, and a solemn expression appeared between her cold brows: "I am an Inquisitor, and precisely because of that, I cannot betray the power bestowed by His Divine Emperor!"
"Lady Winnie Winslet, I am not questioning your decision."
Galahad's words revealed a deep weariness and exhaustion: "The cult's influence is expanding too quickly; if we wait for you to investigate thoroughly, the entire hive capital might fall. I sincerely suggest that you send a Astra Militarum message to call in a contingent of the Astra Militarum, at least that way, we can prevent a sudden cult attack on the hive capital."
Winnie put down her pen, her eyes filled with solemnity, and she said word by word: "As of now, all the intelligence you have provided lacks any 'evidence'."
"Whether a 'Blood God sacrifice ritual' truly exists in the lower hive, and whether Urien Hadley is connected to the cult, all need to be confirmed by me."
"You should be very clear that even an Inquisitor does not have the right to directly implicate the family of a planetary governor with cult forces."
"I understand your urgency, but... I need evidence!"
With that, she turned back and continued writing something: "The conversation ends here, Lord Galahad, I have work to do."
Galahad was utterly helpless; he had tried his best, but this Inquisitor was simply very different from the Inquisitors he had known before.
"Let's go back."
He was powerless, and with heavy steps, he was the first to leave the room.
Emrys sighed; he had no right or status to change an Inquisitor's decision, so he could only follow Galahad away.
After the two left, Winnie stopped writing.
Gazing at the notebook filled with content, she subconsciously flipped to the first page, and in the depths of her light blue, cold eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible haze of distraction emerged.
Then, she reaffirmed her resolve, biting her lip lightly, as if speaking to herself, she murmured: "Teacher, I will not become a person like you. Never!"
On the first page of the notebook was a passage personally written by her mentor, Charles Gransoll.
"Every Inquisitor begins as a conservative, longing for purity and justice;
And the end of every Inquisitor is a ruthless heretic and an utterly blasphemous madman—Charles Gransoll, gifted to Winnie Winslet."
When he emerged from the dilapidated hotel, the tech-priest, known for his composure, couldn't help but curse the foolish and conservative Inquisitor in binary, seething with anger.
To be honest, Emrys had never seen a tech-priest so enraged.
Even when Jackal spoke disrespectfully and called him a Gear Boy, Magos Galahad hadn't been this upset, which showed how much resentment he harbored towards that Inquisitor.
Galahad swore to the Omnissiah that he truly wanted to grab the Inquisitor by her collar and loudly question her: 'Is there nothing but evidence in your head? Don't you know how to be flexible?'
But alas. He knew that if he actually did that, he would undoubtedly be met with a bolt round.
Actually, from a personal perspective, Galahad could understand the Inquisitor's cautious attitude.
After all, not all Inquisitors could be so decisive, nipping heresy in the bud with thunderous force before it spread on a large scale.
In fact, contrary to what many people imagine about Inquisitors...
Inquisitors nominally have no hierarchy, but there are indeed internal ranks, and newly appointed Inquisitors often don't have as much exaggerated power as imagined.
To be able to requisition the Astra Militarum or even the Imperial Navy with a single word is purely a dream.
Even the Department of the Interior and the Astra Militarum, no matter how foolish the Empire was, would not allow a newly recognized Inquisitor to wield such immense power.
This is a classic misconception.
Because not every Imperial Inquisitor is named Eisenhorn!
And Winnie Winslet, in Galahad's understanding, his biggest impression of her was that she was Charles Gransoll's direct disciple.
It was clear that Winnie Winslet was a newly appointed Inquisitor!
Even with Gransoll as her mentor, the power and influence she could wield were far inferior to his.
Newly appointed Inquisitors, under normal circumstances, usually do not have the authority to requisition any Imperial army without sufficient evidence.
It should be noted that the influence of an Inquisitor often depends on their personal reputation.
Inquisitors who abuse their power, don't know how to be discreet, and constantly talk about burning heretics are usually quickly executed by the Inquisition itself.
Therefore, personal reputation is quite important for an Inquisitor, after all, you can't expect the Empire, or even the various Planetary Governors, to trust an Inquisitor who constantly talks about burning heretics, can you?
Winnie Winslet lacked experience, and her personal influence was almost nonexistent.
If one were to speak of influence, unless she borrowed the name of her mentor, Gransoll, no Astra Militarum, Navy, or Astartes Chapter would bother with a newly appointed Inquisitor with no experience, unless there was 'conclusive evidence'.
But from their recent conversation, Galahad acutely noticed that Winnie Winslet was unwilling to leverage the influence of her mentor, Gransoll.
Finally, when Galahad had finished venting, Emrys asked with a hint of helplessness, "Magos Galahad, what should we do next?"
Galahad was silent for a moment, as if something had occurred to him, then suddenly stopped and turned to stare at Emrys.
Logically, Emrys shouldn't have been able to read 'malicious intent' from a tech-priest's expression.
But Magos Galahad's direct gaze made him feel a chilling draft on the back of his neck.
"Uh..."
Emrys was silent for a few seconds, then tentatively asked, "Magos Galahad, have you thought of a solution?"
"There is a way, but... it's quite dangerous." Galahad seemed a little hesitant, making a fierce internal choice, considering whether or not to speak it.
"If we can eliminate the cult in advance, I'm willing to take a little risk," Emrys replied without hesitation.
It wasn't that he wasn't afraid of death, but if the cult was allowed to develop, the risk would be even greater, and rather than waiting for death, it was better to fight back!
Besides, even if there really was a risk, at worst he could go hide in the Marvel universe for a few days.
"Are you truly willing?" Galahad stopped, as if seeing Emrys clearly for the first time, his already deep and hoarse voice suddenly becoming much more serious: "You must understand, this is not a joke. If you actually go through with this, the risk is not insignificant!"
However, facing Galahad's serious and questioning tone, Emrys' demeanor could be described as calm and composed.
He looked at the serious Magos Galahad, chuckled lightly, and said with a relaxed tone, "Magos, even if I don't do it, will there be no risk?"
When the nest is overturned, no egg remains intact.
Once the cult's forces invade the hive capital, tearing the material universe with evil rituals...
The power of the Chaos Gods from the Immaterium will pour out, and no matter what the final outcome is, or who achieves victory, the price will be the entire hive capital being utterly reduced to ruins!
Even, if Chaos and the Empire fight too fiercely, waking the Necrons sleeping in their tombs, then a three-way melee would likely... wash the entire world's surface with macro-cannons, and to describe it as 'not a blade of grass grows' would be conservative.
To prevent the terrifying events above from happening, Emrys decided that even if it meant taking risks, he had to control the scale of the cult as much as possible, trying not to let the war escalate.
Lest he awaken that group... of sleeping Necrons.
Upon witnessing Emrys' 'resolve', Galahad seemed somewhat shocked, even developing a hint of admiration: "I never imagined that you, born in the lower hive, could be so loyal to His Divine Majesty, the Emperor, that even after ten thousand years, glory still flows in your blood!"
He had initially believed that Emrys, being from the lower hive, could not possess such courage.
But now it needed correcting; though the youth came from the lower hive, his courage and his loyalty to His Divine Majesty, the Emperor, were enough to prove that the blood flowing in his veins had not betrayed the glory of ten thousand years ago, nor had it betrayed that great surname!
Loyalty, he was too loyal!
Galahad's gaze towards Emrys unconsciously contained a hint of fervor.
"Ah?"
Emrys was utterly bewildered, feeling uncomfortable all over from Galahad's 'fervent' gaze, as if being bitten by fleas.
What did he mean by: 'After ten thousand years, glory still flows in your blood'?
"No, it's nothing."
Galahad did not explain the meaning, but instead very stiffly changed the subject: "My idea is simple. She wants evidence, right? We'll give it to her."
"You mean for me to find the evidence?"
Emrys reacted quickly, immediately guessing Galahad's thoughts.
"Precisely. You will infiltrate the lower hive again and search for evidence of the Iron Crows gang's involvement with the cult."
Galahad nodded slightly, outlining the details of the plan: "This way, the Inquisitor will have ample evidence and reason to requisition Imperial troops."
"No problem, please leave it to me, Magos Galahad."
Emrys didn't hesitate for a moment, directly accepting this difficult task.
Coincidentally, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s 'Static Veil' was perfect for infiltration, only requiring a face scan; once worn, it could perfectly mimic the target's appearance.
"There's something I need to remind you of." Galahad, draped in his rust-red robe, said in a serious tone: "No matter what happens, you must protect your own safety, and you only have seven days. By then, whether you have evidence or not, you must immediately return to the middle-hive, understand?"
Emrys could understand the first point about safety, but the seven-day limit puzzled him: "Magos Galahad, why seven days?"
"Because, in seven days... it will be the 'Emperor's Ascension Day'."
Galahad gripped his mechanical staff, a cold glint in his eyes: "Galarion Hadley has announced that he will formally establish the successor to the next planetary governor on 'Emperor's Ascension Day'!"