The interior of the command sanctum within Stone Fortress was dimly lit. The primary light source was the massive holographic projection device at the center. Blue-and-white light rose from the projection platform, casting complex star charts and streams of data onto the domed ceiling. As the data flowed, the predictions shifted accordingly. The flickering light threw dancing shadows across the surfaces of the ancient stone pillars.
The reliefs depicting the story of Caliban seemed almost alive, their expressions changing with the interplay of light and shadow.
Crew members and servants carried out their duties at their stations. They wore the dark uniforms distinctive of the Dark Angels, the Chapter's emblem embroidered on their chests. Their steps were hurried yet orderly. Occasionally, maintenance workers passed by with awkward, slow gaits.
The semi-mechanized servants were covered in tubes, their mechanical eyes glowing with a dull red light. A faint hissing sound came from the hydraulic systems that maintained their balance as they walked. They carried various repair tools and were inspecting equipment that had just been fixed.
Datch had repaired most of the fortress with the Golden Hammer, but some sections still required manual repairs or part replacements.
At that moment, several Dark Angels leaders formed a semicircle around Lion. They had overheard Lion speaking with the nameless one and now wore expectant expressions. They knew the power of the nameless one well. No matter what schemes Vashtorr and Abaddon might devise, their plans were doomed to fail the moment the nameless one intervened.
A familiar mission screen appeared once more in Datch's vision.
[Mission: Stop the evil conspiracy of Abaddon and Vashtorr. Although Abaddon and Vashtorr had been repelled after invading the stone fortress, they had stolen the Tuchulcha Engine left behind by the Old Ones, indicating they were plotting something on a massive scale. Lion Johnson hopes that you will intervene to thwart their evil scheme and prevent the crisis facing the Imperium of Man from escalating further.]
[Mission Rewards: 5,000 Experience Points, 5,000 Points, +1,500 Reputation, Puppet Ray Gun ×1]
Datch's gaze lingered on the final line of the text. As he considered it, the item's detail page automatically opened.
[Item: Puppet Ray Gun] Effect: When the beam fired from this gun strikes a target, the target instantly transforms into a perfect replica doll of itself.
[Comment: "Ever since I got this gun, the number of figures in my display case has been steadily increasing."]
Datch was mildly surprised by the prop's effect. This gun was truly a blessing for figure collectors. Just point and shoot at whatever you like, and turn it into a figure. Too bad, Trazyn. The title of the galaxy's collector is mine now.
Datch closed the item window and nodded to Lion. "Yes, great Imperial General. I will go stop the enemy's evil conspiracy."
After accepting the mission, Datch left the command sanctum without another word. Follow the minimap and proceed to the next objective: gather information related to Abaddon and Vashtorr.
The Dark Angels leaders watched the nameless man depart with eyes full of expectation and relief. Once the nameless one acted, traitors and heretics like Abaddon or Vashtorr would be unable to so much as hop about like autumn locusts for more than a few days.
Lion looked at his child and felt a surge of jealousy.
Hey, I'm your genetic father!! Don't look at the nameless one with the same trusting eyes you give your father!
...
Datch exited the command sanctum and slipped through the winding corridors toward the dungeon. Every Imperial official he passed stopped their work, bowed respectfully, and offered the highest formal greetings. Datch ignored the NPCs and walked straight ahead.
Occasionally he would pause to kick over supply crates along the way and take the money or handicrafts inside. The servo-priests and staff responsible for logistics and transport stared in complete bewilderment at the ransacked crates.
Please stop persecuting the poor laborers, we beg you!
It is recommended that you proceed directly to the Deathwing armory. It contains many fine relics from the Dark Age of Technology.
Datch glided through the vast fortress, evading numerous guards, until he finally reached the dark, cold dungeon. Dim light filtered down from the ceiling, illuminating only the central passage while the cells sank into deep shadow. Many prisoners were held there, all cowering silently in the darkness.
Datch passed through the cells and arrived at the interrogation chamber.
The moment he reached the door, he heard Asmodai's distinctive, heated, interrogative voice. "Will you talk, or won't you?!"
"I didn't expect your bones to be this sturdy. Keep enduring."
"Should I speak? Shouldn't I speak? Should I speak? Shouldn't I speak?"
Datch stepped inside and clicked his tongue at the sight before him, genuinely impressed by the game's realism.
What a bloody scene. I can't believe there's no censorship at all.
In the dim light, a blood-soaked prisoner was chained to the torture rack. His body was mangled beyond recognition, his face twisted in agony. A golden exclamation mark floated above his head, marking him as an important story NPC.
Notably, this prisoner was a Fallen Angel who had sworn allegiance to the Black Legion. The returning Lion only pardoned those descendants who had remained untainted by Chaos and loyal to humanity. Those who had embraced Chaos, stood against mankind, and committed grave crimes received no forgiveness.
Asmodai stood before the prisoners holding a nerve-toxin-coated scalpel, continuing the interrogation. Several Dark Angels warriors stood nearby, their faces filled with hesitation and unease. They had tried to step forward and stop him, but Asmodai's demonic visage made them hesitate. They could only stand there helplessly and watch.
"Will you talk or won't you?! Will you talk or won't you?!"
Asmodai slowly sliced into the prisoner's body with the toxin-laced blade. The Fallen Angel writhed in pain, letting out choked, sobbing cries.
Datch walked over and cut Asmodai off. "Let me handle this."
Asmodai snapped his head around, eyes bloodshot and face contorted with rage. He wanted to see which fool dared interfere with the punishment of these detestable traitors.
The instant Asmodai recognized the nameless man, his eyes cleared and his arrogant tone instantly shifted to one of profound respect. "Honored Nameless One… Do you wish to punish these abominable traitors?"
"However, I alone am sufficient here. Do not concern yourself. I will make him reveal everything he knows."
Datch ignored him, walked straight to the rack, and ripped the gag from the Fallen Angel's mouth.
The moment the restraints came off, the Fallen Angel screamed in pain, spat bloody phlegm onto the floor, and began cursing loudly.
"They tortured me all night, constantly asking if I would talk! Why didn't they just ask me first?!"
"You gagged my mouth without asking anything, kept torturing me, and then asked if I would talk!" "What do you want me to say?! What am I supposed to say?!"
Datch turned and gave Asmodai a surprised look.
Oh no… This isn't interrogation. You're just trying to make him suffer.
It was no wonder that after such prolonged "interrogations," only two Fallen Angels had ever repented. Perhaps the gag hadn't been secured properly, and when the victim shouted "I am guilty," they had no choice but to repent. Those who couldn't repent simply couldn't form the words.
Asmodai felt Datch's gaze but showed no embarrassment. Instead, he declared confidently: "Traitor, I knew you wouldn't talk!"
"First I'll torture you. When you can't endure it any longer, you'll talk on your own!"
The Fallen Angel trembled with fury and spat bloody phlegm at Asmodai's feet. "Hah… How shameless can you be?"
Datch looked away. He had no interest in listening to NPCs argue. He simply pulled the "Truth Spray" directly from his inventory.
[Prop: Truth Spray] Effect: When sprayed on a target, they can only speak the truth for a period of time. No matter how hard they try, they cannot lie.
Review: "Thanks to this wonderful gadget, His Majesty the Emperor no longer has to worry about me being deceived by Tzeentch!"
When the Fallen Angel saw the bottle in Datch's hand, unease flashed in his eyes.
The nameless one's reputation had long since spread throughout the Warp and the entire forces of Chaos. Everyone knew the gods had all been defeated by him and now hid deep in the dimensions, too afraid to appear. Daemons fled the moment they sensed him approaching, terrified of being captured, punished, transformed into his likeness, and utterly corrupted.
Skarbrand and the Masque were classic examples. They had been completely turned into existences, unable to recognize even their former masters.
The Fallen Angel's throat bobbed. He gritted his teeth and shouted: "Nameless one! My will is beyond your imagination! Don't waste your time. Even if you torture me to the brink of death, I will tell you nothing!"
Datch ignored the outburst, calmly shook the bottle, and sprayed the white mist directly into the NPC's face.
Poof— White vapor enveloped the Fallen Angel's head. When it cleared, he opened his eyes with a mocking expression.
That's it? That was supposed to be terrible torture?
"Tell me more about yourself," Datch asked calmly.
The Fallen Angel almost laughed.
What is this? You want me to introduce myself? Is this a social event? Are you expecting a detailed self-introduction here?
The Chaos Space Marine tried to speak defiant words to show his unbreakable will and refusal to submit to the Corpse Emperor's demonic hand. Terrifyingly, his mouth instead spilled out a stream of uncontrolled, disjointed words.
"My name is Turil. I was born on Caliban. When Lion Johnson launched his attack on Caliban, I was a new recruit of the Dark Angels."
"After Caliban was destroyed, I joined the forces of Chaos. I now serve as a squad leader in the Angels of Vengeance warband."
"My weapons are a cursed chainsword and a bolter. The chainsword carries a Warp blessing…"
"The warband is based at the edge of the Eye of Terror. Their main operating area is…"
"..."
"Shut up! Stop talking! Please, stop!!"
Turil screamed inside his own mind, but his mouth continued betraying him, revealing everything he knew.
Asmodai and the other Dark Angels stared in stunned silence, eyes wide.
What…? How… how did he do that??
It was astonishing that a nameless outsider could make a traitor give such a detailed self-introduction. Asmodai was beginning to suffer an existential crisis. He had spent the entire night using every torture method imaginable on this man and gotten nothing. The nameless one had simply sprayed him once, and the traitor had spilled every secret and revealed his full identity.
Ignoring the shocked NPCs, Datch continued. "How much do you know about Abaddon and Vashtorr's plan?"
Turil screamed internally.
Don't answer! Don't answer! Absolutely do not answer!! For the gods, for the great Despoiler, stop talking!
But his mouth betrayed him once more. "I only know part of it. Another comrade, Sarosh, knows far more than I do."
"He was also captured by you and is being held in the cell next to mine."
"He is our adjutant and has attended many important meetings. He should know a great deal of internal information."
The surrounding Dark Angels were even more dumbfounded. This man had not only confessed his own crimes but had also thoroughly betrayed his comrade.
Despair filled Turil's eyes. He hadn't wanted to say any of it—why had this happened?!
The nameless ones were truly terrifying.
Datch turned to Asmodai. "Bring the Sarosh he mentioned."
Asmodai nodded and left with his subordinates. Less than a minute later, he dragged in a blood-covered Chaos Space Marine and threw him to the floor. "That's the one!"
Datch pointed at the new prisoner and asked Turil, "Him?"
Turil involuntarily answered, "Ah… yes, that's him."
He then began providing detailed information about the Chaos Space Marine. "His name is Sarosh. He outranks me and has attended two strategic meetings called by Abaddon. He should know about Vashtorr and the Tuchulcha Engine."
"He is a follower of the God of Pleasure—very cunning and skilled in lies and deception. He once tricked three daemons into killing each other."
The wounded Sarosh stared with wide eyes, chest tightening. He watched his comrade spill information like beans pouring from a bamboo tube and felt both shock and fury.
He could understand if they had broken under Dark Angels torture. Selling information was one thing. But revealing his devotion to the God of Pleasure and his personal specialties? That was far too much detail. Even a dishonest person wouldn't be this shameless!
"Turil… you will be cursed by the gods." Sarosh roared in rage, his voice echoing through the small chamber.
Turil cried out in despair. "No, Sarosh! I had no choice!"
"I don't want to say it, but my body won't obey me. The nameless one's methods are too strange."
"Shameless, despicable bastard!!" Sarosh refused to listen to excuses. He glared at Turil with pure hatred, wanting nothing more than to tear him apart.
Until the nameless one stepped in front of him and blocked his view.
"Give up on getting any information from me."
Sarosh gritted his teeth and swore silently. No matter what methods were used, he would endure to the end. He would not become a coward like Turil. Besides, he was blessed by the God of Pleasure—the more he suffered, the more pleasure he felt. You want information from me? Try again in your next life.
Datch took out the Truth Spray and used it on Sarosh.
It felt like being doused with cold water. Sarosh's face showed confusion.
That's it? I thought that was supposed to be terrible torture!
"How much do you know about Abaddon and Vashtorr's plan?" Datch asked.
Sarosh had been about to say "I know nothing."
Instead, the words that came out were: "I have complete knowledge of the plan. Vashtorr needs to collect three ancient relics: the Heart of Plague, the Tuchulcha Engine, and the Ouroboros."
"He has already obtained the Heart of Plague and the Ouroboros. Now that he has the Tuchulcha Engine as well, they will assemble them in the Idolatros System and claim the ancient relics left behind by the Old Ones."
Asmodai and the Dark Angels widened their eyes once more. The prisoners had surrendered without resistance.
Despair filled Sarosh's eyes. He finally understood what Turil had gone through. He had wanted to protect the information at all costs, but he simply couldn't stop himself. When asked, he had nearly blurted out the color of underwear he usually wore and how he flirted with his comrades.
Fortunately, the nameless one had only asked about Abaddon and Vashtorr. Nothing else. If someone publicly claimed that a Succubus had ordered him to spank his own rear and arch his back more… He would rather commit suicide than endure that humiliation.
Having obtained the necessary information, Datch put away the Truth Spray, ignored the two desperate prisoners, and left the dungeon. Follow the on-screen instructions to complete the next step of the mission.
...
Countless Chaos warships and ominous arks drifted through.
On the bridge of the flagship Soul of Vengeance, Abaddon stood before the great viewport. He gazed at the Dissonance Engine that was taking shape outside, an excited expression on his face.
The three relics left by the ancients—the Heart of Plague, the Tuchulcha Engine, and the Ouroboros—were being combined. Fragments gathered from across the entire Milky Way were drawn by an invisible force and merging into the Dissonance Engine.
A satisfied smile appeared on Abaddon's savage face. The three sacred relics, together with countless fragments, were forming the Dissonance Engine. It was said to be the machine the ancients had used to create the Webway—a device capable of tearing open the boundary between reality and the Warp.
The Emperor had once poured all his efforts into developing the web of the internet, yet in the end he had failed completely. Now it seemed that only someone with his talent and ambition could truly manage such an enterprise.
The Chaos Webway also had to be considered. With the Dissonance Engine, one could unlock the mountain of treasures left by the ancient saints.
Abaddon gripped the Talon of Horus tightly, madness gleaming in his eyes.