This is the bonus chapter for reaching 450 Powerstones.
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Deep within the Warp, a subtle transformation was taking place within Lucian's energy body.
If his previous absorption of the players' emotions was like a starving ghost swallowing whole any food it could find, then right now, he was carefully savoring the emotional fluctuations transmitting from the Crimson Dawn base.
Hope, compassion, a sense of responsibility, trust between comrades, righteous anger toward injustice, and the unyielding resolve to change the world... These emotions were as staggeringly rare as oxygen in a vacuum within the Warhammer universe. Yet, at this moment, they were continuously swelling within the hearts of these player leaders, merging into a crystal-clear stream that bypassed the system's safety filters and flowed directly into Lucian's energy core.
"Mmm..." Lucian let out a sigh of profound satisfaction. The surface of his energy body shimmered with a warm, golden-red luster.
He was reminded of two types of services he had experienced at massage parlors in his past life. One was a basic foot bath that only relieved physical fatigue in the legs. The other was a full-body essential oil SPA, where every single cell from the top of the head to the tips of the toes experienced total relaxation. Previously, absorbing negative emotions like fear, greed, and wrath was just like the foot bath—useful, but strictly limited to the absolute basic function of replenishing energy.
But now, these positive emotions...
"It's like getting ten premium hydrotherapy sessions with a complimentary psychological counseling package thrown in." Lucian's energy body stretched out, rolling over in the void of the Warp with the lazy posture of a Garfield cat basking in the sun. He gazed at the physical projection of Zeke's stunned face, looking at those prominent, dark-gold words on the shop interface: [Gene-Seed Selection].
"Figured out this isn't just a game? Good," Lucian muttered to himself. "You can't wake a person who is pretending to be asleep. But someone who wakes up on their own... they are the only ones truly qualified to choose their path."
He recalled his own extreme caution when he first awakened, too afraid to absorb any emotions tainted by the Chaos Gods, hiding behind the system to secretly grow, terrified of attracting the attention of any higher entities. But now, his mindset had fundamentally shifted.
"If the four Chaos Gods can elevate their own Champions, why can't I?" Lucian mused. "If Horus could be corrupted by Chaos, why can't Zeke walk a different path? The moment you truly make your choice... I will pour a massive reserve of fuel onto your spark to set the galaxy ablaze."
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Real universe, Crimson Dawn Base.
The air seemed to freeze solid. Zeke stared unblinkingly at those words on the shop interface. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but no sound came out.
Gene-Seed. Astartes. Space Marine.
He knew all too well what these terms represented in the Warhammer community. The Imperium of Man's most elite superhuman warriors, living bio-weapons personally designed by the Emperor, the sharpened blades of the Great Crusade, and the tragic brothers who slaughtered one another during the Horus Heresy.
And now... for just one million Imperial Coins, he could secure the chance to become one?
"This..." Zeke finally found his voice, though it was terrifyingly hoarse. "What does this mean?"
He raised his head to look at his comrades around the table. Schrödinger Bro, Tax Bro, Cogboy, White Scars... everyone wore an incredibly calm expression. They clearly already knew what the shop upgrade would unlock.
"It means exactly what it says," Cogboy pointed out. "One million Imperial Coins unlocks the right to select a Gene-Seed. But look closely at the fine print." He pointed at the line of small text. "It clearly states it only provides the selection of a Legion's Gene-Seed and does not include the subsequent implantation surgeries."
"What does that mean?" Zeke pressed.
"It means you spend a million, and you only get... a seed," Cogboy said, his tone turning dead serious. "As for how to make that seed sprout and grow inside your body, ultimately transforming you into an Astartes... that's going to require significantly more Imperial Coins, an insane amount of resources, and... a complete set of augmentation surgery equipment and procedural protocols." Pulling up his own system memo, densely packed with data scraped together from various channels, he continued, "According to the lore of the Warhammer 30K era, a complete Astartes augmentation process consists of nineteen major organ implantation phases. From the Secondary Heart, the Ossmodula, and the Biscopea, all the way to the Black Carapace, the Preomnor, and the Progenoid Glands... Every single organ requires highly specialized equipment for surgical implantation, strict post-op recovery periods, and highly specific hormonal and nutrient therapies to sustain them. Simply put, one million Imperial Coins is just buying you an entry ticket. To truly become an Astartes, the subsequent investments could easily equal this amount, or potentially require another one to two million more."
The conference room fell absolutely silent. One million was already an astronomical figure. The follow-up surgical costs...
Zeke took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He looked toward Schrödinger Bro. "So the reason you guys had me transfer that one point eight million into my personal account... was so I'd be eligible to buy this qualification to become a Space Marine?"
Schrödinger Bro nodded. "Yes, but it's more than just that." He stood up and walked over to the rock wall where a crude, hand-drawn map of Aurelian IV hung, charted by the players after their scouting missions over the last few days. "Zeke, look here," he said, tracing a finger across the map. "This is our base, nestled deep in the Redblaze Wasteland, a lawless buffer zone. One hundred and fifty kilometers to the east is Red Town, that man-eating hellhole White Scars just described. Two hundred kilometers to the southeast is Kent Hive, a massive mining hub for the Aru Group garrisoned by at least five thousand regular troops, complete with tanks and mechs. Three hundred kilometers to the north is the Aru City Hive Zone, home to five hundred and fifty million people and the headquarters of the Aru Pharmaceutical Group." His finger finally tapped on a region heavily marked in red. "And right here... is the industrial district. The place where Chaos has already invaded. The four factions are locked in a bitter struggle, but everyone knows perfectly well that they won't be able to hold the line. Do you know what that means?"
Zeke remained quiet for a few seconds before slowly answering, "It means... Aurelian IV is sliding right into the abyss. If the Chaos invasion spirals out of control, the absolute best-case scenario is the Planetary Governor calling down an Exterminatus. Orbital bombardment, glassing the planet's surface, and taking tens of billions of lives with it. But if Chaos wins..." He paused. "...Then it becomes a second Davin. The entire planet turns into a daemon playground."
"Exactly," Schrödinger Bro replied, his voice calm, yet every syllable carried a crushing weight. "And we—five thousand players and over two thousand laborers—are as insignificant as ants in a world that's on the verge of total collapse." He walked back to the table, bracing both hands against the rough stone surface, leaning forward to stare directly into Zeke's eyes. "Take our time scaling up? Play it safe and climb the tech tree? By the time we roll our very first Leman Russ tank off the assembly line, Chaos might have already swallowed half the planet. By the time we save up enough Imperial Coins to give everyone a Tier-III physical enhancement, the orbital lances of an Exterminatus fleet might already be locked onto our coordinates."
Tax Bro chimed in at that moment, a rare, piercing sharpness cutting through his normally goofy and honest features. "Chapter Master, we've sat in the lockups of the industrial district, taken the lashings, and been sliced open and studied like lab rats. We know exactly what happens to the weak in this universe. You either die strapped to a laboratory table, drop dead in a mining pit, or get chewed up in the jaws of a Chaos daemon. I refuse to be weak anymore." He clenched his fists tight.
"Neither do I."
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Next Goal = 600 Powerstones.