Emperor's Bane

Chapter 134 Death of an Emperor ([-])
After the fall of heaven, the creatures of the mortal world have the possibility of longing for civilization.

The fate of the galaxy has been decided long before everything started. In the unimaginable years of your descendants, a catastrophe that can never be reproduced has already determined everything for the next tens of millions of years.

Fear, greed, indifference, jealousy, anger, stupidity, weakness, submission, deceit, disappointment, harshness, massacre, extermination, revenge...

The most brutal monarch ignited the nightmare and war that swept across the galaxy, and once this war begins, even the greatest wise man can't decide its end and ending, only to devour all crying mothers and children, only to burn All the peace and tranquility of the towns and fields can appease the endless greed of murder and massacre, the hateful twins.

And the twins will never really rest until all the ambitious are down or satisfied.

And the war will never really stop.

First, the soldiers, those soldiers who were bewitched by the so-called honor and mission, trembling in the trenches and wasteland, were torn to pieces by the gunfire without the slightest mercy.

Then the people, and the city, and the whole world, and the endless soul howling in the flames of war, the crime of solitude drives all wretched life till it itself falls in guilt mingled with stupidity and fear In the net: the ostensible victor wins, but at the cost of everything he has.

Its life, its responsibility, its kingdom, its people, its future.

It sacrificed, paid, and offered all of this with its own hands, and all it got was an empty throne, an empty galaxy, the empty pupils of its former followers full of hatred and bewilderment, and those The unquenchable rage in the breast of the truly noble.

It was afraid, it felt guilty, it escaped, and thus became the most despicable butcher, the most despicable villain, and the Milky Way finally came into the hands of the real noble.

Our era has begun.

True wisdom and grace have since become the masters of the galaxy. We rule ourselves in the splendor of a dream. In our thoughts, it is your unimaginable technology and power. The stars are just a few playthings at your fingertips. Thousands of galaxies are accompanied by our mood ups and downs or prosperity, or deserted.

But even we are not victorious against the greatest powers.

time.

too long.

It's been too long.

Do you know, from the moment of the end of the war that was enough to cause heaven to fall, until our vain dreams were completely torn into human-eating pieces, there was such a long period of time, a period of corrosion, a period of depravity.

In terms of the timekeeping methods of those of you who are young: that is 6000 million years, and for 6000 million years, we are the masters of everything we know, see, and interest.

6000 million years, with your barren experience and past, I'm afraid you can't imagine what kind of long journey it was.

6000 million years, [-] millennia.

Younger races like you, from just learning to walk to the first glimpse of the infinite beauty of the subspace, have made countless so-called progress, countless times of vendetta among each other, and countless times of ignorant strolling on the edge of self-destruction Going back again, all of this is just thirty thousand years.

After that, it took you twelve millennia from your first glimpse of the Warp to your use of it.

You have spread your footsteps to every corner of the galaxy by using those clumsy subspace technologies, swearing your supremacy in those barren waste hills, enjoying the triumph of being the so-called master of the galaxy, and then falling quickly , bleeding, falling apart...

All of the above, from the time you officially left your infancy, to the time when some of you fled back in embarrassment: all this happened within ten millennia.

In the end, you trembled in the ravages of the storm, embracing your ever-shrinking and degraded territory, allowing tyrants and religions to rise again, making disputes the main theme of your race.

Until now, it has suddenly reversed. Under the leadership of that... dreamer, you once again raised the former flag, eager to take back everything you own from the sea of ​​stars, and eager to snatch what did not belong to you again .

This is nothing more than what happened within a few thousand years.

Did you hear that?
Do you understand?
Take your so-called [the first year of AD] as a standard: Around 3 BC, your ancestors had just learned pottery and other crafts, gradually separated from the lowest class of beasts, and possessed Something called civilization.

Until now, in the 3th year AD, you have experienced the peak and fall of your race, and you are trying to make the last struggle: don't be troubled by the brilliant achievements in front of you, sad descendants, your one The leader is burning your destiny, burning your destiny that should be lingering, let it release the last spark.

All your history, all your pride, all your splendor, all your pain, all your joys and sorrows, your love and hatred... everything.

But in 6 years, what happened is fleeting.

It's just the newest [one-thousandth] in the long night from the end of that Heavenly War to the present.

You are not special, you are not unique, you are not like our race, you are the true chosen ones in the galaxy.

I have witnessed a thousand races like yours: from emerging, rising, exploring and dominating; to glorious, fallen, decayed and destroyed.

Do you consider yourself the overlord of the galaxy?
The galaxy has never lacked overlords, because careerists and delusions are like grasshoppers in summer, and they can never be killed cleanly.

You are not special, the Milky Way once had thousands of so-called overlords, and their so-called hegemony was nothing more than tens of thousands of years. The long river of time is enough to wash away everything in them.

But even so, you all have your own special features: the rise of every overlord is the cruelest fight, and countless races and civilizations have invested everything in the war across the galaxy, just for the illusory 1 Ten thousand years of kingship.

And every successful overlord has similar connotations.

They all have talent.

They all have luck.

They all have... The Emperor.

------

Emperor.

This is your title.

Of course, you can also call him the lord, leader, prophet, priest, leader, sage, genius, mad king...

All the titles and appearances are just false appearances, deceitful thoughts deliberately blurred and changed, and some means to cover up their monster-like nature.

The birth of the 【Emperor】was not a coincidence, it was an inevitable fate, the result of praying, a manifestation of ambition, and a harbinger of war and destruction.

You and I both know how chaotic and crazy, how dangerous and terrifying that empty kingdom called subspace is, but you and I have to admit that the chaotic, crazy and daunting God Paradise is another inexhaustible treasure.

The Void will not reject anything, the Void will not laugh at any delusion, as long as your prayer is large enough, firm enough, and long enough, the Void will respond, and will satisfy even your wildest ambitions.

The [Emperor] is the product of this kind of fairness and generosity.

When a race is lucky enough, strong enough, and ambitious enough, when they can slip through the traps of civilization, pass through the hurdles of history, break through the shackles of the home planet, and start their own conquest and exploration among the endless stars At this time, if the fire of hegemony in their hearts is strong enough at this time, they will start to fantasize, start to hope, start to pray, and start to yearn.

They will yearn for a great leader, a noble rider who can be trusted to follow and die for, a "greatest one" who can, will, and may burn himself for the supremacy of the race .

It can be a man or a woman, it can be an individual or an organization, it can be a sage or a tyrant.

Anything is possible.

As long as it can be as majestic as a lion, it can unite and rule a rising galaxy empire, so that infighting and disputes will not hinder the rise of the race.

As long as it is as cunning as a jackal, it can stand against countless rivals and sworn enemies, and its people will win brutal wars in every galaxy.

As long as it can be as ruthless as a spider, can not be disturbed by anything to correct and rational judgment, and become a living beacon of the purest hope and faith.

As long as it can do this, it will become the [Emperor] that everyone expects, submits to, and demands.

Such an existence, of course, is unattainable. The vast majority of races in this galaxy did not get their own emperor until the moment of their extinction. Sons of God, their subconscious fantasies and prayers will successfully make waves in the subspace, allowing countless beliefs to merge with the acquiescence of the void, and finally produce a different kind of god larva, and finally produce a god that comes to them. great will.

Ultimately gave birth to this race of...

【Emperor】.

And when the emperor appears, it will come among its own people, it will stand up when it is needed most, become the absolute leader and soul, and it will create the most magnificent plan to conquer the stars , it will attract the most outstanding people to prepare for a rainy day, of course, if it does not have enough followers, it will even rely on its own will to [create] a group.

Primarchs, or Custodians, whatever you want to call them.

But in any case, it will eventually successfully rise, conquer, and create a great performance that is eternally invincible in the eyes of mortals. Occasionally, it also needs to defeat emperors from other races to compete for the only spoils of war.

The galaxy itself.

In the end, the emperor will win, establish a great foundation, become the sole master of countless universes and people, and let his reputation be sung in every corner for thousands of years.

But it won't satisfy.

will never.

Every dominant race of the galaxy has a deep-rooted greed, and such greed is also reflected in the Emperor.

The greatest selfishness is selflessness.

It will desire more, it will pursue an immortal foundation, it will explore the endless sea of ​​stars, and it will hope that its own race will become the most special one that breaks the cycle of history, can escape the fate of decline and destruction, and bring hegemony and prosperity to a generation. One generation, passed down to the end of heat death.

Such a flame burns in the heart of every Emperor, and they will never be extinguished or a little less, and will always urge these greatest figures to continue to exhaust themselves, exhausting the entire galaxy for the infinite love of their own race in their hearts. everything of.

They firmly believe that their race will become the special one, they firmly believe that their attempts will end in success, and they are sure that their partners are the most reliable friends...

They won't stop.

Even if they knew from the beginning, what a terrifying and invincible god existed in the depths of the subspace.

Even if they will gradually discover that there are countless pioneers before them, they are equally powerful, intelligent, and determined, but they only leave the same bones.

Even if they witnessed it with their own eyes: the golden thrones piled up into mountains, discarded at will like the most humble garbage into a priceless hill, that is the ridicule of the gods, the declaration of destiny, every race, every emperor The end that even the Emperor could not escape.

But even so, they won't stop.

Not every emperor.

And their end.

From this, it is obvious.

Died of betrayal.

Died in strife.

Died of decadence.

Die of the Fall.

die of decay.

Die alone.

……

There are many ways to die.

The meaning of death is eternal.

When the orphan of the last overlord swallowed his last breath in endless despair and loneliness, perhaps the emperor who had placed their infinite trust and expectations in the past, was left with nothing but wandering in the eternal void. , the only sigh.

Everything has come to an end, the glory and suffering of thousands of years does not need to end vigorously, only a sigh is enough.

Until the end, there will only be an ordinary abandoned throne on the golden barren mountain, as the last echo of a conquest, a hegemony and a challenge.

No one can succeed.

Every challenge is just a struggle.

The rise, glory and decline of thousands of years are just a pastime for the gods to make fun of.

When the overlord falls, it only takes a few short thousand years, and the achievements it is proud of and thinks can be passed on to the world will be washed clean without the slightest trace.

Until the galaxy is silent again.

Until ambition swells again.

Until the next emperor came before the mountain of golden thrones.

Start another cycle.

never ends.

------

never ends.

When Morgan looked at the [Warmaster] sleeping peacefully in her arms, her heart echoed the last words of the Eldar.

She was thinking about something, thinking very calmly, those seemingly magnificent and seemingly hopeless futures did not disturb her thoughts and calmness at all, Ms. Spider just stroked her pet slowly: Obviously, the past few months , it was raised very well by those mortal servants, and even gained a lot of weight.

Emperor...

She murmured softly.

Morgan didn't fully believe the words of the Eldar. After all, none of the words spoken by the alien is worthy of complete trust. What's more, there are some slight omissions in its words. Of course, these omissions may not be caused by lies , but its deep-seated, pathetic arrogance.

Morgan didn't believe it all, nor didn't she believe it. She just figured out some thoughts in the most rational way of thinking, and then recorded them in her memory as a possibility in the future.

But there was one thing Morgan was sure the Eldar was wrong about.

Her creator, the Emperor of Humanity, was not that kind of [Emperor].

She even pointed it out to her face, and the Spirit Race also generously admitted: It admits that even among the emperors, there are special individuals. The most unique emperor.

Of course, this can't change anything, he will still walk on that path, trying to snatch the future of the race from the hands of gods and destiny.

That would be the saddest struggle without hope and suspense.

At least, in the knowledge and imagination of this Eldar, it can't think of any way, or any possibility, that Morgan's creator can win.

But Morgan didn't care about that.

She was just thinking: If most of the words of this spirit race are credible, if Ran Dan, a powerful alien civilization that has risen rapidly in a short period of time, and can even fight fiercely with deep-rooted human beings for so long, is it really true? Because they have an 【Emperor】.

If the [Emperor] of Randan Empire really exists, and in this war, stand on her opposite side.

Then its soul...

Is it good for her?
And is it possible for her to spy on certain rules and secrets in the subspace that cannot be directly observed?

A different kind of longing quietly took root in Morgan's heart. Ms. Spider did not have the slightest bit of pity or fear for this vicious alien. She was not even afraid that her hunting would be noticed by others, and she was also not afraid of whether her hunting would be will fail.

After all, she has a powerful blood brother with his legion, doesn't she?
Thinking of this, Morgan heard footsteps from far to near outside her room, and she recognized that the approaching soul came from Coswayne.

The Lion's favorite knocked at the door, as if addressing a nobler man than himself.

"Your Excellency wishes to see you, Ms. Morgan."

【What's up? 】

"The Legion No. 18, and their Primarch Vulkan, have arrived."

"My lord now...needs your calmness and..."

"Talk."

(End of this chapter)