Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 849 Rising from the Blood...
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For warriors and psykers like Mephisto, this moment is almost an impossible one.

His gaze was a gaze that was far more than just a gaze.

It is the light that illuminates hidden places, and the sword that points to the soul. Mephisto's subtle perception of the souls and bodies of others will unlock his hidden secrets through his gaze.

His eyes, through his power, can peel away any disguise or illusion, reaching the naked essence of the soul beneath, thus allowing Mephisto to see through the essence of all demonic schemes and tricks.

Whether good or bad, something should be discovered.

But when he first gazed at it, Mephisto found that he "couldn't see anything."

Even if some novice think tanks like Anteros were involved, they might have dismissed this as normal and let it pass by lightly.

But who exactly is Mephisto?
He has memories of his time as Callistarius, who was buried under a mausoleum made of massive stone ruins, enduring the torment of Black Fury alone; and he also watched as Belisarius Caul's technology was used to tear him apart so that he could eventually cross the Rubicon and become a Proto-Forged Space Marine. Before that, his soul was summoned by a revelation, possibly from Sangilis, to a place where time and space were more meaningless, to be tested and to make choices.

Those times were almost always accompanied by noise, noise from the depths of the warp abyss.

Mephisto knew he couldn't afford to listen to their clamor, but even so, he understood that no matter how noisy they were, they were always an option for him: he could preserve his great soul, free from the suspicion of his brothers, and soar freely in the highest heavens, looking down as the darkness, now free from his confinement, devoured all the Holy Blood Angels, and the Crimson Ghouls would once again scatter slaughter, blood, and hunger across every world that their ships could reach.

Of course, it's not to say there are no peaceful times. If he wanted, he had believed that the cursed black angel, guided by someone he thought was Saint Gilles, could give him a near-time-stopping experience when his soul departed. At that time, the world was peaceful, and he, Mephisto, was almost omnipotent.

He can slay a great demon with a single roar, whether it comes from the Garden, the Silver Palace, or elsewhere. He can bring time to a near standstill, spending almost an eternity within it to do whatever he wants, including to other people and things. No one will be aware of what he is doing, not even his think tank companions.

The reason he, so powerful, did not bring the dead back to life was not because he believed he couldn't, but because the angry shouts of his ever-vigilant companions and friends echoed in his ears: throughout the vast universe, demons roam everywhere. But among them, none is more insidious and vicious than that astonishing power capable of turning the world upside down.

as well as……

“We usually summarize this situation with another saying, such as, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’”

“That’s not entirely accurate.” Then Mephisto realized he had blurted out the answer. He gripped his sword Vitalus and turned to face the being that had appeared behind him.

It wasn't the unfamiliar Space Marine he had just encountered on Sabathus, nor was it the Crimson Angel he had seen many times during his warp soul journeys, the past stories of Baal, or any form related to angels.

It is difficult for think tanks to describe what they see using any known words, texts, or even imagination.

However, before his will collapsed, "that being" quickly shrank into a head, two arms, a body, and two legs.

“That will make the conversation much easier.” The other person nodded. “Reckless, how reckless and impetuous Mephisto, after defeating Black Fury, reborn, and wielding such power, you still let pride control you. You just rashly made eye contact with someone you didn’t know at all.”

“I didn’t! I constantly remind myself to avoid being taken advantage of by any chaos.” Morpheus immediately retorted anxiously, like a child who had been denied, while realizing that his inability to control his mouth was really wrong.

Why was he so eager to prove himself to this person?

"Uh, it is indeed very slight," the other person said, "but it definitely exists. I wouldn't lie about that, would I?"

Mephiston then realized that they had unknowingly stepped onto the endless, red, radiant desert of Bavei. The sand on the tops of the dunes sank down due to his weight, creating an incredibly realistic texture.

Instead, he smiled.

"This isn't real. I experienced these things when I died in the original Forged, and they were just as realistic. You can't fool me in the same way."

The other party seemed somewhat troubled.

“You see, this is the problem that arises when you insist on creating new experimental subjects yourself. His cognitive circuits are too dependent on path, and you can’t start over.”

"Who are you talking to?" Mephisto realized then that the other person hadn't seemed to be talking to him from the beginning.

Blood gushed out from the bottom of the sand dune beside him like a spring, forming a crimson vortex that foamed at the bottom. As this blood vortex continued to devour the sand-formed banks, it eventually became a circular lake of blood large enough for a giant several meters tall to emerge from.

"Sorry, it will take a little extra time to get here from Crystal Land."

Rising slowly from the suddenly appearing lake of blood was a humanoid figure clad in golden armor. He possessed the most breathtakingly flawless appearance, with golden hair cascading down his cheeks like soft, golden threads. His aura was extraordinary yet so approachable and warm. As he took his first step out of the lake of blood, his pure white wings unfurled in the air like fireworks. They trembled gently twice, like a newly blossoming white flower bud shaking off dew, removing the blood droplets that clung to it.

A fresh and intoxicating scent wafted from him, gently enveloping Mephisto, just as he had seen before.

"Lord Saint Gilles...this is impossible..."

An indescribable sadness and bitterness once again appeared on the other person's face.

“It is impossible. I cannot be him. Saint Gilles is dead, vanished, as I told you, the prisoner of the black angel, Mephisto.”

“Anyway, they’ll all assume you are here.” The other being smiled. “It’s good that the conversation can continue. You still need to get back, right?”

“Indeed.” The being with the Primarch’s face nodded. “You understand… Even I cannot stop fate from taking its course, regardless of its power… In order to distract it and slow it down, I must keep rolling the dice with it…”

"Of course, betting with fate is an old trick, but as long as it works."

"Is it alright for us to talk about these things in front of him?" The Primarch-like being pointed at Mephisto.

“Neo… Rice talked about these things quite a bit in front of the lab tanks back in the day. We can just erase that memory before we let him leave.” The first person said in a declarative tone, “That cold-blooded Astartes just killed failed experiments right in front of the other ones. See, there was no problem.”

For some reason, this tone, devoid of any judgment, made Mephisto clench his heart, and the immense sorrow made it difficult for him to breathe.

“There’s still a problem. Even someone like Sigismund was affected by this until the end of his duty, until Dorn gave him a new lease on life.”

“But it’s obvious you don’t want them to follow the path Dorn took for Sigismund, right?”

The first being spoke to the being that seemed to be Saint Gilles reborn.

“That’s one path, but it’s not what I want,” the angelic being shook his head, his golden hair rustling softly as he moved. “The problem is in a more fundamental place… we can’t take the risk, and besides, I know you do have other ways, don’t you?”

“Yes, there is,” the first person said. “But you shouldn’t be talking to me here at all, unless it’s an accident of this magnitude. Oh, you’re a madman, as expected of you. You orchestrated an accident that caused two universes to collide, just to see me directly.”

“Who told Peturabo to hide ‘you’ so well? If it were any other time, I wouldn’t be able to talk to you like this.” The angelic being said calmly, “And He has come too. His nature makes it even more difficult for Him to be certain of or share any moment of ‘you’ with anyone. I guess right now, either Peturabo or He already knows that I orchestrated this.”

"Was your son, Long Aotian, coming here also part of your plan? It doesn't seem like it. I haven't seen many clues from your scheme."

Mephisto found the first person pointing at him rudely, but the Great Think Tank found himself feeling no anger at all, only a deep sense of grievance, like a child standing next to adults discussing matters who had been suddenly mentioned.

“No.” The angelic presence denied again, “But since I happen to be in the living room of the Crystal Maze and see a suitable candidate carrying out a plan against Mephisto… with the timing, location, and people all in place, it would be a waste not to take advantage of the situation.”

"The greatest con artists never tell a completely false story, huh?"

"The greatest con artists only tell nine truths and one lie."

The two looked at each other, and from Mephisto's perspective, they seemed to be laughing, but it also seemed more like they had made a deal.

"The conclusion of 'The Name of Magnus' and 'The Body of Magnus'; the planning for the Third Army and the Sixth Ring; and the manpower clues that Angron Petra needs; the beginning and end of Mortalian's activities in the Warp? Hmm?"

"Black Fury and Thirst?"

"choose one."

"That's too stingy. I have so many things to do for you."

"Able people should do more work."

"Are the others really doing anything? Especially considering that you guys in the Misty Starfield seem to have only been farming, trading, and even recruiting aliens."

"Conrad Coz and your other brothers are in charge of dealing with all the monsters and demons on the Unbreakable Crusade, the Terra Crusade, and the Plague. The one led by Robert Guilliman is no easier to deal with than this. They might even have to face a situation with so many possibilities that I find it troublesome. If it weren't for Conrad's powerful abilities, it would be impossible to find the closest path to the right one so quickly."

“That’s true.” The angelic being agreed. “Conrad’s ‘prophetic’ abilities have always been the best and clearest, perhaps because his ‘prophecies’ are the closest to the truth.”

"He's practically a god of experimentation and formula verification. Although few of his sons inherited this talent, it would be a miracle if a second person with this talent appeared. So, you see, nobody's idle."

"What about the restoration of M?"

“He died even more horribly than ‘Saint Gilles’, there’s no hope. But some of his offspring have survived to this day as the Sons of Dorne, and the Destiny Steel was planning to recruit from Carrick.”

“I understand.” The angelic being nodded. “The altered fate of ‘hybrids’ in this matter will allow things to happen naturally, which is the most seamless and least likely to cause problems.”

"Indeed. So what's your choice?"

"Black Fury".

"Not choosing Bloodthirst?"

"Old rivals are much easier to deal with than enemies lurking in your heart."

“Ha! It seems the entanglement will continue. But that’s fine, as you said, I also prefer facing traditional opponents.” The first person nodded. “The limit of cosmic collision is approaching, and there is one last thing before that.”

He then pointed to Mephisto.

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Can't you handle it? Just look away before eye contact."

"Sure. But when I looked at it, my last thought was, 'Wow, I wonder if this Mephisto can really stop time and then check what's inside everyone's head!'"

“...I understand, so that’s why…”

“Unfortunately, a cycle has been completed. Mephisto, no matter what, is trying to take a look at the essence of ‘me,’” the first person said. “The simplest way is…”

“Let’s not remove his existence,” the angelic being hurriedly said. “With the Great Rift open and psionic energy leaking and contaminating everywhere, Dante desperately needs a deputy like Mephisto. Who knows how many years it will take to cultivate another Mephisto.”

"Who said I was going to delete them?" The first person seemed to laugh again. "You really care about them."

"They are sin and salvation." That sorrowful and bitter feeling touched Mephisto again, so tender that it made him want to cry.

"So... since we're going to erase the memories anyway, why not fill the gaps with something? We can't just lie about everything, right?"

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"The Ramizane brothers, sent by the 'Silver Skull' chapter to the Carlosini merchant ronin dynasty as members of a special operations team?"

The Holy Blood Grand Think Tank withdrew his Soul-Seizing Thought and took another look at the "Astartes" before him.

"Is the boy in your arms a think tank candidate you found for your team?"

Ramizan blinked: What's going on? Mephisto mistook the Silver Skull for someone else? He has a connection with the Silver Skull? Giving me a way out? Huh? But since there's a way out that sounds so reasonable, of course I'll take it.

“Uh…yes,” he said, feigning nonchalance, “You know we can never have too many think tanks…every qualified candidate is important…I…I am…yes, I came to find him and bring him back according to the prediction of our chief think tank! It’s just that there was a little accident on the way!”

It was a perfectly reasonable explanation from all sides, and even Colonel Fedorak, who was standing nearby, nodded in agreement.

“I have indeed heard that the Silver Skull has a tradition of prophetic pronouncements from multiple think tanks.” The Holy Blood Grand Think Tank nodded. “Then please wait until we have finished dealing with matters here, and we will take you to a place where we can contact your chapter.”

"Thank you very much."

I managed to fool them on the first try!

Zao Eifernetti, nestled in Ramizan's arms, frowned slightly and glanced at everyone.

(End of this chapter)