I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 383 The Innately Evil Blue Civet
Strong light filled every corner of this golden hall.
The burning, blazing, and dense light swept over, mixed with the silent wails of hundreds of millions of psychics.

Do not,
Not only psychics,

In just a moment, Robert Guilliman seemed to hear millions of voices roaring, wailing, whispering, groaning, and crying in his ears at the same time.
He couldn't hear those voices clearly. Each voice was different, and each sentence was contradictory. It was disturbing and unbearable.
It was not until the roar of the Eternal Gate closing was heard that Guilliman came back to his senses from the noisy sounds and cast his eyes on everything in front of him.
He saw the huge machine, as huge as an Emperor-class Titan, surrounded by brutal, terrible, complicated, chaotic machinery and cables.
Guilliman knew that these cables and machines were only the outermost part of the terrible machine, the product of ten thousand years of people's continuous attempts to repair and maintain the operation of the machine. These were only the parts exposed on the ground, like the part of an iceberg exposed above the water.

Beneath the throne room, the appendages of this horrible machine may extend for tens of kilometers.

Above the throne room, these cables and machines continued to climb along a huge machine like an Aztec pyramid.

A blazing light shone from the top of the pyramid, as if a cruel sacrifice was being made to the sun god, the first sun, Tezcatlipoca, the smoke mirror, and the black sun.

Then, Guilliman saw the sacrifice of the ritual,

It was a shrunken skeleton, a corpse king, a ghost emperor,
A mummy, a mummy without eyes, staring at Roboute Guilliman.
For a moment, Guilliman even wondered if the being sitting on the throne had died long ago.

"Emperor."

Guilliman could not help but speak, speaking to the afterimage of the former Lord of Mankind, the Savior who once walked the Earth, the Golden Man,
His tone was filled with strong sadness, pain, and confusion, and he squeezed out the word almost unbearably:

"Father."

"Here we are, what do you want us to do?!"

Robert Guilliman was the first to step out and asked questions to the mummy on the throne.

Then, Guilliman regretted it.

The mummy, that thing that couldn't be called a living thing, or even a corpse, actually looked at Guilliman.
Guilliman was convinced almost instantly that this thing was definitely not the former Emperor, and it could not even be called the remains of the Emperor after he was burned to ashes.

"Son." He? It? Or He? said to Guilliman.

"Number 13," it continued.

"The Lord of the Ultramarines."

"Doraemon's Demon Prince."

"Regent of the Second Empire."

"Redemption."

"destroy."

"hope."

"disappointment."

"A lot of lies."

“Very ambitious.”

"Thief."

"traitor."

"Guilliman."

Thousands of conflicting voices roared in Guilliman's ears.

He praised Guilliman, He cursed Guilliman,
He praises Guilliman, He humiliates Guilliman,
He praises Guilliman, He condemns Guilliman,
He is gentle as a father, He is majestic as a king,
He was full of emotion, and He was cold and heartless.

"Son." "Not a son."

"Existence." "A tool."

"Name." "Not a name."

“One name, one tool, one product.”

Guilliman was tormented by the painful emotions revealed in those words.

Sanguinius saw more than Roboute Guilliman.
He saw the shrunken, grey, purposeless corpse, the sacrificed corpse,
But Sanguinius also saw the cold, dead black sun in the Warp hanging over the corpse.

This was a ten thousand year long sacrifice, a living sacrifice called the Emperor of Mankind was offered to Himself, to the dark sun that illuminated the entire Warp, to the sun that reflected death, extinction and the end of all things like obsidian.
The wind of the eternal night blew from the inevitable future, raging on Sanguinius's face, as if to cut a hideous wound in his soul.
But Sanguinius stepped forward and looked directly into the corpse's empty eyes.

"Son," he said.

"Number nine," He said.

"Lord of Bhaal."

"Doraemon's Demon Prince."

"Emperor of the Second Empire."

"Perfect."

“Defective.”

"Archangel."

"Mutant."

"die."

"hope."

"gold."

"dark."

"Sanguinius."

It said:
"son."

"tool."

"Chicken sauce?"

Those contradictory, abstract, distorted voices, like the chorus of millions of people, constantly washed over Sanguinius's will.
He saw the power of the Emperor, saw all the sorrow, death, loss, failure and pain, saw the potential to rival all the powers of Chaos,

".You have been led astray."

Sanguinius resisted the rush of will and spoke reluctantly:
"Emperor." "Father." "Mummy." ".The Dark Lord."

Through the connection between them, Zhou Yun could sense what Guilliman and Sanguinius saw.
But Zhou Yun saw more than the two of them combined.

The mummy on the throne was like a vast ocean, and the three of them were like containers.

Guilliman is like a basin, Sanguinius is like a reservoir, they are all like blind men touching an elephant, they can only see a glimpse of the world.
But Zhou Yun saw the whole sea, the truth beneath the wreckage, and those blasphemous and distorted things.
"The six-armed, four-legged and two-rooted Divine Emperor is above." Zhou Yun exclaimed in surprise.

The level of blasphemy in the words of the Six-Armed, Four-Leg, Two-Root Divine Emperor was far less than the blasphemy that Zhou Yun saw before his eyes.

It had a thousand arms, ten thousand hands, a hundred thousand body parts, a billion skulls, as if the remains of all the dead from ten thousand years ago had been piled together in the ugliest, most self-destructive, darkest way possible.
They are all sacrifices, not just the emperor, all of them.
From the far side of the past to the far side of the future, all things that can be called human or derived from human are,
The Emperor was only the first to be sacrificed to the Dark Lord by throwing out his heart. His son was the second, his father was the third, and his father's brother was the fourth. The Emperor killed his own son, and his son killed the Emperor himself.

The Emperor's father was killed by his uncle, who was in turn killed by the Emperor himself.

Then more, more, more, humans piled up like mountains, like stars,

These humans were sacrificed.
But just like the sacrifices on the Aztec pyramids were eager to be sacrificed, these humans also longed for

Their corpses all stretched their hands upward, reaching toward the black sun at the highest point.
They stretched out their hands, wanting to deliver the sun and have it born in the material universe.

That sun is the Emperor, is Man, is the corpse of the Lord of Ages, is the Lord of Darkness.

Those millions of corpses twisted their bodies at the same time, looking at Zhou Yun with their empty eyes.
The sound of millions of people singing together rang in Zhou Yun's ears.

"A blue civet cat!"

".?" Zhou Yun was stunned for a moment, then "A yellow-skinned guy!" he immediately yelled back.

But the corpses seemed not to hear Zhou Yun's roar. More voices and more contradictory words came out of the mouths of different corpses.

"twenty two!"

"Blue civet cat!"

"Foul mouth!"

"Vicious Skills!"

"Original power!"

"Greed dissolves!"

"Eternal Dragon!"

"Erosion and destruction!"

"The God of Death of Humans and Eldar!"

"The inherently evil blue parenting robot!"

These noisy, disordered sounds continued to pour into Zhou Yun's ears, sharp and piercing, difficult to distinguish:

"Zhou Yun!"

"Lian Russ!"

"Brother Zhou Yun!"

"The evil god that corrupted Sanguinius and Guilliman!"

"Twenty-second century!"

"Devil trafficker!"

Countless information poured into Zhou Yun's mind.

Too much, too complicated, too cumbersome, as if it contained everything about hundreds of millions of people.

The poor who starved to death in the hive, the peasants crushed by the knights' iron feet, the girl who was raped to death at the nobles' banquet, the emperor who played the four-love game with Erda, the internal affairs officer who died suddenly on the job, the crew who died with the warship, the emperor who stole the sheep of Orr Persong
Countless scenes echoed in Zhou Yun's mind.
Zhou Yun had no idea what those corpses were trying to express.

"What on earth do you want!"

Zhou Yun suddenly yelled back at the mummy on the throne:

"Yellow skin! What's wrong with you now?!"

".My butt is so itchy!"

"Costitis hurts so much!"

"My spinal disease is about to flare up!"

“Will sitting for a long time cause constipation?”

“Everything failed!”

"There is still hope!"

"I want to die."

"I still want to live."

"Horus, that idiot!"

"I forgive him!"

“Why do we have to suffer like this?”

"Why don't you look for your own reasons for the failure of the Great Crusade?"

"Chaos and the Aliens killed your entire family. Can you please look for your own reasons?"

"God Emperor! Please save us!"

"God Emperor! We hate you."

"Blue Civet! Talk! Talk!"

"Get out! Get out! Get out of my throne room!"

"Don't leave! Save us!"

The screams of dying filled Zhou Yun's ears. These sounds almost made him collapse.
But in this voice, Zhou Yun heard the voice of a tired middle-aged man with a strange Central Asian accent, the only one speaking Chinese.

"Dialogue! Dialogue! Dialogue!"

"Language! Blue Civet! Language!"

"Props! Props! Eat them!"

"Translate! Talk! I want to speak!"

"Talker!"

"Talker! Talker! Talker!"

"You! Eat!"

"Talker! Urgent! Urgent! Urgent!"

(End of this chapter)