Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 115 Humanity Only Has One Chance

A week has passed since Ruth's return, and the Emperor sought out Doom alone.

Doom followed the Emperor through the palace’s intricate corridors to his private room.

The two rarely spoke during their journey, gazing at the magnificent sculptures in the palace, where artisans were carving and recording the honor of the Space Marines within the palace walls.

The emperor's room was not small, but it was not as luxurious as the palace; rather, it was rather simple.

A simple bed, red silk curtains, a wooden bookshelf, and some simple handicrafts.

"Honor needs splendid embellishment to show its preciousness."

The Emperor saw through Doom's thoughts and explained the reason for the palace's magnificence in just two simple sentences: "The sacrifice of gold decorations is perhaps the only thing I can do to commemorate those humans who sacrificed themselves on the Great Crusade."

Doom nodded heavily, agreeing with the Emperor's statement.

The essence of honor is a veiled illusion, imbuing death and sacrifice with a sublime meaning, thus deceiving one person after another into giving their lives for the ruler's goals.

"What do you think of what Ruth said? To participate in the Great Expedition, first support my plan."

The Emperor stood before the table, his power armor gleaming with golden light, its radiance subtly rippled with energy, awaiting an answer.

He didn't know Doom's specific attitude towards the Great Crusade; this powerful warrior rarely offered his opinion.

He remembers what happens, makes an assessment that aligns with his own values, and then remains silent.

This type of person has a complete set of values ​​and their own principles of conduct, and the Emperor had no good way to persuade Doom.

Persuade him to participate in the Great Expedition and contribute his powerful strength for the future of humanity.

Doum crossed his arms and walked to the window, looking down at the magnificent palace under construction. The emperor's plan, like the palace itself, was being realized little by little.

Unable to face the urgent plea hidden in the emperor's burning gaze, he turned around and asked in a low voice, "What's your next plan?"

The Emperor looked at Doom's tall figure and uttered two words: "The Web Path, humanity's salvation."

"The Web Dao?" Doom turned around abruptly, his eyes sharp as he looked at the Emperor, not understanding how the Lord of Man could be connected with the Web Dao.

"You know about the existence of the Web Dao?" The Emperor looked surprised. He heard surprise, not ignorance, in Doom's question.

“I know.” Doom nodded slightly. “I’ve heard rumors about it and know a little about it.”

Doom certainly knew about the Web, a miraculous creation built by the Old Ones, a high-speed mobile network that spans the galaxy and connects every world, independent of the real universe and the warp.

It possesses both the stability and security of the real universe and the high speed and efficiency of subspace. In a sense, the Netway is a completely independent giant space.

The last Old One—Prima the Forger of Life—mentioned the Way of the Web to him.

"It is a creation of an ancient intelligent being, now controlled by the 'Adalin'."

"Yes." The Emperor didn't delve into how Doom learned about the web.

His usually calm and even voice betrayed a hint of excitement as he spoke to Doom: "I plan to hack into the Webpath and force humanity to relocate there, thus freeing them from their dependence on the Warp and allowing them to escape the gaze of the Four Gods."

The Emperor walked to a wall, drew back the entire red curtain, and showed Doom his plan.

On that obsidian wall, his plans for the future were depicted in complex lines and numbers that are difficult for ordinary people to understand.

Doom stood at the foot of the wall, looking up at the masterpiece. The mural used numbers to interpret details and outlined lines to depict the route.

Primarch, Space Marines, the Great Crusade, the Webway Project, the Migration of the Races, and the Escape from the Warp and the Four Gods.

The functions and responsibilities of each Primarch, the specific roles of the Space Marine Legions, the timing and impact of the Great Crusade, how the Webpath Project should be implemented, the monumental relocation of the entire race, and the bright future after breaking free from the Four Gods.

Line by line, the emperor used pure hand-painting to inscribe his dreams and future in gold on obsidian.

As his fingers traced the murals, Doom felt the lines and numbers, sensing the reality of the Imperial Plan.

"Do you think it will succeed?" His question seemed superfluous, even somewhat unintelligent.

Ask the architect of a grand plan, and in the process of implementing it, whether he himself has confidence in the plan.
It's like asking an architect about their confidence in an unfinished building.

This analogy may not be appropriate, but it accurately reflects the dialogue between the two.

The Emperor remained silent, not readily answering the question, but pondering it with the wisdom accumulated over tens of thousands of years. If Macardo or Waldo were to ask this question, the Emperor would tell them to have confidence.

Because they are friends and subordinates, members of the human empire, they must be given confidence in order to accomplish something.

Doom is different.

The Emperor is seeking his help from outside the Empire, hoping for powerful assistance.

"With your help, the success rate can be increased by at least 30%."

After pondering for a long time, the emperor carefully gave his answer. Without exaggeration or falsehood, he said seriously after rigorous calculation: "Originally it was only half, now it is eighty percent."

Doom looked away from the mural and gave him a look that said, "I'm not easily fooled."

What do you mean by a 50/50 success rate? Stripped of euphemisms, it means that failure and success each account for half.

"You said that humanity only has one chance to be revived?" Doom didn't dwell on it too much, instead changing the subject: "If you fail, will I still have a chance?"

"Humanity truly only has one chance!" The Emperor nodded in agreement, not avoiding Doom's question, and pointed to himself and then to Doom: "I have one chance, and you have one chance."

Facing Doom's gaze, which seemed to say "be serious," the Emperor remained calm and composed: "I'm stating a fact."

"Before I met you, I thought that humanity really only had one chance, and I had to seize it."

“Your return brings another opportunity, and I can be bolder and have more courage to realize my plans.”

As the emperor spoke, he scooped a handful of gold dust from a bowl beside him and began to continue his painting at the end of the obsidian wall:
"I'll complete my plan first, and then you and I will join forces."

His voice was unusually passionate, and the gold dust on his fingers continued to outline the future on the wall: "Bring... your brothers, and after stabilizing the situation for humanity, let's challenge the Four Gods together."

As the emperor narrates, a new painting continues his grand plan.

A group of extraordinary figures, radiating brilliance, led the Space Marines out of the Webway and into the warp.

"The four gods are not blind or deaf; they will do everything in their power to stop you."

Doom remained calm. The Emperor's grand vision did not ignite his reason; instead, it made him even more clear-headed: "Perhaps they are already planning to make all of this vanish like a bubble."

He reached out and grabbed some gold dust, casually tossing it onto the obsidian. After the gold dust dispersed, it left behind an ugly eight-pointed star, its evil tentacles pointing to all the key points of the Emperor Project.

The Primarch corrupted by Chaos, Space Marines fighting each other, the shattered Webway Project, and the utterly failed race migration.

Doom's simple intervention caused the Emperor's plan to fail completely.

In the center of the chaotic eight-pointed star, a luminous figure was imprisoned—it was the Emperor himself!
The emperor was like a prisoner, imprisoned and tormented in chaos, imprisoned by the human race.

“That’s why I need you!” The Emperor did not disrupt the future Doom had envisioned; he continued forward with unwavering determination, throwing out gold dust as well.

As the gold slowly fell, a warrior rose to his feet, raising his god-slaying sword high, which shone brightly, and stood once more before humanity.

He was unyielding and strong, facing the ugliness of the four gods, and behind him gradually gathered figures, those who still had hope.

"You get one chance, I get one chance."

The emperor stood up again and brought the issue back to its original point: "You must help me seize this opportunity."

He gave no orders or coercion; the pleading and expectation in his eyes burned like the scorching sun on Doom: "If I fail, I will do everything I can to stabilize the situation and help you realize your opportunity."

The Emperor's voice was so sincere, and he placed his hand in front of Doom with earnest hope.

"Why are you so convinced?" Doom asked, his arms still crossed, as he carefully examined the huge scroll. His deep voice was filled with doubt.

The emperor's special regard for him was perplexing; he wondered why the emperor valued him so highly, unlike others: "I firmly believe I can seize the opportunity again."

"I'm sure!" The emperor's raised hand never went down.

He spoke earnestly to Doom, his calm and steady voice filled with trust: "You are the Doom Slayer, the indomitable Godslayer. If I fail, I am confident you can rise again!"

Doom looked at the Emperor's outstretched hand, and finally at his eyes, which shone with an undisguised certainty.

Finally, he reached out and shook hands with the Emperor: "Execute your plan first, and complete the Great Expedition!"

(End of this chapter)