Chapter 15: The Path Ahead, The Pursuit of Strength

“No malevolent god could create so many real entities with so few souls; otherwise, those unruly beings would have already been mass-produced and thrown into the real universe.”

Ramses spoke with great certainty.

Many people misunderstand the power of the Four Gods, but once you truly grasp the Warhammer 40k worldview, you realize the Four Gods aren’t as terrifying and invincible as imagined.

What truly breeds despair in Warhammer is the overall decay of civilizations: the Empire in the real universe reeks of corruption, various blasphemous factions defy the heavens, and the four troublemakers lurking in the Warp.

Before the Great Rift opened, the Four Gods interfered with the real universe mainly through fostering cults that performed sacrifices to open Warp portals for demon invasions, and by relying on Abaddon to unite the scattered Chaos renegades for the “Every Crusade is a Victory” Dark Crusades.

Even Abaddon, the shared champion of the Four Gods, spent countless years pillaging the real universe and signing numerous unequal treaties with the Dark Mechanicum before amassing something like the Planet Killer under the Eye of Terror. Creating something like adamantium or auric gold just by spending some souls would be too much to expect from the Four Gods.

If the items exchanged were prohibitively expensive, like a fishing lure that constantly drives you to accumulate souls for promised power, then it would undoubtedly be a Chaos conspiracy.

But right now, the consumption is too minimal—so minimal that one can almost be certain this surpasses the Four Gods’ authority.

“So you all have a clear idea of your abilities now?”

Everyone nodded.

To put it simply, they were now like an STC blueprint, except the raw material they produced was psychic energy.

“And then there’s the way to acquire the raw materials: theoretically, hunting any entity with psychic energy works.”

Killing was certainly an option, but indiscriminate slaughter was far beyond their scope of consideration.

Ramses opened a demon portal, from which a blue daemon with a greedy, cunning face leapt out, only to be shattered by psychic lightning.

“My current idea is to use a demon summoning ritual to kill them. Since I’ve switched to psychic energy, I’m quite conspicuous in the Warp.”

A monster farm, then.

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

Arthur asked, sensing that this fishing method was verging on reckless.

“Demons can only see the projection of psychic energy, not me.”

Ramses explained:

“When we use psychic energy, it’s like a person using a tool. The demons see the tool, but not the person wielding it.”

One must admit, recklessness can have its merits. Ramses’ understanding of his own powers far surpassed that of the other three.

If it were Arthur, with his cautious nature, he would never dare to try this under suspicion, and thus would not have uncovered the principles of their abilities.

“There’s another way.”

Seeing Ramses finish, Romulus spoke up.

“We can also harvest a tremendous amount of psychic energy by directly interfering with a predetermined event, far more than by hunting psychic individuals.”

“For example?”

Ramses grew interested.

“During the reclaiming of the Gellar Field Generator, Arthur and I intervened in a horrific Chaos Space Marine sacrificial ritual against the Deathwatch. After we killed the enemies, we gained a massive amount of psychic energy.”

Romulus recounted his previous experience.

He could dispatch dozens of Astartes to various nodes for defense thanks to this unexpected windfall.

“Is that so?”

Ramses rubbed his chin, a look of sudden understanding crossing his face.

“So that’s where the mysterious psychic energy came from.”

He continued:

“In fact, every one of our operations is siphoning psychic energy, just in tiny amounts. Why you and Arthur gained so much is worth studying, but more examples are needed for verification.”

“Mm.”

Romulus nodded, ending the topic.

“So far, this is what we understand about our abilities. Now, the most important question—”

He clasped his hands, resting his chin on them, his deep crimson eyes solemnly scanning the group. Even the usually transparent Karna straightened up.

“What should we do in the future?”

“Stay secluded in a corner, or intervene?”

The four of them would most likely remain in the Warhammer universe for life, so they needed a concrete plan for the future.

“If I were just an ordinary fallen angel, I would try to find a Garden World to hide on, living another day would be a gain.”

Arthur spoke first.

“But—”

Romulus teased his old friend, offering a way out:

“But with you all here, and this unknown power, I think we are destined not to keep quiet.”

Arthur spoke again, well aware that no matter how much he doubted the power that could materialize souls, it ultimately gave them a new choice.

A choice they had no option but to take.

“To intervene in major events, to seek the essence of our powers, to slaughter those enemies who oppose our ideals—we must pursue strength, because in this universe—”

Avoiding Romulus’s gaze, Arthur met the eyes of his companions one by one.

“Only strength is truth!”

In this alien universe, whether it was the Imperium, Chaos, or the Tyranids, all were threats to the travelers.

The weak would not survive facing these dangers.

Now, a path to power stood brightly before them.

The travelers did not want to one day be crushed in the aftermath of a conflict between the Imperium and their foes, lamenting that they hadn’t developed their powers or harvested strength from the cracks between events.

Therefore, they needed to pursue power, to seek more efficient ways to become stronger.

If they wanted to grow stronger, they could never afford to remain outsiders forever.

Moreover...

The four exchanged glances, sharing not only consensus on their choices but also a faint hope—

A hope to transform this chaotic galaxy into the familiar world remembered from their past.

“Sir!”

A call came from outside, breaking their heartfelt eye contact.

It was Sister Arabella’s voice.

After Ramses dismissed the anachronistic constructs, Romulus operated the Thinker to open the door.

“Sister Arabella.”

Romulus invited her in.

“What is it?”

“It’s about the warriors of the Broken Sword—they’re severely mutated.”

Arabella spoke, unsure why she chose this moment to report such a minor matter to the Emperor’s angels.

But some voice compelled her to come, insisting that the angels should know.