Emperor's Bane

Chapter 1 Prologue
[Morgan, my daughter. 】

【You are a failure. 】

[A thief, a disaster star. 】

[A nightmare, a torture. 】

[A person who feeds on pain all his life. 】

【You will hate pain. 】

[Rely on pain. 】

[Control pain. 】

[In the end... it became pain. 】

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"Since he is unwilling to serve the Emperor, let him remain silent."

"Yes, everything, his heirs and family, must remain silent. Do I still need to teach this by myself?"

There was dissatisfaction with incompetence and weakness in the old voice.

Malcador walked slowly along the thin gravel path, his footsteps were slow and steady, he held the scepter tightly, buried his head under the worn-out hood, looked down at the road.

The ruler of the empire, people always use this title to refer to him.

Their voices were always filled with fear and hatred, for this seemingly dying old man had signed countless deadly decrees, and with every part of his lips, thousands of lives were lost from Terra. disappeared from the land.

Those survivors whispered in the corner of the royal court, unaware that Malcador's power made him clearly aware of every comment and slander he received.

But he never cared about all this, especially when the voice of the highest voice called him.

At the end of the road, there was a bunker buried under the rocks. Soldiers in golden armor stood on both sides without looking sideways.

He pushed open the door and walked in, and the whispers of gods and demons came to his face.

"Emperor... my lord."

Malcador bowed deeply.

The status, power, arrogance and responsibility as the ruler of the empire are all worthless at this moment.

------

The Lord of Terra, the Emperor, was frowning.

In front of him were two gigantic, specially-made cultivation chambers that could not be understood by ordinary people's thinking. The tall figure of the Lord of Terra was clearly reflected on them, vaguely covering the products inside.

Macado is already 6500 years old, even among the immortals, this is a proud qualification, and of course, many of his emotions and memories have slowly worn away with the passage of time.

But when he really saw the [thing] in the cabin that couldn't be described in words.

For the first time in a long time, he felt... fear.

[All repair actions for the No. [-] subject can already be declared a failure, Macado. 】

The Emperor is now dressed as a scientist. He is wearing a brand new white protective suit that is a little too big. With a tired and irritable face, he took off his gloves and casually threw them at his feet.

After a long time, his eyes staring at the breeding chamber marked with the [Ⅱ] logo still moved away, and the emperor finally shook his head, with only regret and anger at the loss of a precious creation in his voice.

The Handprinter did not speak. After working with the Lord of Terra for a long time, he already had a general idea of ​​the Emperor's character and nature.

The ruler of Terra, the emperor of mankind, and the lord of Malcador at the same time, he has never been a good man and gentleman in the popular sense. Countless years have washed away almost all his emotions as a mortal.

Although his will is still firm and unshakable, instead of becoming an irretrievable fallen like some of his immortal counterparts, when he takes firm steps towards the goal in his heart, he will never care about the so-called casualties and morality.

And while he puts on a masterful act as a weary father and confidant, he never lets his mind be changed by these ludicrous emotions.

To him, life is nothing but fallen leaves in the forest. He will cherish the lushness and future development of the entire forest, but he will not hesitate to saw down any towering ancient trees.

How can someone who can look at each other with the four gods be a kind person.

[I have to think about how to make up for my loss. The problem of the No. [-] individual cannot be solved by any means today, and it is already very difficult to accomplish the goal I set. 】

【I originally planned to make No. [-] the secret keeper and general of the empire, a guard who would swing a sword to death for me, and No. [-] would be the second you, Malcador. 】

[I gave it the ability to explore and collect the unknown, gave it the talents of psychic power and governance, and those more dreadful powers. 】

【It should be more worthy of my entrustment and trust, and become the most greedy and hypocritical assistant, smoothing the roar and wildness of these twisted monsters I created for me. 】

[But now, I miscalculated, everything about No. [-] needs to be pushed back. 】

The Emperor walked around the room with some boredom, his eyes circling the empty training pods.

In the deal on Moro Star, the power he gained was enough to shape twenty of the most powerful assistants. Although he knew that not all of them could succeed, the failure did come a bit too quickly.

He began to plan how to stop the loss in time, how to make a failed product maximize its value in a short period of time: even if it is a ghost, it must serve the emperor's great cause and goal.

The failed Primarch Two was not alone, for Primarch One had been completed long before it, a creation so powerful, heroic and perfect that all existence paled in comparison.

Malcador raised his head, just glanced at Two, and he understood in an instant what had caused the Emperor to abandon a promising Primarch.

Power, the power of the evil god, is lingering around this primarch, and even the humblest psyker can clearly feel the richness.

As one of the greatest psychic masters in the physical universe, Machador the Handprinter went a step further. He could clearly feel that the power belonged to Tzeentch and Slaanesh.

------

If there is any existence in the Supreme Sky that all challengers are least willing to face, it is undoubtedly Tzeentch: the Lord of Change, the master of the Crystal Labyrinth, and the chief architect of all twists and turns in the world.

How he was formed, and how he cast an ominous shadow in the history of countless races, these are no longer important.

He is there, and he is full of malice, which is enough to make all challengers feel a kind of pressure from the bottom of their hearts.

Countless powerful civilizations have long been reduced to passing clouds along with his laughter, and countless heroes of a lifetime have died because of his random thoughts. This person in charge of twisting and planning doesn't care about the past or the future He doesn't care about victory, all he longs for is the same wailing that is splashed when the fate of heroes and mortals is ups and downs.

Now, he was clearly eyeing the Emperor's plans, plotting vicious schemes amidst a long series of banter, and he wasn't the only one doing the same.

In the highest heaven, the youngest god: the aura of Slaanesh also unscrupulously surrounds the emperor's eyes. It is a bright provocation, a declaration and admonition, and Prince Joy is using this method to tell the Lord of Terra that He is here Which one to crave in a market transaction.

Although the one who rose from the Great Fall of the Eldar was too young and weak compared with the three ancient gods, no one doubted that the master of pleasure and all extreme emotions would be the untouchable Part of the world, he is doing whatever it takes to steal power from all things in the world, making the silver palace of pleasure expand day by day.

Now, the oldest gods and youngest gods in the warp, they set their sights on the unborn Emperor's child at the same time, warning the emperor to fulfill the terms of their original bargain:

Of the twenty gene descendants, half of them will belong to the Supreme Heaven, to the subspace, and to the four gods of chaos.

The Emperor, however, does not wish to fulfill it.

He'd be a disloyal bargaining chip, a vicious liar, and a ruthless publicist.

He is good at it.

The Lord of Terra narrowed his eyes, and began to think about how to deal with this heir who was abandoned by him in a more cost-effective manner. Three equally evil great minds revolved around this unborn life, intriguing with each other.

At the same time, the handprinter continued his observation.

This Second Primarch, whose physiology has been distorted by the power of the Warp, has become an absolute female.

Compared with her strong brother in another training cabin, she looks slender, pale and thin, and the excessive nutrients promote her development and growth. Macado can see the silver-white hair and the faint blue hair. colored pupils.

But from another perspective, in the ocean of psionic energy and spirit, the palm printer saw an incomparably terrifying, indescribable, and boundless behemoth.

The power of the Lord of Change and the Prince of Pleasure surrounds this unborn child. Their whispers and temptations never stop, like sharp daggers, eroding her spirit and thoughts.

In the ocean of nothingness, the screams of the Lord of Change have already echoed, and the handprinter saw the faint blue light constantly appearing in the distant sky, and the eagle full of fangs and sharp feathers became Flocks rushed at the sleeping Primarch, only to be reduced to ashes in an instant by the Emperor's icy light.

The waves of the warp swelled with the will of the Lord of Change, and from the deepest void to the vaults of holy Terra, Tzeentch's will was everywhere.

Malcador withdrew his consciousness, even he had to be careful in this environment.

For the real universe, the gods of the subspace are the most terrifying plague, and even a little bit of contamination is enough to make the most seasoned survivors unforgettable.

The Emperor is still busy, his mind is running at the speed of a meteor, countless plans and plans are brought up by him in an instant, but he gives up in the blink of an eye. His words are torturing what little conscience and morality he has left.

So, the handprinter raised his head again, this time, his will changed the angle in the void, ready to spy on the attitude and offensive of Prince Joy towards this place.

If it is said that Tzeentch's corruption of the Primarch has reached the point where the soul of the hand-printer dare not stay too long, then Slaanesh's possessiveness for the emperor's daughter can be compared with a A more obvious and immediate consequence to show:

Malcador the Handprinter—perhaps the second most powerful psychic in the galaxy after the Emperor—stretched out his consciousness, intending to peek at the imprint left by Prince Pleasure on the body of the Second Primarch.

------

Then, he was stunned.

------

Not even the Emperor's cold gaze could dispel the fog of the Prince of Pleasure's stay here. The smiles and whispers have been deeply baked into the body of the Second Primarch. The distance between her and Slaanesh seems to be only one kneel down, A carnival, or a real blasphemy.

The emperor was silent, his No. [-] work still belonged to him in the real universe, but in the supreme sky, the prince of joy laughed and held her tightly, and only the sharp beak of the Lord of Change could tear it apart. Break this grasp.

But it would be too uneconomical to start a war with Supreme Heaven prematurely for this reason. He still needs time to build more troops and facilities, to complete his hole cards, and to complete a gamble across the galaxy.

The Emperor began to think again, his thoughts as cold as a hibernating snake.

With the passage of time, the Lord of Terra's eyes swayed back and forth between the two completed works. After long thinking, he finally made a decision that was not too difficult.

[Macado. 】

He awakened his most trusted tool.

[Look here. 】

The Emperor knocked on Primarch One's cabin, and through their psychic perspective, they could see that this near-perfect creation had its own problems.

Paranoia, eccentricity, wildness, and stubborn arrogance are gifts from the power of the warp, and they are tightly attached to the soul of the Primarch One, like maggots attached to the bones.

[We should weaken it and remove these unstable subspace factors, at least some of them. I don't like such hidden dangers in my successful works. 】

Malcador rubbed his shoulders, his brain was still aching from the impact of the god.

"My lord, this is a very risky plan."

"Most importantly, what do we do with the culled Warp components?"

"They have to be housed in a suitable environment, otherwise these unique forces will come back to bite them again one day."

[There is no need to clear them all, just weaken them. I believe in their will, and I will inject loyalty and obedience into the genes of these creations until the day I no longer need them. 】

As he spoke, the emperor kept rubbing his fingers, and then, his eyes turned to the failed work, his second heir, the color in his pupils was like a tyrant looking at a scapegoat.

[And the place to deal with these evil thoughts, didn't we just get a ready-made one? 】

The emperor caressed the cold cabin, and he looked at his failed daughter with a different kind of relief in his eyes.

【Since she is already an irreparable failure...】

[Then let us use as much waste as possible. 】

[My daughter, my number two, my first failure. 】

[Morgan. 】

(End of this chapter)