Alas, Imperial Truth!

"Unfortunately, Captain Loken firmly forbade me from revealing what happened that day."

"Otherwise, I would certainly have written an epic poem on the subject—about deceit, betrayal, and the destruction yet to come."

"Still, it wasn't entirely without gain."

"I copied down the strange writing tattooed on Erebus's face, as well as quite a few ancient incantations from Devon cults."

"I couldn't make out a single word of them, though. Perhaps I should find a Remembrancer to translate and interpret them for me. I wonder whether Old Sinderman has time to decipher these writings."

Huh? The strange writing on Erebus's face? Ancient incantations of Devon cults?

Zhou Yun's eyelid twitched slightly, and a sense of foreboding rose in his heart as his fingers gently turned to the next page—

Bang!

After glancing at the words on the next page, Zhou Yun hurriedly snapped the notebook shut.

Sure enough, it contained a mass of twisted, abstract Devon hieroglyphs. A single glance was enough to make Zhou Yun feel slightly dizzy.

"What's wrong?" Monger noticed Zhou Yun's strange behavior.

Zhou Yun merely shook his head, his expression somewhat unable to hold together.

"They are indeed incantations passed down among Devon's warrior cults," the winged figure in the white light said in a low voice.

There was disgust and revulsion in his voice, as though those words were things of utmost blasphemy and filth.

Devon—the place where Horus had been corrupted.

The humans on that planet had been tainted by Chaos and become like beasts.

Those Devonians had formed countless warrior cults devoted to dark beliefs, with priests of Chaos serving within their shadowy secret sects.

And the true objects of those secret cults' worship were the gods of the Warp.

They had received countless blasphemous secrets of the Warp from those gods.

Ignes Karkasy had actually courted death by recording the incantations circulated among the cults of Devon Planet.

That was close. He had nearly gotten himself killed across ten thousand years.

A bead of sweat ran down Zhou Yun's forehead.

For all he knew, this division director within the Corpse Guild had been corrupted by Chaos after deciphering part of the incantations in the notebook.

With that thought, Zhou Yun opened the notebook again and, without hesitation, tore out the cream-colored pages covered in Devon hieroglyphic runes before tossing them onto the floor.

The twelve laser rifles floating around him under his telekinetic control aimed at the discarded pages and unleashed a barrage.

Only after watching those pages covered in blasphemous incantations burn to ash did Zhou Yun finally let out a slight breath of relief.

Monger and Malkit exchanged looks at Zhou Yun's bizarre actions.

"It's nothing. There was just something filthy on those pages."

After catching his breath, Zhou Yun looked at Monger and Malkit and shook his head.

"Something filthy?" Monger looked intrigued. "How filthy?"

"Filthy as hell. As filthy as those unofficial histories about Leman Russ selling himself to Russ," Zhou Yun said, looking at the ashes on the floor with evident distaste.

Monger's eyelid twitched slightly at Zhou Yun's blasphemous words.

How did this guy manage to casually say something so blasphemous?

Even he, a mutant, felt like sending Zhou Yun to the stake.

Monger glanced at Malkit beside him and found that his older brother was equally speechless.

The two exchanged a look. Then Monger stepped forward and patted Zhou Yun on the shoulder.

"Brother, if you ever can't make it in the lower hive anymore, come to the underhive."

"My brother and I have some standing in the underhive too."

Zhou Yun gave Monger a strange look. "What are you talking about? I'm not a mutant. Why would I have to be that desperate to go to the underhive?"

"But you're a heretic," Monger said seriously. "Fuck, my brother and I put together aren't as heretical as you."

Hearing that, Zhou Yun frowned deeply and brushed Monger's hand away. "Don't slander me out of thin air."

"My loyalty to humanity is as clear as the sun and moon. There cannot be two suns in the sky; in my heart, there is only one cold sun—the Emperor."

With that, Zhou Yun looked at Monger and Malkit with an upright expression.

"I wholeheartedly believe in the following truth: there are no ghosts or gods among the stars, no supernatural phenomena, and no magic or sorcery. All Things can be understood through scientific means. Humanity can conquer everything with the light of reason. Nothing should be worshipped, and a rational galaxy must completely eradicate the backward concept of religion."

Zhou Yun's voice rang out forcefully. Malkit and Monger stood rooted to the spot for a moment.

The two stared at each other in bewilderment, then burst out laughing despite themselves.

"You really know how to tell a joke," Monger said, unable to stop himself from shaking his head.

Malkit could not help sighing either. "Who came up with this so-called 'truth,' so full of lies? What blasphemy and heresy."

"Whether in the Imperial Creed or in the secret cults lurking in the shadows, such a theory is so idiotic that it deserves the stake."

If there were no ghosts or gods among the stars, then where did the Astronomican illuminating the galaxy come from? What were those great beings within the Warp?

If there were no supernatural phenomena, magic, or sorcery, then what were priests, psykers, and cultists wielding?

If All Things could be understood through science, then why were both the Warp and the material universe shrouded in such profound mysteries?

If the light of human reason could conquer everything, and humanity had no need for faith or worship, then why did the Imperial Creed exist?

Monger and Malkit could not help laughing, because every single word in this "truth" ran contrary to reality.

"Exactly. Who could have come up with such a shocking lie?" Zhou Yun nodded in agreement.

The winged figure in the white light trembled gently a few times.

"Alas, Imperial Truth," he sighed, his voice thick with resentment.

Monger caught his breath, recovering from his laughter, and patted Zhou Yun on the shoulder.

"Anyway, be careful not to end up on the stake."

"If you can't make it anymore, come find me in the underhive. We're fucking brothers."

With that, Monger punched Zhou Yun lightly on the shoulder.

Zhou Yun shrugged.

No matter how he thought about it, he wasn't likely to end up in the underhive.

"I'd fucking rather go to the underhive!"

Suppressing the churning in his stomach, Zhou Yun clutched his forehead and squatted in the cargo train gangway, watching Lag lead several gang members in moving the three hundred automatic infantry rifles.

After emerging from Old Sector Eight, he had parted ways with Monger and Malkit and taken the cargo train back to this district.

The facts proved that even without a hangover, this damned train was still torture.

If he had known, he would have gone to the underhive with the Malkit brothers. At least he would not have had to ride this life-threatening train again.

"Brother Zhou Yun, want to go have a round at the Spearpoint tonight?" Lag asked with a grin, patting Zhou Yun on the back.

Not only had Zhou Yun made a fortune from this batch of automatic infantry rifles, but Lag had surely pocketed quite a bit from the middle as well.

Zhou Yun nearly failed to hold back a mouthful of vomit. He brushed Lag's hand away and shook his head.

"No. Right now, I fucking want to puke all over your face."

He rubbed his brow and rose to his feet. All he wanted now was to go home, lie down properly, and sleep.