Seeker of Knowledge

The Ragefang had been evading pursuit from the Red Corsairs and the Imperium.

Now, this Fierce Angels strike cruiser was hidden in an uninhabited star system.

Carly carried a meal to the Navigator's sanctum and gently knocked on the cabin door.

When the door opened, a pale-faced Onaas stepped out, looking up at Carly.

"It's time to eat," Carly handed the tray to Onaas, only releasing her grip when the latter had firmly taken it. "You've navigated so many times... can you still manage?"

Onaas took a few minutes to respond, her voice distant. "Yes."

To evade pursuit, the consecutive navigations had left Onaas utterly exhausted.

"The crew doesn't intend to run anymore," Carly said. "They want to go back, to provide orbital strikes for the Chapter before they die... or if there's time, to teleport them aboard using the relic device... In any case, running like this isn't a solution. We'll be caught eventually, and death will be waiting for us."

Onaas nodded. "I will be ready."

The two parted ways, and the cabin door closed.

Onaas placed the tray on the table, then found a corner to lie down and recover her strength.

A crunching sound suddenly reached her ears.

Onaas whipped her head around and saw a man in a robe sitting by the table, picking up a biscuit and chewing it.

Judging by his build, he was an Astartes.

Onaas had no idea when this Astartes had appeared.

It was one thing for this guy to suddenly appear, another to eat without permission... but he was also chewing loudly.

Just as Onaas was about to ask who he was, her memory suddenly resurfaced.

She remembered this person had appeared before, given her a book, and even sealed her memories of their meeting.

"Such familiar food and taste."

The man stared blankly at the food, lost in thought.

After a long while, he looked at Onaas.

"Forgive me, I come from nobility, I know dining etiquette."

"But chewing loudly makes me feel like I'm still alive, that I have substance."

"Who made this food?"

Onaas eyed him warily. Hearing the last question, she still answered, "Sister Carly made it. She's skilled at making all sorts of food. Because my ancestors were Achaemenid, I'm also used to Achaemenid food, and she takes my habits into account when she cooks for me."

"Oh, no wonder," the man nodded. "Actually, I am also Achaemenid, and a member of the royal family."

Onaas frowned.

The Achaemenid Empire was a vanished kingdom. During the Unification Wars on humanity's homeworld, Terra, the Achaemenid Empire had submitted to the Emperor.

"What is your name?" Onaas dared to sit by the table.

"Ahriman," the man replied, stuffing another biscuit into his mouth, chewing loudly, and then continuing to write.

Onaas noticed he was recording the Battle of Manros.

"I can multitask, don't worry about disturbing me, chat with me to pass the time," Ahriman said.

"Who are you?"

"I am a learned man."

"How did you end up on this ship?"

"I can appear wherever I wish. Space and distance are shackles for fools, but tools for me."

Ahriman's pen suddenly stopped as he recalled previous events.

He had intended to use the Fierce Angels as ritual materials to summon Daemons, so he had captured the Fierce Angels along with the Cunning Hounds Clan.

But at the final step of the ritual...

Ahriman recalled: he was floating in mid-air when he suddenly felt the gaze of the Blood God upon him. He turned his head to tell the Tzeentch Great Daemon, Karlos, whom he had summoned: "Quickly tell the Changeling to block the Blood God!"

Before he could finish speaking, he was struck down.

Then he was resurrected, and later performed another ritual, summoning only Karlos to serve as Huron's advisor. After completing the task, he stayed on the Ragefang to observe Lu Jin.

Until now.

"..."

Onaas asked no more questions.

Ahriman closed his book and looked at Onaas, while eating the food Carly had made for her.

"Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch..."

Onaas felt a vein throb on her forehead.

"You claim to be royalty from the Achaemenid Empire? Judging by your physique, since you're a Space Marine, you must have joined the Thousand Sons Legion, right?"

"Crunch..."

Ahriman put down the cookie he had just picked up. After two seconds of silence, he suddenly let out a satisfied and approving "Hmm," nodding repeatedly. "You know a lot."

"Given how much I know, tell me what you're really doing on the Ragefang?"

"Nothing."

Onaas glared at Ahriman.

Ahriman waved his hand. "Don't look at me so rudely. By blood, you should be the great-great-great-granddaughter of my brother. You should call me Grandpa."

Onaas didn't care about that at all.

The Achaemenid Empire was long gone, and her Navigator family had also gradually declined. Who could tell if what Ahriman said was true?

But Ahriman's next sentence made Onaas's expression change dramatically:

"I can take this ship back to the Manros system. The Fierce Angels and Mercy Emissaries, along with a certain Inquisitor, have a grudge. Then, while I help this ship fend off attacks, you can use the relic device to transport the people in the Chapter to the Imperium's flagship, and then, settle the score."

"Really, Grandpa Ahriman?"

"I can do it, but that doesn't mean I want to."

Ahriman pushed the empty plate aside and gazed at Onaas.

He stared at Onaas's third eye, and thought of a secret place, little known even in the real universe... This child could be used to enter the Black Library.

Onaas's face changed again. "Then aren't you just playing with me? I said I could destroy both fleets and rescue everyone."

"Amuse me, and I'll do it," Ahriman said.

Onaas lowered her head and pondered... Recalling Ahriman's words, she sensed his emphasis on knowledge from every angle.

Then, she understood what she needed to do.

Onaas suddenly remembered a question. "Thousand Sons... you... why are you so obsessed with the Warp?"

This question was too simple and childish for Ahriman. He would have been too lazy to answer if it were someone else.

But ten thousand years after the near annihilation of the Thousand Sons, for a young child to ask such a question, Ahriman regarded Onaas with new eyes.

Although Onaas was too young, her mind wasn't filled with glittering jewels and entertainment. Instead, she was contemplating things that people dozens of times her age wouldn't even consider.

This trait made Ahriman value her highly.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because I'm very interested in the history of ten thousand years ago, so I've studied your history. If it were someone else here today, like a Primarch or a Space Marine from the Legion era, I would ask a different question."

"That's a good question."

Ahriman pondered and slowly replied.

"Actually, this question can be applied to anyone, like why the human race is obsessed with the Warp."

"Because the real universe is too cruel, too cold."

"Do you know what a Light Cone means?"

Onaas certainly knew what a Light Cone was. She explained it as concisely as possible: a Light Cone is the range of all spacetime that an event can affect.

From the Light Cone, the concept of Light Cone Isolation emerged.

In ancient times, humanity believed itself to be the only intelligent species in space, forever unable to leave the solar system, forever alone.

Faster-than-light travel was considered extremely difficult, but perhaps possible.

And since information could not be transmitted faster than light, faster-than-light communication was deemed impossible.

Ahriman saw that Onaas had thought of the Light Cone, Light Cone Isolation, and humanity's struggles in space exploration, and continued.

"But the Warp allowed humanity to leave Earth."

"Warp Engines are faster than light speed."

"Star-whisper communication allowed information to travel faster than light."

"In ancient times, the first Scholar to study the Warp had a well-known saying: After I die, I will enter the Warp and tell Einstein's soul: I studied relativity for 120 years, but only ten years of studying the Warp gave humanity faster-than-light travel and communication capabilities."

"So you should understand why the Thousand Sons are obsessed with the Warp."

Having said that, Ahriman observed Onaas.

Onaas understood instantly.

The Thousand Sons were like ancient humans who, in despair and loneliness due to the limitations of the real universe, discovered the miraculous Warp and achieved things they had never dared to imagine with its help.

The Thousand Sons were as surprised by the Warp as ancient humans were.

"So, Onaas, how do you think you should view the Warp?" Ahriman asked with a smile.

"With caution, of course, because your excessive research into the Warp has already caused trouble, and I can't fall into the same pit," Onaas said.

Ahriman didn't see it that way. He believed sacrifice was necessary; everything came with a price.

But he didn't impose his own thoughts on Onaas, nor did he say, "Your thinking is wrong."

Ultimately, delving into the Warp and studying how to use it while remaining wary of it can be seen as different philosophies, different schools of thought.

Those who know should respect each other, rather than forming factions and expelling those who disagree like fools.

"You've proven to be an unusual child," Ahriman slowly stood up. "I am proud to have descendants like you."

Onaas thought Ahriman was leaving.

But Ahriman merely stood before the large viewport of the Navigator's sanctuary.

"I can do what I can do."

"I will show you what our power... can achieve!"

As Ahriman raised his hands.

The space around the Ragefang began to fold and tear, and finally, the entire warship entered the Warp.

This was entering the Warp without engaging the Warp Engine.

The Gellar Field was not deployed either, but Ahriman's psionic power protected the entire ship. The horrors of the Warp were not merely kept at bay; they were shattered by his psionic energy.

The mortals on board were frozen, their consciousnesses forever fixed at the moment before entering the Warp.

Onaas watched in astonishment.

The power Ahriman displayed filled her with both fear and wonder.

This psionic power was akin to a god's.

Ahriman gently pushed his right hand, and the ship was swept by psionics into the real universe.

They emerged in the Manros system.

The frozen crew suddenly returned to normal, finding themselves in the Manros system with the Ragefang inexplicably present.

Ahriman had already teleported all crew members to their designated posts for emergency situations.

The ship's Void Shields activated.

The engaged Imperium and Red Corsairs fleets immediately opened fire on the uninvited guest.

The Void Shields held for only a brief ten minutes.

But before the ship could be destroyed by the torrent of fire, the psionic barrier Ahriman erected withstood the subsequent attacks.

Ahriman himself was slightly surprised by his own strength. He quickly found the reason: they were close to a Warp Rift, and the strong emotional resonance from Manros was weakening reality.

"This is the power you can wield when you grow."

"This power is purer and mightier than any firearm that even a monkey can use, and only one kind of person can wield it—those who know. The ignorant barbarians can only steal a portion of this power for their own use, and yet they will still tremble and cry out 'a god has descended' when those who know wield it!"

Ahriman lowered his arms and turned to face Onaas.

The Navigator was stunned.

As Ahriman slowly raised his left hand, the entire ship instantly traversed several light-seconds, teleporting outside Manros orbit.

"Will I... be able to do this someday?" Onaas asked, trembling.

"Yes. I will teach you."

"You'll teach me just to spread knowledge?"

"Mm..."

Ahriman did what he could.

The ship was now outside Manros orbit. Besides being able to deliver supplies to the Fierce Angels, it could also utilize one of the Chapter's three holy relics, a teleportation device, to execute a plan.

Onaas looked at the Imperium flagship outside the viewport.

Her third eye saw the Inquisitor, who shared a blood feud with her and the entire Chapter, aboard that very ship.