Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne

The next day.

In truth, the Underhive had no tomorrow in any meaningful sense.

After all, there was no sun here at all. Looking up, one saw only a maze of steel pipes and low "clouds" formed by radiation.

The only time worth spending brainpower remembering for the Underhive scavengers was probably the day, once every seven days, when the upper and Mid-hives collectively discharged all kinds of garbage and waste gas.

Normally, countless scavengers would gather at the various garbage discharge points like a swarm of carrion maggots, waiting for a rare "harvest day."

In the past, Alvin would never have stayed in the "doghouse." He would have camped out by the garbage outlet a day in advance.

But now, he no longer had to do that. He could simply sleep until he woke up.

Before getting the system, he had to work himself to the bone like a wage slave. After getting the system, he still had to work himself to the bone. What would have been the point of getting it otherwise?

Woken by his growling stomach, Alvin gulped down a serving of Nutrient Paste.

To be honest, the taste was rather hard to swallow. It was a flavorless paste that even seemed to stick in his throat.

In the past, having a serving of Nutrient Paste like this would have been the life many Underhive dwellers dreamed of. But ever since returning from The Boys' world, it truly seemed a little too shabby for him.

"Eh, I'll make do. At least I don't have to eat garbage, right?"

Alvin consoled himself inwardly, frowning as he swallowed the last mouthful of Nutrient Paste.

"It should be about twenty-four hours since the last injection."

After filling his stomach, Alvin turned his attention back to "psychic power," but the situation seemed slightly different this time.

Inside the crude "doghouse" welded together from sheet metal, the temperature seemed to have dropped slightly, and frost had condensed on the metal walls.

"I can use psychic power?" Alvin's eyes flickered, and he was instantly overjoyed. But afraid it was merely false hope, he closed his eyes and focused his mental strength.

The "psychic power" he had initially been unable to control with his own will had now been successfully stirred by him. Though extremely weak and completely incomparable to the power of an "A-class" Psyker, there was no doubt about it—his psychic power had grown!

The discovery brought a delighted smile to Alvin's face, but it also added several more worries.

"If it can continue growing, does that mean I might one day have a chance to become an Alpha-level Psyker?"

What delighted him was that an Alpha-level Psyker could not exactly walk unhindered through the Warhammer Universe, but would at least possess the power to protect himself.

What worried him was that, according to the mainstream understanding of the Imperium of Man, Alpha-level Psykers were an extremely dangerous and extremely rare group. Their minds were inherently unstable.

At the slightest mishap, they could be devoured by Warp Daemons, triggering a disaster capable of destroying an entire planet!

"Forget it. What's the use of thinking that far ahead?" Alvin suddenly laughed at himself and raised a hand to pat his face. "I'm only an A-class Psyker right now. What does the Alpha level have to do with me?"

There was no need to torment himself in the present over things that might happen in the future!

Alvin shook his head and cast away all distracting thoughts. Then he took out the "permanent Compound V" he kept hidden close to his body. Licking his lips, he revealed a fervent look in his eyes. "A-class Psyker... I can finally say that I barely have a shred of self-preservation in the Underhive!"

With that, he injected the entire dose into his body without hesitation.

That familiar sensation surged up once more. A glimmer of azure light filled Alvin's pupils.

Unlike before, this time, his soul seemed to be drawn away, briefly separating from his body.

Pulled by an invisible force, he traveled to the destination of all living souls—to the "High Heavens," filled with boundless surging power and seemingly blended from countless colorful dyes into a state of Chaos!

He was like a burning flame. Within the "High Heavens," formed from the emotions and thoughts of all living beings and filled with chaotic feelings, he was extraordinarily conspicuous!

One terrifying, nauseating Daemon after another seemed to sense his presence.

That soul, a burning flame, shone so brightly in the eyes of the Daemons that they swarmed over from all directions like sharks that had caught the scent of blood.

"Is this the world Psykers perceive?!"

Alvin's face turned deathly pale, and terror flashed through his eyes.

Although he had guessed that the Warp might be terrifying, only experiencing that soul-piercing fear firsthand could make him understand how laughable and childish his previous mental preparations had been!

The Warp—a world that shifted like the tides, filled with the emotional fluctuations of sapient life: hatred, rage, violence, lust, and countless other feelings. Those extreme negative emotions gave birth to Warp Daemons. It was a world without matter or life, and even without time or rules!

"Concentrate your consciousness. Control your emotions!"

Drawing on the memories of his previous life, Alvin began consciously controlling the leakage of his psychic power.

Of course, he did not notice that a cold, pale sun had appeared in the Warp at some unknown point. Its icy radiance tore apart the Daemons surging toward him.

When he opened his eyes again, Alvin's consciousness had left the Warp.

He had returned to the material world, breathing its pungent radioactive waste gas. For the first time in his life, he felt fortunate to be living in the material world.

The entire world seemed to have become different in his eyes, yet it also seemed as though nothing had changed.

At the same time, Alvin clearly sensed that his soul had left an indelible mark in the Warp!

Every time he used psychic power, it would stir ripples in the Warp, attracting the attention of Daemons.

The stronger he became, the more dangerous it would be!

"Psychic power really is a double-edged sword."

Alvin rubbed his throbbing brow, his face bitter. "If I weren't trying to escape the Underhive, I'd never want to come into contact with the Warp for the rest of my life."

After composing himself, he carefully buried the remaining dose of temporary Compound V. Then he put his tattered clothes back on and ducked out of the "doghouse."

Today was the scavengers' "harvest day."

As an Underhive scavenger, he naturally couldn't miss this "great" festival, could he?

Alvin understood one principle well: never flaunt your wealth.

Especially in an environment like the Underhive, where human scum were everywhere. If anyone discovered that a person had something worth taking, there was a good chance that the next day, that person's corpse would be found beside the wastewater pipes.

The garbage dump he was heading for lay in the southwest corner, and Alvin arrived not long afterward.

But the scavengers who usually clung to the towering garbage heaps like parasites, rummaging through them for anything useful, were nowhere to be seen.

The enormous garbage dump was eerily silent!

This made no sense!

Today was the Underhive's "harvest day." There should have been plenty of scavengers gathered in the dump, searching for useful items.

Yet the entire garbage truck was silent, permeated by an atmosphere of deathly stillness.

"Something happened!" Alvin caught the scent of blood in the air. That was the first thought that surfaced in his mind.

His expression shifted slightly. He lowered his body, did his best to silence his footsteps, and slowly felt his way forward like a worm through the narrow gaps between the mountains of garbage.

Soon, Alvin saw the "reason."

He finally understood why there wasn't a single scavenger in sight despite it being the "harvest day."

The answer lay behind the garbage heap. Countless scavengers had been decapitated, their heads then piled into a short hill in an extremely brutal manner.

Streams formed from the converging blood soaked the entire ground, giving the earth a scarlet hue and filling the air with a pungent smell.

The countless skulls deliberately stacked into a mound had twisted, ferocious expressions. Their pale, terrified eyes seemed to tell of the horror they had endured.

Alvin froze, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

He knew very well who had made this "jingguan"—this bloody tomb built from skulls, where hundreds of lives had been buried.

Khorne thirsted for blood, battle, and skulls. He was one of the four great gods within the Warp's High Heavens!

Only a Chaos cult worshiping Khorne would commit such a heinous atrocity!

Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne!