"Dream on."
Verillion spat out the two words coldly.
"Is that all you wanted to say?" His gaze fell on Alvin, his eyes filled with deep disappointment. "You don't understand Commorragh, you don't understand the True Born, and you understand even less about... those slaves and half-breeds you mentioned."
"Do you really think no one tried this before?"
"No. People did, and more than once. They were all failed Kabals stirring up trouble from behind the scenes."
"And what happened afterward?"
"Those slaves, half-breeds, and Kabals were all thrown into the boiler furnaces by Viktor."
In Verillion's eyes, Alvin's arguments and proposal were filled with childish fantasies, but lacked any possibility of practical application.
He had been born in Commorragh and raised in Commorragh. He had also witnessed the bloody, brutal history of Commorragh!
The Dark City, Commorragh.
Every inch of land and every brick here was soaked in blood and cruelty.
The entire society was built upon the most brutal exploitation and oppression.
The hierarchy here had long since solidified. Naturally bred True Born possessed, from birth, status and resources that those at the bottom could never hope to reach.
Meanwhile, the half-breeds and slaves at the bottom could only enjoy a pitifully small amount of resources throughout their lives.
The Blood Performers and True Born could slaughter slaves and half-breeds at will.
Just look at how Corillion treated the half-breed guards stationed at the entrance. Before the upper-class Aeldari, these half-breeds were nothing more than tools that could be discarded, abused, and slaughtered at will.
Of course, the Imperium of Man was the same—or rather, aside from the T'au, practically every other race was like this.
What Alvin wanted to do was use Commorragh to ignite a spark here!
But it was difficult—so difficult that it was practically