"Before you stands a Warp-born creature that had gradually grown stronger through the endless arms race of the Real Universe."
"Couldn't we create some unique possibilities together?"
By the time Vashtorr said this, half his body had already been shredded by the Chainsword. His upper body crashed to the ground, yet he seemed utterly unaffected, as calm as though he were attending a tea party.
Qin Mo, who had been about to drive the Crone Sword into Vashtorr's head, paused.
He could not help recalling his past journey through the Warp.
The ability Vashtorr spoke of—materializing things from the Warp...
Qin Mo remembered the daemons he had slaughtered.
Logically, when daemons were in the Warp, not only should their strength have been at its peak, but they should not have been bound by physical bodies. Yet every time he cut them down, he had felt his blade bite into flesh.
How could the domains of the Chaos Gods possess stable forms? Yet both times he had ventured deep into the heart of Nurgle's Domain, he had seen exactly the same scene.
He had even been able to carve "Qin Mo was here" into Slaanesh's Bedchamber.
"We can cooperate instead of fighting to the death here."
The fingers on Vashtorr's severed arm, lying on the ground, slowly spread open and lifted.
"We can create War Machines that possess both Psychic Power and material traits. Together, we can storm the abode of gods with the Discordant Engine we create—an engine capable of breaking through even the reality field formed by Blackstone."
"Imagine it. The powerful War Machines we forge together will utterly destroy the Imperium, free humanity from its hellish plight, slaughter the detestable Adeptus Mechanicus to the last, and allow powerful technology to flourish without restraint. We will forge an eternal