I Had Never Felt This Way

The Emperor knew all the causes and effects. The fog before his eyes parted, allowing him to see everything that had happened in the Warp.

Doom Slayer! His spirit had definitely fallen into the Warp! It had been discovered by the Chaos Four Gods, passed around for a time, and then returned to the real universe.

The Four Chaos Gods had investigated it in the Warp for millions of years, yet could not uncover its mystery.

Doom Slayer's hatred of demons had sublimated into a concept. This hatred naturally countered demons, and even the Chaos Four Gods found it difficult to profane its essence.

The Emperor walked through the desert, his steps light and his lips curled upward as he hummed an ancient tune, innocent as a child, yet tears hung from the corners of his eyes.

In the illusion, endless information poured into his mind. Beyond the universe, there were other universes, and human civilization was tremendously prosperous.

The Four Chaos Gods were not beyond all solution. A great existence from the multiverse had descended into this universe. Though it was only a fragment, its essence was immensely powerful, and it possessed infinite possibilities by nature.

As he continued forward, the Emperor proceeded with utmost caution, constantly reining in his own power, afraid of breaking through the trial barrier released by the gene-seed.

He observed the demons he had never seen before. Though they differed from Warp demons, they were even more dangerous.

The demons chanted blasphemous words. Memetic infection constantly corroded the surrounding environment, wearing away the souls of the test subjects.

If a test subject failed and did not complete the trial before their soul was contaminated, the gene-seed would destroy everything that had been infected.

In the center of the wasteland, Li Tang's slender body fought the demons. A ring of demon corpses surrounded him. Panting, he dared not relax for even a moment as he continued driving the demons back.

Death! Rebirth! Death! Rebirth!

When the demons were killed, they would be reborn. When he was killed, he would be reborn.

He and the demons seemed trapped in a time loop, doing something utterly meaningless.

Sometimes, he did not even want to kill the demons anymore, because it was completely pointless.

"This is a great trial."

A clear boy's voice reached his ears, carrying the timidity of someone who had not spoken with another person for a very long time, as well as the majesty of a god.

During a break between killing demons, Li Tang looked up. A black-haired boy sat on a rock, radiating a faint golden light. The demons treated him as if he were nothing, sweeping past him and charging straight at Li Tang.

The golden radiance felt very familiar to him. It was the majestic golden figure from the laboratory.

Tears flowed from the black-haired boy's eyes, yet he was utterly joyful. He looked at Li Tang without sorrow, joy, or any trace of pity. "Only by passing his trial can you gain recognition."

"That power that swept across the universe, unstoppable by anyone!"

After saying this, he left without giving Li Tang the slightest hint of how to obtain help.

"Gene-Warlock." The Emperor's consciousness returned to reality. Seeing the body on the operating table twitching incessantly, he said in a toneless voice, "Disconnect the life-support equipment. It is serving no purpose."

"A generous powerhouse gives everyone a chance. If they cannot even pass a simple trial, they have no right to inherit that generosity."

"How many gene-seeds have been cultivated from Number Twenty-One's genetic material?"

"My lord." The warlock lowered his posture and reported truthfully, "Only three hundred."

The Emperor was somewhat surprised. The genetic material of the Primarchs from the other Legions had produced several times as many seeds.

"Gene-Warlocks, the Custodes will take over the work here. You have completed your task well."

As he spoke, the Emperor waved his hand and scattered a field of psychic radiance. "Once you leave this place, you will forget all your memories."

The Gene-Warlocks bent their bodies and dragged their robes away. They had no need to question the Emperor's decision.

"Custodes!" The Emperor's majestic voice suddenly rose as he ordered his most loyal servants, "Put all three hundred gene-seeds into use. Cultivate qualified warriors regardless of the cost!"

Regardless of the cost!

Even the Custodes' formidable composure could not stop their hearts from trembling when they heard those four words.

At present, thirty thousand people had produced not a single qualified warrior. A simple calculation showed that at least one hundred million lives would have to be sacrificed, all for three hundred Twenty-First Legion warriors!

"Prepare for the worst." The Emperor saw through his servant's thoughts. His next words left the Custodes shocked, even jealous: "A billion people, ten billion people—even if I must exhaust the population of an entire world, I will have them."

All this time, the Custodes had been created personally by the Emperor, who had also personally gifted each Custodian their weapon.

Now, the Emperor seemed somewhat unfamiliar to the Custodes. Was he still that rational Emperor?

It was as if a child had seen something they loved and wanted it at any cost, without considering the consequences.

The Emperor used psychic power to write incantations in the operating room, raising a psychic barrier to conceal it from the omnipresent gaze of the great power in the Warp.

After finishing all this, he left with a Custodian guard, striding away.

"I will help you forget all this." The Emperor walked forward and said to the Custodian following behind him, "Alpharius!"

"Father! Why?"

The person wearing golden armor was not a Custodian. He was one of the twenty Primarchs, a Primarch blown to Terra by a Warp storm.

The gene-father of the Twentieth Legion—Alpharius!

"You and Malcador taught me to keep secrets strictly. Am I not qualified to keep a secret?"

In the operating room, Alpharius had witnessed everything. He knew that his father had ordered the Custodes to oversee the cultivation of his brother's progeny, but knew nothing else.

He did not know what the Emperor had seen within the gene-seed's barrier, or why he had made such a decision.

Now, he was being ordered to erase the memories in his mind for the sake of a secret he was not allowed to know.

"Of course..." Alpharius, clad in golden armor, hesitated before saying, "If you require it, or if I am not yet qualified to know, then you may proceed."

The instant Alpharius finished speaking, the Emperor's hand pierced through his brain. It caused no harm, merely extracting a segment of memory and squeezing it into specks of starlight.

Only then did Alpharius understand. He finally understood that his father had not been discussing it with him, but issuing an unavoidable notification.

"What did I forget?" As the starlight before him faded, Alpharius knew that a portion of his memory had been deleted.

"A secret you do not need to keep."

His father's voice came from ahead. The Primarch turned his head toward the operating room guarded by the Custodes and protected by a psychic barrier. He suppressed the curiosity he should not have had, then turned and left.

"How could you give such an order?"

Malcador sounded furious as he pushed open the door and entered the Emperor's private room. He saw his old friend standing before the window, looking into the distance through the stained glass.

His nose caught the scent of alcohol. An opened bottle of red wine sat on the table, and a goblet had been filled with rich wine.

"You should explain yourself, shouldn't you?"

Malcador quickly realized that the Emperor already knew he was coming. He had even calculated his arrival time and awakened a glass of treasured Old Terra wine in advance.

He was nearly worked to death! All for this newborn empire, with its countless departments that seemed never to be enough!

Yet this man still had the leisure to drink fine wine and admire the scenery, looking perfectly at ease. Malcador even wanted to rap him over the head a few times.

"My old friend!"

The Emperor turned around. Facing the old friend he had known for so long, the ancient ally who had fought beside him through endless years, he smiled!

A smile appeared on that face, a smile that had gradually faded over tens of thousands of years amid one distrustful encounter after another.

It was somewhat stiff, but beautiful.

Malcador stood frozen in place, tears welling in his eyes as he gazed at the genuine smile on his old friend's face.

The Emperor of the past had been a talkative, lively man. He had smiled, shown expressions, and experienced joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

As his psychic power gradually grew stronger, he foresaw humanity's decline. He told his friends of the prophecy, hoping to extinguish the dark future together with the Perpetuals.

Unfortunately, some people intoxicated by the glory of the Golden Age did not believe what the Emperor said. They even suspected that he had gone mad under the influence of psychic power.

Gradually, the Emperor distanced himself from them.

He stopped discussing the prophecy in public. The expressions on his face grew fewer and fewer. He gradually became cold and neurotic, beginning preparations for the future foretold in his prophecy and gathering every technological resource that could rebuild humanity.

Now, Malcador saw his old friend smile again, a smile that came from the heart.

It was stiff, but joyful.

"Malcador, my old friend!" The Emperor's hand trembled slightly as he lifted the goblet and offered it to him. His eyes held joy and tears as well.

"I have never been this happy. I don't know how to describe it to you..."

The Emperor's face was faintly flushed, whether from alcohol or overwhelming excitement. His speech was somewhat halting. He wanted to tell Malcador everything he had seen, yet stammered amid his urgent excitement.

"I can hardly wait to share it with you..."

"Don't share it with me!" Malcador's expression changed as he abruptly cut off his old friend. "I already bear too many secrets. They've bent my back."

"Just tell me what you saw."

The Emperor lowered his head and gently rubbed the goblet with his fingers, remaining silent for a long time. When he looked up, his gaze was firm and his voice forceful. He spoke two words that shocked Malcador:

"Hope!"

"Smash~" The goblet shattered. The priceless wine treasured by the Emperor splashed across the floor, and Malcador was truly shaken.

In the dark universe watched over by the Chaos Gods, the word "hope" was the most illusory—and the most precious.

The Emperor pulled Malcador into his arms. Both their eyes were bloodshot.

"Though it is tiny and still frail, hope has truly come!"