Scholar's Death

In the corridor of the Emperor's Dream, two figures were walking side by side. One was tall with ruddy skin, while the other was short and thin, and the scepter in his hand was even taller than himself.

These two were none other than Primarch Magnus of the Thousand Sons and Malcador Sigillites. By this time, the meeting had ended, and after bidding a hasty farewell to his guards, Magnus followed Sigillites onto the Emperor's Dream.

Of course, he hadn't given up.

"That was just an accident, Malcador, I have a way to handle it! Trust me!"

The Sigillites seal stopped and looked up at the Crimson King, who was much taller than him.

The latter tried to remain calm, but her eyes were filled with fear and doubt, as well as a sense of unreality that she was in a dream.

He seemed to think that the Emperor's verdict and the entire Council of Nikaea were all an unreal dream. None of this was real; his father couldn't possibly be so cruel as to turn his legion into a joke.

"Do you know where we are right now, Magnus?" Malcador asked suddenly, looking at him.

"What?"

"Where are we now?" Malcador broke the sentence down in a way that could be described as humiliating, pronouncing each word clearly so that Magnus could hear him.

The latter looked down at him, his posture one of looking down, yet his expression was somewhat humble, even forgetting that he should be angry at this attitude.

Were we aboard the Emperor's Dream?

"Yes." Malcador forced himself to ignore the questioning tone and not laugh at the ridiculous question.

"We're on the Emperor's Dream, and the Council of Nikaea is over. Over, you understand, Magnus? Your experiment has completely failed, and the Imperium will not hold a second Council of Nikaea."

"But--"

"--No buts. One meeting is enough. There will be no other reason to gather this group together. Do you know how much manpower and resources the Imperium has spent on this meeting? The Great Crusade is not over yet. Think about that."

"But I really do have a way; I can save that Remembrancers!"

Magnus did not respond to Malcador's arguments; he simply waved his arms stubbornly, even half-squatting down to try and be more persuasive—he wanted to communicate at eye level with Malcador, but the Sigillites simply couldn't be bothered to look at his single eye.

"So?"

Malcador once again suppressed the urge to sneer. He wasn't usually one to engage in such sarcastic remarks, and there was a reason for his current behavior.

"What proof can you get by saving him?"

"At least I can prove I have a remedy!"

"Then you can start the experiment again?" Malcador shook his head. "Endlessly sacrificing twelve Servitor to activate that blasphemous instrument, endlessly recruiting volunteers to throw their souls into the Warp to try their luck?"

"You don't understand, Malcador!" Magnus began anxiously to explain. "The Remembrancers's story was truly a complete accident. I've conducted over a hundred experiments, and no one has ever had their soul suddenly vanish like him!"

"You're the one who doesn't understand, Magnus. You have absolutely no idea what kind of place it is. You and your legion call it the Great Ocean, but that's just a one-sided, extremely narrow-minded name."

The Sigillites stepped forward, emphasizing his words: "Only the most foolish and short-sighted would truly believe that the Warp is a harmless, gentle ocean. You only have one eye left, and that eye is completely blind to the truth."

Magnus was stunned. He hadn't expected to receive such a harsh evaluation from the Hand of the Sigillites. The words "stupid" and "shortsighted" were like a poison that began to seep into the heart of the Crimson King.

He clenched his fists, and the voice he had heard not long ago echoed in his ears again—then, in the next second, a cold psychic energy slammed him against the wall of the Emperor's Dream.

The world suddenly went dark, and only the Sigillites, dressed in black robes, stood before him, holding a scepter, his eyes flashing with psychic light as sharp as swords. His aged face was devoid of emotion, only as calm as an abyss.

"Malcador?!" Magnus exclaimed in shock.

He was stunned by the sudden attack from the Sigillites, so much so that he even forgot he should be angry and fight back. But this was only the beginning, far from the end. The Sigillites looked at him coldly and slowly walked up to him.

He stared at Magnus, and for a fleeting moment, the Primarch even felt that the Sigillites would kill him. Those eyes were too cold, devoid of any humanity, and the psionic light overshadowed everything else.

Instinctively, Magnus bent his fingers and made several complex gestures; he even prepared to chant incantations to activate the spell.

At that moment, Malcador spoke again.

"Two hours have passed since the meeting ended, and you haven't made any progress. You are a Primarch, Magnus. You possess physique and intelligence far exceeding that of ordinary people; ten million ordinary people combined cannot compare to you. Yet, you seem to lack one of the most basic functions of a human being."

The Sigillites pointed to his ear.

"You won't listen to anyone," he said. "Everyone's words, even your father's, just go in one ear and out the other."

"What are you trying to say?!" Magnus roared. "Put me down! Are you crazy?!"

The Sigillites ignored his roar and continued speaking in a cold and calm manner. His voice was gentle, like a teacher lecturing to students at a desk.

"Your brothers oppose your misuse of psychic powers, so you dismiss them as ignorant fools. The lords and officials oppose you, so you call them witch hunters, labeling them with the names of a group of murderers from Ancient Terra. What, you think you're a murdered witch? They may be innocent, but you are not."

"Put me down!" Magnus roared again. "Fine, if you won't listen, I'll go find my father!"

"Really? This is your only request?"

"You must put me down! Listen, there's still a chance to salvage this," Father didn't understand—

"--He doesn't understand?" Malcador finally sneered. "What do you think he doesn't understand? Your arrogance truly opens my eyes, Magnus."

He closed his eyes and began to calm himself. Magnus heard him exhaling slowly, his posture frail and aged, as if he were truly an old man in his twilight years.

The Crimson King did not let this hard-won opportunity slip away. Being ambushed with psychic energy was a disgrace to Psyker like him, but he still had the power to retaliate.

His previous attempts to persuade him with words were merely to avoid making the situation too ugly. Since Malcador didn't want to listen to him, there was no need for him to make the conversation more dignified.

A piercing Blue Radiance suddenly shone from his single eye, but Malcador, as if anticipating it, opened his eyes at the opportune moment and sent Magnus out of the darkness with a wave of his hand.

In an instant, the light returned, and Magnus fell heavily to the ground. He looked up and saw the Master of Mankind. The latter looked down at him expressionlessly, his eyes devoid of any emotion, yet they deeply wounded Magnus.

The Crimson King gritted his teeth, got up, and forced out a greeting, bowing his head. "Father."

"Magnus," The Emperor nodded slightly. "You said you wanted to see me, and now I'm right here in front of you. What do you want to say?"

"I—" Magnus opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat, and he couldn't even make a sound.

Several seconds passed before he finally managed to gather his thoughts and begin to explain to his father, "--The Remembrancers's incident was just an accident, Father. I can still make amends."

"Bellros von Sharp."

". What?"

"His name is Bellros von Sharp," The Emperor said. "You can't even remember the name of the only person who stood up for you?"

Magnus did not answer the question; for some reason, he chose to glossed over it and went on to focus on the issue of "remedy."

"Father, I beg you to hear my plea. Bellros's soul is lost in the Great Ocean, but that's no big deal. Before the Ocean Current Device was destroyed, I used a tracking spell in the Great Ocean. I saw where his soul was, and now all it takes is a ritual to bring his soul back from there!"

"And then?" The Emperor asked.

"Then," Magnus murmured, his expression growing increasingly bewildered, until finally, he lowered his head like a helpless child.

Yes, and then what? What happens next? Reverse everything? That's impossible unless he uses psychic powers to manipulate the consciousness of the attendees. Otherwise, how can they change their minds after watching the whole thing?

"I said I've been too lenient with you, but you seem not to have heard me, Magnus," The Emperor said calmly. "Just like every piece of advice and warning you've passively forgotten in the past."

"Father."

"Both I and your brothers have warned you to be careful of the Warp and to study related knowledge. Unfortunately, you simply didn't listen, time and time again, you forgot these words, whether passively or actively."

"I was simply pursuing knowledge, Father," Magnus said hesitantly, still head bowed. "Is that wrong?"

The Emperor did not answer, but instead emitted a surge of psionic energy. It was neither a gentle touch nor a "request for conversation." This surge was as violent as a tsunami, even surpassing the perilous waves that Magnus had experienced in the Great Ocean.

Its mere appearance instantly shattered Magnus's grasp of the real world, transporting his consciousness to another realm. Magnus began to scream as he stared directly at a blazing sun.

He instinctively reached out his hands, trying to cover his eyes to escape the light, but he couldn't do it at all. The psychic power belonging to the Master of Mankind relentlessly forced him to keep his eyes wide open.

Immediately following, under the influence of the surging psionic energy around him, a vast ocean of knowledge began to bombard Magnus's brain. Countless puzzles swept in, so vast that even as the Primarch, Magnus could only comprehend a small portion of them.

He continued screaming because the rest of him was destroying him. They were incomprehensible, unobservable, and even unseen, yet they truly existed.

The mere realization of this logical fallacy was enough to nearly cause Magnus's blood vessels to burst; he could almost hear his brain swelling and his skull groaning.

These puzzles fundamentally destroyed his arrogance and made his so-called "scholar" and "wise man" identities seem utterly ridiculous.

What scholar or wise man would want to run away from a new puzzle?

"Please stop, Father!" Magnus pleaded desperately. "I understand, I know where I went wrong!"

"Didn't you thirst for knowledge, Magnus?" The fiery sun looked down at him coldly. "Now you have it."

"But I cannot understand, Father!" the Crimson King almost cried out. "They—they, I cannot comprehend what they are!"

"You don't need to understand, just feel, Magnus."

As soon as he finished speaking, Magnus actually began to feel it. Knowledge and puzzles washed over him like a boiling ocean; he was a drowning man tied to a reef, naked.

The sea breeze was scorching, the waves were icy cold, and the crashing tides were more painful than the strikes of lightning. All of that swept over him, completely engulfing him. He began to drown, for the first time in his life.

How ridiculous this is! If knowledge is likened to water, then Magnus is a free sailfish, able to swim swiftly in the sea of knowledge.

But now? He's drowning. The knowledge he's pursued his entire life is right in front of him, yet he can't understand it at all, and is even being killed by it.

In the twilight between life and death, Magnus's soul and consciousness began to tremble, and it was in this instant that he saw himself—to be precise, he saw a single eye, an eye that shone with Blue Radiance.

It was not the Radiance of psychic energy, but another kind of light.

The scorching heat of the flames abruptly ceased, perception ended, and senses returned to reality. Magnus, soaked to the bone, knelt on the ground, his robes a deep crimson, as if drenched in blood. The Emperor still stood before him, as if nothing had changed.

"Father?" Magnus asked weakly. "Are you there, Father?"

He looked up, but all he could see was darkness. He saw nothing, felt nothing. This sensation terrified him so much that he knelt down again.

"I have stripped you of your psychic gifts," The Emperor declared calmly, as if nothing had just happened. "This is your foundation, your greatest source of pride, but without destruction, there can be no construction. You must begin anew, Magnus."

"Coco, I can't see, Father," Magnus said, bewildered and almost forgetting his anger.

"Do you think your remaining eye is real?" The Emperor asked.

He turned around and left the room.

This chapter is 4k words long.

Also, the code.