As much of the chips were emptied away, the atmosphere at the table changed with it.
This seemingly peaceful game was in fact rife with undercurrents. Every player relied on their own abilities to tip the scales of victory.
As a Primarch, Rogal Dorn's unconsciously leaking Warp essence affected the environment around him.
The proof was the fortress-battlement-like quads laid out before Dorn, like the Imperium's unbreakable walls shielding the chips at his side from being taken by xenos.
Trazyn, meanwhile, was a Necrontyr. Beneath that metal body lay computational power far beyond that of any biological creature.
Though these mahjong tiles had been made by Oedmeir and were impeccable in both weight and appearance, the differences in their patterns still made every tile distinct.
With nothing more than a flicker of his gaze, Trazyn could identify every tile on the table.
He had been acting all this time, deliberately suppressing his processing power so no one would suspect him of cheating in secret.
But when he saw Yvraine shamelessly relying on psychic prophecy to secure victory, Trazyn's heart began to stir.
Among those present, only Shadowsun of the T'au was an ordinary mortal. She could fight only with her own talent and luck, so she faced immense pressure against these monsters.
How was this tiny game of mahjong not a reflection of how the major factions of the Warhammer world operated?
The Necrontyr's cutting-edge technology, the Aeldari's psychic gifts, and the Imperium of Man's gene-forged Primarchs, impossible to tell apart from daemons or humans.
Their existence proved that in the dark Warhammer universe, regardless of the means used, victory alone was absolute justice!
And those so-called rules were merely a flimsy excuse to lure opponents into sitting down and playing mahjong with you!
Everyone, human or monster, was showing