Curious Little One

The Emperor left.

Just as abruptly as he had arrived, after that "old friends' meeting" whose truth only Zhou Beichen knew, the Master of Mankind did not linger long on Colchis. The very next morning, escorted by the Custodians, he boarded that flagship like a moving mountain once more. It rose soundlessly, pierced the clouds, became a rapidly dimming star on the horizon, and finally vanished into the vast sea of stars.

He had come quickly and left just as quickly, as though it had all been an overly realistic dream.

Colchis returned to its usual rhythm. The light of the twin suns remained pale, sandstorms still occasionally swept across the newly built streets of Perfect City, and the gears of the labor-point system continued to click away. The only proof that the Master of Mankind had ever descended upon this world, aside from the enduring topic of conversation on everyone's lips and that awe-inspiring figure etched into their memories, was one tangible "relic"—the Primarch Magnus, clad in a scholar's robes, with dark red skin and a single eye brimming with curiosity.

Lorgar was extraordinarily delighted that Magnus had remained behind. Ever since learning of his origins and the existence of his brothers, a sense of loneliness had lingered deep within him. Zhou Beichen was his father, his mentor, and his guide, but they were ultimately different. Now, a "brother" who shared similar blood, and possessed equal potential and intelligence, stood before him. It filled him with an unprecedented instinctive closeness and joy.

He could barely wait to take up the responsibilities of an "older brother," showing Magnus around Perfect City—from the central monument, to the bustling labor-point market, then to the newly built schools and collective farms on the outskirts. He patiently explained how Earthly Heaven operated, described the core principles of "equivalent exchange," and introduced how such "miracles" as Colchis Clay, purified salt, windmills, and paper had been created bit by bit.

Magnus truly was like a curious little child. His lone eye, burning with psychic fire, held intense interest in nearly everything. He was polite and well-mannered, fitting the image of a learned prince. Yet beneath that modest exterior, his words constantly betrayed a deeply rooted pride. It was not deliberate contempt, but absolute confidence in his own wisdom and strength—an attitude as natural as looking down upon all living things from the summit of knowledge.

He seemed only mildly interested in the technical principles Lorgar described. What fascinated him more was the "process" by which these things had been "developed."

"So, from a kind of... common clay and the secretion of some herb, you discovered a way to create this sturdy material and this transparent substance?" Magnus lightly tapped the monument's base with his finger, his lone eye gleaming thoughtfully. "A very interesting approach. You abandoned complex psychic guidance and high-energy physics, instead making use of the most basic laws of reaction in the material realm. This is... wisdom belonging to mortals. Though inefficient, it does have its own unique merits."

When Lorgar showed him his unique golden Purifying Flame, Magnus's interest reached its peak. He could clearly sense the intense orderliness and purifying properties the flame possessed toward Warp energy. It was completely different from the school of thought he studied, which leaned more toward mastering and directing chaotic psychic power.

The two held many deep discussions on the nature of psychic power, methods of application, and its interaction with the material universe. Magnus possessed vast knowledge, and his understanding of the Warp far surpassed Lorgar's at present. Many of the theories and hypotheses he raised opened Lorgar's eyes, giving him new insights into his own power and new directions for thought. Lorgar's practical experience, emphasizing control and purification, likewise gave Magnus inspiration distinct from purely theoretical study.

This kind of exchange between brothers should have been a good thing. Yet as Zhou Beichen watched from the side, his brow furrowed ever tighter.

He noticed that Magnus lacked the necessary reverence for knowledge itself. He was too confident—confident to the point of arrogance. He seemed to believe that with his wisdom and strength, any knowledge and any mystery he encountered would inevitably be fully understood and perfectly controlled. He did not view the Warp as a mysterious sea filled with the unknown and danger, but more like a vast, somewhat chaotic library waiting for him to conquer and organize.

After one dinner, Zhou Beichen tried to give him a warning, using a ready-made negative example.

"Magnus, knowledge is power, but it can also be a trap." Zhou Beichen cut into a piece of roasted sand-beast meat and spoke as if casually. "Take Bishop Lot, for example. He thought he had obtained the knowledge and blessings of a true god, and what happened? He turned himself and his entire diocese into a breeding ground for Chaos. In the end, not even scraps remained. There's no harm in keeping a little caution toward the unknown."

Magnus elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. His lone eye turned toward Zhou Beichen, carrying a tolerant smile, as though a teacher were looking at a student who had asked a childish question.

"Father... Zhou," he carefully chose his form of address, his tone calm but filled with unquestionable certainty. "I understand your concern. But forgive me for saying so: the example you have given is not universal. Bishop Lot was a... mortal. His will was weak and his soul impure. He was fundamentally incapable of truly understanding the essence of the power he touched, so its backlash was inevitable."

He lifted his chin slightly, his dark red skin glimmering under the lamplight. "But I am different from mortals. I was born to understand mysteries. My soul and intellect are sufficient to bear and command knowledge that would be fatal to mortals. Fear comes from ignorance. When the light of wisdom shines brightly enough, darkness naturally has nowhere to hide."

Zhou Beichen nearly choked, cursing inwardly: You brat, this "I'm different from mortals" spiel is exactly like your father the Emperor! No wonder later...

Still unwilling to give up, he changed his angle. "But perhaps some boundaries should never be crossed in the first place? Blindly pursuing all knowledge may open boxes that should not be opened."

At this, Magnus's lone eye brightened with even greater interest. He seemed to enjoy this sort of debate. Leaning forward slightly, he spoke in an almost sermon-like tone:

"Father Zhou, have you heard of Plato's 'Allegory of the Cave'? A group of prisoners are chained inside a cave from childhood and can see only shadows cast upon the wall, so they believe those shadows are the real world. Then one breaks free of his shackles, leaves the cave, and sees the true sun and all things. He returns to tell the others, only to be mocked and rejected."

He spread his hands as though embracing invisible knowledge. "The universe we inhabit may be an even larger cave. The Warp, those unknown domains, may be the vast world outside that cave. So-called forbidden knowledge may be the flame that illuminates the true world. Because we fear the flame may burn us, should we forever remain in the cave, content to admire false shadows? Would that not be an even greater tragedy and ignorance? A true sage should dare to leave the cave, touch the flame, understand it, and master it, rather than forever turn his back on the light because of possible danger."

Zhou Beichen was left dumbfounded.

Fuck! Here it is! This is it! Plato's cave metaphor! In the original story, Magnus used this exact logic to refute the Emperor's restrictions on psychic power. He thought he was the vanguard seeking truth, while the Emperor and those conservatives were prisoners trapped in the cave!

Looking at Magnus's supremely confident expression, as though he held the truth of the universe in his hands, Zhou Beichen suddenly felt deeply powerless—and an enormous pressure as a temporary "childcare nanny."

He knew there was something wrong, something dangerous, about Magnus's theories, but for the moment he could not find arguments powerful enough to convince this arrogant Primarch. He could hardly spoil the future outright: Quit showing off, kid. One day, it'll be this very theory of yours that gets you to punch through the Webway, utterly ruins your father's grand plan for humanity's revival, and turns you into a pile of mangled flesh and tears, could he?

He neither possessed enough theoretical knowledge to crush Magnus in debate nor had any way to conjure a "lesson" that would make Magnus painfully recognize his own limitations. It was not as if he could go provoke some great daemon of Chaos right now just to teach Magnus a lesson.

The risk was far too great. One misstep, and all of Colchis might be dragged down with it.

Left with no alternative, he could only seek out Lorgar in private and earnestly instruct him:

"Son, your little brother... he's smart, but maybe a little too smart, and his path might be a little wild. Keep an eye on him, especially when he's studying strange things or showing excessive interest in the Warp. He's too confident. That can easily lead to trouble."

Seeing the "old father" concern written all over Zhou Beichen's face, Lorgar did not quite understand why his father was so wary of Magnus's thirst for knowledge, but he still nodded solemnly.

"I understand, Father. I will keep watch over Magnus's research and ensure that he does not come into contact with dangerous things."

Seeing how dependable Lorgar looked, Zhou Beichen relaxed a little, but the stone in his heart remained suspended.