Desperate Fertile Soil

When the spark of consciousness reignited, the first thing Liu Zhipeng felt was "love."

But this "love" was utterly different from the warm, decaying, indolent, and satisfying love of the Father in Nurgling Garden. It was a cold, fanatical love filled with expectation and obedience. Like an invisible net, it wrapped around his thoughts and guided his will toward a distant, magnificent existence. He could sense countless minds like his own whispering prayers within the net, chanting the same silent hymn.

"For the Four-Armed Emperor..." "For the Day of Ascension..."

"For the savior among the stars..."

Then came the sensation of his body. He was no longer that springy, soft, seamless Nurgling. He had "limbs" now—long, sturdy, and full of strength. His skin was tough and cold, as though covered in a fine layer of carapace. And behind him, there seemed to be something extra...

He struggled to open his eyes.

His vision was dim, and the air reeked of machine oil, sweat, and sour, rotten low-grade nutrient paste. He lay in a narrow metal incubator, covered in a slick layer of amniotic fluid. He tried moving his body, then saw his "hand"—a claw covered in pale purple carapace, with three fingers and an opposable thumb.

"Fuck..."

He let out a strange cry somewhere between an infant's wail and an alien hiss.

A figure immediately leaned over him. It was a woman in a miner's uniform. Her eyes were vacant, and her face bore a holy yet numb smile. Her forehead bulged slightly, and her skin had an unhealthy waxy pallor. Yet her gaze upon Liu Zhipeng was full of maternal radiance.

"My child... my little savior..." she murmured dreamily, reaching out with a trembling hand to stroke Liu Zhipeng's head.

Only then did Liu Zhipeng realize that he was now a newborn. A fourth-generation hybrid newborn of the Genestealer Cult. A genestealer.

He closed his eyes, and the cold notification sounded in his mind as expected.

[Second Life: Begun]

[Current Identity: Fourth-Generation Genestealer Cult Hybrid (Male)]

[Current Location: Hive World - Viridia Prime - Third Mining District - Lower Residential Zone]

"A genestealer..." Liu Zhipeng's mind went blank for a moment.

This beginning was both far "better" and far "worse" than starting as a Nurgling.

The good part was that he finally had hands and feet, and his appearance was largely no different from a human's. Fourth-generation genestealer hybrids could blend almost perfectly into human society, aside from slight abnormalities in skin color and bone structure. Their physical strength and reaction speed also far surpassed those of ordinary humans.

The bad part was that from the moment of his birth, he bore an inescapable destiny. His genes and his soul were branded with absolute loyalty to the Tyranids. His very existence was meant to work from within and without, turning the entire planet into a buffet for the hive fleet.

And the "love" linking all the believers together was the so-called Broodmind—a psychic network centered around the cult's patriarch and formed by all its followers. It could transmit emotions, share beliefs, and coordinate actions, but it was also like a spiritual shackle that prevented anyone from betraying it.

This is going to be troublesome. Liu Zhipeng felt the inescapable urge in his mind to kneel and worship the stars, then grinned. A newborn baby wearing a smile full of mischief left his "mother" utterly enchanted.

"Look, he's smiling! He's answering the call of the ancestors!"

Time passed in a dull, oppressive rhythm.

Fifteen years went by.

Liu Zhipeng, now known within the cult as Brother Peng, had grown into a tall, lean, but sturdy young man. Like the others his age, he worked as a miner in the underground mines of Viridia Prime.

Viridia was a typical Imperium mining world. The planet's surface was a wasteland with a harsh environment, while ninety-nine percent of its population lived in immense mining cities deep underground. Life here could be described with only two words: despair and numbness.

Every day, the miners worked sixteen hours in oxygen-starved, dust-filled conditions in exchange for barely enough nutrient paste and recycled water to survive. Safety regulations were little more than empty words, and mine disasters were commonplace. Even the slightest illness could rapidly worsen without treatment, until the victim was disposed of as "biological waste." Above their heads were the planetary governor, the Adeptus Mechanicus, and the representatives of the Ecclesiarchy. Like enormous leeches, they clung to this world and sucked up its minerals and labor while begrudging any return.

This was fertile soil for despair, the perfect breeding ground for the Genestealer Cult.

The cult had secretly spread here for centuries. It promised the miners that the Four-Armed Emperor from the distant star sea would descend. He was a merciful savior who would free all who suffered and lead them into a paradise without oppression or hunger.

For people living in hell, it was an irresistible hope.

Every day, Liu Zhipeng mingled among these miners. He worked efficiently and spoke little, but he was always there to lend a hand when someone needed it most.

When someone fainted from overwork, he was the first to rush over and use his superhuman strength to carry them to the rest area. When someone fell ill from malnutrition, he quietly slipped them a piece of nutrient bar he had saved, secretly laced with something extra. When an overseer servitor malfunctioned and lashed out indiscriminately with its shock whip, he always "happened" to appear in the right place and smash its controller with a "fallen" chunk of ore.

The passive ability The Father's Gaze and Love was practically in its element here, producing effects far greater than it had in Nurgling Garden.

Nurglings were merely simple-minded, but the miners here were truly desperate. Like people about to drown, they instinctively clutched at any straw they could find. And Liu Zhipeng was the warmest, most reliable straw in sight.

He never gave grand speeches or promised some distant future. He simply cared for everyone around him through the most practical actions. The innate affinity he possessed allowed him to easily enter the closed-off hearts of these miners. People trusted and admired him, even more than they feared the lofty high priests and bishops of the cult.

"Brother Peng, I owe you again." A one-armed miner named Old He gratefully accepted the waterskin Liu Zhipeng handed him.

"It's nothing, Uncle He. We're all family. Helping each other is what we should do." Liu Zhipeng answered with a smile. In the dim mine tunnel, his smile looked especially sincere.