Terra one hundred thousand years ago was completely different from what it is now.
The rivers have changed their courses, the mountains have not yet been covered by Imperium buildings, and the wilderness is endless. Human beings live in the gaps in these wildernesses, relying on hunting and gathering to maintain the continuation of their bloodline.
During those years, humans had just polished stone tools.
Spear, scraper, and axe, are all slowly shaped by stones and bones.
It was a time of drought, hunger, and a long time ago. Every rain was related to the survival of a people. Every sunrise meant the beginning of walking into the wilderness again to find food. Every flame extinguished reminded them that as long as the fire was cut off, they would die in the cold and darkness of the night.
Human beings at that time worshiped the rising of the sun.
For them, the sun brings light, light brings hunting vision, and also brings warmth.
And flame is something more special to them.
They revere it and fear it. The flame can cook meat, drive away wild animals, and can burn down an entire hut in an instant.
They know how to use and extinguish fire, but they still cannot truly understand why fire exists.
They can feel the burning of the flames, but cannot answer the question of where the flames come from.
Those questions are suppressed in their silence to survive.
When night fell, darkness came from all directions. They huddled in caves and huts, listening to all the sounds coming from the darkness.
The victories of hunting, the threat of severe cold and the howls of wild beasts have never ceased over the long years.
The darkness of Stars shrouded a cave, which was a small cave located between the Mountains. The entrance of the cave faced east, and some sunlight could shine in during the day. At night, only ashes and dry firewood in the cave could be used to maintain weak light.
The rock walls were smoked dark brown by fireworks, and the ground was covered with a layer of dry grass blades and animal skins.
In the dark cave, a drama between the killer and the victim is taking place.
Deep in the cave, only a dark red ember remained on the flame pile, and occasionally one or two Mars popped out.
Two torches were embedded in the cracks in the rock wall, and the flames swayed in the moist and cold air, casting shadows of varying lengths.
On the ground in the cave was a fresh animal hide, which was a wild deer hunted during the day. The four hooves were cut off, the fur was completely peeled off, and it was spread out on the rocks to dry.
The air was filled with the smell of rawhide blood and plant ash.
Neither of them spoke.
The figure at the back of the cave is bent over, holding a Spear made of Obsidian and a wooden handle.
The spear blade was ground extremely sharp, and the surface could vaguely reflect the firelight. The black stone surface was covered with fine convex and concave textures.
He looked at the back of his companion in front of him without blinking.
The companion was squatting next to the animal hide, lowering his head to inspect the wound left when he caught the prey during the day, and was unaware of the gaze behind him.
The stone spear made by Obsidian pierced the victim's throat.
The spear tip penetrated between the cervical vertebra and collarbone, passed through the trachea and blood vessels, and emerged from the other side of the throat.
The victim didn't even have time to stand up. He held his hands on the spear shaft for a moment, and then his body froze.
Blood spurted out from the fatal wound, showing a heavy crimson color under the dim firelight of the cave, splashing on the animal skins and rocks, and spraying blood all over the killer's face.
The murder may have been caused by hunger, a struggle for power, or simply hatred over an unfair distribution of a hunt.
However, until the moment Obsidian cut his flesh and blood, these reasons were no longer important.
The warm blood did not stop the killer's next move.
He stepped on the victim's abdomen and pressed the twitching body to the ground. Then he held the spear shaft with both hands and pulled out Spear from the wound that was gushing blood.
When the spear blade exited the wound, it brought out a piece of opened flesh and tissue, and the blood surged faster.
The victim was not dead, his lungs were still breathing, or rather wheezing, and there was a hoarse sound in his throat like a bellows leaking air.
He grabbed a few handfuls of his hands on the stone floor, trying to push away the oppression on his body. His hands left several bloody marks in the light near the cave entrance.
In the victim's horrified eyes, Spear stabbed his chest again.
Obsidian cut flesh and blood, and the uneven and sharp stones were covered with fragments of the victim's internal organs.
The tip of the spear penetrated through the flesh, cut the gap between the breastbones, and penetrated where the heart was.
The victim's body twitched violently, the frightened light in his eyes gradually became blurry, his pupils dilated, and some dark bloody foam overflowed from the corners of his mouth.
The killer's face remained expressionless.
He squatted in front of the person he killed, watching the body become quiet in the last round of life.
His hand still held the spear shaft, his fingers turned white from exertion, and the gaps between his nails were filled with dark red condensation.
He felt the blood of his brother.
A few drops of blood fell into his mouth.
The few drops of liquid slid along the tip of his tongue, carrying a salty taste and a fishy smell that was stronger than the blood of prey.
He swallowed it.
This was the first time he tasted his brother's blood.
He tasted the liquid that came from the same bloodline and carried the original guilt, then he stood up and walked to the edge of the cave.
There is an unpolished piece of the Rock stacked there.
The stone was so heavy that it required both hands to lift it, and its surface was rough.
He bent down, clasped his hands on the bottom of the stone, and lifted it from the ground.
This is also the first murder case in human history.
In the past, human beings have committed countless murders during the long period of time when they walked from tree branches to the ground, from the ground into caves, and from the caves to the ground again.
They have killed their own kind, their neighbors, and strangers competing for territory and prey.
They killed the old and the weak when they were hungry, they abandoned the sick and injured during migration, and they swung stone axes in anger and fear. But these were not murders.
Before this moment, human killing had a certain order.
For fighting, for food, for survival, for hatred, those behaviors can barely find an acceptable place in the ancient instincts.
But this one, this killing between brothers, is the first unforgivable murder in human history.
The slain is not an enemy, not a competitor, not a prey.
He comes from the same cave, the same hunt, the same bloodline.
He had no defense against the attacks in front of him.
This is not a war, this is not Revenge, this is not an accident.
This was a predetermined, unilateral killing.
He moved the Rock and walked to the dying brother.
The victim still had his last consciousness left, and he saw the shadow coming with the stone.
He tried to speak, his mouth opened, but only a gurgling sound came out of his throat.
Blood foam bubbled on his lips.
He raised one hand, his palm facing the killer's face, his fingers spread wide.
This action can be a prayer, a block, or an incomprehensible expression.
The killer did not understand the meaning of those gestures.
The stone was lifted high.
The light from the embers of the fire shone from the side, casting the outline of the Rock in the shadow of the cave wall.
He ignored the curses or prayers of his brothers below him.
His arms did not sway, his waist and back were tense, and all his strength was concentrated on those arms.
He stayed in that raised state for a moment.
In that moment, time seemed to stretch out.
The firelight in the cave shone on his face, illuminating the calmness in his eyes.
Then his arms fell down.
The stone fell and smashed his brother's head.
When the first sound sounded, the Rock touched the forehead bone and made a low muffled sound, like hitting wet mud.
On the second impact, the skull began to collapse and the bones fractured under the pressure.
When it fell for the third time, the bottom of the Rock was embedded in the broken skull, completely flattening the remaining bones.
Blood and brains spattered around as the stone fell. There were warm dot-like stains everywhere on the rock wall, the ground, the killer's legs and face.
Those sputter marks are like a meaningless primitive mural, recording this murder that no one witnessed.
The clear and harsh sound of skull fracture echoed through the cave.
The sound hit every rock wall and bounced back and forth in the cave, becoming duller and vaguer.
Then it spilled out along the entrance of the cave, passed through the night, and resounded throughout the mountain stream.
The sound of the wind carried the sound farther away, resounding throughout Terra.
At a level that humans have yet to understand, that sound spreads through the earth, through the ocean, through the clouds, and across the boundaries of Realspace at a speed that the sound of matter cannot match.
It penetrates into every corner, animate and inanimate, leaving traces in every crack.
Then it broke through Realspace and reached Warp.
The energy of Psychic Energy gathered and dispersed in Void, and the sound of skull breaking from Terra cave caused ripples the moment it entered this layer of space.
A new consciousness began to gather at the center of the ripples.
It does not immediately become a complete form, it is first and foremost a feeling, a primitive emotion stripped from man's first murder.
Betrayal, guilt, fear, and the taste of blood...
It absorbs the dark matter around it, takes energy from the thin perception, and slowly shapes the first body for itself.
Among Warp, a Daemons was born.
It comes from the first murder, the first fratricide, and the first betrayal of mankind.
Its existence is based on the weight of that stone, and the moment Obsidian cuts through the flesh and blood.
It symbolizes the destruction of hope and death.
That ancient name, Drach'nyen, was born at this moment.