"Lord Malcador instructed me to tell you that you may study on your own for the time being."
Bona blinked, looking at the deferential servant before him.
"All right, thank you."
Bona felt a little dejected. His father and Grandpa Malcador were both busy, leaving him stuck here with nothing to do.
But that soon changed.
Why not go visit Uncle Malak?
Bona ran all the way to the armory and saw that enormous... iron coffin?
He had heard that Uncle Malak had been badly injured in the explosion and could only live inside this huge iron coffin.
"Lord Malak is still resting," the attendant said in an emotionless mechanical voice.
"Then when will he wake up?"
"That requires a series of complicated procedures. Under normal circumstances, Lord Malak cannot be awakened lightly."
Well, Bona was a little stumped.
Bona returned to the laboratory.
He took out the book with the six-pointed star on its cover and set it on the table.
He quickly flipped to page 999.
The body of a Thunder Warrior who had died in a fit of madness lay on the laboratory platform. Bona had secretly dug him up.
He knelt on the floor, facing the body on the operating table.
"Noble warrior, may your soul rest in peace. I will borrow your precious remains to seek a way to break your curse. I hope you will forgive this momentary act of disrespect."
Bona stood up, then took off his white robe.
If what the book said was right...
Without a change in expression, Bona dissected the Thunder Warrior's brain tissue, then drew on his vast store of knowledge to analyze the brain.
Even a cursory examination revealed an abnormally enlarged motor center, while the hippocampus had shriveled almost to the point of collapse.
If Bona understood correctly, the Thunder Warriors' fragile nerves controlling their powerful bodies was itself a source of excruciating pain. Many of those who went mad had probably endured the most horrific torture imaginable before their deaths.
Every cell in their bodies was releasing powerful electrical signals, trying to kill their brains.
Some of their neural structures were not even as good as those of ordinary humans.
Bona wanted to strengthen the Thunder Warriors' nervous systems, but the entire genetic chain was already a complete mess.
Bona spent the entire afternoon searching for a solution, without any success.
Discarded drafts littered the laboratory, and the trash can overflowed with crumpled paper.
Eventually, Bona tried a different approach.
Since the Thunder Warriors' own genes had no room left for improvement, why not replace them with a segment of ordinary genes?
Without hesitation, Bona made a small cut in his finger with a knife, then placed it on the instrument for analysis.
To his astonishment, his own genetic sequences proved virtually perfect, like a blank sheet of paper without any trace of modification.
If there was any imperfection... perhaps his psyker power characteristics were too strong. Bona knew very little about psyker power and had no idea what it actually was.
The pages of the book with the six-pointed star beside him seemed to turn gently, as though someone had touched them.
Bona emerged from his thoughts and gave it a casual glance.
To his surprise, the open pages contained information about psyker power.
Excited, he picked up the book and read it carefully.
But he failed to notice his bleeding finger pressing against the page. One corner turned red, then quickly faded, as though nothing had happened.
"Psyker power is a manifestation of the Warp. Every person's emotions and desires are part of the Warp..."
"And within the Warp dwell four great gods."
"The god of justice and courage (a meathead)."
"The god of beauty and joy (a lunatic)."
"God of Life and Compassion (a rotten old man)."
"The supreme herald of hope, the exalted eagle, the guide of fate, the mighty god of wisdom in whom the future and fantasy coexist???? (the most powerful one)."
Why did the last one sound so different?????
And what the hell were those annotations supposed to be?????
Four colors of mist rose simultaneously from the shadows behind Bona. Blood red, seductive pink, emerald green, and bright blue surged out together.
Then they started fighting.
They tangled with one another, trading blows without giving an inch.
Suddenly, the eyes of the Aquila embroidered on the white robe lying on the table shot out a ray of golden light, dispersing them.
Bona looked behind him curiously, but saw nothing.
He scratched his head. What just happened???
Forget it. Too much trouble to think about.
It seemed his psyker power issue came from himself and should have nothing to do with his genes. That meant Bona could get to work making sweeping changes without worry.
Though Bona was very curious about why his genes were so clean, without a single trace of modification.
But those questions could wait until later.
Bona closed the book, then enthusiastically began his genetic modifications.
It was like building with blocks. He kept the Thunder Warriors' genes that could adapt and removed those that could not, patiently fixing one bug after another.
Unlike the calm real world, the Warp was particularly lively that day.
Four demonic armies crashed together like surging tides, fighting so fiercely that the heavens and earth seemed to darken.
Khorne roared as he swung his battle-axe at Nurgle. Thick, poisonous fluid splashed onto Slaanesh with a sizzling hiss.
Slaanesh let out a sultry moan, reached back to seize Tzeentch's wing, and bit down. Enduring the pain, Tzeentch hurled a freshly prepared spell straight at Khorne's head.
"Enough! Stop fighting, you idiots!" Tzeentch roared, losing all composure.
The three gods backed away, eyeing one another like predators.
Tzeentch supported the wing Slaanesh had bitten hard enough to break.
That fucking hurt.
"If we keep fighting, we won't accomplish anything. Do you understand?! The Cursed One looks at the four of us like we're idiots."
An axe came flying in response. Fortunately, Tzeentch dodged quickly enough.
"You bird-brained bastard, what the hell did you write in that book? Explain it to me!" The hot-tempered Khorne pointed straight at Tzeentch's face and cursed.
Slaanesh was seductively licking those lips, staring at the bird with a delirious smile, seemingly eager to take another bite out of Tzeentch.
Nurgle was gently soothing his family, telling them to hold on a little longer.
"I did the most work! Do you know how hard it was to get that book over there, you meathead?"
Just as Khorne was about to grab another axe and resume fighting, Tzeentch produced a sheet of parchment and slapped it onto the table.
"All right, we need a plan. A plan, understand?"
"Otherwise, if we keep wasting our strength fighting each other, we'll never accomplish anything!"
"Let me see what kind of bird-brained crap this is."
Khorne snatched it up and took a look.
His brow furrowed.
He hated to admit it, but the plan really did look quite good.
He read it over carefully once more, then looked at the smug bird across from him and still could not resist kicking out.
"You meathead! Is your brain made entirely of muscle?" Tzeentch demanded angrily.
"I can't stand seeing you so smug."
Khorne handed the plan to Nurgle beside him.
Nurgle shooed the mischievous little darlings off his arm and read through the plan.
"Once everything is settled, let him visit all four of us and choose for himself. How does that sound?"
Khorne nodded.
Such fairness was rare.
Nurgle also thought it was a good idea and handed the plan to the... empty air beside him?
Where had the Slaaneshi gone?
Tzeentch turned around and found himself facing a gaping maw.
Chomp.
Slaanesh sank those teeth into the other wing.
"Aaaaargh! You damned psychotic lunatic bitch!"
Before you continue