It was an utterly ordinary Friday night. Liu Zhipeng, a textbook "corporate drone," had just finished a hard day's work and was on his way home.
That evening, he had gotten together with a few fellow enthusiasts, and naturally, their conversation revolved around the heroes and villains who roamed the galaxy forty thousand years in the future. They talked at length about everything from the Golden Throne on Holy Terra to the Chaos Space Marines of the Eye of Terror, from the Orks' "WAAAGH!" to the endless hunger of the Tyranids. Alcohol and enthusiasm heated up the atmosphere. Everyone seemed to become part of that dark universe, debating its fate and holding forth with passion.
It was late at night when the gathering broke up. Liu Zhipeng politely declined a friend's offer to drop him home on the way. He wanted to walk alone, feel the night breeze, and let his head, filled with alcohol and fantasy, cool down a little. He liked that feeling of slowly pulling away from a vast, brutal, fascinating world and returning to his own ordinary, real life. That contrast made his love for the fantasy purer, and made him cherish the peace before him all the more.
The alley was quiet. The streetlights stretched his shadow long, then shortened it as he passed. Just as he rounded a corner, an unexpected voice rang out behind him. It was hoarse and ancient, carrying an indescribable authority, as though it had come from the end of time.
"What do you think I look like?"
Liu Zhipeng instantly sobered up. The question made every hair on his body stand on end. It sounded like an old folk legend, an eerie tale of some mountain spirit or wild creature asking a passerby to affirm its form. His reason told him it might be a drunk spouting nonsense, or a prank.
Stiffly, frame by frame, he turned around.
Then he saw.
It was no fox spirit, nor was it a monster. It was a... "person"? A being so tall that he had to look up at him, shrouded in golden radiance beyond description. That light was not warm. It was majestic and indifferent, a splendor that burned like a star and pressed down on him until he could barely breathe. He could not make out the being's features. Through the dazzling light, he could just barely discern an enormous, indistinct human silhouette.
"Holy shit... what... what a huge yellow rat!"
Of course he knew who the being before him was. As a fan who knew 40K lore inside out, he had seen this image countless times in novels, sourcebooks, and online memes-the sacred sovereign of the Imperium of Man, the living corpse on the Golden Throne, the being countless believers reverently called the "Emperor."
Yet, as someone steeped in internet culture who lived for a laugh, the first thing that surfaced in his mind was that most widespread, slightly irreverent nickname.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps he was simply too overwhelmed. Somehow, he had blurted out his thoughts.
The Emperor did not seem angered by the name. The golden radiance flickered slightly, and Liu Zhipeng felt an indescribable "gaze," as though his soul, his past, and everything about him had been seen through in an instant.
Then his vision went black, and he lost consciousness completely.
When awareness returned, Liu Zhipeng found himself "sitting" on a soft, damp, springy patch of "ground."
He could not feel his hands or feet, or even a clearly defined "body." He was like a ball filled with water. With every "breath," his entire "body" gave a gentle, happy little quiver. Sunlight... no, it was not sunlight, but a soft light tinged with a pale green glow, spilling down from the "sky" and warming him all over.
A complicated smell filled the air, like rotting fruit, fermenting soil, grass after rain, and a faint trace of sweet honey all mixed together. At first, it was a little pungent, but soon a strange sense of comfort arose from it, leaving him more relaxed and peaceful than he had ever felt.
"Where am I?"
He tried to "stand," but only wobbled in place like a roly-poly toy. He lowered his head to look at his body, then froze completely.
He had no legs, only a round, chubby green body covered in wrinkles and cute little pustules. A single eye, enormous and innocent, occupied most of his "face." Beneath it was a mouth that stretched from ear to ear, its corners naturally turned upward, as though he were always smiling. On top of his head grew a token little curved horn.
"I'm... a Nurgling?"
Liu Zhipeng's brain crashed for a full three minutes.
As a Warhammer fan, he naturally recognized this form. Nurglings, the offspring of "Grandfather" Nurgle, one of the Chaos Gods, were symbols of rot, disease, and new life. They were the most insignificant yet happiest daemons in the Warp. Their existence consisted of frolicking in the Garden of Nurgle and spreading Grandfather's "gifts."
"No way... I've become a... bean?" He wobbled his jellylike body, filled with a sense of absurdity. No hands, no feet, just a round body and a face that was always smiling.
Just then, an icy voice rang out in his mind.
[Eternal Reincarnation System activated] [Current world: Warhammer 40K] [Current status: First life, Nurgling] [System instructions: 1. Reincarnation upon death: When the current host dies, the system will activate automatically. At the moment of death, your soul will receive absolute protection against any form of annihilation or consumption.] [2. Random rebirth: After each death, you will be reborn at random as a new life-form in the current world. Your identity, location, and time of rebirth will all be random. The host cannot intervene.] [3. Reincarnation rewards: At the end of each life, the system will distill your actions, experiences, and final achievements in that life into a permanent passive ability or talent. Your soul will inherit this reward permanently, and it can be used in all subsequent reincarnations.] [Have... a pleasant journey.]
The system's voice vanished, leaving Liu Zhipeng staring blankly on his own.
That was a lot to take in.
He had died, then been transported into Warhammer 40K, a world that was one enormous "dark joke." Worse still, he had become a Warp Daemon at the very bottom of the heap-a Nurgling.
The only good news seemed to be this "Eternal Reincarnation" system. Death would not end everything. Instead, it was something like... saving and loading? No, it was more like playing a roguelike. At the end of each run, he could carry away a few "relics" or "blessings" to strengthen his start in the next one.
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