"Reality has proven again and again that most people are wrong, and my truth is based on their mistakes."

"The flesh and blood of Lady Hungry is walking on the land of the galaxy, but those blind fools are turning a blind eye to it. My colleagues, they cannot see how much love the eternal enemy has poured into this human being. That is enough to make

All the demonic armies of joy were eclipsed."

"My colleagues, my companions, and my subordinates think that my words are just nonsense and gossip, but they are totally wrong: the beloved of the Lord of Joy is walking on the skyline of the Milky Way,

If we continue to turn a deaf ear to this, one day, all the Arks will be turned into the tombs of our race in the second scream, and all the Asuryan people will be thrown into eternal distortion and become

The vessel through which He, who is hungry and thirsty, soothes His beloved.”

"This future is extremely dark, but it is not without hope: by crossing countless of the most dangerous rapids in the long river of the world, I have seen the only remaining glimmer of hope: and my mission is to hold it close

Hold it in your hand."

"I will take this as my mission, I will take this as my watch, and I will forge ahead from now on, at all costs, even if I issue the most twisted decisions and orders, even if I commit the most horrific atrocities and betrayals, I will

Will never stop.”

"For this is my destiny: I have seen it, I have seen my glorious and redemptive death, and I will be the final act, the salvation of my race."

"The first step is to make them aware of the seriousness of the problem."

"All sons of Asuryan must be clearly aware that this silver-haired human, this monster called the Primarch, is clothed with the deepest grace from the heart of the Thirsty Lady, and we are absolutely unable to confront her head-on.

natural enemy."

"She is not the divine choice of the thirsty lady, nor is she his military leader, nor is she the worthless demons, demon princes, or any lofty and vain titles under his command."

"She's way above that."

"She is above all living beings in the Palace of Joy, and her smile is enough to arbitrate the life and death of any secret keeper. I saw it, I saw that twisted and blasphemous scene: in the deepest madness of the Silver Palace

, on the high position on the right hand side of the God of Hunger and Thirst, waiting for a noble blood girl, waiting for an indifferent tea guest, waiting for a pair of dark pupils that can share the joy with the Prince of Darkness.

, waiting for the daughter, companion, and love of the horny lady.”

"Waiting for her, waiting for: Morgan."

"Remember this name, she will influence the fate of the galaxy, she will arbitrate our empire."

——Eldalad, the supreme prophet of the craft world Uthsi, engraved on his staff

——————

When Adarad, the high-ranking supreme prophet of the Craftworld, witnessed the last natural disaster of Commorragh crashing to the ground, he allowed his body to be dragged into the sub-dimensional space that had been prepared in advance.

The failure did not make him disappointed. He had predicted this a long time ago. Just like the sub-dimensional space where he was hiding at this time, everything was predicted and prepared in advance. Everything was just the first ray of fire that ignited thousands of stars.

He is not anxious, he is not lost, and he is not ashamed. Although his fellow humans are suffering from human slaughter in the corners he can see, Eldarad knows that this is their fate.

Each of them will have such a day sooner or later, it just comes sooner or later.

Since these fellow Comorans have been slaughtering, plundering and torturing countless lower races in the galaxy for thousands of years, and have not taken the right path at all and stopped this behavior of drinking poison to quench their thirst, then their fate will not be allowed to change.

Eldarad felt happy, but it did not cause him any more psychological baggage: even though he was the direct promoter of the scene before him.

…

Perhaps it was this mutual indifference and ruthlessness, and perhaps it was the absolute egotism brought about by this long decadence, that led to the eventual disintegration of their former empire.

At the moment when he entered the sub-dimension, the Supreme Prophet couldn't help but think of this, using it to smile with joy in suffering.

But soon, even this wry smile was broken by an unexpected visitor.

"Lies, betrayal, self-deception."

"After so many years, you are still stubborn and have not made any progress."

The hissing sound of cold metal friction pierced the calmness in Eldarad's ears, and the Supreme Prophet realized that in his private space, there seemed to be a guest without any reservation.

He turned his head and saw only a cold metal body, which was emitting a green light. Although the hard face made it impossible for the visitor to form any expression, a kind of fierce irony still appeared on the page.

The Supreme Prophet recognized him: no matter which ancient civilized race he was in, the name of the person in front of him was familiar to everyone: it was just a bad name.

"How did you enter the space that belongs to me, Lord Trazin?"

"You know, young man, I'm Trazin. What I'm best at is being a guest anywhere, and your little defensive skills can't be put on the table."

A smile flashed across Eldarad's lips. He had never expected this answer, and he had never been more prepared for the Necron Overlord walking slowly in front of him: the battle between them would not be at this time.

The rusty spots on Trazin's body and his lack of weapons also indicate that this is just an unlucky guy he snatched casually.

The prophet took off his helmet, and in the corner of his eye, he saw the bloody sight of the last Ugur beast, which was grabbed tightly by the upper and lower jaws by the extraordinarily tall Astartes warrior, and then tore the entire head in half.

The scene was accompanied by the cheers of victory of the human army.

Everything that happened inside and outside the Yemenga Monument was clearly projected in the sub-dimensional space. Neither of the two notorious people of their respective races spoke immediately. They kept a safe distance and spoke in silence.

Witnessing the end of this ridiculous drama.

They saw the Dark Eldar's army collapsing under the constant blows. Some of the weak were panicking and eager to escape back to the passage they came from. However, they encountered an absolutely insurmountable wall of the Dawnbreaker, which was only ten minutes ago.

The evenly matched battle turned into a bloody massacre with the accumulation of countless factors.

And those people of Comoros who were crazy enough, brave enough and resourceful enough quickly chose another path. They launched a desperate and terrifying charge towards the final front of the Dawnbreakers, because behind that front, not only were they temporarily trapped,

The Primarch's room also had a hidden door to the Webway.

They were almost successful: if not at the last moment, the lady with silver hair and blue eyes stepped into the children's fighting field like a mad giant, carrying a terrible anger that could make the world tremble.

Although he has witnessed similar scenes countless times in the long journey of fate, when the bloody silhouette came into view for the first time, Adarad could still feel the trembling all over his body: this trembling

It is not fear and consternation, but a kind of despair that comes from the blood, just like a lop-eared hare looking directly at the hungry tiger that is so close. At the first moment he saw the Primarch, Eldarad

I felt that I had completely lost all hope of continuing to live and had chosen death in vain.

Just like those fellow Commorans in another dimension in front of him: at the first sight of the Primarch, all the Dark Eldar lost the courage to fight, and even lost the fear of fleeing, regardless of

Is it the witch spirits and ruling succubi who have performed the bloody art for thousands of years, or is it Queen Lilith herself who reigns in the sect of strife? All the atrocities and desires melt away like ice and snow at this moment, and the Primarch's incompetence is gone.

When the blue eyes of emotion swept across all of their souls, they had already given up their determination to resist.

Lilith was the first to fall. The queen of the Strife Cult could almost be said to be one of the most powerful figures in the Dark Eldar. However, when she fell into eternal stupor, she lost even one-tenth of her strength.

Unable to use it, it was easily squeezed by the Primarch's neck, turning into a dying and beautiful body, losing all pride and strength, and turning into a miserable prisoner at Morgan's feet.

And when the fate of the strongest among them was revealed so clearly, all the succubi and wizards: whether they were legends who had been fighting for thousands of years or the gifted bride of Kane, all were at this moment.

Lost the courage to fight.

The bad roots from Commorragh were finally revealed at this moment: when the Dark Eldar faced the threat of death and faced the incarnation they feared, there was no longer any so-called pride, cruelty and orthodoxy.

The demeanor of the heir was gone, and all the people of Comoros revealed their original pathetic faces at this moment: a group of cowards who are greedy for life and afraid of death, and a group of miserable people who put their lives above everything else in the world.

All the Dark Eldar, they abandoned their courage and belief, art and grace in an instant. They left their opponents aside and rushed towards the entrance gate of the Webway. No one wanted it.

Stay in front of this terrible opponent for even a second.

But at this moment, such a remedy is still too late: hundreds of the most elite Eldar killers finally reached the door a hundred meters away alive, because as early as their bodies first appeared in the Primarch

When they were in the pupils, their souls were already tightly held in Morgan's hands. The so-called running away was just the aftermath of a group of pale bodies without any reason.

The pale lady did not give up because of this. Instead, her anger burned with the wail of the Palm Soul. The smiling Dawnbreakers immediately saw with some concern that their Primarch's face began to emit a wave of anger.

With a chilling smile, her pupils once again ignited with the squandering of psychic energy, but it was not the pure white fire they were accustomed to, but a very light but stubborn purple.

Words that no one could recognize came out of Morgan's mouth word by word. It was a terrible wail that had never been activated since the Randan War. Along with the low and shrill laughter in the weird cold wind, all the dawns

Everyone can feel as if there are countless sharp claws brushing past their ears, piercing through those Comoros assassins who are panicking and choosing their own path in the blink of an eye.

One, two, three...

One hundred, two hundred, three hundred...

When all the Dawnbreakers could catch that weird low laugh in their ears, they also saw the end of their opponents: the invisible wave swept through the bloody purgatory in an instant, entangling the dark spirit.

The necks and ankles of the tribe were pierced through their brains, and their souls were carefully cut off in the agonizing wails, and then carelessly pulled out from the living bodies and wills, leaving scattered lives.

Disappeared in the cold wind.

Even the bravest Astartes warriors were watching all this in awe, and the beasts that were still killing the Sons of Morgan before also put away their claws at this moment. They no longer roared and ran, but

Trembling their abominable bodies, they crouched in the direction of the Primarch, buried their heads with their forelimbs, and whimpered like beaten wild dogs. They did not continue until they were struck down with swords by the Dawnbreakers who had reacted.

to resist.

Hector casually stabbed to death the last ether hound at his feet. This unprecedentedly strong Astartes warrior was simply the natural nemesis of these monsters, but all his attention was focused on another person at this time.

Regarding this matter: right in front of him, not far away, was an extremely agile Dark Eldar. He had even touched the door of the Webway, but was still dragged by his ankles mercilessly, and then, as the Dawnbreaker watched,

In an invisible dimension, they suffered torture that they could never imagine. Only the screams that echoed throughout the wasteland were the only traces of this torture and atrocities.

Listening to the piercing sound that was so shrill that it was like experiencing the end of the world in person, and feeling the awe-inspiring rustling sound in the invisible sea, when Hector's eyes once again turned to the body that looked like rotten meat.

When he fell upon the fallen Dark Eldar, a trace of absolutely wrong pity even flashed through his heart.

And what followed the pity was an overwhelming awe, and the object of that awe was exactly the center of the storm at this moment: his great Primarch, the person he most deserved and should revere.

For some reason, before this, Hector had even forgotten that he needed to revere his Primarch. In his opinion, his mother represented more of a kind of love and light, rather than a statue of a god worthy of worship.

But at this moment, Hector realized his big mistake: How could he not revere the Primarch? How could he forget his surrender to the Mother of Genes under the care of almost grace.

It's really unforgivable.

The captain of the 23rd company took a deep breath of the bloody air, and then, like every battle brother around him, he cast his awe-inspiring gaze towards the invisible interior of the huge stone monument, towards them

The Great Gene Mother: they bear witness to her wrath and are willingly proud of it.

But unlike his brothers, there is the slightest wrinkle on the edge of Hector's thick eyebrows: perhaps due to some kind of illusion, the proud son of Morgan always feels that at this moment, his genes
To be continued...