This is our Warhammer journey

How about we call Chapter 223 "The Death of Hope"?
A cold holographic projection slowly rotated in the center of the bridge, and the surface of the slightly colorful planet was shimmering with an ominous light.

"I brought this planet under my control 146 years ago. Due to my personal research plans, I did not lead a large force, which resulted in severe losses when facing the heretical natives on the surface."

"This native tribe possesses an ancient alien technology known as the Space Necromancer. These metallic aliens have powerful technology and numerous pyramid-shaped tombs buried deep underground throughout the galaxy, which is enough to prove their heyday when they were still active. It is said that these aliens and the Eldar were mortal enemies for a long time."

"The natives on the surface currently live in mobile nest cities that constantly migrate around the planet's active plains. Their political entities are controlled by AI, and their main weapons are Gauss series weapons and metal alien troops. They can suppress psionic energy significantly through a kind of black stone technology similar to that of the heretics like Riza. Their mobile city shields are strong enough to withstand direct hits from nova cannons. They should only be dealt with by boarding."

Out of respect for the two Primarchs who had appeared out of nowhere, and the massive fleet consisting of several warbands, the Great Sage Krieg, the forger, spoke with unusual patience.

This single sentence was a buff to the native human forces on the surface, making several commanders from the 40k era eager to get started.

Alien, AI, all that's missing is chaos to stack up the buffs.

Romulus chuckled softly. He had eyes; he would see for himself.

Moreover, he has a mouth and can speak.

"I initially hoped to recruit them to provide raw materials for my forging city, but during the interaction, my Guardians of the Faith were attacked fiercely. If the forging city had not been built in lava, my stronghold would probably have fallen long ago."

"I will send a servant to transmit the detailed data to you, and I will reward you appropriately after my research is completed."

"can."

Romulus's voice was low and calm, his gaze still fixed on the projection.

The surface troops are advancing cautiously, having chosen a relatively stable plain to assemble.

The terrain data projected on the screen is constantly updated, revealing the planet's unusual environment: rainforests and glaciers alternate, storms and lava rage, the coastline changes every moment, and the speed of geological change far exceeds the laws of nature.

Only the plains between the fissures maintained a brief period of stability, and it was there that human mobile cities gathered.

"Thank you for your help."

After speaking, the sage fell silent.

That should be enough.

At the bottom of the forged city, Krik, dressed in red holy robes, breathed a sigh of relief.

Given the current empire's extreme nature, direct conflict is inevitable when it comes to AI and alien technology. After all, no imperial commander can withstand accusations of sympathizing with aliens or attempting to control AI.

And why sympathize with this? Shouldn't all heresies who don't conform to the mainstream ideology of the empire be eradicated?

Anyway, once they start fighting, it'll never end.

This branch of humanity will be wiped out, their heretical thoughts and remains will be burned to fertilize the soil of the Empire, and their technology will belong to the Mechanicus to fill the void of the Om Messiah.

And I will achieve my goal.

Krieg held the Rubik's Cube, his body covered in countless wet mechanical tentacles that were constantly calculating, trying to break through the opponent's defenses.

He must obtain the technology to easily manipulate a galaxy and then bury this secret forever.

click-

The door behind them opened.

“Solemnas, I don’t think you should be in this position right now.”

The towering, beast-like Sage of Forging turned around, staring somewhat displeasedly at his apprentices who were picking and choosing in his research room.

He carried with him a uniquely shaped, alien staff, which was clearly a relic belonging to a space necromancer.

Not long after Krieg began his research, this apprentice, who was also exploring the planet, arrived and successfully built the alien technology bridge that Krieg had once been unable to overcome using the scepter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my mentor. Your actions are changing a grand historical juncture. Even I am often unconsciously immersed in the magnificent events that may occur in the future.”

Crick couldn't recall his apprentice being so frivolous, and his gaze fell on the scepter.

It wasn't that he didn't want to keep it for himself, but he couldn't do anything about the apprentice now.

The apprentices who have acquired alien technology seem to be in another dimension, and their bodies now moving around outside appear as if they are phantoms.

So Creek had no choice but to endure it.

He was certain that an apprentice who had broken free from control would not share his techniques with him, his mentor, just as he would not share them with anyone else.

He even always wanted to kill those who touched on technological secrets.

"Solemnas." Thinking of this, Creek grew increasingly displeased.

"Oh, my lord, how could you blame me?"

Solemnas performed an exaggerated, unfamiliar gesture of respect, and then spoke:

"Your calculations have slowed down, and I've discovered some unknown information, so I've decided to check with my dear mentor to see if he needs any help."

"."

The mechanical tentacles of the Great Sage trembled again, and then spoke:

What did you receive?

"Hmm—a cry that could be described as tragic is of no importance to you."

Krieg stared intently at the apprentice before him, the iron armor and gears on his body emitting a clattering sound from the high-speed vibration of particles.

Solemnas shrugged indifferently.

"You can leave now."

Crick's voice suddenly became eerily calm, and all the offensive mechanical parts simultaneously ceased operation.

"Please continue to perform your duties."

The massive body turned back, and after some deliberation and confirming that he truly had no way to deal with the apprentice, Creek continued to gaze at the boundless graveyard.

It's bad enough that he had to endure the pressure from the Primarch, but the apprentice dared to ignore him.

He felt he had never suffered such humiliation in his entire life.

'Solemnas' vanished, leaving only a few wisps of fluorescent green afterimages slowly drifting away in the air.

Contrary to the great sage's expectations of participating in the work, the apprentice suddenly appeared in an underground tomb that even the great sage dared not venture into.

The faint light from the alien staff illuminated the ancient hieroglyphs on the wall. Solemnas's slender fingers swept across the display shelves, tossing one metallic relic after another into the suspended dark green cube.

The moment those objects touched the surface of the Rubik's Cube, they vanished without a trace, as if swallowed by water.

Within the space stored inside the Rubik's Cube, on a display stand, a string of information is imprinted in the scripts of six ancient human races.

[To us, 40,000 years from now:]

Is the world at peace? Have famines been eradicated? What is the lifespan of humankind? How far have we traveled among the stars? How many friends have we made?

Yes, humanity is constantly progressing. Perhaps you have found a better living space and created a more advanced society. Perhaps even a shameless bandit can command a fleet that spans galaxies. Then please tell me—

How is Earth doing?

Humans, do you still remember us?

"Alas, yet another great tragedy."

He gazed at the data on the scepter and couldn't help but sigh softly.

His gaze then fell upon a huge, empty exhibition hall in his bookmarks.

“Beautiful~”

He seemed to see the scene he had envisioned, intertwined with the chaos of the Old Nights and the burning Milky Way during the Great Expedition, and uttered a dreamlike sigh.

"I'll call you that, Death of Hope, Part Three."

The sound echoed in the empty tomb, and the darkness deep within seemed to respond to his words, as some ancient mechanical device continued to dutifully emit a low hum.

Solemnas tilted his head, as if listening to the opinions of an invisible audience.

"How about it?"

The questions lingered until they slowly faded away, eventually disappearing without a trace.

His figure gradually faded away, and the last thing to disappear was the stubborn green light at the top of the scepter.

(End of this chapter)