Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 307 Reshaping Concepts
Speaking of the enslaved, fear appeared on Sintra's broad red face, her scales slightly unfurled, and her terror was palpable.

Doom also showed regret, and whenever the war was mentioned, the regrettable outcome made him sigh with regret.

That was not only the failure of the ancient saints, but also represented an imbalance, the complete loss of control over the warp, and the terrifying beginning of reality overwhelmed.

The Star God Alliance forced the Ancient Ones into a series of defeats, and the Burner melted through the web, allowing the undead in space to slaughter at will.

In the warp, many monsters and demons were born, and the enslavers were among them.

They are extremely sensitive to psychic energy, able to sense fluctuations in the soul, lock onto their victims from the spiritual world, gradually drain their psychic energy, and enslave their mind and will.

Ancient saints with powerful psychic abilities are naturally their primary targets and the most perfect spiritual nourishment.

As if things weren't going to go wrong, the enslavers and warp monsters added fuel to the fire of the Old Ones' wars.

In the later stages of the War of Heaven, the Ancient Saints were besieged by various forces, and even some gods secretly intervened, fueling their destruction.

"How many years have passed since that war?" Sintra walked to the door of the hut, leaned against the door frame and sat down, her large eyes filled with grief.

Doom sat down cross-legged and said in a deep voice, "Sixty million years have passed since the War of Heaven..."

Sintra paused, staring at the scythe for a long time, and murmured, "At the end of the War of Heaven, I sensed that defeat was inevitable, so I left the Web Path and hid in the Warp."

“I heard my people’s dying cries, but I could do nothing and just lingered on.”

“In a daze,” it pointed to the scythe, “the Star God weapon fell beside me.”

"It carries powerful physical concepts, dispels the forces of the subspace, and opens up a stable region."

“It’s laughable,” Sintra scoffed. “I’ve been hiding safely until today thanks to my enemy’s weapons, but those days of safety are coming to an end. It will soon depart and go to its destiny.”

The ancient saint was in low spirits, recalling his past experiences: "Sixty million passed in the blink of an eye. The last time I learned about the outside world, the Eldar Empire still had a chance for salvation, and then in the blink of an eye, Slaanesh awakened."

Sintra, her large eyes sparkling with excitement, asked anxiously, "Is Prima alright?"

Upon learning that 60 million years had passed and that their kind still existed in the real universe, the ancient sage could not suppress his joy.

“The elder is well,” Doom replied truthfully when asked impatiently, “Hiding in the infinite dimensions constructed by the dimensional crystals, he is difficult for the enemies of the ancient saints to find.”

“It has found a good place,” Sintra chuckled. “It also suits its path and character, standing behind the scenes, always watching and guiding intelligent beings.”

"So you are the Prima Enlightened race? Humans?" It scrutinized Doom, its gaze sweeping behind him before settling on the Doom Slayer.

After looking at it many times, Sintra finally shook her head and said:
“Although I don’t understand how our people enlighten life, I feel that you and those people have gone against the original intention of our people and are not like a normal race.”

Sintra observed these "humans," and as an ancient sage, he could naturally see that these self-proclaimed "humans" were merely identifying themselves as human.

With the ability to create technological armor and weapons, and to enter the warp, humanity can naturally colonize the universe.

To colonize the universe, a large population base is necessary; otherwise, it would be difficult to drive technological development.

If every human being were like these people, the Warp Gods and their servants would have long since vanished.

“We are special,” Doom began to explain, there was no need to hide it: “The Lord of Mankind created us to conquer the galaxy for him and to protect the humans he loves.”

Upon hearing this explanation, Sintra nodded her massive head slightly: "That's more like it. I can see your strength; you are capable of shouldering the responsibility of protecting your race."

It pointed at Doom and said in a deep voice, "Especially you, Doom Norwick."

"Your destiny is elusive, like a black hole, pulling and disrupting the trajectories of other people's destinies."

Doom nodded silently, listening to the elder's story with a polite smile on his face, without refuting the ancient saint.

Everything it said was true; its own fate was uncertain, and great psionic beings such as Prima, the Emperor, and Makado had all said the same thing.

“I’m grateful,” he said with a relaxed smile. “Fate has kicked me out of the script, and everything I’ve done no longer leads to that inevitable outcome.”

“Kicked out of the script?” Sintra’s voice suddenly rose, her big eyes widening as she almost screamed, “You mean it abandoned you?” The old saint shook his head, taking advantage of the gradually warming atmosphere, and said earnestly, “Doom Norwick, fate loves you so much, you should be grateful to it, not take it for granted.”

"Freedom and choice are proof that fate favors you. Even the gods are still bound by fate and head towards the end of their own destinies."

"The destruction of the ancient sages was also predetermined, an unstoppable demise. Resisting fate will only lead to the inevitable end."

"Just as I came here safely and escaped the pursuit of my enemies, it was also a blessing from fate."

As she spoke, Sintra's tone was full of emotion, lamenting the capriciousness of fate while also possessing a profound understanding of all things.

It was as if it had opened a floodgate of words, or perhaps it had been lonely for too long, and once it opened its mouth, it had endless things to say, releasing the sorrow that had been suppressed for millions of years.

Doom listened quietly. He knew all too well that the ancient races possessed extraordinary knowledge, and even their ordinary conversations revealed incredibly profound information.

Sintra recounted ancient secrets, while Doom explained the present to the elder. The two sat cross-legged and talked for a very long time.

“I never would have guessed,” Sintra exclaimed, looking at the young man with compassionate eyes. “You had a difficult childhood.”

"However, this was inevitable. The dark gods, despite their scheming, pushed you to the opposite side of them, creating their own enemy."

It was filled with emotion, a hint of relief amidst its sorrow: "Now I finally understand why you were able to come here."

Doom frowned slightly. From his perspective, it was by chance that he came to the ancient saint's abode under the guidance of the Star God's hatred.

Could there be some other reason?
“Child,” Sintra murmured, straightening his back, and asked Doom, “In the past, I lived in seclusion here, also wanting to do something great.”

He pulled a pipe from his lower back, lit it with a flame at his fingertips, and began to puff out smoke.

When Doom saw the pipe, he was stunned for a moment, then shook his head helplessly, not understanding why the Ancient Saints liked to smoke. This kind of enjoyment unknown to outsiders seemed to be popular among the Ancient Saint race.

Perhaps sensing Doom's confusion, Sintra took a leisurely puff and explained with a dreamy expression, "Cleansing tobacco is a natural byproduct of our people's lives and helps us think."

It half-closed its eyes, exhaled colorful smoke, then inhaled it through its nostrils, its whole body jolted, and it groaned in pleasure.

"Um~~~~"

“I am not a member of the Life Faction and do not cultivate the Spirit Tobacco. I have treasured this one for a long time, originally saving it for my own funeral.”

At this point, Sintra suddenly opened her eyes, her tone abruptly changing: "Prima, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying it! Taking a puff every now and then?"

Recalling how the elder had shown no appreciation when they first met, Doom nodded solemnly and sadly.

“@%#￥#￥!” Sintra’s throat bulged as he uttered a non-human utterance, his face filled with resentment.

Doom couldn't understand, but judging from the elder's unfriendly expression, it was probably something unpleasant.

“Let’s not dwell on these painful things.” Sintra put the pipe in his mouth, took the square forging hammer hanging from his waist, and said solemnly, “I am the Old Saint—Sintra, the Starbreaker, the Fiery Hammer, the Old Saint Master Forging.”

"I have forged countless divine weapons and designed fortresses to fight against the Star Gods, and I also want to kill the gods."

The Starbreaker raised his forging hammer, pointing it at the Star God's weapon, and spoke in a deep voice about his plan: "The Reaper's Scythe, the weapon of the Nightbringers, possesses a powerful quality: it can directly attack the soul."

"Among the many Star Gods, the Nightbringers are among the few who are capable of confronting the Chaos Gods."

"I have been living in seclusion here, trying to forge a weapon to kill a god, but I have never been able to recreate the concept of a star god weapon."

“That’s almost impossible.” After careful consideration, Doom said to the elder with certainty, “Reshaping the Star God weapon is equivalent to reshaping the laws of physics, which is beyond human capability.”

“Yes,” Sintra sighed regretfully, his tone full of helplessness, “With the ancient saints fallen, how can I, on my own, reshape the laws of physics?”

Its eyes darted around, and the pipe at the corner of its mouth curled up as it spoke, a playful look on its face: "But you've come. Guided by fate, you've arrived here."

(End of this chapter)