Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 315 People can only rely on themselves
These warriors clad in black and gold armor are the Shadow Guardians—Shadow Prisoners.

As the empire's dark guards, they are stationed in the palace's underground prison, specifically responsible for imprisoning and monitoring terrifying objects and forbidden secrets from the "Old Night."

The prisons hold mostly those who have committed heinous crimes, yet are difficult to completely destroy. The people or things within represent the dark past of the empire and are also humanity's deepest nightmare.

Horrifying artifacts from the old night, strange and wondrous things, warlords from a time of strife, and demons whose sins are beyond description.

The Shadow Prison's responsibility is to guard these horrific creatures until the end of time, until the day the empire collapses.

They are the most resilient warriors; every new Shadow Prisoner must pass the mental test of the four great demons within the prison.

Unyielding to the tyranny of the Blood God, resisting the temptations of the Dark Prince, enduring the poisonous gas of the Necromancer, and ignoring the enlightenment given by the Lord of Change.

Those who pass the test will have their gleaming gold armor re-stained black and gold, marking their official entry into the Shadowguard.

It also signifies that they have abandoned superficial honors and will remain forever in the darkness, protecting the empire's deep roots in the shadows from unknown, hidden corners.

The visitor was the warden, who, following the summons of the Lord of Mankind, came with ten Shadow Guards to imprison the future enemy of humanity.

A golden light shot from the Emperor's eyes, piercing the warden's armor and revealing to his servants the danger posed by the aliens.

Gene thieves are the extended tentacles of a unified will, infiltrating the societies of other species and spreading genetic infections.

Its highly flexible mouthparts can directly pierce into the human mouth, implant its own genetic material, and stimulate the infected person's reproductive desire.

Driven by reproductive desire, infected individuals become insatiable and mate with the opposite sex to produce deformed offspring. Under psychic hypnosis, parents will unconditionally spoil their deformed children.

Then the infection spread rapidly through generations of hybridization, eventually upending the entire world.

The warden bowed to the Emperor and the Primarch, signaled his men to capture the gene stealer, and then took the Xenomorph away without a word.

Upon entering the dark prison, the alien will be interrogated by a psionic master and dissected by a biological expert.

All data will be organized and archived, and retrieved at the appropriate time to address future crises.

The Shadow Guardian left, and the Emperor nodded, then asked Doom, "What are you carrying?"

"The fruits of my journey." Doom took the Grim Reaper's Scythe from his back, swung it twice in his hand, and said in a deep voice without hesitation, "I need your help."

"Oh?"

The emperor raised his eyebrows, a hint of interest appearing on his brown face.

He sensed a powerful force emanating from the scythe; its crescent-shaped, lead-colored blade traversed higher dimensions, capable of stripping away the souls of living beings.

“Star God—Nightbringer Azagorod.” Doom mentioned a name, his hand brushing across the scythe, explaining the weapon’s origin: “The ‘Grim Reaper’ we know, this is the weapon He left behind in the Warp.”

The scythe cleaved through the void, its sharp, cold light scattering in all directions. Macado, standing to the side, frowned slightly and took a few steps back with a tense expression.

He felt uneasy, his soul wavering unsteadily within his body, and he sensed true death through the scythe.

Nightbringer Azagorod.

When the emperor thought of Him, an image of a Grim Reaper wearing a black hood and wielding a soul-stripping scythe would involuntarily appear in his mind.

He instills the fear of death in the souls of all living beings, and is the embodiment of death.

"What do you intend to do with it?" The Emperor stepped forward, grasped the Scythe of Death, and sensed the deathly intent within it. "How can I help you?"

He felt a chill, and the "immortality" within his body was trying to escape. This weapon of death could truly kill the immortals!
"I want to reforge the Star God weapon and forge a set of armor." Doom looked at the Emperor's slightly tired face, first stating his needs, and then outlining his specific plan: "Reforging the Star God weapon is impossible by ordinary means."

He opened his left hand, and a Star God Flame ignited in his palm. "Only a Star God can fight against a Star God, so..."

"So you need the Void Dragon's help." The Emperor released his scythe, dispelling the bone-chilling cold, and guessed Doom's plan.

“Yes!” Doom nodded, not denying his own thoughts.

"Will the elders participate?" The emperor neither agreed nor refused, but instead lowered his eyes to look at the ancient saint and asked a completely unrelated question.

"I am the Master Hammerer." Hinterlands' eyes gleamed as if he had seen a divine artifact, and he rubbed his hands together impatiently.

Upon receiving an affirmative reply, the emperor's face darkened, and his brows furrowed, revealing a hint of inner conflict.

He had no reason to refuse Doom's request, but since it involved the Old Saints, he had to consider many things.

The Void Dragon is no benevolent being. Imprisoned on Mars for 30,000 years, it is filled with resentment and rage, and is unlikely to easily help humanity.

Most importantly, the Ancient Saints and the Star Gods are eternal enemies, and just imagining their meeting is enough to make one feel the tension is palpable.

If something were to happen to the ancient sage, there would be no going back.

The Internet is of paramount importance. The Emperor cherishes every factor that is beneficial to the Internet plan, let alone a living ancient sage.

“The elder doesn’t understand the ways of the net.” Perhaps seeing the reason for the Emperor’s dilemma, Doom smiled brightly, his voice slightly regretful but unable to suppress his laughter.

"The Starbreaker, the Fiery Hammer, Sintra." He bent down, picked up the Ancient One, and placed it on his shoulder, revealing the cruel truth: "It is not a master craftsman, specializing in weapon forging and design."

Upon hearing this explanation, the emperor lost his composure, his body trembled slightly, and disbelief filled his eyes.

Even Prime Minister Makado turned his attention to the ancient saint, seeking an answer.

“That’s right.” Sintra nodded, sitting cross-legged in the void with his arms crossed: “Our technology is too profound; even with our long lifespans, we can hardly comprehend it all.”

"In order to gain a deeper understanding of the mysteries of the universe, our society has a highly specialized division of labor. Each member of the tribe chooses only one skill and then devotes his or her life to studying and exploring it."

"The Internet is a cosmic treasure, built by master builders. Although I have provided them with many tools, I still find it difficult to fathom its secrets."

Upon receiving the Old One's reply, a pang of sadness welled up in the Emperor's eyes. Fate favored Doom, but neglected the human empire.

It played a joke, stirring up hope with ancient saints, and then pouring cold water on it.

A sigh came, and Macado and his old friend exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with helpless bitterness.

Humanity must rely on itself!
After a brief moment of disappointment, the emperor shook his head and breathed a sigh of relief. The disappointment did not bring him much of a blow or frustration.

If he allows this slight disappointment to affect his inner beliefs, then he is not the ruler of mankind!
With his gaze leaving the ancient saint, the emperor regained his composure and immediately made a decision: "Depart in two hours for Mars."

“You, me, it.” He lowered his finger and pointed to Doom, himself, and the Ancient One. “This journey is dangerous, and the others are of no use.”

The Emperor then turned to Macado, his voice filled with a sense of hope: "Old friend, in my absence, a heavy burden has fallen on your shoulders once again."

"It's my duty." Makado didn't refuse, and smiled as he took on all the responsibility.

“Elder,” Doom bowed to Makado, expressing his apology and respect, “I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

"But I have one more request." The Emperor spoke again, this time addressing the Ancient Sage: "I hope that you, Elder, will forge some tools that were once used in the Net Dao for me."

As the ruler of mankind, the Emperor always thought of humanity's well-being. He keenly observed that the ancient sages had created tools for the Internet.

“Sure.” Sintra patted his chest and readily agreed. “This deal is a great deal.”

As a master blacksmith, crafting tools is a piece of cake, and using them as a condition for forging divine artifacts is a very worthwhile deal.

Upon hearing this, a look of satisfaction finally appeared on the emperor's face, and he nodded slightly.

With the tools the ancient sages used to build the web, the security of the web project was greatly enhanced.

"Harlan Oglieve!"

Doom called to the champion swordsman, who stepped forward with his chest out, awaiting his master's command.

“Obelisk,” he called to his offspring again, outlining the plan: “Take the Doomsday Warrior and the newborn brother, and follow the Champion Swordsman to Nur.”

"I will obey your command!"

One in black and one in white, the two imposing figures responded with resounding force, accepting the mission entrusted to them.

Doom smiled. In his telepathic connection, he knew there were exactly a thousand offspring, and the legion was beginning to take shape.

They will all go to Nur to receive formal training and wait to return after I finish my chores.

With the legion reaching a preliminary size, it needs more formalized management. As the number of members increases, the current scattered army model is no longer suitable, and legion reform is imminent.

The emperor also gave some important instructions. He put on the True One Armor, with his red sword hanging at his waist, fully armed and ready to go.

(End of this chapter)