Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

After the fall of paradise, mortal beings had the possibility of longing for civilization.

The fate of the galaxy was decided long before everything began. In the years that your descendants of the race cannot imagine, a shocking catastrophe that can never be replicated has determined everything for the next tens of millions of years.

Fear, greed, indifference, jealousy, anger, stupidity, weakness, surrender, deception, betrayal, cruelty, massacre, extermination, revenge...

The most cruel monarch ignited the nightmare and war that swept the galaxy. Once this war began, even the greatest wise man could not determine its end and outcome. He could only devour all the crying and wailing mothers and children, and only burn them. All the peace and tranquility of towns and wilderness can somewhat appease the endless greed of the hateful twins of murder and massacre.

And until all the careerists fall or are satisfied, the twins will never really stop.

And the war will never really stop.

First there were the soldiers, those who were beguiled by the so-called honor and mission. They were trembling in the trenches and wilderness, and were torn to pieces by artillery fire that showed no mercy.

Then there are the people, the cities, the whole world, the endless, wailing souls in the flames of war, the sin of a single husband driving all miserable life, until it itself collapses in guilt mixed with stupidity and fear. In the net: The victor on the surface has certainly won, but the price is everything it owns.

Its life, its responsibility, its kingdom, its people, its future.

It sacrificed, paid, and offered all this with its own hands, and all it got was an empty throne, an empty galaxy, the empty pupils of its former followers filled with hatred and confusion, and those The unquenchable rage in the breast of a true nobleman.

It was afraid, it felt guilty, it fled, and became the most despicable butcher, the most despicable villain, and the Milky Way finally came into the hands of a true noble.

Our era has begun.

True wisdom and elegance have since become the masters of the galaxy. We rule in a dream-like splendor. In our minds, there is technology and power that you cannot imagine. The stars are just playthings on the fingertips. Thousands of galaxies rise and fall with our mood, either prosperous or deserted.

But even we have not conquered the greatest power.

time.

too long.

It's just too long.

Do you know, from the moment the war that was enough to bring about the fall of heaven ended, until our false dreams were completely torn into bite-sized pieces, there was such a long period of time, a period of corrosion, and a period of degradation.

To use the timing method of you younger generations: that is 60 million years. For 60 million years, we are the masters of everything we know, witness, and are interested in.

Sixty million years, with your barren experience and past, I'm afraid you can't imagine what a long journey it was.

Sixty million years, sixty thousand thousand years.

The younger races like you, from just learning to walk to first glimpse of the infinite grace of subspace, have made countless so-called progress, countless vendettas between each other, and countless ignorant walks on the edge of the cliff of self-destruction. Returning again, all of this is just thirty thousand years.

After this, it took you twelve thousand years from your first glimpse of the Warp to your use of it.

You used those clumsy subspace technologies to spread your footsteps to every corner of the galaxy, proclaimed your hegemony in those barren waste hills, enjoyed the elation of being the so-called Lord of the Galaxy, and then quickly fell. , bleeding, falling apart...

All of the above, from the time you officially left your infancy to the time some of you hid back in embarrassment: all this happened within ten thousand years.

In the end, you trembled in the raging storm, embracing your fragmented territory that was constantly shrinking and degenerating, allowing tyrants and religions to rise again, making disputes the main theme of your race.

Until now, there has been a sudden reversal. Under the leadership of that... dreamer, you have once again raised the flag of the past, eager to take back everything you have from the sea of ​​​​stars, eager to snatch things that do not belong to you again. .

This is just what happened within a few thousand years.

Did you hear that?

Do you understand?

Using your so-called [Year 1 AD] as a standard: Around 30,000 BC, your ancestors had just learned pottery and other crafts, and gradually separated from the lowest beast class, possessing an incredible wealth. Something that can be called civilized.

Until now, in the 30,000 years AD, you have experienced the peak and fall of your race, and are trying to make the last struggle: Don't be bothered by the glorious achievements in front of you, pathetic descendants, your The leader is burning your destiny, burning your destiny that is supposed to be lingering, letting it release the last spark.

All your history, all your pride, all your splendor, all your pain, all your joys and sorrows, your love and hate... everything.

It's just a fleeting thing that happened in 60,000 years.

It's just the most brand-new [one thousandth] in the long night from the end of the war in heaven to now.

You are not special, you are not unique, you are not like our race, you are the truly chosen people in the galaxy.

I have witnessed a thousand races like yours: from emerging, rising, exploring and dominating; to glory, decadence, decay and destruction.

Do you think you are the overlord of the galaxy?

There is no shortage of overlords in the galaxy, because careerists and delusions can never be killed like grasshoppers in summer.

You are not special. The Milky Way once had thousands of so-called hegemons. Their so-called hegemony was nothing more than a mere play of poverty for tens of thousands of years. The long river of time is enough to wash away everything they had.

But even so, you all have your own special features: the rise of every overlord is the most brutal fight. Countless races and civilizations have invested everything in the war across the stars, just for that illusory one. Kingship for ten thousand years.

And every successful overlord has similar connotations.

They all have talents.

They all have luck.

They all have...the Emperor.

——————

Emperor.

This is your title.

Of course, you can also call him a lord, a leader, a prophet, a priest, a leader, a sage, a genius, a mad king...

All names and appearances are just false appearances, deceitful thoughts that are deliberately obscured and changed, and some means to conceal their monster-like nature.

The birth of the [Emperor] is not an accident. It is an inevitable fate, the result of prayer, the manifestation of ambition, and the harbinger of war and destruction.

You and I both know how chaotic and crazy the void kingdom called subspace is, how dangerous and terrifying it is, but you and I have to admit that the chaos and madness are so daunting. God’s Paradise is another inexhaustible treasure.

The void will not reject anything, and the void will not laugh at any delusions. As long as your prayer is large enough, firm enough, and long enough, the void will respond and satisfy even your craziest ambitions.

The [Emperor] is the product of this fairness and generosity.

When a race is lucky enough, strong enough, and ambitious enough, when they are able to overcome the traps of civilization, pass through the barriers of history, break through the shackles of the mother star, and begin their own conquest and exploration among the endless stars. At this time, if the fire of hegemony in their hearts is strong enough at this time, they will start to fantasize, start to hope, start to pray, and start to desire.

They will long for a great leader, a noble rider who can be trusted, followed and died for, a [greatest one] who has the ability, willingness, and possibility to burn himself for the supremacy of the race. .

It can be a man or a woman, it can be an individual or an organization, it can be a sage or a tyrant.

Everything is OK.

As long as it is as majestic as a lion and can unite and rule a rising galactic empire, internal strife and disputes will not hinder the rise of the race.

As long as it can be as cunning as a jackal, able to fight against countless opponents and deadly enemies, its people will win the cruel wars in every galaxy.

As long as it can be as ruthless as a spider and not be disturbed by anything to make correct and rational judgments, it can become a living beacon of the purest hope and faith.

As long as it can do these things, it will become the [Emperor] that everyone expects, surrenders to, and demands.

Such a existence is of course rare to encounter. Most of the races in the galaxy did not get their own emperor until the moment of their demise. Only those with a large enough number, a strong enough will, and a high enough destiny were destined to Son of God, their subconscious fantasies and prayers will successfully create waves in the subspace, allowing countless beliefs to merge with the acquiescence of the void, and finally produce a different kind of larvae of gods, and finally produce a child who comes to them. of great will.

What finally gave rise to this race...

【Emperor】.

And when the Emperor appears, it will come among its own people. It will step forward when it is needed most and become the absolute leader and soul. It will create the most magnificent plan to conquer the stars. , it will win over the most outstanding figures to prepare for a rainy day. Of course, if it does not have enough followers, it will even rely on its own will to [create] a group.

Primarch, or Custodes, whatever you want to call them.

But no matter what, it will eventually successfully rise, conquer, and create great achievements that will never be defeated in the eyes of mortals. Occasionally, it will also need to defeat emperors from other races to compete for the only spoils.

The galaxy itself.

In the end, the Emperor will win, establish a great foundation, become the sole master of countless worlds and peoples, and let his fame be sung in every corner for thousands of years.

But it will not be satisfied.

never.

Every dominant race in the galaxy has a deep-rooted greed, and this greed will be reflected in the Emperor.

The greatest selfishness is selflessness.

It will long for more, pursue an immortal foundation, explore the endless sea of ​​stars, and hope that its race will become the most special one that breaks the cycle of history, can escape the fate of decline and destruction, and bring hegemony and prosperity to one generation. One generation, passed down to the end of heat death.

Such a flame burns in the heart of every Emperor. They will never be extinguished or even slightly weakened. They will always urge the greatest men to continue to work hard and exhaust the galaxy for the infinite love for their species. everything of.

They firmly believe that their race will become a special one, they firmly believe that their attempts will end in success, and they are sure that their partners are the most reliable friends...

They won't stop.

Even if they knew from the beginning, what terrible and invincible gods existed in the depths of subspace.

Even though they will gradually discover that there are countless forerunners before them, they are equally powerful, equally intelligent, and equally determined, but they only leave the same skeletons.

Even if they saw it with their own eyes: the golden thrones were piled up into a mountain, and were randomly discarded into a priceless hill like the humblest garbage. It was the ridicule of the gods, the declaration of destiny, and the symbol of every race and every emperor. The end in which the emperor cannot escape.

But even so, they won't stop.

Every emperor can't.

And their ending.

From this, it is obvious.

Died by betrayal.

Died in strife.

Died of decadence.

Died by depravity.

Died by decay.

Die alone.

…

Death occurs in all kinds of strange ways.

The meaning of death is eternal.

When the orphan of the last overlord breathed his last breath in endless despair and loneliness, perhaps the emperor who had placed their infinite trust and expectations in them was left wandering in the eternal void. , the only sigh.

Everything has come to an end. Thousands of years of glory and suffering do not need to end with a bang, just a sigh is enough.

Until the end, there will only be an ordinary abandoned throne on the golden barren mountain, as the last echo of a conquest, a hegemony and a challenge.

No one can succeed.

Every challenge is nothing but a struggle.

The rise, glory and decline of thousands of years are just a pastime used by the gods to make fun of them.

When the overlord falls, it will only take a few thousand years for the achievements it is proud of and believes can be passed down to generations to be wiped away without any trace.

Until the galaxy becomes silent again.

Until ambition grows again.

Until the next emperor came to the mountain of golden thrones.

Begin another reincarnation.

Never ends.

——————

Never ends.

When Morgan looked at the [Warmaster] sleeping peacefully in her arms, the Eldar's last words were echoing in her heart.

She was thinking about something, thinking unusually calmly. Those seemingly grand stories and seemingly hopeless future did not disturb her thoughts and composure at all. Ms. Spider just slowly stroked her pet: Obviously, in the past few months, , it was well-raised by those mortal servants, and even gained weight.

Emperor...

She murmured softly.

Morgan did not completely believe the Eldar's words. After all, no word from the alien's mouth was worthy of complete trust, not to mention that there were some minor omissions in its words. Of course, the reasons for these omissions may not be lies. , but its deep-seated tragic arrogance.

Morgan didn't believe everything, nor did she not believe it. She just tried to figure out some thoughts according to the most rational thinking, and then regarded them as a possibility for the future and recorded them in her memory.

But there was one thing, Morgan was sure that the Eldar was wrong.

Her creator, the Emperor of humanity, was not that kind of [Emperor].

She even pointed it out to her face, and the Eldar also admitted it generously: it admitted that even among emperors, there would be special individuals. Perhaps what humans have is that if they look at all [Emperors], The most unique emperor.

Of course, this won't change anything. He will still follow that path, trying to snatch the future of his race from the hands of gods and fate.

It would be the saddest struggle without any hope or suspense.

At the very least, in the knowledge and imagination of this Eldar race, it could not think of any way or any possibility for the founder of Morgan to win.

But that's not what Morgan cares about.

She was just thinking: If most of this Eldar's remarks are credible, and if Ran Dan, a powerful alien civilization that has risen rapidly in a short period of time and can even fight fiercely with humans with profound foundations for so long, is it really true? Because they have an [Emperor].

If the [Emperor] of the Ran Dan Empire really exists, and is standing on the opposite side of her in this war.

Then its soul...

Is it good for her?

And can she spy on some rules and secrets in subspace that cannot be directly observed?

A different kind of desire quietly took root in Morgan's heart. For this evil alien, Ms. Spider didn't have even the slightest pity or fear. She was not even afraid that her hunting would be noticed by others, and she was also not afraid whether her hunting would be noticed by others. will fail.

After all, she has a powerful blood brother and his legion, right?

Thinking of this, Morgan heard footsteps approaching from far away outside her room, and she recognized that the approaching soul came from Coswayne.

The lion's darling knocked on the door, his tone as if he were dealing with a nobler personage than himself.

"My lord wishes to see you, Ms. Morgan."

【What's up? 】

"The 18th Legion, and their Primarch Lord Vulkan, have arrived."

"My lord, now... I need your calmness and... more."

"Conversation."