Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Galaxies are dying.

As the balance between the two universes is broken again and again, as billions of deaths and cries occur over and over again in countless worlds and shadows, as the most powerful wills unleash their malice unscrupulously. With longing, the galaxy is dying.

Tucker's star is growing dim. In its billions of years of existence, it has never been so fragile, so weak, so humble.

In its former land, the two most powerful wills in the galaxy are colliding, and a heroic gamble is taking place: the gambling table is a deserted world and a vast territory, and the gamblers are dusty demigods and arbitrary The king, and the bet is hegemony, which concerns the eternal hegemony of thousands of stars and hundreds of millions of people.

The Lion of Caliban and the Barbarian King of the Northern Territory of the Galaxy, two monarchs who have never met before, wantonly throw away every chip and every chess piece in their hands, racking their brains in the hope of winning in this luckless game. Have even the slightest advantage in the chess game: legions, fleets, powerful swords, war engines...

But the most ironic thing is that neither the original body nor the aliens are the protagonists of this war, and their high status will not bring more practical effects.

What really determines this war are the rude non-commissioned officers, the frightened privates, and the commanders and observers who poke their heads in the trenches and steel.

It is everyone who is trying their best to survive and win in the smoke of the front line.

Whether he is a warrior.

Still the original body.

——————

The Wolf King of Fenris bared his teeth, spitting out large amounts of hot steam from the cracks between his teeth, forming a frost-white scene that looked like mist from a distance.

At this time, Leman Russ was like a creature that stepped out of the most ethereal myths on the ice sheet: he walked among the bloody mud and frosty mist, and his Dionysian spear shone like a god-given metal. , and the other hand is holding a battle ax stained with countless pieces of meat and yellowish worms. His thick beard has now become dirty, covered with dried black blood, and even he The same goes for overly lush hair.

But despite all this, Leman Russ remains a demigod, an inviolable personification of war and death, a proud son of the Emperor: if anyone doubts this, he need only look at the Fenrisian Wolf Under the king's feet and behind him, look at the fortresses and legions destroyed by the wolf god, look at the fate of those aliens who overestimated their own capabilities and tried to provoke him, and look at those who surround him and swear loyalty to any order. of wolves, then he would completely understand.

But now, Morgan sees all this.

After giving the first order to her heir, Morgan rarely used her power. She floated around the wolves like an ethereal statue, and would only gently raise her hand at the most critical moments. , using random words and utterances to destroy any existence that can cause the wolves to break their muscles and bones.

She was recuperating, brewing, and preparing for a real war, not a small fight like this. Of course, Morgan also knew very well: Whether it was Leman Russ or his wolves, they had a deep connection in their hearts. There doesn't seem to be much desire to accept her help, which is another reason why she tries to do as little as possible.

She was happy and at ease: anyway, the progress of the war was within her expectations. If the wolves of Leman Russ persistently valued certain persistence as more important than their own lives, then why should she stop it?

Although the descendants of Fenris never really expressed it, by observing the instinctive disgust shown by the Wolf Lords and Wolf Soldiers when they saw the psychic storm flying, and by association with some rumors about the Space Wolves Legion, Morgan easily understood It is certain that the Space Wolves Legion hates these subspace spells, and even hates them.

But then, the Spider Queen discovered something very interesting: Although the Space Wolves instinctively hate psychic powers, the storms and ice and snow roared by the [Wolf Priests] who were undoubtedly respected seemed to be incompatible with There is no essential difference in psychic powers.

If we really want to study it carefully, it is that these wolf priests don't care where the storm and ice and snow in their hands come from. They regard it as some kind of opportunity and enlightenment, using the most primitive, rude and wasteful methods. , but it is also the safest posture to drive these [Rune Magic] gifted by the [Soul of the World] of their home planet Fenris.

This indeed sounds like an act of burning harps and boiling cranes that a group of barbarians can do. It seems to be enough to make a little guy like Ahriman hang his head for a while, but when Morgan's will carefully sifted through the wild wolf After carefully observing the souls and wills of each Wolf Priest in the team, she was somewhat surprised to discover:

Even the most experienced and profound wolf priests, the purity of their souls is much better than those of the Thousand Sons scholars who are proficient in the secret arts. Facts have proved that this barbaric method of utilization may indeed be rough enough to be used by others. Ridiculous, but it does have its own subtleties and mastery.

At the very least, it's safe.

In this galaxy, in many cases, safety is an overwhelming force.

In silent observation, Morgan silently wrote down the methods of using spiritual energy by these wolf priests. She believed that she would be able to use them one day: it is impossible that there would not be a bunch of her descendants who were accustomed to exploring and utilizing the power of subspace. Little one, she needs to devise a reasonable method for them, lest they die too quickly or drag her down.

So far, she had carefully observed the psionic arts of the Space Wolves, Dark Angels, and Thousand Sons Legion, and had a few glimpses of how the Stormseers of Jaghatai communicated with the powers of the Warp. ’s: Now that she thought about it carefully, she found that she was actually instinctively inclined towards the psychic art of White Scar.

Of course, there is no need to finalize everything now. She still has plenty of time to plan her own legion and heirs. She even has ample opportunities to make mistakes and the determination to face countless failures.

after all……

At this moment, a red-haired, one-eyed, foolish and energetic face slowly floated through Morgan's mind.

Even if he fails again, can he still fail?

Thinking of this, Morgan felt instantly confident.

——————

With sufficient encouragement, the Spider Queen's gaze passed over the Space Wolves that were fighting bloody battles, past the continuous stream of Randan reinforcements in the distance, past the burning and collapsing fortresses and fortresses, and came to her own On several of his descendants.

She looked at them, sending an encouraging ray of light into their hearts and wills in their minds, which undoubtedly inspired every son of Morgan, and at the same time, this cold mortal mother was also in fair measure. For each of his sons.

The first person to steal her sight was undoubtedly Hector, the tallest heir who had been ordered to leave her several times. He was not far away from her at this time, and could even be seen within her sight. In this position, he was like an invincible gargoyle, thrown into the fiercest battle line, using his innate strength and speed to strangle all opponents. In just a moment, his armor and sharp blade had already Alien blood full of blasphemy.

And around him, he was always surrounded by the cheers of countless sons of Leman Russ. These Fenris men did not care at all that an outsider had taken the most killings and glory. They surrounded him, singing loudly and killing as much as they wanted. It was as if this extremely tall warrior was the finest Space Wolf.

Morgan even wondered if her ears were hallucinating: She seemed to hear Hector roaring like a wolf amidst the cheers of the wolves?

The Spider Queen smiled. She liked this heir named Hector very much. She liked his talent, strength and loyalty. If possible, she wouldn't mind letting this little guy rise to great heights.

But now, he still needs some training and experience. After all, Morgan never likes to clean up other people's messes. As her most beloved personal belongings, her heirs should help her save energy in various places instead of having the opposite effect.

Her will continued to wander on the battlefield, killing those powerful aliens that could make the wolves bleed all over the ground. She soon found her shadow champion: Ezio was still alone. Lurking in the shadows, he whispered about today's gains, but soon he felt something. The killer in the shadows floated out of his kingdom and neatly solved a slightly lax small fortress. The technique can even be said to be art.

Then, he took off the identity nameplates of these opponents and stacked the blood-stained metals into a small arc-shaped tower. He picked up the artwork, bowed slightly in the direction of Morgan, and then continued Once it disappeared into the shadows.

Morgan raised her lips, and her will then came to the remaining people: Chiron, the ancient warrior of the legion, was commanding Ajax, Salieri and Eris, and joined the front line of the Space Wolves. The veteran who came out of Terra was stunned for a moment when Morgan looked at him, and then continued his battle with a normal expression.

Morgan's eyes quickly passed over Eris: this heir of hers had a very powerful psychic talent, which even made her have to pay attention to it.

Compared with other descendants, this ancient warrior of the Legion has a much colder attitude towards his original body: It is not that Chiron does not respect his genetic mother, but he seems to be limited to [respect].

This indifference even made Morgan feel a little offended: His personal belongings actually considered them equal in a sense?

The Spider Queen temporarily sat on a boulder. She rubbed her chin and watched the veteran's every move while thinking about other things in her mind.

According to the news she heard, except for some extremely special circumstances, when every Primarch returns to its own legion, it seems that it will carry out some kind of activities and orders similar to [cleansing].

Of course, this does not necessarily mean strife and bloodshed. In most cases, it is just the gradual loss of the core characters of the past. The former Legion culture gave way to the preferences of the Primarch, reorganizing the Emperor's Legion into these mortals. The army of demigods.

Morgan even witnessed how her blood relative Jonson carried out a small-scale purge. The King of Knights of Caliban did not shy away from this in front of her. Jonson also told her clearly why this was carried out. Kind of cleansing and replacement.

——————

"I gave the order, but the order was defied."

"There are various reasons for provocation. It may be some old-fashioned dogmas and habits. It may be that some warriors who have followed the emperor think that there is no real difference between them and me. It may also be the experience from the battle on Terra to the present. , honor and arrogance, making some people feel that their abilities exceed my wisdom."

"To be honest, I don't care what they think of me, I don't care what traditions they once followed, but now, my orders are being obstructed and provoked, and my will cannot be communicated and executed 100% - this is intolerable .”

"So, until my will becomes the will of the legion, and before my orders are free from any provocation or obstruction, I will not stop taking this action."

——————

At the time, she didn't care.

But now, after carefully thinking about Jonson's words as the Primarch of the Legion, the Mother of Genes, and the Lord of the Legion, Morgan found that she almost instinctively agreed with the blood relatives' words.

To have her command challenged?

What a joke.

A dark color flashed across Spider Queen's eyes, and at the same time, some preliminary ideas began to form in her mind.

In the future, Morgan certainly plans to purge her legion, but she does not intend to make this purge bloody, cruel, or merciless.

If those veterans who fought all the way from Terra understood what she meant and thought, she would not mind giving these most noble assets a future with enough honor and dignity: whether as respected elders or advisors who can make suggestions, She is even a legion manager with some kind of tacit understanding. She doesn't mind playing the role of a compassionate mother. Through exquisite compromises and tacit understanding, she gradually gains the actual power of the legion and everything that comes with it.

She even had a preliminary plan, a plan that was born out of the original inspiration brought to her by her blood relative Jonson's management of the Dark Angel Legion.

Of course, this plan does contain those billions of blood.

However, those bloodsheds were destined to have nothing to do with her, the compassionate, loving, powerful, and intelligent mother of genes.

Morgan stood up, her face returned to a smile, and she felt that her descendants had once again gathered along various routes, preparing to join a brand new battle: the fortress in front of them was bigger than Any of the great gates seen before were taller and tougher, and all the space wolves were rushing towards it.

When they level this place, there will be no obstacles that can stop them from destroying the [Engine of Destiny].

Morgan looked up.

She couldn't help but take a deep breath. At this moment, she was not far away from the psychic crusher who was shining with scarlet light in another dimension.

She could even smell that there seemed to be something intoxicating to her in Ran Dan's war artifact.

it.

Calling her.