Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Eight-year-old Cyrene-Valantine is used to celebrating her birthdays alone.

Maybe in a few decades, this little girl with long light brown hair will be revered by countless believers as the "Blessed Lady", but now, she is just a lowly person living in a perfect city. In a high-level city, he is just an orphan who has to rely on the care of the local grassroots church to grow up.

She has no friends, no confidants, not many acquaintances who can be named, and of course, no parents: her parents are among the thousands of people who died in the line of duty to build this great city, and their noble deaths are Little Cyrene received a large pension, a free cabin, and special care from the local church.

Relying on these material conditions and the impeccable good security of the perfect city, Cyrene was able to grow up safely. Although her parents' departure made her always a little lonely, other aspects of her life were quite satisfactory: after all, she controlled this The most powerful people at the grassroots level in this city are a group of devout and old-fashioned elders. They built this great city with the Word Bearers forty years ago. They regard it as their own children and naturally will not allow any evil. It breeds here.

Under their protection, even an eight-year-old orphan, as long as she puts on the red robe that symbolizes a girl, can grow up safely and soundly. In addition to being strict about the emperor's daily worship, it is also almost harsh. Cyrene had nothing to worry about except being regularly checked for his theological knowledge.

Growing up, the biggest hardships little Cyrene had to endure were the pushing and quarreling with her classmates, and being beaten several times by the nun who took care of her because she couldn't answer questions about the emperor. Lower your palms.

Compared with most of her peers in this galaxy, she is carefree, and even the troubles in her heart are so ridiculous: she is just sad that she cannot have a birthday like those playmates in the neighbor's house. A lively family dinner; and resentment over old-fashioned gifts given by elders in the church that have nothing new to say.

But what dissatisfied Cyrene the most was the kind hawker uncle who lived next door and was about to move out.

She grew up eating hot dogs and fast food dinners made by her uncle, and the middle-aged man who always had a kind face did help little Cyrene a lot when she was growing up, so Ling Nian What the young orphan couldn't understand was: Why did this gentle elder want to leave the perfect city, leave the apartment building they rented together, and move to Avalon, which he cherished most?

Where is that?

It is said that on the other side of the galaxy?

It should be very far away, maybe dozens of kilometers away, and maybe it would have to go all the way outside the city wall: How should he get there?

For nearly half a month, these serious mathematical problems troubled little Cyrene, until the day of her birthday: just as she was holding the book given to her by the nun, which was both a birthday gift and an after-school textbook. When I was drowsy after reading the "Emperor's Words" for my homework, a huge noise, like a group of steel giants panting, exploded out of thin air above the heads of the entire perfect city.

She poked her head out, like hundreds of other residents in the apartment building, and found that the sun above her head had disappeared, followed by countless solid [dark clouds]: they just stayed there, just like Every resident felt sincere fear, and the bustling city fell silent for a moment.

In this way, when Cyrene celebrated her eighth birthday.

For the first time, she saw the fleet of the Human Empire that could cover the sky and the sun.

(Cyrene-Valantine, also known as the Blessed Lady, is an important figure in the Word Bearers Legion. However, because there are various translations of its name in China, I only chose the name Cyrene, which I prefer. Yes, everyone just knows that she is the blessed lady)

…

Surprisingly, after this apocalyptic appearance, the fleet suspended above the entire perfect city no longer took any large-scale actions: no shuttles descended from it like a meteor shower. , and did not drop a destructive light spear, but most of the sunlight disappeared from the heads of Cyrene and others.

At the beginning, there were varying degrees of riots in various urban areas, but the city's rulers and grassroots organizations soon received certain certain news, and the restless crowds were calmed down by various means until Order has returned to the city again.

After that, life returned to its original state, except that occasionally there would be a few huge aircraft, like snake eagles, passing over the city of Cyrene. Sometimes they were golden, sometimes silver, turbines They would make violent noises, waking up Cyrene who was resting from her tranquility: whenever she went to observe the trajectories of these aircraft, she would find that they eventually headed towards the most upscale urban area in the entire perfect city, with only high altitudes. Only the priests and wealthy businessmen would set up their residences on the luxurious streets there.

This situation continued for a few more days, until almost everyone was used to the fleet above their heads and the aircraft whizzing by: Cyrene knew the time very accurately, because the day the fleet arrived was her birthday. , and ten days after her birthday, she could already hear all kinds of rumors in the church and on the street.

She heard the respected elders discussing semi-publicly the actions of the bigwigs on the fleet: It is said that it is not all fleets that are entrenched above the Perfect City, but only a part of the Iron Sea. There are also quite a few ships carrying a large number of mortal craftsmen who have gone to other worlds in this galaxy to build various shelters and permanent settlements.

In the feudal world of Monacia where the Perfect City is located, the other sixteen cities, except for this holy city, have also successively received envoys from the Empire: they were ordered to vacate some residential houses in the residential area, or simply cooperate with the Empire's construction team to build new towns and strongholds in suitable locations.

What's more, the merchants walking on the streets would swear that when they passed the city wall, they could see from afar that new towns were rising from the ground on the skyline, and in the core areas of the Perfect City, there were also countless wealthy families who seemed to be counting their property and contacting huge aircraft, as if they were going to migrate with their entire family.

The above rumors are just a few of the more reliable ones among thousands of them. Wherever Cyrene went, she seemed to always hear the sound of discussion and quarrel: this city accustomed to order and prayer seemed to have never been as [young] as it is now. Although Cyrene did not like this state, all she could do was to lock herself in the room and wait quietly for the dark clouds to leave.

She waited for another four days.

In other words, two weeks after her eighth birthday, two weeks after those huge imperial fleets appeared over the Perfect City, perhaps those big men had done all the preliminary work, or perhaps the rulers had lost their patience: in short, the situation finally ushered in a complete change.

When the dawn of this day just arrived, a noise completely opposite to the previous one came from the sky: it was a flying vehicle, it was an airdrop capsule, it was thousands of shining stars that cut through the night that had not yet faded, and landed accurately on every square in the city amid the morning prayers of ten thousand minarets.

The drop pod that fell from the sky was decorated with a relief of the Imperial double-headed eagle. It was blackened during the burning process in the atmosphere. The noise of the huge engine and booster hummed, making the air shake and burn. Every breath could smell the strong smell of burning.

Cyrene had witnessed this scene. In the oldest scroll she could find, she knew that just over forty years ago, a legion, a group of angels of the Emperor, had come to this land in the same way. They were called the Word Bearers, and it was they who led people to build the great perfect city.

All the elderly people in this city had witnessed that scene and deeply engraved it in their minds. They led the young people like Cyrene to gather in the squares of various districts, devoutly waiting for the warriors to come again.

"They are back..."

Cyrene could hear the elder sister who came to take care of her muttering to herself. She knelt down on both sides of the square with thousands of people, and didn't even bother to blame the little girl who was still standing: It was a blessing in disguise. Cyrene could see every scene that followed.

The huge airdrop pod hummed, the heavy door slowly opened, the sound of hydraulic pneumatic rods working echoed between panting and nervous crying, the shouts of worship were getting louder and louder, and everyone in the square, except Cyrene, had knelt down.

But she still stood, looking directly at those majestic warriors, and comparing them with the paintings on the ancient scrolls: the little girl keenly noticed that these warriors were not wearing dark red and gray armor, and their armor was not decorated with sacred parchment, but a completely different outfit.

They were divided into two colors, silver and cobalt blue. The former was relatively simple, but the polished gold stripes on their armor still looked sacred, while the blue armored warriors were wrapped in a layer of gorgeous bronze reliefs, and they were equally heroic.

However, no matter what these warriors looked like, just a glance at their majestic figures was enough to make mortals blindly believe any word they said: even Cyrene had to admit this, as if she was waiting for the judgment of fate, she was waiting devoutly for these warriors to finally speak.

These warriors were divided into small teams and stood in the square surrounded by people, silently maintaining their majesty. Mortal believers knelt down, prayed, and raised their hands devoutly, eager to become their slaves. This made these angels a little confused, but they still maintained their politeness: those in silver armor looked more calm, while those in blue armor were as stiff as robots.

But this embarrassing scene lasted less than five minutes, because the local church staff and the officials sent by the rulers were maintaining order in public places with unimaginable efficiency, as if they had foreseen the arrival of these angels long ago. The road leading to the square was specially cleared until the shocking footsteps were faintly heard from the edge of each city.

Soldiers, phalanxes, and flags, phalanxes after phalanxes, guns after guns, a sea of ​​flags and shining armor emerged from every entrance of the Perfect City, and finally gathered into countless huge armies: these mortal warriors also came from the Imperial Fleet above their heads, and they had come down a few days ago. However, they only officially appeared today. Although these people are far less eye-catching than the Emperor's angels, their majestic armor and neat phalanxes, as well as the solemn expressions on each of their faces, can still make the residents of the Perfect City admire them.

They watched with respect as these Emperor's warriors occupied various traffic passes and commanding heights in the Perfect City, dividing these natives into controllable groups: No one would think there was anything wrong with these actions, because their respective respected elders and nuns also treated these foreign warriors with great respect.

Moving forward, gathering and silence, and continuous low prayers, half of Terra standard time slowly slipped by: just when Cyrene, who was standing barefoot on the ground, felt that her ankle was a little sore, the last warrior also arrived at his post, so the Emperor's angel standing in the center of the square finally picked up his communicator.

He seemed to be waiting for some orders, waiting for the situation of the fighting brothers, until all the thousands of squares in the entire Perfect City completed the above process, and all the silver-armored warriors took unified action: they saw a huge flag woven with gold and silver and embroidered with the Imperial double-headed eagle, firmly standing in the center of the square, and the dazzling light appeared immediately.

Cyrene could hear the elders beside her constantly praising the Emperor's name, because a living miracle happened before their eyes: everyone could clearly see that with the fluttering of the flag, a golden figure loomed in the flag, and finally floated out and slowly rose to the sky of the Perfect City.

In the thousands of squares, there were thousands of figures, each of them was so holy, just like the legendary Emperor descended: and when they finally gathered above the entire perfect city, they condensed into a new [sun].

A gentler sun.

In the blink of an eye, just as Cyrene was stunned, she heard the unified and loud voices of the Emperor's angels: the warriors in silver armor saluted the sun, while the warriors in blue armor remained silent, but still posed a gesture of respect.

In the eyes of everyone, the light around the sun gradually dissipated, and then a flawless face was revealed: Cyrene could see her long silver hair, blue-green pupils, and a dignified upper body like the god in the portrait, but she could not see more details on the face.

Faintly, she felt that the face should be her mother, whom she had never had an impression of. She hoped that the mother in her dream would be like this. In the eyes of others, she heard the elders whispering about the people they cherished most.

[Good day, people of the Emperor. ]

The sun smiled at them. She seemed to be facing one direction, but everyone felt that she was facing them. Her lips hardly moved, but the voice echoed in everyone's heart: this living miracle made the crowd fall into a frenzy, and the prayers that came one after another were like a flood after the early spring.

But when she spoke again, the crowd fell silent.

[Let me introduce myself: My name is Morgan, the blood of the Emperor, the Lord of the Dawnbreaker and the Far Eastern Frontier, and, as you think in your mind at this moment, I am the brother of the Great Word Bearer Lorgar, and the warriors standing in front of you in silver armor and blue armor are also brothers of the Word Bearers. ]

[We come on their behalf, and we bring the order from the Emperor. 】

Cyrene felt that she was drowned by the cheers from the crowd: even the most cautious believers were now worshipping the Emperor's angels who were still somewhat confused with the greatest enthusiasm.

But the sun in the sky did not let the cheers last too long.

[Then...]

The sun raised its voice.

[I, Morgan, exercise my authority here and take effect here: I follow the tenth decree issued by the Emperor, and my descendants and the 47th Expedition Fleet shall comply with it. ]

[In the name of the Emperor of Mankind, the people of the Perfect City: You must move out of this city within fifteen days. ]

Thousands of prayers stopped at this moment, and Cyrene saw confusion and bewilderment in the eyes of the elders: But in the same way, the sun did not let this dead silence last too long, and her next voice was like dew in the desert.

[Because, the Emperor of mankind will descend here in fifteen days. He will descend in front of the Perfect City, where he will receive Lorgar and all the Word Bearers summoned by him, and issue a sacred decree to them: In order for this great meeting to proceed smoothly, the Perfect City should be completely purified. ]

[So, in the name of the Emperor and the Word Bearers Legion, you need to cooperate with this sacred meeting, and you need to move out of this city where you have lived for a long time immediately, because from this moment on, every inch of land here will only belong to the glory of the Emperor. ]

[Remember, you are not driven away, but leave with pride, because the Emperor has chosen this city. Among the countless worlds and cities in the galaxy, he finally chose the perfect city you built: he hopes that you can dedicate this city to him, just as your heart desires. ]

Discussions rang out in the crowd, but more of them were excited and trembling.

Cyrene could hear that some people were proudly whispering [they were chosen by the Emperor], most of these people were the most fanatical elders; and some others, mostly middle-aged people with busy faces, were just worried about their fate after leaving; only young people like her seemed to remain ignorant of the scene in front of them, and only marveled at the appearance of the second sun in the sky.

However, the sun seemed to be able to hear the voices of each of them.

[Don't worry, people of the Perfect City. The Emperor always keeps your life and happiness in mind: In the past period of time, we have built countless shelters and necessary living facilities throughout the Monachia galaxy, enough to accommodate each of you, to ensure that your life will not be disturbed in any way. ]

[There will be countless resources to shelter and comfort you, the most loyal people: I swear in the name of the Emperor, you will be greeted by a better tomorrow. ]

[In contrast, I also hope that you can cooperate with the actions of the Emperor's angels. We have brought sufficient means of transportation. As long as you remain rational and orderly, everyone will leave safely: Please take away your belongings as much as possible, and do your best to cooperate with the actions of the angels, because the Emperor's orders are unquestionable. He is destined to come here in fifteen days, and what greets him must also be a pure and perfect city. 】

【In addition, the first group of residents to leave the city will receive a special gift from the Emperor: they will be assigned to a group of newly established settlements closest to the Perfect City, where they will be able to witness the sacred meeting between the Emperor and the entire Word Bearers Legion. 】

The discussion continued in the crowd, but this time it seemed much more enthusiastic: Cyrene heard the elder sister kneeling beside her, mumbling to herself how to pack her bags as quickly as possible.

Next, the sun in the sky seemed to say something again, but Cyrene could no longer hear it clearly. The only thing she could notice was that after the warm sun gradually disappeared, the Emperor's angels, who had been maintaining silence and solemnity, finally began to act.

Although some cries were still heard in the crowd: there are always people who are reluctant to leave the hometown where they were born and raised, but even without the Emperor's angels speaking, the elders and nuns who have always been respected by people have already taken the initiative to stand up and denounce this behavior. They used sacred prayers and passionate speeches to call on the devout faith in everyone's heart. Under the sun that has not yet dispersed, this is an extremely simple thing.

Since the Emperor has issued an order, since the perfect city they have watered with their blood and sweat can be favored by the gods themselves, then what reason do they have to continue to be attached to it: this can't even be called a test from the gods, because the gods have already prepared sufficient rewards for them.

The respected elders led everyone's thoughts, and the officials sent from the administrative district took out the plan that had been prepared long ago. The Astartes and mortal soldiers guarded the main roads to avoid possible trampling. Even among the crowded crowd, there were many cheers, which easily attracted more and more devout prayers.

Everything went so smoothly, everything seemed to have been prepared in advance.

But no one cared about this.

Before Cyrene could react, the crowd gathered at the outermost side had already turned around and walked towards their residence under the leadership of several [Determined], and the dazed majority followed behind these people, like a flock of sheep being led, leaving the sacred square one after another, and the Astartes warriors and mortal soldiers walked among them, maintaining order and supporting the old, weak and disabled.

The tide of tens of thousands of people was no different from a migrating herd of animals. Although the Emperor's angels were trying their best to coordinate order, Cyrene was still stumbling in the crowd. She wanted to seek help from the elder sister, but the elder was a little absent-minded at this time, and she was surrounded by other children who asked her for help. This made Cyrene slowly squeezed to the edge of the square in the tide of the crowd.

Just as she struggled to climb the steps of the store next to the square to let herself catch her breath, Cyrene suddenly felt as if someone had grabbed her neck: the man just exerted a little force and lifted her to the safe steps.

"Be careful, little girl."

Cyrene heard an old voice that sounded like an adult man.

Turning his head, he saw a face that matched the voice. It was a face with firm skin and ravines, short hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. His armor was not polished like other warriors, but had a simple texture that made people feel comfortable.

"Stay here for a while."

The man smiled at her, and Cyrene noticed that there was a very strange crest inlaid on the soldier's breastplate: at first glance, it looked like a combination of a sword and wings, but upon closer inspection, it turned out that I discovered that they were not wings, but two nameless flowers that looked exactly like wings.

Strange combination.

She muttered in her heart, but heard the man's words clearly.

"Where are your parents?"

The soldier pointed at the crowd below: Thanks to the efforts of the Astartes and mortal warriors, the chaotic crowd was gradually returning to order.

"I'll help you find them."

"..."

Cyrene was silent and did not respond. She searched for her nun in the crowd, but found nothing in the end. The soldiers standing behind her just witnessed all this in silence and figured out what was going on in their hearts.

"All right."

He pretended to reveal this piece of information easily.

"Then you stay here first, and then I'll take you back after the crowd has cleared. It just so happens that it's not my turn to be on duty yet, so I still have some free time."

The soldier was talking to himself, while Cyrene continued to remain silent. When she turned her head and looked at the man, the experienced soldier was touching his chin, and suddenly, he thought of something.

"Ah, right."

He smiled awkwardly.

"I forgot to ask: What is your name, young lady?"

"Cyrene."

The girl nodded, and she could sense the man's respect behind her smile.

"And you, sir?"

"I?"

The soldier raised his eyebrows.

"I have many names: but in Avalon..."

"Just call me Orpeson."