The Emperor.
The greatest human to have ever lived. The being whose name the daemons of Chaos dare not speak. Black hair, golden eyes, and a psychic power so immense that Ahriman could not even begin to perceive it.
Besides the Emperor, Ahriman could think of no other possibility.
After eliminating all impossibilities, only one option remained before Ahriman. The being before him was very likely the Emperor—not the original, of course, but a special fragment of the Emperor, fused with one of his descendants. Not a Primarch created through special technology, but a true, biological son.
At this thought, Ahriman understood. But with understanding came an even greater resentment. Not toward the Emperor-figure before him, but toward that fool named Magnus. Why couldn't you have just asked your father for help? Why did you have to mess everything up with your so-called "prodigious wisdom"?
If that was the case, then he knew what he had to do.
There was no shame in submitting to such a being. Compared to the champions of the other three gods, Ahriman's relationship with the Imperium was relatively tame. For ten thousand years, he had no interest in wreaking havoc upon it.
So… with that thought, Ahriman knelt. He spoke slowly to Zhou Ye, "I will offer you my soul, so long as you can restore all of my Rubric Marines."
"Very well. I will fulfill your condition, and not with Tzeentch's method of covering the original mutation with a new one," Zhou Ye said coolly. "As insurance, lower your defenses. I need to leave a failsafe."
This was, frankly, his first time making a deal with a follower of Chaos, so he had to take certain precautions. Given Ahriman's power, unless the sorcerer willingly lowered his guard, Zhou Ye would have a hard time corrupting him. Not that he intended to fully corrupt him anyway; the man's psychic capacity was too vast, and the energy required would be immense. He just needed to ensure Ahriman wouldn't pull any tricks. So, Zhou Ye planned to plant a bomb deep within his soul.
Of course, he hoped this failsafe would never have to be used. Zhou Ye truly had no desire to experience a so-called betrayal.
"Fine…" Ahriman fell silent for a moment before giving a slow nod.
He knew it was a risk, but he was already standing before the entity. And his brothers truly had been restored. He was unwilling to abandon them and flee. Even if this person wasn't the Emperor, he certainly had a much deeper connection to him than any ordinary Primarch. So, he decided to take the gamble.
As expected, the next moment, a large hand was placed upon his head.
Instantly, countless images flashed through his mind, each accompanied by a faint narration.
In the primordial age, life was nurtured in the water. Great beasts roamed, and humanity took its first upright steps, embarking on the path of civilization, from its nascent beginnings to the vast starry sky.
In the classical era, civilizations rose from humble origins. From bronze to iron, horses and swords became the tools of conquest. The secrets of the sky and the cosmos were unveiled, and foreign shores were discovered under the guidance of the stars.
…
The legend of flying men became reality. Flight and communication technology shrank the world. Global conflicts arose from different understandings. Paths were chosen, dominion was faced, and the question of survival was answered.
The final image settled on a young man with black hair, gazing up at the stars from a grassy field. Then, the images fast-forwarded rapidly, and a series of ancient words began to echo in his mind.
"Mortals observe all laws, deconstructing the myriad phenomena to forge miracles anew."
"The highest heavens become a rampart, a dire pass for the calamitous gods."
"Lightning tears the long sky, star-streams of thunder deliver heavenly judgment."
"The mortal world erodes into decay, where gods and ghosts are indistinguishable, and the four souls are rent in two."
Pfft!
In that moment, Ahriman coughed up a mouthful of blood. His body went limp as if his soul had been torn out, and he collapsed to the ground. He had seen everything from an outsider's perspective—not a vision concocted by the Chaos Gods, but a dazzling tapestry of images powerful enough to create a world, whispered from the being before him.
He also felt that something new now resided in the depths of his soul—the insurance the being had placed within him.
"The pact is sealed. I bestow upon you what was promised."
An ancient and abstruse language echoed forth. In an instant, a sacred light emanated from the being. Ahriman watched as his brothers' bodies underwent a dramatic transformation. The curse was dissolving, their bodies restructuring.
"All evil and wickedness reduced to nothingness, life and death cycling without a trace, deconstructing all to forge miracles anew… Is this the might of the Emperor?" Ahriman whispered in a tone of utter shock, watching the scene unfold.
Almost in the next instant, all of the Thousand Sons Rubric Marines had been restored to normal.
"My Lord…"
---o---
(Scene shifts to Zhou Ye's perspective)
"Hmph, done. Seriously, what kind of random crap is in this guy's head? I couldn't stop myself from muttering nonsense again. Hope it doesn't mess him up too much," Zhou Ye grumbled to himself, watching the kneeling Ahriman.
Every time he created something, he couldn't help but add a little extra spice. Zhou Ye was well aware of this habit but had no intention of changing it. After all, this universe was so dull. Adding a small variation here and there, creating a few ripples, was far more interesting. Laughter was the right of all intelligent beings, and this world was sorely lacking in smiles. He couldn't make others laugh, but he could certainly give himself opportunities for a good chuckle.
This had nothing to do with Slaanesh. Slaanesh's path was far too narrow and hollow.
What did surprise him, however, was that Ahriman seemed to have changed slightly. Before, he had a hint of rebellious pride, but now, he seemed much more docile.
Whatever, no big deal. Everything just needs to proceed according to the original plan.
"Ahriman, I now need you to close these two Warp rifts."
Ignoring the two stunned pointy-ears behind him, Zhou Ye turned his gaze to Ahriman. Leaving these things open wasn't an option. Closing them himself would, one, be too energy-intensive, and two, he needed to join the battle. The sheer number of Khornate daemons was just too overwhelming. If he didn't intervene, his people would suffer heavy losses.
He could accept casualties; an army's growth couldn't rely solely on training. Only through the baptism of war could they truly evolve. But heavy losses were another matter entirely. Zhou Ye had no intention of squandering the forces he had worked so hard to build. So, he planned to enter the fray himself. At the very least, he had to deal with those Bloodthirsters. Although the Lords of Change were intercepting them, there were too few of those blue birds, and their magic wasn't particularly effective against the Khornate daemons.
Besides… he hadn't had a good fight last time. Right now, he just wanted to cut, cut, cut, and kill, kill, kill.
It wasn't that he was being influenced by Khorne. It was simply that after spending so much time on paperwork, he was feeling a bit irritable. He was itching to find a place to properly vent, and those Bloodthirsters were a perfect choice.
"The Lord of Change's rift was opened by me. It is not a permanent Warp rift, so it will close on its own soon. But the Blood God's…"
"You go close the rifts. Don't worry about the rest. I can restore your brothers, and I can just as easily leave you with nothing again."
"I know…" Ahriman nodded and turned to walk in the other direction.
"Captain Ahriman, we…" The newly restored Thousand Sons wanted to follow, but Ahriman stopped them.
"This is my sin to bear. You have only just recovered and your condition is unstable. Do not get involved."
"That one is going to make preparations. The two of you can do as you please. But don't pull any crap, or I will make you lose all hope forever."
Watching Ahriman leave, Zhou Ye turned to the two dumbfounded Eldar behind him and issued a warning. He couldn't be bothered with what these two pointy-ears did, as long as they didn't cause him any trouble. He'd have them take their people and leave later.
Then, leading his hundred-plus Honor Guard, he charged out, heading rapidly toward the battlefield.
…
"It's over just like that?" Yvraine watched as the drama with the now-subservient Ahriman concluded, finding it all a bit surreal.
"This is the rallying power of a Primarch. Even those who have fallen to Chaos will return. The prophecy of the God of the Dead has not changed. I cannot glean any future from him, but resurrecting Guilliman is still necessary. The Primarch before us might just watch as the Imperium of Man rusts and decays. We still need the Lord of the Ultramarines."
Watching Zhou Ye charge into battle and the wary gazes of the surrounding Thousand Sons, the Visarch spoke with concern. He was certain this was not the Primarch they were looking for. The Eldar needed an Imperium of Man with a certain degree of strength to help them resist Chaos. With the opening of the Great Rift, the Imperium was already hurtling toward the abyss. The only person who could pump the brakes was Guilliman. This Primarch might be mysterious and powerful, but he would absolutely not be the one to apply those brakes.
"What do we do now? Should we join the battle?" Yvraine asked her mentor, looking at the utterly chaotic scene.
"Let's wait and see. This Primarch knows what he's doing. It would be difficult to make him owe us anything. And with just the handful of us…" The Visarch shrugged helplessly. Their people were still in orbit. Besides, they had already lost half their forces fighting Ahriman. Teaming up with him now was out of the question. The current peace was only because Zhou Ye was present; who knew what would happen if they met again in the future. Furthermore, the Imperium held an equal hatred for all xenos. While the Eldar were one of the few who could occasionally negotiate and ally with them, considering his own people's colorful history, the Visarch felt it was best to just watch for now. If things went south, they could grab Cawl and this Primarch and retreat into the Webway. From there, they could go straight to Macragge. Using the entire Imperium of Man as a platform would be much more comfortable than this.
As for pulling any crap, they weren't those naive Craftworld Eldar.
…
Great wings once again unfurled from Zhou Ye's back, and he shot forward like a stream of light. His Honor Guard, now all equipped with multi-functional anti-gravity packs, followed close behind.
This time, however, Zhou Ye didn't just plant himself in the middle of the daemon army. He wasn't a true berserker, nor had he lost his head. Every time he charged, he had a clear plan. While none of the Bloodthirsters before him were named characters, their power level was close to that of the ones at the Battle of the Lion's Gate and was not to be underestimated.
But the main reason was… it was time to feast!!!
Although the continuous construction and use of the Star Rail network had given him an additional energy source, the network was still relatively small. Capturing these daemons and feasting on them was an excellent choice. And for some reason, the golden sword in his hand was now even more effective. Daemons slain by it yielded even more energy.
In his eyes, this Khornate host was a pure and simple farm. It was even better than the minions of Nurgle and Slaanesh. Khorne truly was a traditional daemon god; his minions looked good and tasted good.
Moreover, he desperately wanted to vent his emotions and give Khorne a black eye. The bastard had dared to open such a massive Warp rift right in his home. If he didn't do something about it, he would be letting Khorne down.
As he personally arrived on the front lines, a thunderous cheer erupted across the entire battlefield. Everyone, including the Black Templars and Celestine, felt a surge of immense glory. It was just like ten thousand years ago, during the most magnificent era. Under the leadership of a Primarch, Space Marines, Skitarii, Solar Auxilia, and Titan Legions charged forward in an orderly and coordinated assault.
Such brilliance, such holiness.
The Black Templars, in particular, were ecstatic. They could finally, like the ancients of old, dedicate everything, even their lives, to a glorious death on such a hallowed battlefield. They didn't even have to protect a Dreadnought anymore; after all, that one was surrounded by even more ancient Imperial Fists.
"For the Emperor!!!"
With a deafening roar, the Black Templars led the charge. Like the Khornate daemons, they reveled in close combat. Now, as Primaris Marines, they could unleash even greater strength.