These warriors in black and gold armor are the Shadow Guards—the Shadow Wardens.
As the dark guardians of the Imperium, they guard the underground prison of the Imperial Palace, specifically responsible for imprisoning and overseeing terrifying entities and forbidden secrets from the 'Old Night'.
The prison mostly holds beings of immense evil that are difficult to destroy completely; the people or things within are the dark past of the Imperium and the deep nightmare of humanity.
Terrifying entities from the Old Night, various peculiar artifacts, warlords from the Age of Strife, and daemons of unspeakable sin.
The responsibility of the Shadow Wardens is to guard these terrifying entities until the end of time, the day the Imperium collapses.
They are the most resilient warriors; every newly appointed Shadow Warden must pass the mental trials of the four greater daemons in the prison—
Not succumbing to the Blood God's ferocity, resisting the Dark Prince's temptations, enduring Nurgle's toxic gases, and ignoring the inspirations bestowed by the Lord of Change.
Imperial Guards who pass the trials will have their shining golden armor re-dyed to black and gold, signifying their official induction as members of the Shadow Guards.
It also means they abandon shallow honors, reside eternally in darkness, and protect the Imperium's deeply rooted foundations in unknown, hidden corners.
The newcomer was the Warden, who, following the Emperor's summons, arrived with ten Shadow Guards to apprehend the future enemy of humanity.
A golden light shot from the Emperor's eyes, piercing the Warden's armor, giving the servant an epiphany and explaining the alien's danger.
The genestealer is an extended tendril of a unified will, infiltrating the societies of other species and spreading genetic infection.
Its highly flexible proboscis can directly pierce a human's mouth, implanting its genetic material and stimulating the infected's desire to reproduce.
Stimulated by the desire to reproduce, the infected become insatiably hungry, mating with the opposite sex to produce deformed offspring, and under psychic hypnosis, the parents unconditionally dote on the deformed child.
Then the infection spreads rapidly through generations of hybridization, eventually overthrowing the entire world.
The Warden bowed to the Emperor and the Primarch, motioned for his subordinates to capture the Genestealer, and silently led the alien away.
Once in the dark dungeon, the alien would be interrogated by Psyker Masters and dissected by biological experts.
All data would be compiled and archived, to be retrieved at an opportune moment to deal with future crises.
The Shadow Guards left, and the Emperor nodded, asking Blazkowicz, "What are you carrying on your back?"
"The spoils of my journey." Blazkowicz took the scythe of death from his back, swung it twice in his hand, and said without hesitation, "I need your help."
"Oh? MY help??"
The Emperor's eyebrows raised, and a flicker of interest appeared on his tanned face.
He sensed a powerful force from the scythe; the lead-colored scythe's crescent blade traveled in higher dimensions, capable of stripping away souls.
"The C'tan—Nightbringer, Aza'gorod." Blazkowicz mentioned a name, his hand stroking the blade as he explained the weapon's origin: "The 'Death' we envision, this is its weapon lost in the Warp."
The scythe blade cut through the void, and a chilling cold light emanated, causing Malcador, standing nearby, to frown slightly and retreat a few steps with a tense face.
He felt an unease, his soul unstable within his body, sensing true death from the scythe.
Nightbringer, Aza'gorod.
When the Emperor thought of him, the image of a grim reaper in a black hood, wielding a soul-stripping scythe, involuntarily appeared in his mind.
He instilled the fear of death into the souls of all living beings; he is the personification of death.
"What do you intend to do with it?" The Emperor stepped forward, grasped the scythe of death, sensing the will of death within it, "How can I help you?"
He felt a chilling coldness; the "perpetual trait" within his body recoiled, this scythe of death could truly kill immortals!
"I want to reforge the C'tan weapon and forge a set of armor." Blazkowicz looked at the Emperor's slightly fatigued face, first stating his need, then outlining the specific plan: "Reforging a C'tan weapon is impossible by ordinary means."
He spread his left hand, and C'tan flames lit up in his palm, "Only a C'tan can fight a C'tan, so..."
"So you need the Void Dragon's help." The Emperor released the scythe, dispelling the bone-chilling cold, guessing Blazkowicz's plan.
"Yes!" Blazkowicz nodded, not denying his idea.
"Will the old one participate?" The Emperor neither agreed nor refused, instead lowering his gaze to the old one, asking an unrelated question.
"I am the master smith." Sintara's eyes gleamed as if she saw a divine artifact, rubbing her hands impatiently.
Upon receiving an affirmative answer, the Emperor's face darkened, his brows furrowed with a hint of indecision.
He had no reason to refuse Blazkowicz's request, but since it involved the old one, there were many more things to consider.
The Void Dragon was not a benevolent being. Not at all.
He had been imprisoned on Mars for thirty thousand years, filled with resentment and fury, and would not easily help humanity.
Most crucially, the old one and the C'tan were eternal enemies; the scene of the two meeting would be explosive just thinking about it.
If anything happened to the old one, there would be no going back.
The webway was the top priority; the Emperor cherished any factor beneficial to the webway project, let alone a living old one.
"The old one doesn't understand the webway." Perhaps seeing the reason for the Emperor's hesitation, Blazkowicz smiled brightly, his voice slightly regretful but unable to suppress his amusement.
"The Star-Melter, Flame-Hammer, Sintara." He bent down, picked up the old one, placed him on his shoulder, and spoke the cruel truth: "She is not a master builder; she specializes in weapon forging and design."
Hearing this explanation, the Emperor was somewhat flustered, his body trembling slightly, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Even the Chancellor Malcador fixed his gaze on the old one, demanding an answer.
"That is correct." Sintara nodded, sitting cross-legged in the void with her arms crossed: "Our race's technology is too profound; even our long lifespans make it difficult to comprehend it all.
To deeply understand the mysteries of the universe, our society has highly specialized divisions of labor; each member of our race chooses only one skill and then devotes their entire life to studying and exploring it.
The webway is a treasure of the universe, built by master builders working together. Although I provided them with many tools, I have always struggled to grasp its mysteries."
Upon receiving the old one's direct answer, a hint of bitterness welled up in the Emperor's eyes; fate favored Blazkowicz but did not consider the Imperium of Man.
It played a joke, teasing with hope through the old one, then pouring cold water on it with its own hands.
A sigh came, and Malcador exchanged glances with his old friend, both their eyes filled with helpless bitterness.
Humanity still had to rely on itself!
After a brief disappointment, the Emperor shook his head and exhaled, the disappointment not bringing him excessive strike or frustration.
If such a setback could affect his inner conviction, he would not be the Emperor!
His gaze left the old one, and the Emperor regained his composure, immediately making a decision: "We depart in two hours for Mars."
"You, I, he." He lowered his fingers, pointing to Blazkowicz, himself, and the old one, "This journey is very dangerous; others will not be useful."
The Emperor then turned to Malcador, his voice carrying a sense of entrustment: "Old friend, during my absence, the heavy burden falls upon you once again."
"It is my duty." Malcador did not refuse, smiling as he accepted everything.
"Old one," Blazkowicz bowed to Malcador, expressing apology and respect: "I trouble you."
"But I have one more request." The Emperor spoke again, but to the old one: "I hope, old one, that you can forge some tools for me that were once used for the webway."
As the Emperor, He constantly thought of humanity; he keenly observed that the old one had once forged tools for the webway.
"Certainly." Sintara patted her chest, generously agreeing, "This is a very good deal."
As a Forging Master, forging some tools was effortless, and as a condition for forging a divine artifact, it was an excellent deal.
Hearing this, a hint of satisfaction finally appeared on the Emperor's face, and he nodded slightly.
With the tools for building the webway from the old one, the safety of the webway project would be greatly enhanced.
"Harlan Ogilvy!"
Blazkowicz called Harlan, who puffed out his chest and stepped forward, awaiting his master's command.
"Obelisk," he called his offspring again, outlining the deployment: "Take the Doom Slayers and the newly born brothers, and follow the champion swordsman to Argent Nur."
"We obey your command!"
One black, one white, the responses of two powerful figures were firm and resonant, accepting the mission they were given.
Blazkowicz smiled slightly; in his telepathic sense, there were exactly one thousand offspring, and the Legion had a rudimentary form.
They would all go to Argent Nur to receive formal training, awaiting his return after completing his errands.
The Legion had a preliminary size and needed more formalized management; as the numbers increased, the current skirmisher model was no longer applicable, and Legion reform was imminent.
The Emperor also gave some important instructions, donned his True One armor, with his personal red sword at his waist, fully armed and ready to depart.
An hour later, the golden shuttle rose from the ground and headed straight for Mars.
Inside the shuttle cabin, Blazkowicz saw an unexpected person: the Commander of the Imperial Guard, Constantin Valdor.
Valdor held the spear of helios, donned his eagle-emblazoned golden armor, and sat at the tail of the shuttle. Though he didn't smile, the look of ease in his eyes was exceptionally clear.
"You're in a good mood?"
Blazkowicz offered a slight smile to the Commander of the Imperial Guard, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, and politely greeted him first.
"Naturally, I'm in a good mood when I'm relaxed." Valdor's lips curved slightly, revealing a hint of a smile: "Not having to face officials and nobles makes my ears much quieter."
Suddenly, he sighed, and the relaxed expression on his face completely vanished: "Officials form cliques, vying for all political resources, and nobles engage in alliances and maneuvers, beginning to use intermarriage and bloodlines to maintain their interests."
"In just a few short decades, with the remnants of the Old Night still fresh in memory, people have forgotten their lessons, and extravagance and debauchery are gradually emerging."
"My subordinates often report that nobles send anonymous gifts, attempting to get the Imperial Guard to accept them."
"Officials are no less active; the Visiting Card at the entrance of my residence have been burned, cart after cart."
Valdor shook his head, looking weary: "Facing these trivial matters all day long, it's truly hard to be in a good mood."
Blazkowicz found it hard to empathize, merely shrugging his shoulders and comforting him: "After society stabilizes, these things are unavoidable and are an important part of the functioning of human society."
Before he finished speaking, his gaze had already swept towards the Emperor, who was whispering with Sintara, but he saw that the Emperor's expression was as usual, as if he hadn't heard anything.
"My Master has witnessed human history; he has long been accustomed to it."
Valdor did not hide the darkness of the Empire and continued: "I don't blame mortals either; they are driven by fear to seize all survival resources for themselves and their families."
"I just find it very irritating to have to deal with these people."
"There's one more thing." The Commander of the Imperial Guard's expression became solemn. He sat in his seat, right fist against his chest, performing a warrior's salute: "Thank you for the provisions you sent."
"According to my statistics, the food sent from Argent Nur has saved at least two hundred billion lives."
"No need for this." Blazkowicz quickly waved his hand, telling him: "This is what I should do; food is not a valuable item."
"It saves lives." Valdor said with great emotion: "I often send the Imperial Guard to inspect food distribution to prevent this good intention from being tainted by greed."
"Such a thing still happens?" Blazkowicz's thick brows furrowed, and a look of displeasure appeared on his face: "How dare they?"
"There's nothing they don't dare." Valdor shook his head helplessly: "Terra is enveloped in the Emperor's radiance, but beneath his light, darkness has never dispersed."
Blazkowicz held his head, deeply aware that he had underestimated human greed.
With Malcador and Valdor jointly supervising, there were still people who dared to reach out with greedy hands, attempting to embezzle life-saving food.
His mind raced, recalling how the Nur Stars dealt with corruption, wanting to offer Valdor some help.
"Gentlemen, we are about to enter the Martian sphere."
The ship's announcement interrupted Blazkowicz's thoughts. The Imperial Guard reported the flight status, having already reached the Mars alert zone.
The Imperial Guard shuttle was extremely fast, and Mars's current orbit was at its closest point to Terra in its twenty-six-month cycle.
While the two were talking, the shuttle had already reached the edge of Mars.
"Be careful." Valdor growled a command, stood up, and walked to the cockpit to personally direct the ship.
The Emperor, armored, raised his right hand, and psychic energy made the ship invisible, facilitating a quiet infiltration of Mars.
Blazkowicz naturally understood this act of espionage.
If the Adeptus Mechanicus knew that the Void Dragon, representing technology and knowledge, was imprisoned in the Martian labyrinth, they would try everything, even risking the Emperor's wrath, to make contact with the C'tan.
The Void Dragon subtly influenced Mars; its existence was indispensable for Mars to become the cradle of human technology and give birth to countless advanced technologies.
Sintara leaned against the wall with one hand, closing her eyes and chanting an old one spell: "Invisibility."
Feeling the ship completely disappear from reality, the Emperor's eyes lit up, staring at Sintara's rapidly moving eyeballs, wondering what she was plotting again.
Only he himself knew that after the Tower of Babel was destroyed by his friend, the language of creation mastered by humanity had completely lost its inheritance .
The Emperor gazed at Sintara as if facing a dust-covered treasure trove, waiting only for the key to unlock all its precious contents.
Blazkowicz smiled.
Sintara was too timid, too afraid of the Emperor, and needed to show some things to prove her value, to avoid being silenced like a toad afterward.
Actually, there was no need for this; he was fully capable of protecting her.
However, he also didn't stop her; how much could be gained from the red toad depended entirely on the Emperor's methods... The shuttle, like a golden ghost, entered the outer reaches of Mars, passing through countless dense sensors.
As the Adeptus Mechanicus's homeworld, Mars's defense system was densely packed to an outrageous degree.
One ring interlocking with another, one layer overlapping another.
Countless sensors were spread throughout the void; even an object the size of an egg could not escape detection by the augur in the vast universe.
With the Emperor's psychic blessing and Sintara's spell protection, its stealth was extremely strong. The shuttle elegantly avoided the sensors, continuously approaching Mars.
This was also Blazkowicz's first close-up observation of Mars. This crimson star, once a human space base, ushered in the Great Colonization era.
Above Mars's steel rings, large numbers of warships, either under construction or awaiting delivery, were docked. Steel behemoths awaited awakening to join the glorious Great Crusade.
Closer still, one could see the matrix factories built by the Adeptus Mechanicus based on science on its crimson body. Molten fires burned ceaselessly, manufacturing military equipment for the Great Crusade.
Thin atmosphere filled with industrial toxins, factory chimneys billowing thick smoke, toxic fog and sandstorms converging into bone-gnawing tempests.
The shuttle landed in a canyon, quickly ascending after dropping off its passengers to avoid detection by patrolling Skitarii.
The group walked in the canyon's shadows. Valdor put on his helmet, isolating himself from the toxins and sandstorms, and led the way with his spear.
Blazkowicz flared his nostrils, inhaling the Martian air, his expression unchanged.
Air that could poison a mortal in mere seconds was, to him, merely unpleasant, with no physiological effect.
The Emperor retracted his golden light, casting a psychic barrier to protect himself and Sintara.
They evaded dense scans, following the canyon's fissures, battling the swirling sandstorms, and advancing towards the sealed land.
Although Mars was shrouded in toxic gas, there were also benefits.
The entire population resided in matrix cities, sheltered beneath sand-proof shields and air purification equipment. The wasteland was a forbidden zone for life; absolutely no one could survive there.
Precisely because the wasteland was a deadly place where ordinary people could not survive, it reduced the risk of the group's whereabouts being exposed.
"This is it."
Valdor crouched down, his gleaming golden gauntlet brushing away the red sand, and pulled open the gate hidden beneath the rock wall.
"It's very dangerous inside." The Emperor warned, then stepped forward and leaped down into the pit.
"Old one, please hold onto me." Blazkowicz picked up Sintara and placed her on his shoulder, following closely behind the Emperor into the pit.
Valdor followed immediately, swinging his spear of helios to embed it into the pit wall as a decelerator, preventing injury from a high fall.
Clang ~
As the gate closed, cutting off the last sliver of light, the entire tunnel plunged into darkness.
With the sound of landing, golden light illuminated the tunnel. The Emperor's radiance dispelled the darkness and lit up the path ahead.
Blazkowicz casually threw away the corpse of a spider-like, half-mechanical creature that had attacked him, clinging to the tunnel wall.
He shook his hand, flicking off the viscous mixture of oil and blood, then drew his dimensional longsword from his waist, illuminating it to survey his surroundings.
The four stood at a starting point. Ahead was a smooth, new mechanical tunnel, eight meters high and eight meters wide, extending into the dark depths.
Sintara perched on his shoulder, his arm clutching Blazkowicz's cloak tightly, terrified of being left alone in this gloomy place.
"Eternal Night Labyrinth." The Emperor's tone held a hint of nostalgia, "I haven't been here in a long time."
He walked to the smooth mechanical wall, reached out, and operated a exposed panel with lightning speed, a crucial part of the decryption process.
"Beep ~ Beep ~"
A holographic projection popped from the ceiling, green light forming a panoramic view of the labyrinth for entrants to reference the route.
Countless square rooms changed and combined in the projection, never stopping for a moment, then formed various elements.
"In the glorious past, I personally designed the Eternal Night Labyrinth."
The Emperor continuously operated, his deep voice carrying a hint of pride: "This self-repairing, mobile labyrinth has yet to be cracked by anyone."
"And our target," he pointed to a grid in the projection, "the C'tan Void Dragon is right there."
"We need to follow the route for one cycle to avoid getting lost and reach our final destination."
Blazkowicz nodded, seeing the room in the center of the labyrinth, walked to the edge, tapped the steel wall, "You said it can self-repair?"
"Yes..." The Emperor had a very bad premonition.
"Then do you clearly remember the route?" Blazkowicz grinned.
"I do."
"Then it's easy!"
Space shattered. Blazkowicz pulled out his shield-saw and held it in front of him, then turned to the Emperor and said, "Just point the way!"
Blazkowicz held his shield across his chest with his right hand, the saw-blade edges spinning rapidly, reaching maximum speed amidst the buzzing whine of the motor.
The saw-blades projected fiery light-blades, and at high-speed rotation, Blazkowicz seemed to be holding a sun in his hand.
His left palm was directly facing his chest, and C'tan flames condensed into a high-temperature ray, erupting from the center of his five fingers.
The mechanical wall instantly melted, mechanical structures and rock solution mixing together, turning into molten crimson magma that dripped down.
"Follow me closely!" he roared, his body straightening like a sharp sword, and with a powerful push from his legs, he shot forward with the old one on his back!
Bang!!!
With a loud crash, the outer tunnels of the Labyrinth trembled, the mechanical walls groaned, rocks shattered, and a passage was forcibly broken through the wall!
Blazkowicz channeled all his divine power, pushing through the steel mechanical wall with an unstoppable force, creating a circular pit.
At this moment, "invincible" was personified.
Scorching iron wash over his body, splashing rocks fled in panic, the tunnel echo like war drums, what could stop him?
Sintara's face was filled with shock; one hand gripped Blazkowicz's shoulder armor, while the other cast a psychic spell on herself to resist the impact's shockwave.
The Emperor's body emitted a soft glow, his eight-meter height shrinking just enough to pass through the tunnel.
He flicked a golden light from his finger, sending it into Valdor's forehead, inputting the calculated route into his mind.
The journey ahead was a race against the Labyrinth's changes, requiring urgent communication of directions.
Knowing that his own speech was too slow to adapt to the environment, the Emperor entrusted this important task to his most trusted servant.
"Follow him." The Emperor instructed, his figure flashing into a golden lightning bolt, following closely behind Blazkowicz.
Valdor took a deep breath, watched the several figures ahead, each displaying their divine abilities, and quickly moved his legs to catch up, lest he fall behind and be lost forever in the Labyrinth.
"Left."
The first eight-meter wall was penetrated in the blink of an eye, and Valdor immediately reported the next intersection.
Blazkowicz's body let out a muffled thud as his explosive power technique allowed him to make a sharp right-angle turn at the intersection, astonishing everyone.
The old one was thrown dizzy, its tongue dragging long behind it, its hands clutching Blazkowicz's shoulder armor tightly, not daring to relax in the slightest.
Valdor lowered his body, his gleaming golden magnetic boots sparking as they scraped, and he slid to dissipate momentum, catching up to the Primarch's pace, and promptly reported the next intersection.
The Emperor flew in the air, looking back at the Labyrinth he had designed.
The tunnel they had just passed through reconstructed itself the next second; the self-repair protocol had activated, and soon the Labyrinth would be restored to its original state.
He breathed a sigh of relief; if it weren't for the self-repair protocol, the Eternal Night Labyrinth would be unusable after this.
If the cage was damaged, they would need to find another place of confinement.
Thankfully!
The Emperor felt a sense of relief; when building the Eternal Night Labyrinth, how wise it was of him to override all objections and greatly increase the redundant design.
"Straight."
Valdor's heavy voice sounded again, with an almost irrepressible excitement.
The violent factor slumbering in human genes was activated by the witnessed destruction, and the Commander of the Imperial Guard's breathing inevitably quickened a few beats.
Bang!
As the sound faded, a crash followed, another high wall of the Labyrinth was breached, yet their footsteps never paused, magnetic shoes crackling.
Seeing his sons and servants engrossed in destruction, the Emperor shook his head helplessly; Blazkowicz, like a juggernaut, smashed everything in his path.
The thick walls, composed of mechanical structures mixed with rock, were fragile before him, collapsing at a touch like Old Terra cheese.
Blazkowicz, using sheer brute force, conquered the outer reaches of the Eternal Night Labyrinth, leading them deeper.
At the very front of the team, Blazkowicz's right hand was as solid as iron, resisting the recoil from the shield-saw's force field.
Paving the way seemed easy, merely using brute force to smash a path, but it was not; it actually involved wisdom, combining technology and strength.
The key to moving mountains and stones was the built-in "reflection force field," which allowed the shield-saw to rebound impact forces.
When the shield-saw collided with the wall, an impact wave erupted at the point of collision, and the reflection force field bounced the impact back, applying it again to the mechanical wall.
The distance was too close, so the wall rebounded the force again, which was then bounced back by the force field.
This cycle of impact force could repeat tens of thousands of times in a second, creating high-frequency vibrations.
It seemed as if Blazkowicz was smashing through the wall with brute force, but in reality, it was as if he was holding a high-frequency hole-puncher, combined with the shield-saw's energy blade, drilling through the Labyrinth wall.
"Right."
A report came to his ear, and Blazkowicz turned again, following Valdor's guidance, raising his shield and charging towards the wall.
"Up."
Blazkowicz frowned but did not hesitate, stepping forward decisively.
The world spun, gravity was no longer uniform but segmented, and the Labyrinth detached from a single plane, becoming a three-dimensional structure.
The Labyrinth, personally designed by the Emperor, began to display its extraordinary qualities.
Up, down, left, right.
Up, down, left, right.
Through a cycle of guiding voices, in just a few hours, the team exited the outer Labyrinth and reached the central area.
They stopped; ahead, there were no longer fixed walls and passages.
"We are a thousand kilometers deep beneath Mars." The Emperor took a step forward, pointing his index finger skyward, emitting a golden light.
Psychic radiance erupted, and their vision suddenly cleared; before them was a "moving wall" that reached impossibly high.
They were in a colossal cavern, and looking up, in all directions—up, down, left, and right—there were numerous Labyrinth exits.
In the center of the air, a massive brown cube floated, emitting a tremendous roar.
It was a creation of rock and technology, floating and rotating, each side a colossal wall.
Countless cubic boxes floated and shifted on its surface; the walls constantly rearranged and combined, never pausing.
"Oh."
Sintara's eyes lit up, and she leaped off Blazkowicz's shoulder, bouncing towards the floating wall, seemingly having discovered something new and exciting.
Valdor followed behind her; the Emperor's order was for the Commander of the Imperial Guard to protect the old one's safety.
The Emperor slowly began to explain: "Ahead is the middle layer of the Labyrinth, a constantly moving Rubik's Cube Labyrinth.
Each of its faces is composed of a million square rooms, driven by ancient random technology, completely without pattern. The Rubik's Cube's random engine is truly random, with no patterns or solutions.
A prison of half reflected architecture, dark unending prisms. Intruders who take the wrong path will face countless traps and teleportation devices; a slight misstep could undo all their efforts."
At this point, the Emperor glanced at the tattered Blazkowicz, his tone deep and pointed: "Without the key, no one can enter; violence cannot solve this problem."
Blazkowicz brushed the dust from his body, tore off his tattered cloak, and his eyes were filled with deep suspicion: "Don't tell me you forgot to bring the key?"
He clenched his fists, his suspicion towards the Emperor gradually turning dangerous: "Violence can't solve the problem, but it's very useful."
"In your impression, am I very unreliable in my dealings?" Unjustly suspected, the Emperor narrowed his eyes, somewhat indignant.
Blazkowicz nodded deeply, his expression calm and serious.
"Sigh~~~"
The old father sighed with a touch of sadness, walked to the Rubik's Cube Labyrinth, and when a giant corner rotated to its peak, he reached out and pressed his hand on the floating wall.
Click… The originally roaring, constantly moving wall paused, then detached from randomness, and began to rapidly combine in a regular pattern.
"The key will not be forgotten," the Emperor stepped back a few paces, extending his arms to embrace the giant Rubik's Cube, "because I am the key!"
No sooner had he spoken than, with the roaring arrangement and combination, the floating Rubik's Cube slowly descended to the ground, and a passage slowly formed on the wall before the Emperor.
Blazkowicz stomped his foot, kicking up the shield-saw placed on the ground, caught it steadily with his hand, and strode inside.
The three quickly followed, fearing the team would separate within the Labyrinth.
With the Emperor himself present, the Rubik's Cube was calm and uneventful; the group encountered no surprises and reached the core area in just two hours.
The core of the Rubik's Cube was not large; it was a smooth cubic room, and in the center of the room was a sapphire blue cube, emitting a faint blue light.
Here, Blazkowicz finally saw the holographic projection image the Emperor had pointed out when they entered the Eternal Night Labyrinth.
Inside the blue cube, hundreds of thousands of miniature cubes slid chaotically, arranging themselves into various combinations.
Only one fixed cube, emitting a green light, remained in the center of the cube.
"What trick is this now?" Blazkowicz asked with interest; he felt like he was in a game, almost ready to claim the winning treasure.
"Hyper-dimension." The old one's characteristic mumbling voice sounded, and Sintara grinned, exclaiming: "Humans are truly remarkable; in just tens of thousands of years, technology has developed to this extent."
"Your praise is too much, elder." The Emperor humbly replied out of politeness, yet his lips curled into a smile, unable to hide a hint of pride.
Humans had touched upon the mysteries of the universe in just tens of thousands of years; this unique advantage was indeed something to be proud of.
"What do we do next?" Valdor lightly tapped the hyper-dimensional wall, producing a tapping sound like glass.
"This hyper-dimensional space, as vast as a world, was the most draining in terms of effort and time," the Emperor said, holding a psychic light that conjured images, vividly illustrating the dangers.
"Once inside the hyper-dimensional space, everything except the spatial cubes will be invisible."
"We need to tread through the void, following a hidden path, step by step, towards the dimensional core."
"There aren't many dangers along the way, but the journey itself is the greatest danger."
The psychic light outlined an invisible path, a direct route to the core.
The Emperor's face was more serious than ever, his gaze sweeping over the three, issuing a stern warning: "One wrong step, and you fall into a bottomless abyss."
"Cracks will immediately appear in the hyper-dimensional space, swallowing the misstepper and exiling them to an unknown space."
He shook his head and sighed, "One wrong step is irreversible."
"Beyond the dimension, you can see but not touch. You'll never know how many layers of space separate you from your goal, lost beyond time and space, never to return."
The Emperor's somber tone made the atmosphere in the room heavy, even the usually nonchalant Blazkowicz frowned deeply.
This journey, seemingly easy, was in fact extremely perilous.
Without the Emperor, its designer, to guide the way, ordinary people would never be able to reach this place.
Valdor also fell silent; the dangers they now faced were beyond what a superhuman body could withstand.
His Master, the Emperor, also wore a solemn expression when confronted with these perils, his dark brown face etched with apprehension.
"Uh…" Sintara pulled a few golden rings from a pouch at her waist, breaking the heavy gloom. "It's not that dangerous after all."
The old one's words drew their gazes. The three tall humans all looked down at the short toad.
She hopped around, distributing the rings to everyone, explaining their function: "These are dimensional anchors."
"When constructing the webway, I designed them to prevent our people from being swallowed by chaotic space."
"The anchors create reality anchor points, so even if swallowed by a dimensional rift, you can return to the anchored space."
Blazkowicz quickly took one and slipped it onto his arm. The ring glowed with a white light, forming a light-nail that pierced into reality.
Such a clever little tool, the Emperor naturally wouldn't refuse. Even if he didn't need it himself, it would be excellent for research and collection.
Valdor fastened the ring to his waist belt; wearing it on his arm would hinder his weapon swings.
With all preparations made, the Emperor led them to a hidden corner and found a teleportation platform.
The teleportation light flashed and vanished. The platform, which required countless deciphering and searching, transported them into the hyper-dimensional space under the designer's authority.
As the white teleportation light descended, a brilliant blue filled Blazkowicz's vision, a sight vastly different from what he had seen outside.
This was a blue sea of light, with shimmering glows in the void, like circuit board traces, constantly illuminating to maintain the dimensional space's operation.
From outside space, those one-cubic-centimeter cubes now appeared to be hundreds of cubic meters in size.
They floated in the air, continuously submerging into the blue sea and shifting their positions.
It was then that Blazkowicz realized those dimensional spaces were individual cages, holding the prisoners the Emperor had captured.
"Keep up." As he observed the strange sights, the Emperor's call came to his ear; he had already found the route to the core.
The Emperor stepped off the platform, firmly treading in the void. His tense face instantly relaxed, and he let out a long sigh: "The first step was correct, so the rest naturally won't be wrong."
"..." Blazkowicz shook his head silently, feeling an extremely unreliable, gambling-like vibe of "it should be here."
"Follow my footsteps closely, walk where I have walked."
The group followed the Emperor's steps, precisely treading where he had, moving through the void towards the core of the hyper-dimensional space.
After a few steps, Blazkowicz looked at the cube-shaped cages suspended in the air and asked, "Can they escape?"
"Yes," the Emperor replied without turning back, still moving forward step by step, "they can die faster."
He raised his hand and pointed to the high sky, indicating the cubes equipped with ancient weapons. "Not only is the journey within this space perilous, but there are also various offensive weapons."
"No outsider has ever traversed this labyrinth, nor has anyone ever left. There are no loopholes."
"The hyper-dimensional space is a self-contained entity; its internal rules have been rewritten. Prisoners entering it are not allowed to act by the rules."
"Their consciousness still exists, and their brains can issue neural commands to their bodies, but their bodies will not move, atoning in eternal stillness."
After receiving the answer, Blazkowicz asked no more questions, following step by step, admiring the fantastical prison crafted by technology.
The group chatted idly, led by the Emperor, as they headed towards the prison holding the Void Dragon.
Due to the rules, they had to walk on solid ground.
After two weeks, they finally reached the green-glowing cage and stepped onto a fixed platform.
"How was he imprisoned here?" At the entrance of the cell, the team stopped to adjust their condition, and the old one also asked the question that had bothered him for a long time.
Even through the cube-shaped cage and under the suppression of the "all still" rule, he could still sense the C'tan's power; he was still active.
The Void Dragon's condition was excellent, far exceeding Sintara's expectations. He should be about seventy percent intact, and the power he radiated alone was heart-stopping.
The Emperor took his sword from his waist and recounted the ancient tale: "That is an ancient legend."
"In the 3rd century of human reckoning, a 'dragon' descended from the stars to Earth, wreaking havoc and initiating slaughter. Humanity was powerless to resist him, scattering and fleeing under his tyranny."
"He nested in the city of Cyrene in Libya, demanding tribute from the humans who submitted to his rule."
After the overview, the Emperor couldn't help but puff out his chest, continuing in an admiring tone: "A hero named Saint George happened to pass by. Upon learning of the evil dragon from the local princess, he decided to eradicate the evil."
"He wore golden armor, rode a horse, and, holding a massive lance against his chest, charged at the evil dragon."
"The battle lasted a long time, accompanied by heavy rain and thunder. Saint George defeated the evil dragon, but he did not kill it."
"The hero Saint George imprisoned the dragon and paraded him before the people, dispelling the long-standing gloom and fear, and accepted the princess's love."
Valdor listened with keen interest; he clearly realized that Saint George was the Emperor.
At that time on Earth, besides the Emperor himself, there was no other powerhouse capable of defeating the Void Dragon.
The old one listened carefully to the story, then scratched the back of her head, feeling his scalp tingle.
She hadn't expected that there were still strong individuals among humans who had defeated the descending Void Dragon.
To defeat the C'tans back then, the Necrons had used every means possible, activating god-slaying weapons, to shatter them into pieces.
The price they paid was a significant loss of strength for the Necrons, rendering them unable to control the galaxy, and the entire race fell into slumber.
Unbelievable!
Among the human race, talents emerged one after another. With just a horse and a spear, someone had managed to defeat and imprison the Void Dragon.
"Saint George is you, isn't he?" Blazkowicz, standing nearby, couldn't stand the Emperor's smug expression and exposed his pretense.
"Indeed!" the Emperor declared proudly, "That dragon-slaying hero was I!"
"After defeating the evil dragon, I learned he was a C'tan—the Void Dragon—and imprisoned him by my side. Later, as human technology advanced, I built the Eternal Night Labyrinth to seal him."
"And I haven't seen him since."
The old one's gaze left the Emperor's face, a look of understanding dawning on him. That made sense.
This individual before him indeed possessed the strength to defeat and seal the Void Dragon.
The Emperor's expression sobered and became serious. He walked to the cube's door, reached out to touch the bars, and input psychic energy to open the door.
Blazkowicz stood tall in front of the old one and Valdor, his left hand holding a shield, his right gripping a super shotgun.
A C'tan was a formidable foe; treating him with seriousness was the greatest respect.
Valdor held his spear of helios horizontally, blocking in front of the old one, ready to protect the old one's safety even with his body in the most dangerous moment.
Click—
The cube's four-petal door opened inwards, and a fluorescent green light surged out like a tide, casting distorted "cross" shadows on the platform.
A trace of C'tan aura leaked from the door crack, and the metal seams of Blazkowicz's shoulder plates and leg armor immediately glowed green, emitting a faint hum.
Unblessed technological creations, tainted by the C'tan's aura, were about to become an extension of his will!
His eyes narrowed, and he lunged forward, kicking the slowly opening door!
Thump!!!
Green light exploded. Blazkowicz pierced through the light curtain, his gaze fixed on the depths of the cell—
There, a lead-grey humanoid figure sat majestically on a golden throne, its naked body gleaming with a metallic cold light. Inwardly curved metal wings embraced a cluster of condensed green light like a cage, and a segmented tail coiled around the base.
The C'tan's faceless obsidian skull was tilted, as if gazing through the dimension at the intruders.
__________________
Sintara O-O