Looking at the shriveled body of Marquite on the ground, Alexander sighed.
Marquite's plan, in a sense, could indeed save all of Ashford.
If his plan succeeded, all of Ashford would fall into the Warp, becoming a part of the Warp.
This way, even the Tyranid hive Fleet would be helpless against Ashford.
But how many people could truly withstand Nurgle's love?
Nurgle wanted to save not only the humans on Ashford, but also every plant, every blade of grass, and even every bacterium and virus on Ashford.
"The Emperor loves all humanity, but such love is already too heavy to bear. How much more so when Nurgle loves all life?"
Alexander shook his head and looked at Joan.
The dazzling golden light on Joan's body had disappeared at some point.
Her hair had become dry again, with some scorched marks on the ends, and her eyes had returned to that hazy, deer-like appearance. Her skin had some shallow burns, her steps were a little unsteady, and her face was full of fatigue.
Alexander stepped forward, supported Joan, and led her to sit at the base of the metal pillar.
Joan gently rested her head on Alexander's lap.
Alexander observed Joan's injuries.
Most were not severe burns; although there was a risk of infection, they were not immediately fatal.
"His power did not project too much into the little girl's body, causing no irreversible damage."
Sanguinius said softly:
"She will be fine, as long as she has a long period of rest."
Listening to the words of Sanguinius, Alexander nodded gently.
"I'm fine," Joan nestled into Alexander's arms, her face, covered in freckles and burns, full of exhaustion.
Alexander gently stroked Joan's slightly scorched and curly hair.
Joan nestled closer into Alexander's arms like a kitten.
"I… I want to sleep for a while… All my money is in the trash mountain, where we first met."
Joan said, her voice growing fainter:
"And… remember those two ciphers. That's His reward—to reimburse your losses."
"Death."
"Only sacrifice to death."
"Only worship the Death God."
Joan murmured softly, leaning in Alexander's arms.
These two ciphers made Alexander frown slightly.
These were the prayers Alexander had heard in a hallucination when he received the blessing of that gloomy death intent.
They were prayers to a Death God.
Now it seemed, the true identity of the Death God was clear: it was the Emperor himself.
The Human Death God is the Emperor.
"Do you feel like He's not quite right?" Alexander frowned and asked Sanguinius.
Sanguinius was silent for a moment before slowly speaking:
"Is my father really my father?"
"Am I really my father's son?"
"..Huh?" Alexander was a little confused by the words of Sanguinius.
If your father isn't your father, and you're not your father's son... could your father be your son?
"..No, I mean, how much of Him still belongs to my father?"
Sanguinius said, his voice a little shaky:
"I've always been worried about His condition, but it seems that ten millennia of faith has had a profound impact on my father."
"..I have a question. In your era, was people's faith very common?"
"Very common, but most of the kingdoms I lived in were either godless or worshipped on an as-needed basis. Other kingdoms mostly worshipped a son of god nailed to a cross."
Alexander thought for a moment and said:
"That son of god might be the Emperor's alias, but I think it's unlikely."
"Why?" Sanguinius asked, confused.
"The Emperor had twenty-one sons, and more than half of them rebelled."
Alexander said with a serious expression:
"And that son of god had twelve disciples, and only one of them rebelled!"
"You truly can tell such blasphemous jokes at any time..."
Sanguinius shook his head:
"Regardless, you should also understand that faith is a human instinct. Humans will always worship something."
"Some worship the sky, some worship fire, some worship light, and some worship... death."
"These worships must have resonated in the Warp... And in humanity's fortieth millennium, most of these worships converged on my father."
"..My father ended all of humanity's gods and ultimately became all of them."
Alexander frowned.
The words of Sanguinius were too mysterious; he was a bit bewildered for a moment.
"Explain in detail?" Alexander asked, gently rubbing Joan's head, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
"..No time."
Sanguinius shook his head:
"You should quickly take this little girl and leave. It's not safe here."
Alexander nodded slightly.
The genestealer gathered here were clearly not all of them.
The genestealer patriarch's right claw was the genestealer bishop, responsible for developing the cult and spreading its influence, and was the chief psyker in the entire genestealer Cult.
And the genestealer patriarch's left claw was the genestealer Magus, responsible for leading and commanding the GSC's guerrilla warfare, and was the highest military commander in the entire genestealer Cult.
Alexander had already killed the bishop, but the patriarch had escaped, and the Magus was nowhere to be found.
Who knew when they would regroup and return to the First District?
Alexander picked up Joan, took the Denkōmaru that had fallen to the ground, and turned to leave the underground palace.
About ten minutes after Alexander left the underground palace,
Fluorescent green lines, like circuit boards, suddenly appeared in the air.
These lines intersected and converged, crackling and Damning, opening an extra-dimensional portal.
The lines forming the portal twisted and swayed, slowly distorting into a humanoid shape.
A tall, gaunt figure, entirely silver, glowing with a faint blue light, and wearing pale golden skirt armor, slowly emerged from it.
This silver figure was like a skeleton, its blue-glowing eyes filled with an empty deathly intent.
He took a step forward, entering the underground palace, and the extra-dimensional portal behind him vanished.
"The false god of the Empyrean."
He raised his head, looking at the location where the Warp rift had been earlier.
Then he looked down at Marquite, who lay dead on the ground:
"A pathetic monkey of genetic mutation."
The silver footsteps continued forward, seeing the already drying biomass pool and the remaining Tyranid remains within it.
"Predators from beyond the galaxy."
He extended his glaive-like staff, and a searing beam of light shot out, suddenly exploding and completely destroying the entire biomass pool.
"And..."
He looked around, his blue eyes scanning the entire area:
"Psyker? Sorcery? The monkey's king?"
In the blue light of his eyes, everything that had just happened in the underground palace seemed to be vaguely reflected.
However, one figure was blurry and indistinct, folded three times, as if leaving traces in different times simultaneously.
"An unknown time traveler?"
"It's getting more and more urgent; I also need to quickly awaken the dynasty in this star system."
As his words fell, an extra-dimensional portal reappeared behind the silver figure.
He vanished into it, his figure disappearing.