c1: It's Over, I've Become Erebus
The air of Colchis was as dry as ever, filled with dust blown in from the red deserts beyond Vharadesh. The wind carried the faint scent of incense and ash from the countless shrines of the Covenant.
Chen Chen stood before a polished bronze mirror, staring at the bald youth whose skin was inscribed with dense Colchisian scripture. The tattoos were not random decorations but verses from the Book of Lorgar, sacred passages painstakingly carved into flesh in accordance with Covenant tradition. The face reflected back at him was ascetic, sharp-eyed, devout an image known across the temples of the faith.
Good news: he had transmigrated.
Bad news: he had transmigrated into Warhammer 40,000.
Good news: he had a cheat.
Bad news: he had transmigrated into the body of Erebus.
And not the infamous First Chaplain of the Word Bearers yet—not the architect of the Heresy but the original Erebus of Colchis. The devout prodigy. The one who, according to fragmented memories and whispered village rumors, would one day be murdered and replaced by the ambitious boy history would remember.
Chen Chen had already discreetly confirmed the timeline through temple records and overheard clerical conversations. It was still before the coming of Lorgar Aurelian, before the Emperor's arrival, before the XVII Legion became the Word Bearers. Colchis remained a theocratic world ruled by the Covenant, its cities divided among rival sects who all worshipped the so-called "Powers" through allegory and symbol. He had only just been elevated from acolyte to ordained priest. The assassination had not yet occurred.
"I must change something," Chen Chen muttered.
A knock sounded on the heavy wooden door of his quarters.
"Lord Erebus," came the respectful voice of a servant, "today is the day of your return to your birthplace to preach the Ninth Canticle."
Return home.
Memory fragments surfaced dusty streets, stone dwellings, and another boy with burning ambition in his eyes. The real killer. The one who envied Erebus' brilliance in scripture and rhetoric. In the original timeline, during this extended preaching tour lasting more than a month, the ambitious youth would murder him in secret and assume his identity, later attaching himself to Lorgar's inner circle when the Primarch reshaped Colchis and united the Covenant.
So this was the turning point.
"In the end, can I really escape fate?" Chen Chen sighed. Since awakening on Colchis, he felt as if unseen gods were watchingthough here, the idea of gods was disturbingly literal.
"Enter," he said calmly. "From today onward, my religious name is Chen Chen. 'Erebus' is no longer to be spoken within these walls."
The elderly servant bowed deeply before entering. "As you command, Lord… Chen Chen."
Colchis had once possessed advanced technology before ages of holy war and doctrinal purges reduced it to a feudal, scripture-bound society. The Covenant enforced rigid hierarchies; priests ranked above nobles, and scripture outweighed steel. Even as a newly ordained priest, Chen Chen enjoyed privileges servants, scribes, and a carriage drawn by lean desert beasts.
"My Lord, which vestments will you wear?" The servant revealed four ceremonial robes, each embroidered with complex Colchisian runes.
These were not arbitrary colors. Within Covenant symbology, red represented righteous wrath and martial virtue, blue signified contemplation and hidden knowledge, green embodied rebirth and endurance, and purple denoted ecstatic devotion and artistic transcendence. In truth, these symbolic "virtues" were fragmented cultural reflections of the Warp entities the Covenant unknowingly venerated though at this era they understood them only as divine archetypes.
Chen Chen pointed to the blue robes. "Wisdom will suffice."
The servant nodded approvingly. The young priest was renowned for scriptural mastery. At the Grand Convocation of Vharadesh, he had out-debated senior clerics twice his age, reciting entire passages of the Book of Lorgar without error and interpreting apocryphal verses with startling insight. That achievement had earned him promotion at merely twelve standard years.
Even with inherited memories, Chen Chen could not help but think: Was this Warhammer's version of the Tripitaka?
Dressing in Covenant vestments was an ordeal. Layers of cloth had to be folded in precise doctrinal order, each knot symbolizing submission to divine will. Over centuries, competing sects had exaggerated complexity to display greater piety. One incorrect fold meant beginning again from the first layer. Fortunately, Chen Chen only had to stand still while the servant labored in silent misery.
When finished, Chen Chen examined himself. The blue robes contrasted with the black scripture etched into his scalp and cheeks. Solemn. Intellectual. Untouchable.
Then he pointed at the second set.
"This one is suitable," he said thoughtfully, "but I will wear the red."
The servant's hands trembled. Re-tying everything would take another half hour.
[Ding! Negative emotions from Old Joram +1, +2…]
The System's notification chimed in his mind.
Chen Chen felt immediate relief. His cheat allowed him to harvest emotional fluctuations resentment, frustration, fear and convert them into strength. In a world where future Space Marines would wield bolters and daemons would whisper from the Warp, any advantage was welcome. Of course, provoking people also increased the chance of a knife between the ribs or, centuries later, a bolt shell to the skull.
He had deliberately selected Old Joram as his attendant. Timid, devout, psychologically fragile. The man would seethe internally yet never dare betray a priest of the Covenant. Over the past few days alone, he had generated a respectable supply of negative emotion.
As the servant began untying the intricate knots with shaking fingers, Chen Chen gazed out the narrow window toward the distant desert horizon.
Somewhere in that world, the boy who would become the infamous Erebus still breathed.
This time, the story of Colchis would not unfold as recorded in the dark annals of the Imperium.
Unfortunately, Old Joram was merely a household bondsman of the Covenant temple barely literate in the deeper verses of the Book of Lorgar and insignificant within the ecclesiarchy of Colchis. The emotional fluctuations he generated were pitifully small. After several days of experimentation, Chen Chen had already reached a conclusion: the higher a person's status within the Covenant hierarchy, the stronger their soul's resonance in the Warp and the more "negative emotions" they produced when their faith, pride, or patience cracked. Unfortunately, he was still just a newly ordained priest and did not dare provoke Archdeacons or Cardinals tied to the future rise of Lorgar Aurelian. For now, he could only harvest scraps from minor figures like Old Joram.
"Hm… the second set is also suitable, but let's try the third. This is the last time. My apologies for the trouble, Old Joram."
[Ding! Negative emotions from Old Joram +3, +2…]
"This one is decent. Let's see the final set. Truly the last time."
[Ding! Negative emotions from Old Joram +4, +5…]
"I am quite satisfied with this one… but after consideration, we shall return to the first. The first better reflects doctrinal orthodoxy."
[Ding! Negative emotions from Old Joram +10…]
Watching Old Joram's complexion darken like the volcanic soil of Nocturne, Chen Chen wisely stopped. Even a meek servant might one day report him to a superior cleric for doctrinal impropriety.
He opened the [System Menu].
Four options appeared:
[Shop]
[Gacha Center]
[Income Record]
[Balance: 20]
The Shop's upper limit was absurdly high. Chen Chen had even glimpsed items such as "Godhood (Conceptual Authority Type)." The description was vague, but the pricing was astronomical, and the prerequisites included conditions like "Control of a Warp Domain" and "Established Faith Network Across a Stellar Civilization." He could only stare helplessly.
"Twenty points…" Chen Chen muttered. "At this rate, how many Cardinals must I enrage before I can purchase divinity? I might as well crawl into the Webway beneath Terra and knock on the Golden Throne. Perhaps the Emperor would award me godhood out of irritation."
He was referring, of course, to The Emperor of Mankind though the thought alone would be heresy beyond redemption in any future Imperial record.
It seemed his early-stage turnaround depended entirely on the System's beginner benefit.
[Gacha Center] 100 points per pull.
Newcomers receive one free ten-pull with a million-fold critical bonus.
The interface resembled the predatory mobile games of his past life. The drop rates were horrifying. Legendary items: one in ten million. Mythic items such as "Godhood": one in ten billion.
But this was his only opportunity for an early miracle. "Forgive me," Chen Chen whispered, "but today I gamble."
He wasn't greedy. Even a Legendary-grade artifact comparable to a daemon-binding relic or a pre-Imperial archeotech scripture would suffice.
He pressed the glowing "Ten-Pull" icon. The thousand beginner points vanished instantly.
[Ding! Persuasion +1]
[Ding! Persuasion +1]
[Ding! Persuasion +1]
A cool clarity flowed into his mind. His grasp of rhetoric sharpened; doctrinal contradictions aligned neatly in his thoughts. He could already imagine overwhelming rival priests in debate during Covenant convocations.
His expression, however, darkened.
What was the difference between this and a "Thank you for participating"? I'm on a planet that will one day kneel to Chaos, and the System gives me debating skill?
First pull. Second. Third… Ninth.
Nothing substantial.
Chen Chen felt despair creeping in. Did this infernal mechanism lack even a pity system? In his previous life he had been cursed with terrible luck in every game was fate mocking him across realities? "Even the XVIII Legion would not claim such misfortune," he muttered, thinking of the stoic warriors of Salamanders.
On the tenth pull
[Ding!]
A blinding spiritual radiance erupted within his Sea of Consciousness. His perception shifted upward into the Immaterium itself.
Within the Warp, where thoughts formed tides and emotions became storms, his soul projection flickered. Normally, the Sea of Souls around Colchis churned subtly, influenced by the proto-faith of the Covenant a faith that unknowingly echoed the presence of the Four Great Powers: Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Slaanesh.
Yet now, beside his soul, something alien appeared.
A seed.
It was not daemonic. Not metallic. Not psychic in the conventional Imperial sense. It radiated calm, structured illumination utterly incompatible with the madness of the Warp.
[bodhi seed (Mythic Item, Unique) has been stored in your inventory. Bind?]
"Bind."
The seed vanished from the inventory interface. In the Warp, it embedded beside his soul-form and sprouted instantly into a luminous sapling. Pale golden light expanded outward, forming a thin but stable domain a tranquil "clearing" within the Immaterium. The surrounding Warp turbulence bent away, unable to penetrate the boundary.
Whispers faded.
Predatory attention receded.
Even the subtle, ever-present currents that might have drawn the notice of Tzeentch's daemons felt… muted.
[bodhi seed (Growth Type)]
— Wisdom Awakening
— Blessed Land Formation
— Resistance to Warp Intrusion
— True Self Perception
— Karmic Obfuscation
Chen Chen inhaled sharply.
On Colchis future cradle of the Word Bearers every prayer, every sermon, every emotional surge fed the Warp. The Covenant believed they worshipped abstract virtues, but their devotions resonated with the Four Powers. In the original timeline, Erebus would become the most devoted apostle of Chaos, the one who engineered Horus' fall and ignited the galaxy-spanning civil war later recorded as the Horus Heresy.
And now
He possessed a Warp-clearing sanctuary anchored to his soul.
"Does this mean…" Chen Chen exhaled slowly, tension draining from him for the first time since awakening. "That my karmic threads are hidden?"
He had felt constant dread since transmigrating. On this world, the gaze of the Chaos Gods was not metaphorical. Ambition, devotion, rage such emotions were beacons.
But with the bodhi seed shielding his soul, he sensed that even if Tzeentch himself peered into the skeins of fate, Chen Chen's origin would remain indistinct.
Confidence surged.
Erebus the future architect of damnation would become one of the central figures of the Horus Heresy, manipulating Primarchs and corrupting Legions. But at this moment, that "Erebus" was merely an ambitious youth in a dusty Colchisian village.
"If I cannot contend with gods," Chen Chen murmured, eyes narrowing, "I can at least deal with you."
For the first time since arriving in this doomed timeline, he felt something dangerous.
Anticipation.