Chapter 90: Treachery: What the Heck??

A dark blue cross hovered in the air, flickering with pale blue light.

The cross meant Zhou Yun's question just now was wrong.

"Ah? Ahh?? Ah???" The winged figure in the white light opened its mouth wide, looking utterly stunned.

Zhou Yun blinked in confusion too.

If his eyes weren't deceiving him,

that was a cross just now.

The winged figure in the white light was not Sanguinius himself!

"You treacherous Lord of Change! Chaos Daemon!"

Zhou Yun glared at the winged figure in the white light and shouted:

"I was almost starting to believe you, yet you turn out to be a fake!"

"Wait!"

The winged figure in the white light seemed somewhat bewildered:

"If I am not Sanguinius, then what am I?"

"Who am I? Why am I on Baal? What is the connection between me and the Blood Angels?"

"This... this doesn't make sense."

The winged figure in the white light spoke with a tone full of bewilderment; he too seemed to have not expected this situation to occur.

"Could it be... could it be that I was truly created by the Lord of Change to deceive you, yet I myself do not even know it?"

A deathly silence hung in the air.

The winged figure in the white light and Zhou Yun simply stared at each other, eye to eye, in the narrow room.

"Zhou Yun, I truly did not deceive you... at least not subjectively."

"I did indeed regard you as a friend... for the past ten thousand years, I have spent most of my time existing alone within the Warp."

The winged figure in the white light spoke with a tone carrying a faint sadness:

"I can perceive the ceaseless prayers of humanity in the material universe directed toward me, yet I find it difficult to respond and converse with them."

"Being helpless is the most tormenting; yet even the most excellent among my progeny can only occasionally hear my voice."

"But you are different... you do not seem entirely material; you seem able to converse with me without being affected by the powers of the Warp."

"Regardless of who I am, I possess humanity, and I converse with you through that humanity—"

"Shut up, do not speak." Before the winged figure in the white light could finish, Zhou Yun cut him off directly: "Stop talking, I am thinking!"

"Ah?" A question mark appeared above the head of the winged figure in the white light.

Who exactly was he? Zhou Yun stared at him, his mind racing.

Lord of Change? A mad Horus? A Warp entity born from human faith? A new creation forged by Hua Di Huang?

Zhou Yun looked at the Truth-Seeker Divination Machine on the table.

One question remained.

Setting aside everything else, what should Zhou Yun ask now? The question pointing to the most fundamental truth.

The question Zhou Yun should ask regardless of who the winged figure in the white light was.

Zhou Yun took a deep breath and carefully formulated the next question.

"I should trust the winged figure in the white light and follow his guidance to Baal to resurrect Sanguinius; this is the option most beneficial to me."

A deathly silence hung in the air.

Both Zhou Yun and the winged figure in the white light stared fixedly at the Truth-Seeker Divination Machine before them.

A red ring leaped into the air, flickering several times.

"What the hell does this mean?" Zhou Yun and the winged figure in the white light spoke simultaneously.

The winged figure in the white light is not Sanguinius,

yet he can be trusted, and following his guidance will indeed resurrect Sanguinius,

and this is indeed the option most beneficial to Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun lowered his head, unable to help but frown tightly.

The winged figure in the white light is not Sanguinius; this is a clear fact. Unlike with Hua Di Huang, where the Truth-Seeker Divination Machine showed no reaction, indicating Hua Di Huang existed in an ambiguous state,

yet if Zhou Yun follows the guidance of the winged figure in the white light, he can indeed resurrect Sanguinius.

Could it be... that the winged figure in the white light is not yet Sanguinius now, but will somehow become Sanguinius upon resurrection?

Zhou Yun frowned tightly.

Although there were many doubts, the Truth-Seeker Divination Machine had already confirmed that the winged figure in the white light is trustworthy,

and following his guidance will indeed resurrect Sanguinius.

"What do you think?" Zhou Yun asked, looking at the winged figure in the white light.

"... Regardless of whether I am Sanguinius, regardless of whether it is me who returns upon resurrection."

The voice of the winged figure in the white light held not a shred of hesitation:

"As long as Sanguinius ultimately returns to the material universe, that is enough."

"The citizens of the Empire who pray devoutly to me... they need a little hope."

Deep within the crystal-like labyrinth of the Lord of Change in the Warp,

ninety-nine million nine hundred and ninety-nine riddles whispered upon the nine-fold gates, and nine hundred and ninety-nine Great Daemons danced outside the gates.

And within the nine-fold gates, the Lord of Change's shrill laughter echoed.

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Every time He laughed, an uncontrollable change occurred among the stars.

It twisted its body, at times like a white snake, at times like a soaring eagle, at times like an immortal, at times like an astrologer,

ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine transformations unfolded upon it, each transformation weaving forth a brand new fate,

It sought to make the wise commit foolish acts, and the foolish speak nothing but truth,

It sought to make governors fall to the lowest nests, and mutants ascend to high positions,

It sought to make the rich poor, and the poor rich,

It sought to make noble ladies base, and prostitutes noble,

It sought to fill everything with possibility, to make the future strange and ever-changing.

The Lord of Ten Thousand Changes, filled with delight, gazed upon the product of his work,

which were threads resembling a tangle of chaos, each thread extending into more threads,

symbolizing the future of the galaxy; every thread was a possible future.

"Ga?"

The Lord of Ten Thousand Changes suddenly noticed that these threads began to move without his manipulation,

these threads suddenly began to gather one by one, weaving into strands, and finally converging at a single point in time into a heavy and coarse thread,

"Ga????" The Lord of Ten Thousand Changes stared dumbfounded at the scene before him.

This situation symbolized that all possibilities had converged into one,

meaning the future within a certain period had been fixed, producing no changes and holding no other possibilities.

The fixed future spanned roughly one or two months in the material universe.

Not long, but indeed fixed; the future within these one or two months held only one possibility.

The Lord of Ten Thousand Changes felt somewhat angered,

for even a future spanning one or two months, he absolutely would not permit to remain without change,

he reached out his hand and began to tamper with that fixed future.

But whenever the Lord of Ten Thousand Changes diligently cultivated new possibilities, those possibilities would instantly converge, merging into that unchanging segment of the future.

The laughter of the Lord of Ten Thousand Changes ceased,

a future that could not be altered, forcibly fixed,

every essence, every existence, every power of the Lord of Ten Thousand Changes expressed his own disgust,

his body trembled, and his voice shrieked sharp as an eagle's cry:

"Who is it?"

"Who is it!!!"

(End of this chapter)