The Creators: From Night City

Page 510

Om Messiah inexplicably announced the start of the second phase of a grand plan known only to the two of them.

Amidst the confusion of everyone in the hall, a shocking change suddenly occurred.

Within the warp, the Emperor, residing in the Star Torch, suddenly unleashed his power.

Endless light rose from the starlight torches, precisely piercing the night sky of the Dark Forest and projecting itself onto the sky above Macragge, illuminating the entire warp space and briefly making it the second 'Darkless Land' of the human empire.

A subtle, strange feeling welled up in the hearts of all humanity at the same time. Although they were 'blinded and heartbroken,' they still sensed that the great Lord of Humanity seemed to have descended upon them.

The entire city of Macurag was immediately engulfed in religious fervor, with countless people prostrating themselves in worship.

Of course, there were also many 'traitors,' 'heretics,' and 'spies' who were exposed by the emperor and had their souls burned away by golden flames emanating from within.

But the deaths of these people could not stop the spread of religious fanaticism. As the number of people praying increased, the magnificent holy image of the emperor could even be vaguely outlined in the sky above the entire planet.

Of course, this scene only exists in the 'vision' of devout believers.

In the eyes of all psionicists, the Emperor had indeed descended.

A surge of psionic energy, far exceeding the intensity of all psionic levels in the Empire, radiated onto the souls of every human psionicist, filling them completely through their 'veil openings'.

This was not the emperor's intentional act, but rather a subconscious manifestation of his current concept of existence.

Just as Slaanesh's first cry at birth drained the souls of most Eldar and led to the destruction of the Eldar Empire, the emperors after their 'ascension' were also half-human gods.

His power would unconsciously radiate to the souls of all humans, but ordinary people, separated by the 'veil' of the world, received less of it, while psionicists, due to the existence of the 'hole', received it most directly.

If the Emperor were to truly ascend to the throne of the 'Dark Lord' and become the fifth evil god of the Warp, the endless negative emotions accumulated by the entire human race since its birth would undoubtedly kill everyone in Macragge at this moment.

Fortunately, the Emperor is still in power, and the energy he manifests is positive psionic energy under his control. Humans exposed to the radiation are not only safe, but can also be assimilated by the Emperor and given different levels of positive buffs depending on how closely they are connected to the human race.

Seraph Theodosius, the chief curator of the Ultramarines' think tank, naturally possesses one of the strongest psionic abilities.

Therefore, at this moment he could even clearly see the magnificent and sacred figure located in the Macuragia space.

Endless golden flames surged from his face, almost transforming him into a pure giant of light.

The lingering, oppressive feeling of the subspace that had haunted me like a leech was completely swept away, replaced by a feeling of warmth and comfort, like being bathed in the sun.

After all, the Emperor's power had almost turned the warp to which Macragge belonged into a 'golden puff,' and these psionic projections were now bathed in the Emperor's radiance, so they naturally no longer felt that sense of crisis.

Therefore, the entire honor guard of the Hall of Glory knelt down instantly.

Although Robert Guilliman was used by the Emperor as a pawn to attract Tzeentch's attention, his revival and return were actually an important milestone in the 'great rejuvenation of mankind'.

The role he will need to assume in the upcoming 'plan' requires him to have unparalleled prestige within the human empire in order to facilitate the rapid advancement of the work.

With time running out and no time to let the other party slowly build up their hopes, the duo decided to take a different approach and force things forward. They chose to use the power of the State Church to market Robert Guilliman's resurrection as an unprecedented and grand 'miracle,' shaping this Primarch into the legitimate Son of God, and incidentally, to reorganize the State Church system.

The empire has been persecuted by religious ignorance for tens of thousands of years; it's time for it to reap some religious benefits.

Once the plan is in place, the Father will belong to the Emperor, the Son to Guilliman, and the Holy Spirit to Jiang Bing; the three will be united as one, and the human empire will surely prosper and have a bright future.

Guilliman, whose "divine son" persona is firmly established, will possess unparalleled orthodoxy from the outset in a human empire where a state religion prevails.

When the name is correct, the words will be appropriate; when the words are appropriate, the cause of the army will be justified.

Therefore, in this matter, in a dimension invisible to mortals, on a battlefield unique to the gods, both of them devoted tremendous energy.

Within the subspace, the Emperor laid the foundation for the stage while simultaneously shielding the Four Gods from their gaze, thus fulfilling his mission.

Next, it was Jiang Bing's turn to perform.

Chapter 1037 The Performance in Progress

Since arriving in the Warhammer universe, he has never revealed his true body, but now, for the first time, he has completely unleashed himself.

Endless ether burst into flames, enveloping the tiny human bodies in towering light and fire.

The etheric fire spread from where Jiang Bing stood, rapidly burning in all directions.

The intense light spilled over the walls etched with millennia of history, permeating all living things, the land, the machinery, and everything within the palace.

To ensure Robert Guilliman's safety, Jiang Bing briefly 'sanctified' this place as his domain.

Immediately afterwards, his mortal body shattered into countless specks of light, scattering in all directions.

The next instant, as the 'Ether Furnace' operated at full power for the first time, the [Forger] truly descended upon the material universe.

His body collapsed from a higher dimension and was 'forged' in a lower dimension, resulting in a perfect body that is indescribably enormous, comparable to the stars and the moon.

He stood silently amidst the cold starry sky, like a great sun.

Thousands of proverbs danced around the divine body, and countless materialized knowledge manifested as concrete creation runes, forging a magnificent robe that shone with a brilliance that mortals could hardly look directly at.

The light of knowledge shines from the top of His head. When mortals see it, they immediately gain all sorts of insights related to knowledge and acquire a wealth of knowledge out of thin air.

The motorists bowed low, trembling uncontrollably. They revered knowledge, and this was the moment when the words of the sacred texts would come true.

Of course, this phenomenon of high-dimensional information penetrating and radiating into low-dimensional space was intentional on Jiang Bing's part, in order to cater to the stereotype of 'Om Messiah' in the minds of believers.

Standing there, it firmly filled the entire sky above the planet Macurag, its enormous body spanning the northern and southern hemispheres, physically standing shoulder to shoulder with the planet.

An immeasurable amount of ether was burning fiercely. In order to make this grand performance perfect, Jiang Bing did not care at all about the consumption of ether.

As He brought His enormous head close to Macurag, the atmosphere rippled violently, and massive amounts of clouds were violently pushed apart. They rubbed together so intensely that they produced a huge amount of thunderstorms.

Before the very eyes of billions of residents and numerous defense fleets, the Holy Spirit of the Empire, the Divine Om Messiah, truly descended to earth.

In the silence of the entire planet, He stretched out an arm as long as a mountain, reaching towards the top of the Temple of Glory.

Endless golden flames descended like a waterfall, enveloping the entire hall.

The matter was dissolving, and the palace structure, which was strong enough to withstand the bombardment of the light spears, silently turned into nothingness, exposing the situation inside the palace to the public.

Jiang Bing subtly adjusted his body position to allow the detection arrays of several fleets located outside the orbit to better record the current situation.

Robert Guilliman, who had been sealed by a static force field for ten thousand years, was enveloped in a towering pillar of light that seemed to be cast from pure gold, and slowly rose into the air.

In order to allow the Sage Caldwell, who was in charge of close-up photography, to take clearer pictures, Jiang Bing deliberately slowed down Guilliman's ascension so that the other party could take a qualified 'front-page picture'.

At this moment, all beings prostrate themselves in worship, intoxicated by the power of the God-Emperor and Om Messiah.

Their souls were filled with a warm glow, as if a golden sun was shining selflessly upon them, purifying their spiritual burdens, weariness, and long-standing ailments.

At this moment, flowers rained down from the sky, golden lotuses sprang from the ground, and endless golden flames transformed into a rain of light, falling freely from the heavens to the human world.

Where the rain of light falls, vegetation flourishes. Trees awaken in spring, all things burst forth, life blossoms, and humans bathed in the rain of light find their bodies rapidly recovering their health. Chronic ailments and hidden illnesses gradually recede, frail bodies become visibly robust, aging bodies rapidly regain vitality, parched and withered bodies generate new blood and energy, scars fade, wounds heal, and even severed limbs begin to regenerate at an astonishing pace.

The two atmosphere team members, Shenhuang and Jiang Bing, worked together in both the subspace and reality dimensions to create the atmosphere for this 'miracle'.

They also attract the attention of all viewers, enjoying the worship and reverence of hundreds of billions of people.

But the real work was done by the poor outsourced employee, Rasma.

In the realm of the dead, the gaunt Rasma's hands surged with powerful magic as she rapidly analyzed and explored Robert Guilliman's physical condition, searching for a solution.

"How is it?" Jiang Bing asked inquiringly from the side.

"As expected, it is a powerful 'spiritual plague,' or rather, a 'spiritual plague' that possesses or is alive."

Rasmar flicked his pale index finger, and a wisp of pale green miasma, constantly writhing and shifting, was pulled from the patient's body.

"It is 'fierce' and 'thirsty,' even retaining trace amounts of activity during the solidification process."

Rasma examined the plague with the smile of an inquisitive person finding something interesting.

"This is a plague that Nurgle carefully brewed in that cauldron of dung, a deadly poison specifically designed to harm the very essence of the warp," the Emperor said from the other side.

Each Primarch possesses some kind of subspace quality; they are true demigods, not only with extraordinary physical bodies and extremely strong healing abilities, but also with extraordinary souls, making them truly 'born with divine abilities'.

This is also the fundamental reason why each of the original genes exhibits different extraordinary qualities.

“That’s true,” Masla said.

"This 'spiritual plague' was specially designed for his strong body. It is alive and can only live in a sufficiently powerful body. His perfect body has become the breeding ground for this 'spiritual plague' to survive."

The grayish-white magic surged continuously, and a large amount of 'spiritual plague' was pulled out by Rasmar, but the miasma lines continued to spread endlessly, as if they would never end.

"interesting"

Rasmar immediately perked up.

"Exquisite design, outstanding concept"

The necromancer couldn't help but praise it.

The white, chilling mist, mixed with miasma, churned and swelled.

"No wonder it cannot be removed by conventional medical means and so-called psionic methods; its essence is that it was originally 'parasitic'."

"This 'plague' does not simply destroy life, but also simultaneously corrupts the very essence of the victim's life."

"Unless you can shake the essence of his soul and remove it from the source, this 'spiritual plague' will never be eradicated and will continue to grow rapidly, using the opponent's powerful essence as a breeding ground."

"Is there a solution?" Jiang Bing asked.

"certainly"

Rasmar was a man whose expertise lay in the spirit, bones, and flesh.

“Ritual magic can be used to forcibly separate the ‘spiritual plague’ mixed in the opponent’s essence, but this plague is too complex and powerful, and it will take a long time.”

"Or I could use magic to separate his soul from his body, so that his body could at least return to normal and get rid of the near-death state, while the ailments of his soul could be slowly healed."

"Alternatively, I can temporarily suppress the activity of this 'spiritual plague' with a spell. Give me some time, and I can create a 'special medicine' at the source level to kill it."

“We don’t have much time left,” Jiang Bing said, revealing their current predicament.

"Serious illnesses require strong medicine, two bigwigs."

Jiang Bing rubbed his fingers together, already having made a plan.

"It would be better if I refined him and reforged him. In the process, I could also find his subspace essence that was sealed by the real universe and the barrier of perception, and at the same time complete the elevation of his life form and find the full power of the Primarch."

Chapter 1038 Will the Gene Primal Dream of Subspace?

An eternally burning hand rested on Jiang Bing's shoulder.

The Emperor emphasized for the first time: "You need to consult his opinion, 'Craftsman,' after all, he is now a new and independent individual with a complete personality and memories, and may not want to pick up his past self."

Jiang Bingzhi raised an eyebrow at these words.

"I never expected that you, Emperor, Lord of Mankind, would actually speak of human rights!"

As it turns out, Jiang Bing was indeed overthinking things; the Emperor was still the same domineering human ruler who was used to 'treating human life like dirt'.

"Don't forget, our next plan still needs his genuine cooperation, 'Craftsman'!"

........................

Do progenitors dream?

This question is similar to whether androids dream of electric sheep.

However, Robert Guilliman does dream.

The giant awoke from the void and realized he had entered a completely new and unfamiliar realm.

The wind gently caressed his face, warm and tender, unhurried, as if soothing his weary soul.

'Is this a new trick of Chaos?' Guilliman's powerful mind raced, considering all the possibilities.

But the wind is the wind, and it does not stop according to his will, continuing to blow on its own.

The grasses, which Guilliman couldn't identify, swayed in the wind, their cilia rubbing against each other and making a rustling sound.

This was natural white noise, which involuntarily relaxed his still tense nerves.

The giant subconsciously frowned, trying to grip his weapon tightly, and then naturally discovered that his spear, his sword, and even his ever-present armor had all vanished without a trace.

He was only wearing a linen robe, which made his crotch feel cold.

The genomicon's eyebrows were raised even higher.

However, he did not succumb to his current predicament, but continued to actively gather information about his surroundings and search for useful intelligence.

The wind grew stronger, yet remained gentle, as if propelling his body forward in a certain direction.

Guilliman didn't hesitate for long. He thought for a few seconds and then moved forward in the direction the wind was blowing.

The yellowish, unidentified grasses seemed to stretch endlessly, reaching a height of over a meter, enough to reach an average person's shoulder, but only up to Guilliman's waist.

He was being pushed forward by the wind.