Under-hive of the hive city—choked with exhaust fumes.
Liquids of every garishly brilliant color flowed everywhere like little streams, making the entire under-hive resemble some kind of dreamland kingdom.
As for the radiation alarm on Heydrich’s person—well, it was already useless.
Because the radiation reading from this place had blown straight past its upper limit; there was simply no point in using it at all.
“Good thing I’m a Pathstrider, otherwise I’d never have dared come down here.
After all, March 7th and the protagonist once ran into a cosmic storm and got blown into the depths of space at 0.4 light-seconds—that’s something even an Astartes couldn’t survive.”
Unable to keep from muttering this under his breath, Heydrich walked deeper into the under-hive.
As for just how severe the radiation was here—why, the radiation of those forge worlds could outright melt down a Tyranid swarm.
“Let’s head to the Blood Glory Gang first, see if I can stir them up a little.”
He couldn’t help but mutter this in his heart, operating on the principle of fearing the world wasn’t chaotic enough, and of getting the two sides to tear at each other like fighting dogs.
Heydrich began making his way toward the Blood Glory Gang according to the map his intel had provided, and very soon everything along the route made his brow twitch wildly.
Because as he gradually drew nearer to his destination, the road leading to the Blood Glory Gang was already covered with countless heads, each one dangling from all manner of fixtures.
And because of the super-concentrated radiation of the under-hive, ordinary maggots simply could not survive.
So this place was now studded with all kinds of bizarre ‘apples.’ Not frosting at all—rather, dazzling, iridescent growths produced by exposure to the radiation.
Even though Heydrich had braced himself mentally, he still couldn’t stop his stomach from churning over and over.
Just then, several ragged figures suddenly darted out of a scrap-metal alley up ahead.
Their skin was covered in fist-sized pustules that glowed an eerie fluorescent color under the radiation’s glare.
One of them had no eyeballs in his sockets at all—only two clumps of pink, constantly wriggling fleshy buds.
These under-hive natives could no longer be called human.
Under prolonged exposure to the dual contamination of untreated chemical waste and Warp leakage, their genetic sequences had long since undergone irreversible mutation, even forming a circadian rhythm and metabolic system utterly different from the upper-hive’s.
They could fill their bellies eating metal slag, and drink industrial wastewater that would instantly kill a healthy adult without dying—the price being a lifespan less than a third of a normal person’s.
Heydrich watched those fleshy buds stretch and probe ceaselessly through the air, looking exactly like some deep-sea tentacled creature sensing its prey.
“Where’s that guy’s core?
Don’t tell me those lunatics are just dragging people around slaughtering them everywhere…
huh?”
But it was at this moment that Heydrich suddenly froze.
Because he discovered that, off in the distance, there were eight figures clad entirely in blood-red, their bodies covered in eight-pointed stars and draped with hanging skulls.
All of it told Heydrich one thing—namely…
World Eaters.
At that very same instant, Heydrich darted behind a mountain of trash.
He wrapped himself in the power of the Path, and on top of that, this being his first time seeing Astartes, he felt only curiosity.
Just as Heydrich hid himself, that World Eater also turned its head and looked toward his position.
But very soon it withdrew its gaze, figuring it had probably just run across some under-hive creature.
After all, any creature capable of living here had to have at least a few vicious tricks up its sleeve.
“The World Eaters haven’t carried out any slaughter, and they haven’t staged any sacrifices either.
Then there’s only one possibility, and that’s…
a secret!!!”
Heydrich was pondering something at this moment—what could keep this pack of maniacs so calm?
That could only mean one thing: these World Eaters had very likely come here for some specific purpose.
In other words, there was a secret here, and in that instant it ignited Heydrich’s curiosity.
After all, if this pack of Chaos things really did discover something, it might well spell a cataclysmic disaster for this entire world.
Thinking of this, Heydrich gradually followed after them.
He simply wanted to see what exactly was here.
“So, should I blend in among them?
Let’s give it a shot—these few World Eaters won’t be able to keep me here anyway.”
After mulling it over for a little while, Heydrich chose to try drawing on the power of the Path.
This world currently had no Path at all; what Heydrich brought forth was merely a Path seed.
Every spreading branch and unfurling leaf of the seed was tied to his own actions, and it would not necessarily be exactly the same as the original Path.
“Veiling the truth in mystery, manipulating cognition, making fantasy manifest—so from the very start I shall be…
World—no, forget it, a bit unlucky.
From this moment on, I am Alpharius!!!”
As Heydrich drew upon the power of the Path, in the blink of an eye a tall, towering figure appeared.
Then that figure swiftly took on a blood-red hue, even bearing crimson runes upon it.
…..
“Great messengers of the gods, what is it?”
At this moment, a burly, towering man fully over two meters tall spoke with extraordinary fervor as he gazed at the World Eaters before him.
Of course, he had another title—Mortal Champion of Khorne, standing at the very pinnacle that a mortal could attain.
“Buried here is something the great Blood God requires.
Find it, and I shall grant you supreme glory.
Those pitiful followers of the Corpse Emperor are the offerings for you to set foot upon the Eight-fold Path of Glory.”
“Yes, my great messenger of the gods!!!”
Upon hearing these words, that Mortal Champion of Khorne—who was also the chieftain of the Blood Glory Gang—spoke with boundless excitement.
Then he silently led a crowd of people across the rivers and mountains formed by that multicolored wastewater, heading toward the very lowest region—even within the under-hive itself, the deepest of all.
At the same time he halted his steps and turned to look at the nine towering figures behind him.
“Great messengers of the gods, that thing lies just below here.
But there are vast numbers of under-hive creatures inside, and we cannot approach.
From here on we’ll need your power.”
Glancing back at those nine towering figures, the Mortal Champion of Khorne spoke with boundless excitement.
“Come with us.
The Blood God’s task demands that we transport it in secret to Holy Terra.”
Gazing at the creatures lurking in the darkness, the World Eaters’ squad leader also looked toward his brothers.
Yet for some reason, he felt that something was just a little strange—an indescribable wrongness about that place.
But at this moment he had no time at all to think, because…..
“Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne!!!”
As a furious roar rang out, a red figure charged forward like a dump truck, appearing in the Mortal Champion of Khorne’s eyes as though dropping frames.
In the blink of an eye he had taken the head off an under-hive creature, as though admiring his own trophy.
In that very instant, in the eyes of the Mortal Champion of Khorne, this great messenger of the gods was so dazzling and brimming with glory that he too could not help but roar in that moment:
“Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne!!!”
In that moment, as if some switch had been flipped, the whole pack of World Eaters together with these followers of the Blood God surged forward as though their gene of madness had been triggered.
In an instant, chaos and war filled the entire region.