One day, The Emperor was discussing the unification of Terra with Malcador and the Custodes in the Imperial Palace as usual.
Suddenly, The Emperor felt a subtle psychic fluctuation.
He looked down at a floorboard at his feet; that was the location of one of the laboratories, where several weapons he had invented in his spare time were stored, along with…
Number Zero.
“Is something wrong, my Lord?” the Custodes officer who was reporting to The Emperor asked respectfully.
The Emperor said nothing; he exchanged a glance with Malcador, and in that instant, these best friends who had been together for millennia understood each other’s meaning.
“The Emperor and I have some business to attend to.
You all wait here for now.”
Malcador rose from his chair; he was the only person allowed to sit while meeting with The Emperor.
The two walked out side by side, and Malcador asked in a low voice.
“My Lord, what do you think that was?
Could it be…”
“My friend, you know that to Them, she has no meaning.”
In The Emperor’s plan, Primarch Number Zero was just a test subject, created only to ensure that the subsequent twenty-one Primarchs would not have defects—essentially a practice run.
Therefore, The Emperor did not shape Number Zero’s soul; she was merely a shell with certain instincts.
To the Chaos Gods, something without a soul isn’t even considered a thing.
So, when the Primarchs were scattered across the universe by the Warp storms, only Number Zero lay alone inside an Incubation Pod.
The two walked down the long staircase, gradually approaching the laboratory.
The Emperor suddenly froze in place, his brows furrowed.
He used his powerful psychic energy to penetrate the laboratory’s Anti-psychic Barrier and saw the scene inside.
Number Zero, who should have been lying quietly in the Incubation Pod, was curiously looking around the room, and behind her was the half-shattered Incubation Pod.
Malcador looked at The Emperor in confusion; his psychic power was not yet enough to peer inside.
The Emperor began walking again.
“My friend, do you think it is possible for a pure human soul to appear in a body where it shouldn’t belong?”
“To think such a wonderful thing could happen.” Malcador instantly understood what had occurred.
“I don’t know; matters of the soul are something that even studying the entire life of an Perpetual wouldn’t be enough to finish researching.
But my Lord, do you think this is a good or a bad thing?”
“I suppose we’ll have to make contact to find out.”
The two finally arrived at the laboratory door.
The Emperor skillfully entered a string of numbers, and the door slowly opened.
A tall and beautiful figure gradually appeared.
The girl maintained a look of surprise, looking left and right, and then she fell over, unconscious.
The Emperor, Malcador:?
…It’s over, everything’s over.
On a five-meter-wide bed, Morningstar lay with her eyes tightly shut.
Of all the places to transmigrate, I had to end up in Warhammer.
I didn’t even sign a conscription order; if I give myself a headshot now, can I still go back?
Morningstar had been awake for a long time; she just refused to open her eyes and face reality.
She thought she had gone to heaven, but this was no heaven—she had been sent to the nineteenth level of hell.
Thinking of all the absurd enemies and the ridiculous settings, Morningstar felt a surge of agitation and nearly fainted again.
“Alright, since you’re awake, get up.”
A voice rang out, not loud, yet inexplicably majestic and powerful.
Morningstar opened her eyes.
The Emperor was sitting on a chair by the bed, flipping through a book in his hand.
He wasn’t wearing armor; instead, he wore casual clothes that looked like ancient Greek attire.
“Cough, um.”
Morningstar sat up and found herself wearing similar clothes, and the back even had a few holes thoughtfully cut out for wings.
“What is your name?”
The Emperor looked up and questioned her first, his serious gaze making Morningstar feel like she was suffocating.
“Morningstar.
The ‘Yuan’ from New Year’s Day, and the ‘Xi’ from sunset,” Morningstar said obediently.
Suddenly, she realized she wasn’t speaking Chinese, but what sounded like some kind of English-like language.
How could she have possibly said ‘the Yuan from New Year’s Day’ in that!
The Emperor nodded, constantly searching through his memories.
“I see, it’s that country.
What era?”
“Uh, 2020.”
“2K, then.
Do you understand your situation?”
Morningstar shook her head.
“Malcador, take her to the library to learn more about it.”
Malcador pushed open the door and walked in.
He looked at the beautiful girl sitting there, who was almost as tall as himself even while sitting, and bowed slightly to The Emperor.
“Yes, my Lord.”
Malcador led the way quietly, and Morningstar followed behind him, looking around.
From time to time, combinations of Sisters of Silence and Custodes walked past, and they would look at Morningstar with strange expressions.
Based on her height, was she perhaps a Custodes?
But she had never heard of a Custodes having wings, and she seemed even a bit taller than the Custodes.
As for a Primarch, ha, that was impossible; she had never heard of one that looked like her, let alone a female Primarch…
Inside the library, Morningstar flipped through book after book at an incredible speed.
She basically finished a book with a single glance, yet she remembered everything with perfect clarity and could even continuously expand her thoughts.
Morningstar swore that if she had this kind of learning efficiency in her past life, a score of seven hundred and fifty wouldn’t have been nearly enough to challenge her.
Malcador sat nearby, drinking tea that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
“How is it?
You should more or less understand now.”
“Yes, more or less.” Morningstar looked up; she was now completely certain that this was the Warhammer universe.
The history of Terra and the current state of the galaxy were all sorted out by her superhuman brain in an extremely short amount of time.
“Custodian, I have only one question now.”
Malcador took a sip of tea.
“Ask.”
“Who am I?”
“You are Primarch Number Zero, The Emperor’s daughter.”
“Oh…
eh?”
Morningstar pointed at herself and asked uncertainly.
“A Primarch?
Primarch Number Zero…
me?”