Chapter 11: The Spirit Race

Warhammer: Crise Apocalíptica desde o Início O pequeno dragão negro suicida 3436 words 2026-08-04 05:25:52

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Chapter 11: The Aeldari

In a sense, a thought imprint was nothing less than a dark technology. Through mechanical means, it could make people hold fast to a particular belief.

The human brain was a wondrous thing. Different regions were governed by different groups of neurons.

There were even specialized neural regions responsible for judging right and wrong.

Take the proposition that water was poisonous.

To determine whether water was poisonous, one had to examine numerous factors: What kind of water was it? What did it contain? The process by which the mind reached a conclusion was extraordinarily complex.

A thought imprint, however, could bypass that entire process and produce an answer directly. When certain information entered the brain, influencing a specific portion of the neural network could cause the brain to accept that information as true without any conscious thought.

In other words, once the thought imprint that “water is poisonous” had been implanted in someone’s mind, that person would truly regard all water as poison.

Given the complexity of the Imperium and the peculiar nature of his own identity, Guilliman had decided to employ this technology.

He had no choice. He could only stand firmly on humanity’s side.

The Emperor also stood on humanity’s side, but that did not necessarily mean he would stand on Guilliman’s.

A time traveler, and one possessed of a cheat besides.

Once the Emperor decided Guilliman was an enemy who might pose a threat to humanity, there was no telling whether he would simply dispose of him.

And then Guilliman would be on Terra, captured on the spot. Wouldn’t that be the end of him?

Those Custodes shut-ins had an extraordinary grudge against the primarchs. With a single order from the Emperor, they could kill Guilliman in a matter of minutes.

There were also the conservatives and hardliners. In the original course of events, they had been deeply dissatisfied with the resurrected Guilliman’s alterations to the Emperor’s institutions, his reforms of the Imperium’s bloated structure, and his many other measures. Some had even rebelled outright, refusing to obey Terra’s commands any longer.

All of them were potential threats.

And beyond those threats, there was the problem of Chaos and its invasion—an issue that was exceptionally difficult to handle.

He could hardly create weapons only for traitors to seize them and turn them against humanity itself!

That would be truly disastrous.

Guilliman needed a trump card. He would imprint these new recruits with an unwavering hatred of Chaos and everything connected to it. At the same time, he would ensure that his authority took precedence over the Emperor’s.

That way, even if the Emperor turned against him, Guilliman would at least be able to escape unharmed instead of being doomed on Terra.

Cawl stared at Guilliman’s smiling face, and even his rapidly processing intelligence core seemed to freeze for a moment.

He had already read the contents of the data storage device, so he naturally understood what a thought imprint was.

“Lord Regent, this thought-imprinting technology…”

Confusion colored Cawl’s voice. Was such a technology truly meant to be used?

“You know the current state of the Imperium, Cawl. We have nowhere left to retreat. The Imperium has endured for ten thousand years, yet it continues to lose ground against Chaos and grow steadily weaker. Its condition is even worse than during the Great Crusade of old. How are we supposed to face a war that grows more terrifying by the day? Given enough time, humanity will inevitably be destroyed by Chaos.”

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“In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures are necessary. We need an army that is absolutely loyal to humanity and to the Imperium—an army that can be relied upon and that will obey our commands and follow our will without question. You have witnessed the corruption of Terra’s bureaucracy and the rigidity of the Mechanicus. If we do not change, do you truly believe we can defeat the terrifying forces of Chaos?”

Guilliman had no intention of revealing the calculations hidden in his heart. For now, he would simply persuade Cawl.

Cawl’s brow furrowed slightly, strange lights flickering in his mechanical eyes. After a moment, he reached his decision.

“I shall fulfill your instructions, Lord Regent.”

Cawl bowed, the mechanical hum of his systems accompanying the motion.

Guilliman smiled.

“Excellent. Go, then, and complete the task I have assigned you. I want to see this army as soon as possible. I need it to stabilize the Imperium’s current disorder.”

After concluding his conversation with the Archmagos Cawl, Guilliman summoned the leaders of the Reaper host, Yvraine and the Visarch, intending to speak with them face-to-face.

The Imperium had never been fond of aliens, and the people of Ultramar would not trust aliens operating within their worlds either.

Before leading his forces out to purge the remnants of Chaos scattered throughout the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, he had to settle the matter of this alien army known as the Reaper host.

The Reaper host was not an Imperial formation. It was an army belonging to the ancient alien race known as the Aeldari.

For reasons of their own, they had chosen to aid Cawl, Celestine, and the others in resurrecting Guilliman.

They had played a major role in bringing him back to life. Guilliman could not simply kill them outright; doing so would be a little too ungrateful.

The Aeldari were slender, their appearance much like that of humans, save for their ears, which were remarkably pointed.

They were extraordinarily beautiful, possessing an otherworldly quality that humanity could never quite imitate.

Yvraine and the Visarch entered through the main doors and bowed slightly.

It was a gesture of respect toward the Imperial Regent.

Guilliman studied the two of them. Even in an age obsessed with beauty, he had to admit that the Aeldari were indeed striking.

Their waists were absurdly slender. Guilliman seriously doubted whether their bodies could bear the weight of the armor they wore.

“No need for formalities. Speak to me directly. I have many mysteries that require your answers.”

Guilliman motioned for them to straighten and fixed his gaze upon them.

It was worth noting that the Aeldari had been a major factor in the birth of Slaanesh, one of the four Ruinous Powers of Chaos.

The Aeldari were an ancient race, said to have taken part in the War in Heaven.

During that war, their creators were destroyed, while their enemies, the Necrons, entered hibernation.

The Aeldari claimed dominion over the galaxy and entered the height of their civilization.

But amid their prosperity, they gradually descended into corruption, sinking into an abyss of endless desire.

Their entire race became lost in a sea of pleasure, indulging themselves without restraint.

Their decadent thoughts and souls churned through the immaterium, creating a tremendous echo that awakened and nourished some ancient and terrifying entity.

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The birth of Slaanesh unleashed an appalling storm of souls, causing the vast Aeldari Empire to collapse outright.

The real universe itself was torn apart by the newborn god’s shriek, forming the Eye of Terror, which pierced both the immaterium and the material world.

Countless Aeldari had their life force and psychic power drained from them, leaving them as nothing more than sustenance for Slaanesh.

Even the gods once worshiped by the Aeldari were imperiled by the catastrophe. Some were destroyed; others were imprisoned.

Only those Aeldari who possessed the foresight to avoid participating in their society’s descent, along with those who had fled in advance into special spatial nodes and the webway cities, managed to survive.

The souls of the Aeldari were constantly watched by Slaanesh. The moment one of them died, their soul would fall into Slaanesh’s hands, where it would be tormented and rendered into part of the god’s nourishment. Their entire race existed on the brink of annihilation.

Nevertheless, their technology and psychic power remained formidable, making them a force in the galaxy that could not be underestimated.

The Reaper host led by Yvraine and the Visarch had helped Cawl and the others escape pursuit by the forces of Chaos on the Cadian front. They had fled the battlefield and successfully reached Macragge.

“The stars have been torn apart, and the most terrible disaster the life of the galaxy has ever faced is about to arrive. Once the power of Chaos breaks free of the immaterium, the galaxy will enter its final days. We are fortunate that our two races have formed an alliance to resist this crisis together.”

Guilliman nodded. “I too am pleased by this alliance. It is an immense honor for the Imperium to receive your aid.”

“We are about to depart, but there is something I must warn you of. Cawl’s technology is indeed powerful, and it has healed your body, but your true wounds lie at the level of the soul. The reason you are able to walk among the living at all is the power of the Reaper. If you value your life, you must never remove your armor from this day onward. You need not worry. This armor is far sturdier than you can imagine.”

“I have no desire to discuss this matter in detail, still less to investigate what lies behind the power that awakened me. But I must offer you a warning all the same. If you desire the friendship of humanity, you must treat us with sincerity. Any underhanded schemes will only erode humanity’s mercy and trust toward you. I do not wish for the day to come when we meet again only to draw our blades against one another on the battlefield.”

Guilliman smiled faintly. He had no desire to investigate the matter. He had been resurrected, and whatever plans the Aeldari might have harbored for him no longer mattered.

With the database and the command template at his disposal, he could deal with anything easily enough.

He merely wanted to warn Yvraine. If the Reaper host chose to play games, they would certainly regret it in the future.

Though they had saved his life, if forced to choose between his own survival and humanity’s existence, Guilliman would not hesitate in the slightest to draw his sword against the Aeldari.

“We shall remember your warning. I hope that when we meet again, we will still be friends rather than enemies.”

After offering a formal bow, Yvraine turned and left.

“Then let us leave matters there. Finally, I wish you victory in your endeavors. Give our common enemy a lesson it will not forget.”

“And I wish you fortune in war, Roboute Guilliman,” Yvraine said. “The gods’ eyes, along with those of your traitorous brothers, are already fixed upon you. Do your utmost to survive.”

With that, she turned and walked out. The Visarch, who had not spoken a word, gave the primarch a warrior’s salute before following her from the room.

Guilliman frowned, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.

This universe was filled with monsters!

Every one of them was a calculating schemer. None of them were easy to fool!

Having settled the matter of the Aeldari, Guilliman pressed the communicator.

“Let the planetary governors and merchant princes who have been waiting outside come in. There is something I need to tell them.”

End of Chapter