People are always trapped in the problems of reality, so they have imagination.

People are always trapped in the boundaries of imagination, so there is exploration.

People are always trapped in the slowness of exploration, so there are shortcuts.

And when countless shortcuts crisscross the deep forest, rumors of misdirection and disorientation will breed, and there will be malicious creatures waiting in ambush, waiting for another arrogant and confident traveler to try to solve the real problem by taking shortcuts.

And the ultimate embodiment of this dark place is the vast ocean called [subspace] in the void.

It is born of the illusion of all things, but in turn it devours the living suffering of all things, and has achieved its terrible reputation among countless civilizations and races.

But there are always new fools who question this, who are preoccupied with the great men who are destined to break new ground, who are disdainful of the history written with the endless blood and wails of those who came before them, and who believe that they will be the ones who will overturn all history and theory all over again.

For example......

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"Don't believe in time and space, my children."

"The fundamental principles of time, space, latitude, and even geometry and numbers are ineffective in the vastness of the ocean, and it is for this reason that it is the greatest and richest repository of knowledge, for you will never really know what kind of treasure will be buried in the next cave, it may come from antiquity when the dawn of any civilization has not bloomed, or it may be a brief reproduction of a fragment of the future before your eyes."

Magnus's projection is shining, like a newborn star, bragging off its light and heat.

Like a king who had just finished receiving his courtiers and resting in the misty gardens of the palace, he casually kneaded the majestic powers and let them spread out to his left and right.

Magnus testifies to words with his own will: in the invisible scroll he unfolds, the sons of a thousand can see things they have never imagined: this perspective is like a god who looks down on the world from the clouds, and the Astartes have seen everything from the desolation to the jubilation of the air, the leaping of the waters, the breath of the living, the conception of civilization......

Running, communicating, fire, farming, family, possessions, kingship, war......

The Thousand Sons watched the growth of this overly simple alien civilization, witnessed the appearance of elegant diplomatic rhetoric and toxin-laden wine glasses, and they held their breath and felt only a mixture of incense and piety add to their breath, and then they saw the emergence of monotheistic temples and knightly kingdoms of various forms, the outbreak of wars in the name of land, faith and honor, the rise of cities and caravans, and the continuous impact of wealth on the kingdom that once belonged to dukes and bishops.

Thousands of years later, and as if only a trivial moment had passed, the eyes of the sons of Magnus were disturbed by the chaos of the future: they saw the bitter war between the natives, the reckless application of thermonuclear weapons to roll up a deadly dust; They saw a malevolent starry sky with vast fleets of invaders crushing the emerging race into slavery; They saw a thousand years later, and the distance and time across the sea of stars easily crumpled the identity of the same race into pieces.

Everything is changing, everything is burning, everything is rolling down in an unpredictable future, until it falls into the unexpected, reasonable ending.

As Magnus's palms closed, everything was gone.

"It's just a drop in the endless river, my children, there is no need to be surprised and nostalgic, in the days to come, we will encounter and observe more."

The soft laughter of the original genogen came, and he casually set aside the picture scroll of the rise and fall of a race, obviously not interested, after all, in Prospero's observatory, Magnus, who had just begun to observe the subspace, had already witnessed hundreds of the same things.

"Is this history? Father, or the future? ”

Some of the Thousand Sons couldn't suppress their curiosity, and Magnus smiled with a heartfelt smile before slowly explaining.

"Those that have been determined, without developing more choices and bifurcations, are the history that has happened, and those that cannot be determined, showing various consequences, are naturally the future, history has been determined, and the future has countless possibilities, even the most absurd of them, have their own unique underlying logic and reason for existence."

"Of course, all this is from our subjective point of view, there is no concept of time in the vast ocean, where everything is in a state of existence as long as it appears, and this state extends all the way to the time when it has not yet appeared."

"More specifically, it's like this alien civilization in front of us, from the time when the first life of this race was officially born, its existence, continuity, future and destruction have been completely existing in the subspace, but when we, the visitors of the physical universe, visit this civilization, this friendly place will codify it into a normal way according to our understanding of the concept of [time]."

"On the other hand, even if this civilization was born 5,000 years ago, since it has appeared in subspace, even 50,000 years ago tourists can still view it, but there are very few individuals with such psychic power in the long history of the galaxy."

"Of course, you can also call this power a prophecy, just like those mortals."

The explanation of the genetic prototype was trivial and slow, but it did not prevent each of the thousand sons from showing a look of fascination, after all, what could be more wonderful for an Astarte warrior than to delve into something with his own genetic father?

And just as Magnus's last words landed, he saw a glitter of psionic energy eager to speak in Morgan's place.

"That is, Lord Magnus, the alien races we just saw, their [future] fell to the last step of the space age, or entered the void, and their [now], that is, at this moment, are still thriving on their home planet, that is, in a remote corner of the galaxy that I don't know where?"

"Yes, it does."

The genogen nodded, and then he let out some kind of unspoken low laugh.

"I don't know which of my brothers they will meet in the future, it is destined to be a tragedy anyway."

As soon as these words came out, the Thousand Sons also let out a small chuckle that was clear in their hearts, and in this chuckle, they forgot everything about this nameless alien civilization and continued to explore into the depths of subspace.

——————

In the languages of some scholars and civilizations, subspace is also referred to as the vast ocean, and this has proven to be a very accurate assessment.

Anyone who has actually visited will choose to call this place so: so empty, so quiet, so vast, so bustling, so noisy, so congested......

Diametrically opposed words can be used at the same time, and that's the wonder of subspace.

Eight souls walked in the silent sea, one of them shining like a star, six as fierce as a meteorite, and the last one was like a moon hiding behind the shadows, deliberately restraining its light.

At the end of their vision, the subspace was constantly changing its colors and shapes, and suddenly cumulus clouds filled with thunder and lightning wandered in the shadows, outlining the shapes of evil beasts and minions, and in the blink of an eye, they would find that it was just a mottled dust swept by a raging storm, stretching out thousands of broken tiny realms.

But when they concentrate their energies and explore with all their true sights, they find nothing, and the subspace is nothing but desolation and dead silence, and the riches pursued by scholars and explorers are like gold at the bottom of a muddy river, requiring the most careful and sophisticated pickets and a little luck.

The Protogens didn't care about these things that he had already taken for granted, the Lord of Prospero held aloft a lighthouse condensed by pure psionic powers, shining on an unimaginably vast world, he was not at all worried that this action would attract the ancient inhabitants of the vast ocean, in fact, he was looking forward to their appearance, after all, the new thesis topic needed more arguments.

And it was at this time that those distant, intermittent ballads appeared.

It was the strangest of sounds, like the wailing of a thousand ravens when they were stuck in their throats, or like the neighing of a huge snake's nest when it was blown to pieces, and the tone of the ballad was indistinct, but it bit every word clearly, and when it reached everyone's ears, it was a completely different content, a small poem about the past and the future.

Morgan could hear Ahriman whispering verses about the future and the vineyards, or Atava being there nostalgic for the old days of Terra.

But when she leaned over her slender neck and listened carefully to her songs, she heard something different.

——————

"Arrogance, self-restraint like poison."

"Thirsty at midnight, god slave prostrate."

"Prison trapped beasts, heaven-given heroes."

"The eagle lies on the ground, and the fox devours the tiger."

"The yin is obscure, and the stone is lonely."

"The evil flame is burning, and the emperor is ancient."

"But see ......"

"Ambitious, crying at the end."

"Snake robe and green armor, towards Qin Dusk."

"Black ink is the surface, and the heart is like a pearl."

"Steel-hearted and iron-blooded, it is difficult to escape rust and rot."

"Flying wolf steed, running away."

"The crown falls to the ground, and the bell has no owner."

"Finally ...... Dance of the blood of all nations. ”

"Finally ...... Brothers slaughtered each other. ”

"Finally ...... The galaxy overturned. ”