They still exist.

It existed in her heart, in the deepest part of the sea of her soul, where all her wild ambitions and dreams could not be avoided.

When Morgan opened her third eye for the first time in a long time, she was once again back in the realm of her mind: the most important territory of her life that had not belonged to her in the first place.

Actually, Morgan wasn't very happy to come back here, and she didn't always remember everything in detail, preferring to summon the spirits when she needed them.

There's a reason for that.

Compared with a decade ago, there was hardly any change in these years, and when Morgan looked at it, there was nothing new or new that made her feel new, surprised, or wary of it.

Time doesn't mean anything here.

The sky was still pure black, a kind of black that had no life or luster, the most decaying and obscure, like a bottle of ink that had been knocked over the ground and dried up into layers of disgusting tenacious dirt of human beings, even if it was washed again and again, it could not erase their existence at all.

Under such a dome, everything in Morgan's mind was shrouded in a lingering shadow.

Swords, courts, and minarets, they still stand, each with its own as the center of the ever-changing kingdom, the golden, deep purple and indigo light constantly infecting the already filthy sky, in the endless void for an eternal battle, for who will be used by the most vicious and selfish individual in the galaxy at some point in the future, when fate begins the final act.

Morgan raised his head and looked at the will that did not belong to her was deciding her fate, the changing thousands of colors were intermingled all the time, at first glance, there was a wonderful feeling of colorful, but when you really calmed down and looked closely, you would only find that these seemingly dreamy colors became more and more disgusting, distorted, and hideous with the deepening of observation, as if all the evils in the world were in that light, all of them appeared.

The longer they look, the more confused, lost, and eager to explore more of these terrible places that should be intimidating, and only the calmest of characters will be able to break free from this silent bewitchment in time, and when they come to their senses and look at the dreamy sky again, they will only see the most chilling truth in the world.

Morgan looked up at the filthy starry sky in her mind, watched it quietly for a few seconds, and then lowered her head, no matter what happened.

Even the collision and battle of the power of destruction itself was nothing to shock her now, she knew that what existed in her heart was only a fragment of those supreme wills, and their struggle was just a fate that could never escape from each other.

The silver-haired Spider Lady had heard the Iron Warriors discuss: Perturabo, the genetic prototype of the Fourth Legion, could see or perceive the Eye of Fear all the time from the moment he had his own consciousness, and because of this, the starry sky in the Iron Lord's eyes was different from anyone else in the galaxy.

But those who discuss these anecdotes will never know that what is happening in Morgan's mind is far more terrible than all that Perturabo sees as existing.

The three gods, or the will of the gods, erupted in her mind in an eternal battle, the intensity of which may have been high and low, but it never stopped, especially the battle between the Lord of Change and the Hungry Lady, which almost never ended.

Every time they collide again, the sky will scatter countless fragments, which record complex schemes, distorted history, and blasphemous rituals that even the progenitor cannot understand in the first place, and if Morgan does not clean it up in time, they will even begin to affect the progenitor itself's sobriety.

Whenever Morgan began to think, whenever she calmed down and examined and reflected on what she had done, she had to enter her inner world, to face the never-ending struggle, to be reduced to a wretched creature of silence and humility in the face of three great wills that she could not resist.

Even for the most seasoned navigator, crossing the subspace is a dangerous adventure, but for Morgan, almost every time she thinks, she faces the ups and downs that are not inferior to the most violent parts of the subspace.

The Eye of Fear, in Perturabo's pupils.

The Eye of Fear is also in Lady Spider's heart.

Thousands of kingdoms rose and collapsed before her eyes, blasphemy and crime unimaginable to all the minds of the world together came alive before her, and she watched as tens of millions of loyals, betrayals, blasphemy, distortions, lusts, and rages transformed into an unrepeatable drama in the vision of her third eye, telling her over and over again the majesty of the universe and time.

They even take into account her mental capacity: there are not too many profane fragments in front of her every time, ensuring that she is not overwhelmed by these horrible sights.

The will represented by the three rays of light all acquiesced in this decision, silently watching Morgan tremble again and again in front of the vivid images of the most terrible atrocities in the world, with the slight difference: the blue and purple light would only emit a continuous, most shrill laugh in her agony, as if waiting for the lovely prey to step into the trap, and occasionally they would even whisper some low whispers that enveloped her will.

But gold doesn't, never had.

He would always be silent, he would only watch her quietly, he would neither save nor further oppression, he would just quietly witness her struggle.

Waiting for her choice.

She even had to periodically erase some of her disgusting memories to keep her mind from being affected: the way of depravity and torture in the memories of the spirits she had eaten even paled in the face of what she had witnessed.

You know, some of the aliens she enjoyed had even experienced the glorious Eternal Dynasty that had been, and were guests of honour on all sorts of extravagant occasions in the Comoros, and some of the [knowledge] in their minds even sent chills down the bones of Morgan who watched it for the first time.

But that's all in the past.

Now, after more than twenty years of baptism and repetition, even the craziest Blood Men in the Comoros cannot make even the slightest ripple in Lady Spider's heart with their dark performances, and the rudimentary filth and darkness in the hearts of the world are no different from the mud in the hands of a urchin in Morgan's eyes.

Compared to those that symbolize the profane and distorted nature, what intelligent life can come up with is too gentle after all.

Even, when Morgan wanted to pass the time between the Randan Wars, she would occasionally watch the most depraved fragments of these alien memories in silence, and regarded it as an indifferent pastime.

For the genetic prototype, more than 20 years are enough time for her to feel familiar with everything.

And those intermittent horrific sights that appeared in front of her eyes slowly decreased in frequency until she devoured part of Magnus's soul and strengthened her will like never before, but they still existed.

She was even glad that for a long time, she didn't have any feedback on the so-called emotions at all, which allowed her to successfully survive many tests.

For Morgan, this kind of inner instinct naturally has an effect: whether Lady Spider wants to admit it or not, she has to face a real problem: it is a very distressing thing to be reduced to a second seat next to her in her own mental world, and every time Morgan powerlessly witnesses the fragments of the battle, a different kind of anger will accumulate in her heart.

Occasionally, she would think that she needed a means of venting, a means of venting her grievances that would not let her get too addicted.

She was thinking about this and kept trying.

With this in mind, Morgan kept moving forward in her inner world where there was no light to speak of, and the only sight on the road was the wandering souls, and she had been trying her best to control their numbers, always ensuring the only power she had left.

Souls, countless souls, most of them are from all kinds of blasphemous aliens, the ten years of fierce battles on the front line of the Randan War have greatly filled Morgan's mind with the number of warehouses, and every bloody battle on the front line is a good harvest for her.

Even, her only concern was that there were so many souls that she couldn't maintain the necessary balance in her mind: every time she harvested, Lady Spider always wanted to eat more, which was the most simple and insurmountable greed, and the consequence of this greed was that every time she cleaned up the number of souls in her brain, she couldn't help but want to strangle herself who had eaten so much before.

Consuming them became a necessary science, and Morgan understood how important it was to give what was necessary, and therefore how greedy she was in reaping her souls and how generous she was in using them.

And it is this generosity that has made the name of the [Soul Drinker] in the Randan War.

In the eyes of outsiders, as a top-notch psyker, Lady Spider's various performances are exaggerated compared to her earth-shattering colleagues, who are always whispering in private how Morgan's continuous and powerful moves in the past wars are unleashed.

And the answer is simple.

Soul.

Hundreds of souls are enough to sustain an unimaginable hurricane and turn the tide of a battlefield in an instant.

The wails of thousands of souls were enough to set off an invisible wave that wiped out the fortresses that were embedded with the mountains themselves from the map.

But for Morgan, her own strength was enough to do this, so she never disdained to burn those souls to do these things.

She will only devote her soul to those big scenes.

Tens of thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, and even more souls, when they were mercilessly pulled out of her mind at the same moment, and then ignited in unison, the power and grief of their destruction were enough to sustain Morgan to perform the most exaggerated spells in an instant, pinching the fate of entire worlds and galaxies in his slender fingers.

For example, the huge storm evoked by Morgan during the Battle of Drune, the destruction that was enough to sweep the entire continent, it was Morgan who burned countless souls in her mind, and the migration disaster created, in normal times, with the power of Lady Spider, it can indeed evoke such a will to destroy, but it will definitely not come and go like this.

In the war with Randan, Morgan evoked countless miracles, and behind him were countless alien wailing souls, and for Morgan, every soul burning was a good deal: such a loss could not only consume those souls that were not precious enough, but also harvest more loot as he wanted after another victory of the Dark Angel.

In this abundance, she even developed the habit of collecting, and some interesting or unique alien souls were temporarily kept by her: this behavior seemed to come from her genes, and when Lady Spider thought of words like "collect" and "keep", she accepted these new habits very smoothly.

And in her soul realm, there are some precious alien souls who have been tamed by her, and at least on the surface, are willing to become her collection.

Even a scholar of Ark Ada, who looked unusually old, apparently possessed far better composure than her kind, for when Morgan showed it how wild her inner world was, it did not collapse in the first place, but on the contrary, in the fear of the deep purple light that was a nightmare for every elf, it trembled and offered an exchange to Lady Spider.

——————

"Plunder doesn't get everything...... Mankind. ”

"What is plundered is always incomplete, unable to show its original appearance, wisdom and deep meaning, what you see is only one broken fragment after another, you can use it to train yourself, but if you want to learn more, what you need is the inheritance of words."

"Some wisdom can only exist in the expression and communication between each other, it cannot be captured by any words and memories, because all records are subjective, that is, there are distortions and changes."

"And I'll tell you what these things are."

——————

Morgan agreed to the exchange.

She even allowed the alien soul to stay at the safest of valleys.

And now, it's time for her to reap the rewards of the deal.

Lady Spider had made her way to the most reassuring part of these gloomy realms, where many of her goodies were placed: precious soul collectibles, and the things she feared the most.

She walked here and grabbed the soul of the Spirit Clan with her hands.

[It's time.] 】

She looked at the silent, even somewhat rickety alien in front of her, and there was not a trace of compassion in her voice.

[I have something to ask you. 】

“…… Please ......"

Morgan's eyes narrowed, and some of the confusion in her heart was spat out by her: when she heard about the strange things on the front line of Randan, such as those [forbidden army] and golden figures, a bold speculation was initially formed in her mind.

【You...... Do you know the emperor? 】

[I wonder if Ran Dan, a rising star who is capable of competing for hegemony with mankind, also has its own ...... in a sense]

["Emperor"? 】

[Or, the emperor is not the only one, right?] 】

Such a question caused the alien in front of Morgan to be silent for a long time, until Lady Spider began to furrow her sharp brow in displeasure, and some psionic tremors appeared unconsciously around her, and the rickety alien finally found those memories of other races from his own memory.

"It depends on how you interpret it."

"If the Emperor in your mouth is a character like your creator, then I can tell you."

"Yes."

"Those civilizations that are strong enough, expanded enough, and ambitious enough, will have the possibility of having their own [emperor]."

"Or rather, [the Emperor] is not the only one."

"But your emperor is unique."

This [emperor] question involves some of the author's private settings, it won't be exaggerated, and I will make it clear in the next one.

(End of chapter)