【……】

[Blood...]

The ancient words of Upper Gothic awakened the genoplasms that had been sleeping in the culture pod, but the encroachment of the waves of subspace had almost washed away her sense of self, and the scenes of severe pain and psychedelia continued to emerge before her eyes, and the whispers of sunken sulfur and blood made it difficult for her to sleep.

The consciousness of the newborn deity is not yet awake, but under the influence of subjective memories of the past... What was in front of her was not what she was familiar with.

The once tidy room was replaced by a dark and damp cabin, and the unconscious whispering became a childish unfamiliar voice, and the warm bedding that should be covered with the body was replaced by a wet and sticky soaking feeling.

She woke up.

The girl struggled to open her golden eyes, but there was only a series of unintelligible words in front of her.

[This is...? 】

The young genogen struggled to get up, only to find that its petite body, which was not its own, was soaked in a sticky, warm liquid.

Everything in front of her was beyond her comprehension, and endless questions came to her mind one by one.

[I... Who is it...? 】

[I... Where is it...? 】

The almost shattered consciousness gradually integrates under the developed logic of thinking, and the genetic prototype whose soul is as pure as a blank sheet of paper raises questions.

The instinct of the genogen quickly integrated all the information around her, but her unclear sense of self was overwhelmed by an indescribable sense of exhaustion.

Before she could think about it, drowsiness hit her in the next moment.

The girl's sleepy eyes gradually closed, but her vision was no longer dim.

Her blurred consciousness gradually became clearer, and the more dazzling golden glow was leading the soul of the genetic prototype, like a skilled traveler and apprentice, constantly cruising in the sea of mind.

In the blink of an eye, she seemed to be in a dilapidated library, with faint candles flickering on several quaint bookshelves.

On the dusty shelves, the genogen barely read the title on the spine.

Warhammer 40K

Suddenly, an inexplicable sharp pain suddenly made the girl's brows furrow.

The cracking pain from the giant axe instantly left a scar on her soul, and the consciousness swimming in the sea of souls couldn't help but look up at the scarlet sky.

It was a giant axe far greater than the sky, and the slightest glance at it would make you feel intimidated by its sharpness and blood.

The true name of a destructive power suddenly appeared in her mind.

Fear...

In an instant, an unbearable pain as if the brain had been ripped out alive was poured into the soul. It's as if there are endless hideous nails in the brain that are constantly sinking into it... The pain that almost tortured the consciousness and soul of the newborn genoplasm to the point of collapse roared wildly in her brain.

Painful moans were slowly squeezed out of her throat, and her petite figure trembled and curled, beads of sweat continued to slide down her forehead, and the girl's immature face was tormented by the sharp pain of unknown origin.

The pain from her soul made the girl stop trying to call the destroyer's true name, and her hoarse wheezing voice revealed endless exhaustion and remorse.

"What's going on..."

Doubts surfaced again, and the girl murmured.

The disintegrated consciousness of the original genogenital has gradually awakened, and the endless knowledge has poured into the mind, and all kinds of activities about speech, language, walking, running, and even fighting are learned in an instant with the help of the indescribably powerful genetic sequence of the original genotype.

It's just that the self-consciousness of the original gene seems to have been washed away, and the part about the name has long been cut away.

Like the sharp pain that Fang Cai has been hard to forget, there is no answer.

When consciousness gradually faded away from the harbor of the mind, the girl's vision blurred by sweat also returned to light, and the scene of the sea of the mind disappeared like an illusory curtain, and there was only a dark and damp cultivation cabin in the field of vision.

More than 78% of the reports of High Gothic were presented to her, and she didn't even know why she could read the obscure words.

In the face of countless complex and treacherous memories and realities, the ability of the genetic prototype to quickly integrate and consult is also slightly dwarfed, so despite the endless flow of information in the brain and the integration of most of the information known as quickly as possible, the girl still feels confused, and asks her consciousness and soul a huge number of questions like the sands of the Ganges.

Countless questions born out of thin air appeared and disappeared in an instant, and the unbearable void in her mind was suddenly filled with knowledge of unknown origin, even beyond the scope of the girl's cognition.

The superhuman brain derived from the genetic prototype instantly analyzed most of the data, and the endless confusion was also solved by the filtered and analyzed data.

She... Seems to know who he is.

A bland and meaningless past came to her eyes. In this clear memory of the past, I have been immersed in a dull life for decades, and I have a few hobbies in table chess... And that hobby had the same name as the ancient books she had seen in her vision.

[Warhammer 40k]

She flipped it open, but didn't notice a pale blue feather between the books.

In the next moment, a large amount of clear and complex knowledge was poured into the brain of the young genetic protogen, and most of the doubts were answered in an instant.

If I had to sum it up, it would be:

She... Enter the Warhammer 40k world full of war and darkness.

A space opera universe full of gothic and desperate stories.

The horrific and shocking truth lies before the eyes of the nascent genoplasm.

The girl, who was still a little sleepy and confused, was immediately stunned, and gradually awakened her consciousness integrated the knowledge she knew, and this knowledge had turned into a curse on the soul.

Despite the humid and warm environment of the nurturing chamber, an indescribable chill spread down her spine, a tidal wave of despair engulfed.

The newborn god stared blankly at his small, young and powerful hands.

On it, she sensed the power of the easily shredded matter. However, the flame of courage flickered for a moment, and it was crushed by the despair contained in knowledge.

"It can't be true... It can't be true..."

The girl muttered to herself, trying to deceive herself, closing her eyes and praying repeatedly.

However, even if she opened her eyes again, the familiar warm bedroom in her old memory did not appear in front of her eyes.

There is only the harsh reality.

She's really here... Warhammer 40k world.

……

In an instant, the girl wanted to hit her head to death immediately.

Even though her transcendent body is difficult to be harmed at will.

But the little heart is gradually being soaked in the curse of knowledge.

Not for any other reason, just because of her status as a former fan of Warhammer 40k.

She knew that if she was unfortunate enough to cross into such a world, death would be the best way to get rid of it.

How to describe the feeling of despair that was too heavy...

For this cruel and dark universe, any symbolic resistance is too weak and powerless, and any brave struggle will become the most heroic end of the tragedy.

Seriously, if it's an ordinary civilian, you can still return to the Golden Throne if you commit suicide... But if you happen to be one of the unlucky ones in the Warhammer story, or if you are unfortunate enough to encounter some tragedy like the Dark Elveon, the Chaos Corruption, etc., even being freed from endless pain is a luxury... Even in the nest capital, where the vast majority of civilians live, there are countless dangers.

As soon as she thought of this, cold sweat instantly covered the girl's back.

The sharp pain in her soul from the blood-red axe seemed to be connected to the destructive power she remembered sitting on the brass throne.

Myself... You can't be targeted by the blood god, right...?

Uneasy thoughts collided violently in her brain, and the interweaving of thoughts and knowledge seemed to be leading the situation in a bad direction, and panic continued to appear in her trembling gilded eyes.

It stands to reason that the bloodthirsty god of the subspace would not have set his sights on weak mortals, unless it was a valiant warrior or a genogen he liked...

Thinking of this, the young Genoplasm looked at the Roman numeral XII engraved on the adamantite chamber...

She... It's really become a genetic prototype targeted by the blood god.

[Genoplasma, Angron, War Dog, World Eater, Butcher's Nail, Great Expedition...]

Like Murphy's Law, the last thing she wanted to happen happened. In an instant, several familiar words pulsed in the girl's brain, the curse in the ocean of knowledge became more and more intense, and the more panicked thoughts continued to burst out in the developed thoughts of the young genetic protoplasm, just a moment, but to her thinking and nerves, it seemed like a world away.

However, the near-death pain was like a steel nail drilling into the brain... It's still vivid.

Looking at the surroundings that fit Angelon's story one by one, the girl tries to hypnotize herself, and everything in front of her is not real.

However, the painful memory seemed to turn into a steel nail in her brain that could not be removed, gradually dismantling and tearing apart the fantasy that had been gradually constructed, and when she clearly saw the golden eagle symbol of the human empire in the cabin, the futile fantasy was completely shattered by the reality in front of her.

The cruel reality is in front of this young genetic prototype, and her identity is undoubtedly the twelfth great creation of the human emperor - genetic prototype Anglon.

Yes, in the distant future, the genetic protoplasm saddled with a sad fate.

In an instant, strong emotions burst out at this moment, and endless despair and sorrow lingered in the girl's heart in an instant.

In her originally calm and indifferent sea of mind, a wisp of dark blue feathers suddenly floated by, stained with dust from the library.

……

After learning his identity, the newborn gene protoplasm instantly knew the end of this fate.

That is, even if they inherit the power of the Lord of Mankind, they will still be reduced to the slaves of the chains in the hands of others in endless pain and suffering, and they will perish forever.

Looking at her immature little hands, the girl felt incomprehensible why she would bear this destined tragedy.

Even though she knew her identity, although she could not compare herself with the armored giant man with the chainsaw axe in her memory, the knowledge and reason from her memory clearly told her that the fate she was about to usher in would also be a tragic tragedy.

Thoughts for no reason were born in an instant, and suicidal thoughts quickly took over the high ground of thinking.

Reason curbed the girl's chaotic thoughts in that moment, and she remembered the gaze from the blood god... and painstaking and unforgettable pain and torment.

Even though she doesn't want to be a genogen who commits suicide by the cause of death... But a deep sense of despair still haunted her.

The girl pondered in frustration any possible way to escape the Blood God's clutches.

For example... Spin in place seven times, pray seven times, praise your loving father seven times, and then commit suicide?

Of course, it can't be.

Just another nasty joke about the cruel world of Warhammer.

In this grimdark universe, if you look to Him for liberation... It is more likely that he will fall into the eternal torment of a loving father.

As a former reader and player, the girl once imagined that if she came to Warhammer 40k, a space opera story full of darkness and blood and tears... The best outcome is to be swept away by the ubiquitous flames of war, and simply die neatly under a bullet or a rusty dagger.

… And there is a high probability that he will cry like a fart who has been stepped on his toes.

Now, she was so scared of the hopeless future that she almost cried.

Even if she knew the identity of her genetic protogen, it still couldn't completely calm the cowardice in the girl's heart.

In the dark universe of Warhammer 40k, even the genetic prototypes are not immune.

She will be Angelon, she will be Nukeria's slave.

As a genetic prototype favored by the blood god, Angelon's life will be a life of involuntarily.

Even if it is as strong as a genetic prototype, it will become a toy in the palm of the evil god entrenched in subspace... What's more, you have a lot of future memories in your head?

……

In the more complex and careful thinking, the light blue mist wrapped the bird feathers, silently enveloping the sea of minds of the newborn genetic primordial.

Even though the power she inherited from the Lord of Humanity would make her future achievements unparalleled, the sheer sheer emotion and the complex nature of her subspace would not let her go.

Cowardice and panic continue to breed in the girl's psychic defenses, and the corrosion from chaos silently follows.

She was oblivious to all this, as if this was the comedy that the Chaos Gods wanted to see—mortals cursed by knowledge, even though they were endowed with divine powers by the Lord of Mankind himself, were driven to even greater tragedy by that pathetic and comical cowardice.

She's still thinking. Thinking about the picture of the future, the ability to think is countless times stronger than that of mortals, so that her deduction and imagination of the future picture are almost as real as images.

However, the whispers of subspace lead to the end of all images to inevitable destruction and tragedy.

Endless tragedy stains the immature and pure soul, countless sighs and tears emerge in the sentimental subspace essence, it seems that all beautiful imaginations will be interrupted by the tragedy without a source, and the newborn gene is not aware that this comes from the corrosion of chaos, and the pride from the identity of the gene origin makes her former mortal memories gradually blur.

Everything is as they imagined, in the thirtieth millennium... The race known as 'Humans' has always been so arrogant and ignorant that it has never thought deeply about the dangers that come with unprovoked disappearances.

It is also like one of the lessons that mankind learned in the distant future, in the fortieth millennium: to think too much and be suspicious.

Soon, the first projections of the future were interrupted by the swift and developed thoughts, and a dark and hopeless vision enveloped her tired mind, and the cursed knowledge did not give the Genogen the answers it wanted.

As a result, despair began to appear in her heart.

And this strong affection further fueled their invasion and corruption.

In this tragic and dark universe, all the stubborn resistance to the future is, in the vast majority of cases, nothing more than impotent rage.

The girl was not a saint born like St. Giles, nor was she a maniac with the power of action like Conrad Coetze, for the cowardice of mortals. The ability to flip through the future has been a curse throughout.

In a way, the girl is just an ordinary soul endowed with the divine powers of the original genogen.

Her identity and value are precious—to the value of a 'plaything' in the eyes of the evil gods.

……

……

Precious time is constantly passing, and on the snow-capped mountains of Nukeria, the cultivation chamber belonging to the genetic prototype is also frozen in ice and snow.

Even though the original girl huddled in it was relying on her swaddling clothes, there was only a darkness made of despair before her.

The flickering siren lights symbolized that the safety of the incubator would not last long, as did the trembling soul that shrouded in a dark cloud of unease.

Even the tenacious thinking of the genetic prototype cannot resist the despair brought about by thousands of tragic images, just like the essence of knowledge, curse.

Unaware of the corruption caused by strong emotions, the girl curled up in the wet nurturing barn, and the courage gained in exchange for a new life as a human god was constantly eliminating.

The blazing flame in the sea of the mind that was delusional to change everything was also extinguished in the pale green rain, until the flickering fragile flame was completely extinguished in despair and numbness.

Tenacity and cowardice are gradually intertwined, and the thoughts and prospects for the future almost crush this once ordinary human genoplasm girl - there is no hope in it, only endless shackles and shackles that need to be broken off, and the involuntary melancholy in the face of the tragic story from the former reader.

All possible futures unfold before her eyes, the Spirits, the Colosseum, the Butcher's Nail, the World Eater, the Great Horus Rebellion, and the Ascension.

The tragedy that belonged to Angelon could be strung together in just a few words, swept towards her like the inescapable fate of Sisyphus, more violent than a tsunami, hotter than lava, a psychic empathetic psionic talent that belonged to the genetic prototype made even the howling blizzard colder, but the girl curled up in complete oblivion, contemplating in her mind a dark future that her fragile mind could barely face.

And the bottom of the girl's heart, which has been covered by the light blue mist, has only a cowardly and small wish.

[How the hell am I going to live...]

Her will and courage were utterly shattered by silent corrosion, and the curse of knowledge and genetic identity was too much for the carefree minds of the mortals of the past to bear, and all the future presented her with such a sad vision.

In the midst of endless tragedy and despair, only her innate training pod remained warm.

However, the gears of fate never stopped spinning, but slowly moved forward before her eyes, merging into a complex and desperate complexity.

The over-damaged pod wouldn't shelter her for long.

As the energy source continued to decrease, the Void Shield, which had always sheltered the cultivation pod, finally stopped.

The gears of fate, which symbolize slow travel, have finally begun to run at high speed.

The genoplasm, which was supposed to grow rapidly in these few years of Terra, has always been limited in size and development by the constraints of the mind.

The pale blue mist that once shrouded the sea of minds has created an endless deep blue storm, and the dark green acid cloud that is so thick that it can barely be dispersed is also condensing corrupt raindrops, and the sharp pain of the butcher's nail that keeps piercing her brain from the crimson corrosive illusion makes her struggle unbearable, and the whispers of joy that longs for relief continue to tempt her ears to fall into the purple abyss, and the petite cowardice of the existence of the petite cowardice is constantly swaying in the tsunami of the soul in the laughter of the four gods, as if it will be broken apart at any time.

No one knows how long the girl had been thinking, perhaps the prying eyes of the evil god had completely deprived her of her right to fear, or perhaps her cowardly heart from mortals could not bear the weight of corrosion, and the whispers of the High Heaven's Sinking were faintly transmitted to her ears.

In the hundreds of years of thinking about the original body, countless chaotic and gray thoughts continued to breed in the girl's mind, like a moth that gnawed away the wall of the heart that should have been resolute.

Finally, the downed Void Shield system was noticed by her dazed and confused out-of-focus pupils.

The pride and confidence generated by the memories of past lives seem to be eroded in the endless darkness, and the sentimental subspace nature is turning into a portal to chaos invasion.

When despair was about to spread to every corner of the soul, the newborn genetic primitives realized that it came from the prying eyes and erosion of the evil gods, but the exhausted soul that had been soaked in despair for a long time was powerless.

The endless and unbearable pain continued to turn into phantom pain, invading the young body.

Countless dark and desperate visions emerge before my eyes, which are never dispelled.

The curse of that knowledge, the memories of the past, tormented her soul from beginning to end.

And she can only be like a pathetic fool facing despair... Curled up in the already absorbed and dried nutrient solution.

The young genogen is still alive, her immature body is still strong, but her soul has lost the qualification to move forward to a new life.

She became a drowning fool, futilely and desperately struggling in the sea of decaying souls.

Yes, silent corruption is enough to dissolve anyone's will, not even genetic protogens - knowledge, is a terrible curse.

In the dim golden eyes, there was endless despair.

An inescapable tragic fate awaited her.

Although, now her identity is a god in the eyes of ordinary people, the heir of the emperor, and a genetic prototype.

But the countless complex plot clips always filled her mind, many of which were destined for the future.

The unforgettable tragedy kept playing on a loop, as if someone was constantly whispering to her about the inevitable tragic fate.

The Istvin massacre, the Horus rebellion... and Anglonna's tragic life of being a slave to others from beginning to end.

From the slave owner's slave, to the emperor's slave, and then to the blood god's slave.

But the only thing that can be known is that danger no longer awaits a decaying soul, which is approaching the young genotype.

Teach her in the most ruthless and iron-blooded way, in this dark universe full of tragedy, if you try to escape... Danger and fate will come your way.

……

[Is this it?] … O lackeys who will slaughter our people in the name of the blood god in the distant future. 】

The priest's prophecy was correct... The Son of the Sun in the Most High Heaven was born here. 】

[Although she did not come as promised as described in the prophecy, this planet will not shelter her forever...]

A few whispers of psionic energy filled with obscure words interrupted the girl's complicated and rotten thoughts, and her heart trembled as the chilling sense of crisis drew closer.

The Elven Assassin who had been granted the Prophecy had arrived as scheduled, and this was the first time I knew how many times.

Yes, she never took half a step out of the cultivation chamber, because it was pointless.

For the umpteenth time, fate had found her.

Before her eyes came a sight that had appeared millions of times, the Elven Assassins who had searched for the threads of fate had found traces of the nurturing chamber, the noble warriors who had practiced the way of warriors and assassins made their blades invincible, and their light and strange steps did not even leave a trace on the soft snow.

They are preparing to strangle the childhood of the future blood god slave in infancy.

In a doomed fate, she will fall in a pool of blood ...

Even the deduced battles were accompanied by the crappy memories of her battles, and it seemed that the fallen corpse was no longer the Aeldarin, but herself...

[This time, how will I die...]

The girl thought to herself in despair.

In the almost uncountable amount of time in her numb consciousness, the memories of the past seemed to be covered with a layer of gray fog. While gradually blurring, there is endless pain.

The warm and ordinary pictures stored in it seem to have turned into ordinary and ridiculous tombstones.

The past is gone, hope and courage are gone, and the future is only a tragic fate for her to undertake.

The sense of crisis is gradually approaching, the cold and piercing sense of crisis almost makes the girl's back tremble, and countless self-hypnosis of 'just dreams' are also ruthlessly broken at this moment, and she can barely breathe in the face of the weight of despair.

There was no hope in her almost pleading heart.

Under the burning out of courage, only an endless and strong feeling of despair remains.

A pale blue mist began to spread around the young genetic protogen, putrid pus began to appear on the traces of the long-dried nutrient solution, and the remnants of joy that could finally be freed by death appeared before her eyes, and the endless anger in the face of despair.

The young genogens discovered their invasion at the most irretrievable of times, yet the pride born of cursed knowledge was utterly destroyed by absolute despair time and time again.

Once the courage to fight against them, overwhelmed by the endless illusion of despair brought about by the whispers of sinking, her tenacious will and well-developed mind became their most powerful weapon.

The end of any thought and knowledge has the feathers left by the Lord of Change, and in her well-developed mind, the search that has been stretched out to a thousand years is only a futile and ridiculous stubborn resistance.

Even if it's a past that otherworldly souls are proud of... The same is true.

In that endless, nested in layers, illusions from corruption constitute an eternal cage.

Sleepiness haunted her soul all the time, and every awakening was accompanied by a real and terrifying gasp.

In the last moment, the sight was so real that she thought she had already traveled through the galaxy, and she was already immersed in the roar of the blaster and chainsaw sword with the power of the genetic prototype in a space opera.

Each time, her consciousness was enveloped in the illusion that could not have been more real, and then, soaked in the richness of genuine emotion, ushered in an inescapable destruction.

It wasn't until doomed death and severe pain that he woke up to the dull laughter of the sound of corruption.

The curtain from reality and illusion had already shattered any of her will, she had long been unable to distinguish whether what was in front of her was true or false, and her will had become a new plaything for the four gods.

The sea of souls that used to be pure has gradually turned into rotten backwater.

Any answer to prayer and begging is nothing but despair.

Until... The soul that is no longer tenacious will inevitably fall towards the highest heavens.

……

Suddenly, at this moment, some indiscernible whisper suddenly sounded in the girl's ears.

Do not be fooled by your past, my creation. 】

Don't be afraid of your future, my daughter. 】

Her dry eyes twitched blankly, and a golden glow seemed to emerge in front of her eyes.

It's cold, dazzling, and hard to look at.

Above the sea of minds, only a cold golden sun shone on the curled petite figure—not warm, but dazzling.

The image of the soul of the young genogen, which was about to be lost in the highest heaven, is gradually becoming clear, and the despair and fear that are piling up in the heart are constantly dissolving.

The future always depends on your choice. 】

[I will not completely abandon your sinking, angry, painful future... But they won't accept it all. 】

You always have the right to choose—to believe in your abilities, to believe in the abilities I have given you. 】

The cold and noble voice continued to echo in the ears of the young primordial, and the dazzling light dispelled all the pale blue mist that lingered around his daughter, and the nutrient solution that was about to condense into rotting thick water was nowhere to be found, and the endless visions that appeared in front of her eyes also dissipated, and the sharp pain and endless desperate images that pierced the brain also came to an abrupt end.

The lake of souls is pure, and the whispers of corruption from the High Heavens vanish in anger.

The word 'real' was finally rediscovered in her cognition.

The girl felt in a daze that her heart no longer trembled, and all the hazy and gray vision was clear again.

[At the next meeting... I hope you can grow up to be what I am satisfied with. 】

With the last indifferent words, the young genetic protogen's mental barrier, shattered by the invasion of the Lord of Change, was repaired by golden light, and the courage extinguished by corruption was finally ignited.

The girl looked up at the dazzling sun, sluggish and confused, her dry throat trembling slightly, but she did not utter any complicated words and words.

It's like a newborn baby, moaning and babbling meaninglessly.

She seemed to see a pair of eyes, different from the innumerable numbness of the images, but the illusory sights before her were not stained with any luster of despair.

It seemed that the Lord of Humanity was always watching his work, like an eagle leading its young eagles to fly towards the Milky Way.

"Ahh Ahh

The quivering sensation of the young throat echoed the consciousness awakened by the girl's numbness, and there was no more pain mixed with it.

In the clear line of sight, it is no longer obscured by a layer of desperate pale ash.

Everything that was real really reappeared before her eyes.

Reality... Really came back again.

The body of the young progenitor trembled, crystal tears dripped in the cradle made of pure gold, and waves rippled in the sea of pure souls.

In the dazzling light of the icy sun, the young genoplasm let out the first cry of a real, newborn life.

The abundance of pure emotion refilled her consciousness in this moment.

All... It's all back.

It was her genetic father who saved her, rescuing her from utter despair in the midst of the real and false, endless illusions tormented in the sea of souls.

In the girl's complicated mind, the first new emotions were born through the kindness of the Lord of Mankind.

Named, gratitude.

……

The young protogenetic weight was reborn.

Endless thoughts were reborn at this moment, but there was no more meaningless fear and despair, and the golden rays inlaid on the solid and heavy barrier of will drove all corrupt whispers out of the mind.

The re-enacted chess game no longer makes people lose confidence, and the gilded eyes gradually solidify in burning courage.

Until, the whisper of fate rang in her ears again, this time, without any trace of corruption.

The young genogen holds her resolve tightly, and all meaningless thoughts are abandoned, and a new fate awaits her with an uncertain future, but still hopeful.

The gears of fate are waiting for the nascent genetic prototype to be pushed by herself, and all the key prospects must be drawn by her own hands in order to change the tragedy.

Otherwise, not only fate will not let go of the fate of this genetic prototype - her past, which has fallen into the bottomless abyss of blood and pain countless times in visions, will also find her again.

She never wanted to go back.

She had to resist.

Resistance is the only way, and resistance has the potential to fail.

The Lord of the Red Sands, Angron, whose failed rebellion is a tragic story known to the girl, is a false fate fabricated by the countless pains she has experienced in the torment of the four gods, through countless visions that are too real.

She... Absolutely not to be him.

She must not let the Lord of Mankind down.

Even in this cruel universe, there are endless crises everywhere.

Yes, the girl is still in this universe full of darkness and cruelty, and a dangerous fate awaits her.

But this time, she no longer despaired, because she was not faced with meaningless visions of pain.

It's really real.

Hope for the future fills the delicate and strong body of the original genotype, and the vitality from the new life dispells all the uneasiness.

“… Call. ”

The breathing of the strong organ made the girl's dull breathing sound like thunder, and the petite figure that had been trembling began to relax slightly, and the abundant strength and will were gradually filling the body and mind of the genetic body.

In the midst of her uncertain fate, the painful memories of being invaded by chaos are still vivid, and perhaps the god-like body of the genetic protogens does not allow her to easily feel any sense of security about the future.

But the crisis is looming, and this time, in the face of a new future, she will definitely not choose to continue to curl up.

Countless fragmented stories are emerging before her eyes, and at this moment, courage replaces all the cowardice that once existed.

Bloody trials and growth will come to her after all, and there is no such thing as an 'if' that will befall her in this dark and cruel universe.

[Is this it?] … O lackeys who will slaughter our people in the name of the blood god in the distant future. 】

【…………】

Familiar psionic reverberations echoed in his ears, and countless memories of despair appeared in front of the eyes of the original genome, but they were all melted away by the blazing fire in an instant.

Now, the alien assassins known as the Aeldari have followed their fate and come to intercept the genoplasm that has just fallen in Nukeria, and will also be the future favored by the terror of Angron.

She must rely on her own hands to kill Angelon's tragic fate.

The whispers of the aliens' miscellaneous self-righteous psionic abilities became clearer, and the girl who had awakened the protogenetic psionic talent prematurely due to the deep despair of the past also noticed this.

Perhaps it is the essence from subspace that subtly changes the girl's nature to be sentimental.

But her strong heart was vigorously agitating from beginning to end.

Even... There is some expectation for the blood of the alien.

The girl's blank gilded eyes gradually condensed, although she was still confused.

But it shines brightly.

……

……

With the dull and piercing sound of metal, the dilapidated cultivation warehouse was violently opened from the inside, and Ying Ying's soft and delicate hand easily opened the gold door as if tearing paper.

The icy cold wind also blew the wet hair as red as a blazing fire, the slightly indifferent gilded eyes were like vicious dogs in the dark, and the delicate girl's body slowly stepped out of the shadows.

The healthy wheat-colored skin, stained with a hint of nutrient luster, outlined a slight outline of tendons in the dim sunlight, and the soft, fair ankles stepped on the cold frozen earth.

“……”

The feeling of setting foot in a different land for the first time left the girl at a loss.

The feeling of the white toes touching the frozen snow was not cold, but it made her feel very comfortable, maybe this genetic protogen was suitable for this place, she was a child of the mountains.

Perhaps at this moment, the girl also recognized one thing again.

She really came to the real truth.

She looked at the scene before her, as she had depicted in countless cycles of desperate memories—that Angelon had been born in the frozen mountains, and that when he had been born...

Before the girl's thoughts could be further extended, the shadows that had been surrounding her for a long time instantly came out.

The moment they saw the incarnation of the calamity described by fate, these noble and slender Spirit Assassins never hesitated.

The prophesied moment arrived, and the remnants of the magnificent armor were difficult for anyone to capture, and the dangers and dangers contained in them would not be taken lightly by any adversary in the galaxy.

[Die! The lackeys of the Blood God and the Rotting Corpse! 】

A deafening roar of psionic energy reached the girl's ears, and the cold sharpness of the single-molecule blade quickly pierced her vision.

If you are in a trance in front of the Elven Assassin's blade, then the victim's dying scene will be the separation of his own body.

However, the speed at which Astarte was terrified in the galaxy was nothing to mention in the face of the god-like physique of the genetic prototype.

The girl's cold eyes familiarly caught the comical assassination in what seemed to be in slow motion, and she turned slightly sideways to dodge it.

Yes. Although the newborn genogen was not a good warrior, millions of painful visions had become her food at this moment, and the courage that had ignited in her heart had burst forth like never before.

The instinct of a natural warrior, as a genetic protogen, also responds to her will at this moment.

Even, before that. The girl had already noticed the attack of the uninvited guests, along with other figures lurking in the shadows.

In the eyes of others, it takes a reflex nerve measured in microseconds to be able to dodge and maintain a dangerous distance.

Nowadays, this is simply not worth mentioning in the eyes of girls.

The difference between the light brown skin and the powerful alien blade is almost a stone's throw away, and the coldness from the sharp blade is almost transmitted to the tender warm skin.

However, this distance is as difficult to cross as a moat.

In this moment, the girl recognized everything she had been given by her 'father' whom she had never met.

Yes. In the face of the genetic protoplasm, any brave and warlike existence is like the gap between these brave and warlike beings and weak and cowardly mortals.

The girl had never felt so good, and the lame movements of desperate memories were replaced by smooth and precise swift movements.

Although her knowledge of battle was not profound, she also clearly recognized that these powerful Spirit Clan warriors in front of her were by no means her enemies.

In a matter of microseconds, she had learned everything the Lord of Humanity had learned about combat.

Now, the only shortcoming of the young genoplasm has also disappeared.

Moreover, the development rate of this newly born genetic prototype body is terrifying, and the biological clock in her body is only a few standard Terra years in the past, and the power contained in it is already extremely terrifying.

Seeing that the assassin leader's first blow could not be stabbed, the shadows surrounding her instantly pounced on the girl like a ferocious beast, trying to completely stifle the weak struggle of the future blood god's lackey.

The sharp psionic edge was reflected in her gilded eyes, and the sonic boom instantly blew away the icy airflow, and the slight cold temperature plummeted and the girl frowned slightly.

Boom!

When the delicate pink fist burst with a faster air pressure to meet the galloping shadow in an instant, the fastest shadow flew back in an instant, accompanied by a dull and heavy loud sound, and the inflated air pressure explosion instantly shook the other Spirit Assassins away.

Shattered skulls were scattered like broken ceramics, sticky, warm plasma mixed with brain tissue flowing out, delicate armor and flesh fragments that were almost completely shattered, and faintly visible limbs, and the contented whispers of Lady Salis, the High Heaven.

This symbolizes the complete annihilation of the life of a Elven Assassin captain.

[How, how is it possible... This servant of the Blood God, the lackey of the Corrupt Emperor... How so...]

And this situation not only frightened the surrounding assassins who were suddenly shaken by the air pressure generated by the powerful power of the genetic prototype, but also the girl was slightly stunned.

I don't know why... She didn't feel anything unusual about such a brutal and bloody scene.

She hates aliens. Perhaps, this feeling was the hatred that the Lord of Humanity had pre-programmed in her genes.

Because even if it is a newborn genetic prototype, it is far from being an existence that a despicable alien can watch on.

The girl's gilded eyes, burning with rage, grew fierce.

“… Ignorant alien miscellaneous. ”

The cold voice spoke with precision and simplicity of high gothic, and the genetically gifted with otherworldly memories knew that her psionic gifts were to connect with the hearts and emotions of others—and it could be said that the self-righteous psionic whispers of these despicable elven assassins never escaped the girl's listening.

Therefore, even if these slender psionic assassins were able to launch a sneak attack at a speed that Astarte could not even detect, it would not be commendable in the face of the reaction of the genetic protogen.

Before the other Elven Assassins, who were not as quick as the captain, could react, their flowing red hair swept over them like the gaze of death.

Grim psionic reverberations echoed through the valley with screams.

In the swift afterimage that was difficult for even the Spirit Clan to capture, the girl's weak, boneless hands tore through the armor and flesh of the Spirit Assassins one after another like sharp blades, and the viscous plasma was incinerated by the fiery turbulence of the terrifying speed before it could burst out.

The tender, fair-skinned soft feet ran with a momentum that did not match its delicate appearance, and the characteristics of the solid frozen soil were the instant breaking of the thick ice, the terrifying cracks all over each step, and the body wrapped in the sonic boom was like a rushing wave on the ocean. This terrifying sight is like a moving natural disaster, and it has swallowed up all the alien fragments in an instant.

The terrifying speed and power of this gesture tearing apart the atmosphere and nature is a testament to the bloodline inherited from the true god of the human emperor.

In this moment, the remnants of the spirits felt despair... A despair that could not resist the impending destruction, despair.

These ignorant alien crumblers... It is so ignorant of what to say, as the Lord of mankind has given her enlightenment:

[You have only turned a page about the future - and you will proclaim and practice it as if it were true.] 】

How sad. 】

Yes, the girl could not have known this feeling of futility and powerlessness as she had been when she was enveloped in endless images of despair, but it was infinitely more intense.

She felt this familiar despair through her psychics, her tenacious heart was never affected by the empathetic emotion, the slaughter became more and more ferocious, and her once-chaotic endless thinking became clearer.

She was saddled with the duties of Angelon.

She bears the fate of Angelon.

But fate is the enemy that Sisyphus fought in the sweat of day after day.

She wants to forge this sweat into a new destiny for herself, to repay the Lord of Humanity for her redemption and the most powerful confrontation against Chaos.

The girl began to run towards her destiny and was unstoppable.

It wasn't until everything was gone that the frost and rubble in the sky were gradually smoothed out by gravity.

Only the petite figure running for fate was left.

……