The battle for heaven intensifies.

The Old Saints have a slow, cold-blooded intelligence, incredible technology, and a galaxy-wide network. But the Star God is too powerful. They are the embodiment of the material universe, the embodiment of the laws. Reality is nothing more than a toy for them that they can manipulate as they please.

"They used to be harmless phenomena, neither good nor evil. But they are forced to be gods, and the nature of gods is to be careless. In the glow of the battleship's burning, Neos spoke.

Shelley did not speak. She watched with fascination as the obelisk of the Dreaded Dead was swept by the Nighthuer's scythe and then reduced to ashes. The reflection of those scattered fragments reflected in the gray-blue eyes, like a shipwreck sunk in a shipwreck.

"It took them many, many generations to build this obelisk." She whispered, "This is their first." Just one drawing consumes generations ......"

"It's their choice, Shelley. Each living creature in the universe has its own suffering. ”

As if he hadn't heard, Shelley spoke to himself. "They used tyranny, mercy, and scientific and technological progress to go through many empresses, and finally built this monument. As she stands tall in the heart of the city, people who see her are blown away by this beauty. Even though they could touch the sky, they were amazed at the miracle that their hands could create. They have hope. If such a miracle can be created, what other fate is predestined? ”

Neos did not speak. They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking at the pitifully small remnant of the pedestal beside the star god's body. He heard the guards sobbing like children. Those powerful runes, those words of prayer shone in vain.

Many of the more complex and strategic creations of the Feared had already been destroyed before that. But this monument is different, it symbolizes the obsession of all intelligent races - to build a tower that reaches to the sky, to engrave the name in stone, and to spread it on the earth.

The pain of a race tore open the last fetal membranes of the subspace and brought out the bloody fetuses. Three thrones rise from the immaterial sea of milk, entrenched in deceit, war, and pestilence. Another throne is half-shaded and half-exposed, overwhelmed from time to time by the uncertain tides of subspace.

However, under the peacock's throne, the presence of white skin and dark green eyes frolicked with fawn-like beasts. They lit incense, washed the jewels of the throne with the tears of innocents, and smeared the beautiful patterns with the blood of children.

"Slaanesh." Neos uttered the name.

With the exception of the unborn Slaanesh, every newborn, or just newly manifested, Chaos God, was surrounded by demons at its feet. When the battle for heaven caused so many killings and atrocities that it tore through the veils of reality and subspace, these inanimates, large and small, lined up to fight against all living beings.

When new weapons are installed and new warfare techniques are applied, every head of Tzeentch laughs wildly. When blood flowed unchecked, and warriors slaughtered each other with monstrous hatred, the terrorists nodded in satisfaction. As the despair and death brought about by the war spread, the cries of the people were taken by Nurgle. And at any moment, the laughter of the demon of Slaanesh will be heard around the indulgent.

"Do you still want God?" Nyos asked calmly.

Shelley lifted her tearful eyes. "If I had a choice, I would die with all the gods. But the gods who hate us already exist, my lord. Why can't we have a God who loves us? ”

"There is no God who loves man."

"I know...... I know, but that great power of faith is already there. I know you can feel it. The turbulence in the subspace caused by our human civilization in just tens of thousands of years is already comparable to what the spirit race has accumulated in 60 million years! Another Slaanesh will be born from our desires at any moment, and then we will also become a cursed race, devoured by our own patron gods......"

Shelley was silent for a moment. "The Twilight Star Project is very poor, I know...... But it's no better than nothing at all. At the very least, we have a chance to forge a better, more controlled God. ”

"Slaanesh wasn't born out of the desires of the spirits, she's already here." Nyos said.

Shelley shrugged. "I know...... When the gods were born, they infect all timelines, which is why the demon of Slaanesh appeared long before the birth of the spirits. There is no time in the subspace, but it is indeed the indulgence of the Spirit Race that forgs the towering guillotine for them, isn't it? ”

"Nope." Neos replied briefly. He stretched out his hand and adjusted the currents of the subspace, transforming the image into a strange building.

Several ancient saints were surrounded by a dismantled demon body of Slaanesh in front of them. An ancient saint was observing the pair of sheep's hooves with a shiny unknown tool.

And the surrounding densely packed petri dishes, petri dishes......

Shelley's eyes widened.

Soaked in countless bodies of all kinds, but some of them could already be seen in the characteristics of the spirit race.

"It wasn't the spirits who created Slaanesh, it was Slaanesh who created them." Neos spoke in a flat tone. "Adalyn is a race created by the ancient saints based on the demon of Slaanesh."

Shelley heard Nyos's voice. He always seems to be so unfazed and patiently comparable to the best teacher. "In order to fight against the Star God, the Ancient Saint chose to use a seemingly feasible subspace power. They studied the nature of demons, extracted uncertain chaotic energy, and created many psionic sensitive races to help them win the battle for heaven. For greater stability, they also forged gods for these races to prevent demons from usurping control of their weapons. ”

"It's not much different from your Twilight Project, is it?"

Shelley lost the ability to speak. Nyos didn't pay any further attention. He waved his hand and let the time flow in front of him.

The Ancient Sage's plan to create succeeded, and the tall spirits awoke from the petri dish. The Old Saints sowed this nascent race and many, many contemporaneous products into the right planets, leaving behind knowledge and gifts. They don't expect anything in return, at least in the eyes of the children. And many of them have the power to touch the other side of the veil, and they are known as psionic races.

After these warrior races had grown enough, the scarred ships of the Ancient Saints returned, carrying them to the grand battlefield. They played a role, but the Ancient Saints underestimated the abilities of their old opponents. Because of the losses of the long-term battle with the Star God, their individual number has been decreasing, and their technology has also deteriorated.

"I watched as the pioneers encouraged the young race to delve into another realm and use their energetic minds and passionate souls to create powerful beings against the Star Gods." Neos explained dutifully.

Shelley watched as the ancient saints guided the faith of the Spirit Race and shaped an entire pantheon. The room where the spirit race was once cultivated had a few more huge crystals to hold the god's body. Each one is frozen with an individual who can be said to be beautiful. There are funny clowns, fierce warriors, and more. The tallest of them all seemed to be a beautiful young spirit woman.

She recognized the maiden, and in the mythology of the Spirit Clan, she was known as the guardian of wealth and inspiration, the maiden god Lilith.

In order to better exert the power of these subspace weapons, the Ancient Saints also created two special entities. Shelley knew their names: Eldanesh and Urtanash. They are the heroes of the Elves and the only ones capable of guiding the forces of the Pantheon in battle against their enemies. Their presence alleviated the ancient sage's urgent needs, but it was not enough.

So, the pioneers decided to take a desperate gamble.

They came to the depths of subspace.

The Invisible Abyss, the Borderlands of the High Heavens, no dark god has sovereignty here, but that doesn't mean it's safer. On the banks of the slow-burning river of tar, petrified forests point to a storm in the sky. Shaped by the chaotic emotions of the creatures of the galaxy. Because of the Battle of Heaven, the chaotic energy here has become very sinister. Every dream that was/is/will flicker in it.

The messengers of the ancient saints walked up the transparent staircase. Neos followed, and Shelley hesitated before following. Her mind had not yet recovered from the numbness of shock, and her legs walked mechanically.

They ascended, descended, and circled and circled, and the ladder seemed to be end-to-end. Many parts of the staircase are bent in unnatural forms, taking on eerie angles. As the trip progressed, the scenery became more and more grotesque. The living and the dead encountered in life flashed in front of Shelley. Once or twice, they met oncoming Neos and Shelley on the stairs.

Eventually, the Ancient Sage stopped, and a door appeared on this endless loop of staircase. There is nothing unusual about this door. Actually, the problem with it is all too normal. At a glance, Shelley saw that it was a shoddy wooden door, with a black-brown color after the wind and rain.

The ancient saint pushed the door open, and the creaking and grinding of the door shaft made Shelley daz.

Behind the door is a deep lake, stained by the dying glow of the twin suns.

She held her breath as she watched the mirror-smooth surface of the water until it quivered gently like the womb of a mother-in-law. A yellow figure rises from it, slowly like a twilight star. Its eyes looked at Shelley from behind the mask, even though she knew it was impossible.

It looked like a tall figure in a yellow robe, but it was a false shade that made Shelley's eyes burn just by looking at it. It was a mixture of defiled flesh, perverted dreams and all hopes. The color whispered a name in her ear, but it was so long that Shelley captured only one "erosion and destruction."

Strangely, when it spread its hands out of the air, the layers of yellow robes were not wet at all. It turned its pale mask toward the Old Sage, then reached into the fabric with its wizened hand, pulled out a mass of something, and placed it in the palm of the other's hand.

The Ancient Sage silently put away such a thing. Their numb expressions seemed to reveal a kind of disgust. In a flash, Shelley saw the black mass, which was steaming like a flame.

"What's that?" She asked softly, turning her head.

"Lord of Darkness." Nyos said. Immediately afterward, his calm expression suddenly froze, and he looked straight behind Shelley.

Shelley stiffened, slowly twisted his neck, and heard the click of his own neck bones. She saw the ancient sage's movements freeze in mid-air, time seemed to stand still, and the cold light sprinkled on the lake. The yellow-robed figure floated over slowly, clearly targeting the two of them.

But how is this possible...... It's just a piece of the past.

Her pupils reflected a larger and larger yellow figure. It was so close that the soft fabric clung to her skin, so close that her breath met with the cold breath under her hood. For a moment, she thought the eyes under the pale mask were fixed on her.

Then the yellow robe passed through her, enveloping her vision. There was nothing inside, only a coldness deeper than death. Shelley realized that he had seen, or felt, some senses that his mind could not bear, and then he was forcibly erased by his faint consciousness. By the time she regained consciousness, her vision was clear. The yellow-robed man floated straight towards Nyos next to him, as if she didn't exist.

The wizened right hand was raised gracefully again, and he slowly took off his mask with his back to Shelley.

"It's you." Neos whispered, the light casting a shadow under his brow bone, making Shelley unable to see his eyes.

"Hate the sky." The voices of the yellow-robed people are like a chorus of countless voices, speaking a variety of languages, and finally converging into a single word that is difficult to translate. The sound made Shelley's ears bleed, and she staggered to the last of her spirit, and collapsed into a benevolent fainting.

But when she woke up again, it was already the laboratory where the spirit clan was cultivated again. At this moment, on the stage, on the platform......

Shelley breathed heavily, trying to deny his sight and sanity, but the mind that still refused to fall into madness shouted at her about the reality.

She watched as the Old God lowered a cluster of black flames into the body, causing it to shudder and open its eyes. She saw the countless individuals in the petri dish, spreading all the way to the end of her vision.

Despite the differences from today's humans, she recognized them.

"That's why I have denied your plans and cannot promise you salvation." Neos reached out and grabbed her as she crumbled, "Humanity already has its own god. He is called the Lord of Darkness, who has no hindrance or mercy. He is the ruler of one end of the eight-pointed star, the harmony of chaos, the unity of the eight winds, the lord and enemy of the gods. It only desires to destroy and bring everything to its destined end—to be reduced to dust and forgotten. ”

"The first humans were the product of a trade between the Old Sage and the unborn god, endowed with souls by its dark essence. If there is a Creator, then this is the Creator. If there is grace, then it is grace. If there is salvation, what salvation could be more sublime.

Therefore I deny the gods, and do not want to wear the crown that they have forged, even if it is as light as a laurel branch. For once humans bow their knees to any god, then they will inevitably fall to their dark fathers, resigned to their innate fate. I don't want people to be ruled by such a god.

You want a new god who is as charitable as possible to ward off the curse of Chaos. You think you have created a new god, but this is not so much a creation as a discovery. You have dug up His branches, large and small, and mistaken them for seedlings. And on Colchis...... You have dug up His throne.

Your plan of salvation fills the last link in the Dark King's chain. In this cause and effect that is finally created, He will arise. Now you can't run away from Him, none of us can run away from Him. He is in your flesh and blood, and He is all of you. ”