How can a retired savior be considered retired if his price drops to 40,000?

Chapter 347 The Chessboard of Cause and Effect

Everything has cause and effect, every sip and bite is predestined.

Although the invisible threads of fate are difficult for mortals to grasp, they are not beyond our reach in this vast universe. Even without mentioning the powerful person who sits in one of the eight corners of the Chaos Demon Realm and calls himself the "Architect of Fate", there are still countless people who can hide themselves behind the scenes and pull the threads according to their own ideas from unknown corners.

All the results that happened at that moment can be traced back to some causes that disturbed fate long ago:
For example, Carlos the Fateweaver, the Lord of Change, tried to drag the entire chapter into the arms of Tzeentch at the cost of curbing the Black Rage of the Blood Drinkers;
For example, Sadkiel the Greedy Vulture, a demon prince serving the Scarlet King, planted the seeds of chaos into the young Blood Angels think tank Antros, waiting for an opportunity to seize the triple soul of the think tank director Mephiston, which had been polished and solidified after three resurrections;

For example, "Lord of Death" Mephiston, the most powerful Astartes psyker on the dark side of the Empire, perhaps the only one, had foreseen the possible future on the chessboard before the Tzeentch demon's trick took place, and reversed the polarity of the entire ritual with a tiny flaw in the artifact, and threw the transforming Antros along with the Nine-fold Silver Tower of the Nine-fold Ritual back into the Crystal Palace, where even the Scarlet King Magnus could not reach, let alone control.

Another example is Chaldea's master Fujimaru Ritsuka, a lost person trapped in the Tzeentch domain, a wandering person riding a white horse. She does not have the foresight of the first three, does not have the talent or ability to peek into fate, and does not know the previous events in any sense. She just walked to the valley formed by the tower forest, and met a half-human, half-bird deformed person who was tortured by a spell and almost lost his mind in the ruins, and then asked: "What is your name? Or, how should I call you?"

She didn't have any extra thoughts, and there was no conspiracy hidden under the question, but her words themselves had some kind of weak magic. This power was not enough to reunite the self that was shattered into thousands of pieces in the Aberrant's mind, not enough to reduce the reversal and collapse of his mind by the Chaos Fel Energy, and not even enough to calm the countless recitations of the future and cries of thirst for knowledge in his ears, but it did tie a thin thread from his completely upside-down mind:

"Silver Tower." The Aberrant said, "I am part of this nine-story silver tower, an incarnation of this magnificent creation."

The rider on the white horse frowned. "This is not a human name."

So he began to question the answer he had given. Under the influence of the chaotic storm blowing in his mind, he could not always maintain this doubt, just as he could not stabilize his thoughts - but although this doubt was repeatedly beaten under the water by the waves of endless thoughts, it was always tied by some force and would sooner or later float up to the sea of ​​unconsciousness again.

The cause of the thin spider silk did not bear fruit until long after the Wanderer left the Silver Tower. At that time, the Lord of Change's wild laughter resounded throughout the Tzeentch Realm, and the crystal-clear palaces and landscapes were constantly collapsing and reorganizing. The Silver Tower also repeated the gathering and fragmentation of thoughts and gave him an answer at this time: he originally had a human name, which was just scattered among the thousands of minds shattered by Sadkiel's witchcraft. Now, he remembered: his original name was Antros. Lucius Antros.

The name is the frame. The original life of "Lucius Anteros" was framed as he confirmed his name (self), and emerged one by one from the turbulent storm in the sea of ​​consciousness.

He was a Blood Angel Librarian. He was supposed to be at the side of the Librarian. He had failed, completely. He had failed the Blood Angels, brought shame upon the Chapter, and betrayed the trust of Mephiston, who had promoted him out of his ordinary - but was it really his failure, not Mephiston's? Did the Chief Librarian not see through his shaky nature during their final game? If so, why did he allow himself to learn from all the secret repositories in the Librarian's Sanctum? If not, why did he specifically hand himself a flawed weapon before going into battle? Did the Chief Librarian's eyes see through everything before it happened? And was he just a discarded pawn destined to be sacrificed from the beginning?
A young and arrogant Librarian, a soul that already harbors the seeds of corruption. Even though he is a psyker chosen from among the most ambitious, and the masters of the Chapter have spent more than a hundred years honing his abilities and skills, he is still insignificant compared to the goal that has been truly achieved. It is not unacceptable to use such a person to exchange for the peace of an Imperial world, to thwart a conspiracy related to the grand plan of the Daemon Primarch. Even Antros, who is now the "Silver Tower", forced to endure the heart-wrenching pain of a shattered soul and forced to be tied to a Chaos creation, will admit this.

However, this was too painful. It was so painful that the mark left by the archangel in his soul through his bloodline was on the verge of breaking. It was so painful that he couldn't help but question whether all the love and indulgence in the past were fake.
For the Silver Tower, which had already fallen into the devil's way, this was not a question worth exploring - not even a question. But the weak human heart still longed for an answer, so Anteros began to search up and down.

He wanted to see his mentor, the head of the Blood Angels think tank, "Lord of Death" Mephiston again.

But now Antros can no longer enter the Think Tank Sanctuary on Baal with confidence and swagger as before. Silver Tower, who was promoted to the Demon Prince in the distortion, must act in the way of the Tzeentch Demon - but he is very lucky. If he wants to make a plan for this purpose, it is surprisingly not difficult.

The mark of the holy blood allowed Antros to easily learn about the conspiracy of the demons that were entangled with his blood brothers in the Tzeentch Demon Realm. The power that Chaos gave to the Silver Tower also made him naturally understand how to tamper with the threads of fate. He saw the deep connection between the Blood Drinkers and Carlos, and took advantage of the Lord of Change's attention to seize the corresponding psychic channel when the Fate Weaver was dying, and got in touch with the Blood Drinkers' think tank chief:
"This is Carlos' plan." He said to his former brother and current enemy, "I want him to mess it up. By the way, I want to meet Lord Mephiston. Besides, this will also benefit you, right?"

The former was the Silver Tower's idea. Tzeentch demons would always fight for power and profit, and this might be written into their instincts. The latter was naturally Antros's idea, and the little think tank even unconsciously used a respectful title in his address.

"You want to see 'Lord Mephiston'?" The Chief Librarian of Avernis noticed the details of the address and looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to see him?"

Antros did not answer directly, but retreated deeper into a cloud of bright blue and pink smoke to ensure that the other party would not see the blue armor on his body, which was derived from the Blood Angels think tank. "If you don't agree, then the event of 'My meeting with Mephiston' will not happen, and it will naturally have nothing to do with you. If you agree, then you will be dead by then, and it will naturally have nothing to do with you."

Avernis accepted this "nothing to do with" view, just as he decided to accept the plan proposed by Antros after discussing with the Chapter Master. The help from the Tzeentch demon is naturally very suspicious, but if it involves the internal strife of Chaos, the reliability of this matter becomes straight-up. Although they still have to be wary of this "newcomer" wanting to use this to achieve some evil purpose of their own, and its words are not worthy of trust, but in any case, the only ones who may be affected in the ritual are the veteran blood drinkers who have been contaminated by the Horus ritual.

Weighing the two, although this is not a very reliable plan, there is still a chance that Chapter Master Orlok will choose to take this gamble - this is originally only a small probability, but a small probability still exists. After a glimpse from the far corner of the galaxy, it became true. So, with Chief Librarian Avernis as the center, the Chapter Master of the Blood Drinker, the Recluse Master, the Captain of the Third Company, and the souls of more than 400 Firstborn Veterans who had been transferred from the Chapter or the Battleship in advance as sacrifices, Antros passed through the Warp rift torn open on the Noble Blood and went to reality - and finally, met Mephiston again.

Then, he had to face the problem again: he had to meet Lord Mephiston. What would he do after meeting him?
"I - Lord Mephiston! I succeeded!" The scattered memories were fragmented. The superficial human heart that was eager to prove itself became restless based on the first record that surfaced in the consciousness, controlling the demon prince's twisted and protruding beak. "You are really ingenious. The tiny flaw on the staff reversed the polarity of the entire spell at the last moment! As a result, all the nine silver towers on Sabaseus were thrown back into the crystal maze, and can no longer interfere with the real world-"

"——Antros." Mephiston's deep voice hummed under the influence of huge spiritual energy. The Chief Think Tank's eyes filled with azure power looked directly at the Demon Prince, "What are you?"

"What am I?" The question stunned him.

I am Antros, your think tank apprentice? He wanted to say this, but the bird's beak was tightly closed, not letting him make a sound. Another answer rose up from the continuous storm in his mind, and Carlos's successful smile came to his ears from the depths of the vast ocean. His instinct drove him to say the new answer, but he didn't - he used his hands that had mutated into bird claws to tightly clasp his equally deformed mouth, and the trembling feeling generated from his subconscious made him turn back and look at where he came from.

Along with the answer, he was also aware of another flaw: How could a newborn, tiny, meritless and unremarkable Tzeentch Demon Prince like him be worthy of a ceremony in which more than four hundred Astartes souls were sacrificed to unveil him?
Perhaps he shouldn't have turned his head in front of the Blood Angels' Chief Librarian, but he did it anyway. So he saw that the Warp rift behind him was still expanding, with no sign of stopping. More than four hundred souls could not satisfy it, and it would continue to devour - until it tore the Noble Blood apart, and sacrificed the Blood Angels' sorrowful responsibility for ten thousand years, until it expanded to the point where it could pour the behemoth it should spit out into reality:
He is the Silver Tower. He is part of the Nine-Layered Silver Tower in the Tzeentch Realm, and an incarnation of that magnificent creation. His appearance in reality can be an equivalent replacement for the Silver Tower's invasion in reality.

——Never identify with this future (self)!
He heard the sound of the bombs and felt the burning pain brought by the psychic lightning. The flying executioner's axe tore the colorful wings behind him with the decomposition force field, and he had to fall from midair. Under the influence of the human instinctive reflex that remained in this body, he had to let go of his hands and loosen the grip on his mouth that he used to speak. When his eyes focused again, the psychic giant sword Vitalus in the hands of the Chief Think Tank was flashing with lightning and was approaching rapidly.

"I am, I am--" He spoke the words in his mind uncontrollably, answering the questions his former master had asked him.

"I am..." No one told him what to do. Even the person who left this thin spider silk for him didn't know the cause and effect. However, he still chose to fight with the loyal instinct left to him by the father of genes. He gathered his spirit with the intuition gained from countless meditations by skilled psychics.

"I am Lucius Anteros!" For the first time, the Heart of Man completely overwhelmed the Devil's consciousness, causing him to scream with his mutated vocal cords. The harsh sound waves scraped the eardrums of everyone present both physically and spiritually. "I refuse! I refuse! I don't want to bring anything else here!"

The expansion of the subspace rift was indeed temporarily slowed down by the demon prince's denial, but it was meaningless. It was an established fact that the incarnation of the Silver Tower had stepped into reality, and his denial of his own identity was ultimately a futile attempt. Of course, everyone present could easily realize the method that might be able to stop all this, and the evidence was that the chief think tank's weapon had mercilessly pierced his chest.

The psychic energy of a landslide and tsunami flowed into Vitalus's organs that were alienated by chaos. This blazing power poured a huge amount of pain and anger into his soul. The little think tank screamed in pain. The spell that could allow him to escape from the current situation had been delivered to his mouth by the Silver Tower, but he endured the pain and bit the words that had to be connected to work, making it impossible for the vortex of psychic energy to construct any substantial effect.

He failed again, Antros thought. And this time, he didn't have the Staff of Anton Mathias given to him by the Chief Librarian, and he wasn't in a spell ritual that could be reversed. The only remedy he could think of was to die under Mephiston's sword, but he wasn't sure that his demise could close the crack caused by his own active planning. He didn't mean to do this, he just - he remembered, he just had a question to ask his former mentor:

Have you tried to save me?
The demon prince's eyes, which had turned yellow due to mutation, still revealed some humanity, but this question could no longer be asked from his throat, which was almost burned out by psychic energy. In the storm of consciousness, the Silver Tower complained loudly about the failure, accusing the deliberate procrastination and interference of the human heart as the culprit that led to their imminent annihilation, but in the last period of time, Anteros ignored it because Mephiston spoke:

"You did a good job, kid." At a very close distance, the Chief Librarian's voice was almost whispered, "You bought us a little more time. I know you tried your best."

Anteros smiled, even though he wasn't sure he could ever make a similar expression again. He didn't get an answer to his question, but that was just as well.

That's fine too.

Antros sincerely believed this when his soul was completely crushed by the majestic spiritual energy and burned to ashes in the raging flames.

(End of this chapter)