The Emperor’s Angel of Death

As the remaining people of Malantai wept, spear-like starlight streaked down from the shattered bubble dome of the Ark, materializing into Eternal Servants wielding weapons. Twenty Serpent Guard bodyguards also materialized in the following seconds. As the entire plaza was enveloped in magnificent radiance, Veronica appeared amidst the escort of guards, and all the Eldar present turned and knelt.

“Veronica, what brings you here? This is a battlefield, and it might still be dangerous.”

Sojun walked over, and Veronica lightly punched his belt with her small fist.

“It's all because of you! The reports said you rashly ran off alone to find... this thing? The creature emitting that enormous energy.”

She looked at the Spirit Bone Dragon, then said in surprise:

“It looks like a dragon.”

“Actually, it's like this—”

Sojun explained its origins to her again, but Veronica knew that Sojun's understanding of souls was definitely not deep enough, so she simply walked over herself.

“Your Majesty—”

The servants hurriedly tried to dissuade her, but Veronica silenced them with a gesture. To reassure everyone, Sojun followed Veronica, while the Garfield cat seemed very hesitant, raising its paw and then putting it down, then raising its paw again, and putting it down again.

As Veronica approached, the dragon gently lowered its body, showing an unusual degree of submission, perhaps because it sensed the power within her.

Then Veronica placed one hand in Sojun's palm and extended the other towards the dragon's head—

After that, Sojun finally truly understood the core of this being. Before, he had only seen it vaguely, but now he saw the past of Malantai, saw every Eldar born, the moment they grew up, their past joys, angers, sorrows, and happiness formed a deep pool. If it weren't for Veronica's guidance, he could only observe the surface of the water.

The residents of Malantai seemed to have been taught about war from birth, while also firmly believing in everything that drove them to fight and strive, and firmly believing that they would usher in their own destined doom and hope in war.

However, as a unified consciousness, "it's" existence is actually difficult to concretize.

Boy, girl, teenager, old man... each person was once a melody, so "its" soul song is also written by every Eldar, just like the reflection under the sea is a reflection of the deep sea, and the reflection on the sea is a reflection of the entire vast sky, but the sea is still just the sea—

In addition to everyone's melody, the world they once saw and thought was also presented to Sojun. This was a very unique feeling. Without strong thinking ability, one might be driven crazy by this massive amount of information.

That included countless fragmented images, intermittent sounds, and even smells and tactile sensations.

For example,

The sky of a pure world, very blue, very big, so big that it encompassed the entire world, so big that it dyed everything azure.

Alien mountains and rivers, towering peaks standing under the clouds, piercing through the sky, with a simple gray without colorful colors, rugged and craggy rocks, deep and far-reaching, then the first light of dawn, looming, and then the storm is coming, strange peaks covering the sky, no matter how the four seasons change, but with an indifferent posture, overlapping, cutting broken mottled shadows, full of melancholy.

Strange rivers, flowing through the gurgling streams under unknown deep valleys, winding and twisting between ups and downs, shimmering scales, clear streams that have never seen thick silt, jumping happily, crystal clear, but it is at the exit of the mountain pass, suddenly open, converging into the so-called rivers that rush for thousands of miles.

Mysterious forests, ancient trees verdant, roots entangled together, and above that is the accumulation of tens of millions of years of decay, a beautiful paradise piled up by corpses, life wanders in it wantonly, and then loses life, and then gives birth to life, only the rolling green waves of gaze, like silent sentinels, coldly see through generations of reincarnation, only with green leaves to rub and dye to outline the hymn of life.

The distant sea, wave upon wave, calm and vast intertwined, clear sky, swimming scales vying, boundless, azure whispering softly, slightly rippling.

The desert, the scorching sun shining all over the field, dead silence penetrates Hongmeng, hot, vast, vast, silent, and when night falls, it is full of brilliance, starlight accompanied by sudden cold, the world sleeps peacefully.

In the joyful rain, the appropriate blur and distance suddenly appear. The Ark almost never rains, it seems that this is a miracle that only the soul of the world can give, hanging curtains for those who are unwilling to look directly at the things around them, shielding the gap between reality and illusion, and indulging in the refreshing coolness.

In addition to the scenery, it also includes encounters.

Human soldiers wearing simple protective gear, civilians wearing ragged robes, bringing only violence and cruelty, they countless live in dimly lit, gray and dirty giant cities, a civilization that puts war above everything else, shrouded in the light of a false god wantonly venting himself, whether it is singing and dancing, or the sleeping bodies in the dark corners, are intoxicated with violence, intoxicated with the paralysis of faith.

The Greenskins who can only howl and wave weapons, the most profound impression is always the pungent stench of spores, as well as the war roar echoing in the ears in different tones but with similar meanings, and endless destruction.

The Gomorrah kin, degenerate, debauched, cruel, have long lost the character and elegance that Eldar should have, leaving only the viciousness bred for survival.

The Zerg, boundless, countless, with the most primitive greed, devouring everything, more like a virus than a creature, a plague spreading in reality.

The end is the last moment of all souls, that is the most beautiful and desperate scene of all fusion, at that moment, blurring every corner that all Eldar minds can reach, looking up at the sky and trembling with fear, they gave up thinking, returned to eternal darkness, heavy warmth and cold oppressed the air, unable to cry, unable to breathe, it seems that only the children who are still laughing, blow out another colorful bubble, floating into the air, gently breaking.

But light was lit in the darkness, that was the light of the seers burning their own souls, all Eldar gathered towards those lights, they embraced each other, completely opened each other, the thoughts and consciousness of this ancient race were strong enough to distort some of the structure of reality, this was the root of their glory, and also the cause of their fall.

Finally, Sojun and Veronica stood under the former Malantai's Seer Dome, the broken ground was covered with blue exotic flowers, the petals flying in the wind like blue butterflies all over the sky.

“Huh? This is—”

Suddenly Sojun issued a surprised thought, because he noticed something even more strange in this strange world.