The Emperor’s Angel of Death

“This isn't pride; it's more like a hysteria, like a hovercar going the wrong way on the freeway, and the driver thinks everyone else is going the wrong way.”

Halfway through his sentence, Sorkhyan laughed, his left elbow resting on his knee, leaning forward slightly.

“Fabius, you boast about gods and men, but how much do you know about the Warp? How much do you know about what happened there? Do you understand the nature of this sea of consciousness you speak of? Do you know how it was formed? Do you know what inhabitants it once had? You fancy yourself a true ‘human,’ but how much do you really know about humanity? Besides the bones, blood vessels, nerves, and genes that your scalpel reveals, how much do you know about humanity's hidden history? Do you know what decisive events have occurred in humanity's past four millennia, and what transcendent figures have been born? Do you truly understand the limits that ‘man’ can reach? You say you admire the Emperor; do you really understand him? Do you know how he came to be, and how he became the Master of Mankind? Do you know who he once was, and who he is now? You speak highly of agnosticism, but agnosticism doesn't mean ignorance, and you, a spider with tiny eyes, are merely spouting nonsense about things you know nothing about. So, I won't refute you, because ignorant remarks aren't worth refuting.”

Fabius narrowed his eyes slightly, his hand on his knee slowly clenching. No one had ever dared to mock his ignorance so directly, and the worst part was that he couldn't retort. He had encountered extremely arrogant Blood Angel Chapter Masters, but their words were merely laughable in his eyes.

But this person… Fabius couldn't speak, because he realized that what the other was saying was true. The other knew many secrets and truths he had never dared to imagine.

Why is this happening?

“You call yourself a rational scholar, but in my eyes, you're no different from the Word Bearers. The only difference is that they are superstitious about beings who can grant them power, while you are superstitious about your own wishful thinking. You try to catch a fish called ‘truth’ in a sea of ‘ignorance,’ but unfortunately, you can only catch a squid called ‘delusion,’ and then get a face full of ink. At that point, you'll just lament your bad luck and the incomprehension of the world. I've seen too many like you. You think science can explain everything, but do you even know what science is? Is fiddling with a few instruments science? Then the Orks are all scientists.”

Sorkhyan paused, then pointed his right index finger at the other.

“Fabius, do you understand the true general operating rules of this universe? Do you have any objective explanations, based on verifiable observations, for the world you inhabit? You don't. None of your knowledge is based on science, just like the old Imperial Truth, it’s nothing more than self-deception. Your so-called rationality is based on wishful thinking from the start, so the science you believe in is just pseudo-science without any objectivity. Your thoughts are nothing but superstition. Other Chaos scum worship destructive gods, while you worship yourself, but you're not anything impressive, just a monster shaped by pseudo-science, so you're going down an increasingly crooked path, appearing powerful but achieving nothing.”

Fabius's cheeks twitched. He was indeed angry. If he were anywhere else, he would have used his torture instruments to teach the other a lesson.

But here, he would be the one being tortured, so he could only reply in a muffled voice:

“I only focus on my own work and field… I don't have the mind to study those irrelevant fields. No one can know everything. You also know nothing about genetics and biology; you're just a child in front of me.”

Sorkhyan's smile widened.

“That's why I don't offer any opinions, because I know I don't understand. But you are boasting. Besides, didn't you say you wanted to start another Great Crusade? To make humanity great again? But you don't even know what the real galaxy is like. Your understanding of the galaxy… isn't much better than a peasant in a feudal world, so you'll never achieve the Emperor's accomplishments, because the Emperor at least knew the galaxy's past and its true appearance, but you don't. Besides humans, Eldar, and those unfortunate aliens you dissect, what else do you know? How much do you know about the Tyranids? How much do you know about the Necrons? How much do you know about those entities once called Star Gods? Do you know how many ages the galaxy has gone through, and how it has developed to its current state? Your scalpel can't help with any of these things, but they are the key to determining the future of the galaxy. So, even setting aside the sins you've committed, your so-called truth and ideals are simply based on ignorance and superstition.”

Ignorance and superstition were the terms Fabius most often used to attack the Chaos followers around him, but today they were being slammed on his own head, making him tremble with rage.

Seeing his pale face, Sorkhyan straightened up and shook his head with a sigh.

“Seeing how confident you were in calling me to come see you, I thought you'd have some profound insights, but in the end, it's just a pile of ignorant nonsense. Disappointing, disappointing… Sadly, you can't help me. Your knowledge and experience are far too lacking. I don't lack biologists. If I wanted to, I could summon a dozen Haemonculi from even the hostile Commorragh.”

Fabius looked at him coldly.

“Then why don't you kill me?”

“I had to come see you, after all. I was a little curious. Besides, I have some acquaintances of yours here. Do you know who they are?”

“Saul and Kairo, I know. What, are you going to hand me over to them?”

“Captain Saul seems to have something he wants to ask you personally. He's on his way, but I don't think he'll do anything to you.”

“Oh? What about you then?”

“Me? I won't kill you for now, because I want to use this clone of you to find the real Spider, drag him out of the web, and then stomp him to death.”

After a moment of silence, Fabius said slowly:

“You need my help. I've had contact with that individual's genes. They're special… different from all the Primarchs.”

Sorkhyan tilted his head slightly to the left and said calmly:

“I know. You've cloned Primarchs, Horus, and what else? Or have you tried other Primarchs as well? But Abaddon destroyed your corrupt laboratory and eliminated all your samples. Are you trying to say you cloned Xerses? It's possible. I guess your gene samples came from Fulgrim.”

“It seems you know a lot about me. Yes, I cloned the Eleventh Legion Primarch, but it failed. The gene samples were too small to continue the experiment, only 1 microliter of blood, possibly from the weapon that killed the Eleventh Primarch… But I have some vague guesses about the Eleventh Primarch's execution.”

“Oh?”

“His gene arrangement is fundamentally different from all the other Primarchs. This difference shouldn't exist among Primarchs who should be blood relatives, because their paternal and maternal gene sources are completely consistent. However, later, when I was creating new humans, I encountered similar differences. Finally, after repeated experiments, I suddenly realized a problem… The Eleventh Primarch might not be a Primarch.”

Sorkhyan sat in his chair without saying a word, but his right hand was gently tapping the armrest.

Fabius suddenly burst out with some intense emotion.

“In the past, I wasn't sure about this guess, but now perhaps you can answer this question… The Eleventh Primarch, is he the Emperor's own son? Is he the offspring of the Emperor and the maternal gene source of the Primarchs through natural reproduction? Instead of a product born in a laboratory.”

With one last tap, Sorkhyan suddenly stopped moving. The way he looked at Fabius was as if he were looking at a corpse.