Datch carefully stored the Infinity Gauntlet away. He checked the minimap once more, confirmed there were no missions, and decided it was time to leave this point in time and return to the game's main timeline.
He first recalled Mordachi and the other Space Marines, opened the door to the Room of Requirement, and sent them back.
Next, he took out Rick's teleport gun, set Corvus Corax's coordinates… and pulled the trigger. A green teleport portal opened before his eyes.
Datch stepped through. In the next instant, he appeared inside a stone building.
This was the assembly hall of a city-state on Nuceria.
The walls were made of gray stone bricks, decorated with ancient reliefs depicting fierce gladiatorial battles, hordes of slaves, and nobles looking down on the people from high pedestals.
But now, most of these reliefs were covered by simple hanging curtains and makeshift bulletin boards.
Sunlight streamed in through long, narrow windows high up, illuminating the dimly lit hall.
Corvus Corax stood before a massive table, still wearing his black power armor. His black hair cascaded over his shoulders, blending almost perfectly with the black armor.
On the opposite side of the stone table stood Angron. He was just as handsome and beautiful as Corvus Corax. His eyes held a focused, radiant light.
He and Corvus Corax were discussing the promotion and implementation of welfare policies.
"If we cannot provide them with a better life, then all this bloodshed has been meaningless."
Angron nodded at Corvus Corax's words and traced something on the stone table with his finger.
"You're right, but our biggest problem right now is a shortage of resources…"
Corvus Corax continued, "That's why we can't rely solely on spoils. We need to restore production. The liberated slaves cannot simply wait passively for handouts. They need their own land, their own work, and their own lives."
"But how can we guarantee that a new oppressive class won't emerge? What if, in the future, people with such power and wealth appear?"
"Establish a monitoring mechanism. Let each community elect its own representatives to form a council, so everyone has the opportunity to fight for their rights. If they refuse to resist, then no one can help them…"
"..."
Corvus Corax enjoyed the conversation and found it stimulating.
In contrast to the irrational rage he felt when the Butcher's Nails were implanted, Angron was unusually calm.
He not only patiently listened to everyone's needs but also offered advice with genuine empathy.
He was a completely different person from the Angron in his memories.
And Angron, too, realized that this giant who always hid in the shadows possessed wisdom no less than his own and could offer all manner of constructive suggestions.
"May I ask your name?"
While the two were discussing welfare policies, Angron asked Corvus Corax for his name.
However, Corvus Corax did not say that the Emperor would definitely come to Nuceria and take Angron back.
At that moment, Angron would finally learn who he was and what his mission was!
Why wouldn't anyone tell him their names?
Seeing Corvus Corax fall silent, a faint sadness appeared on Angron's face.
The cold man and the giant before him had always avoided speaking of each other's true identities.
From this, Angron sensed that they were hiding some tremendous secret.
At that moment, Datch walked lightly into the assembly hall.
However, the senses of the two Primarchs were far too sharp. They immediately noticed his arrival and turned to look at him.
Corvus Corax gave him a slight nod with a gentle gaze.
"You're here." Angron walked around from behind the stone table and approached Datch.
He walked with long strides, crossing the entire hall in just a few steps.
"Thank you for your support on Nuceria, Nameless One."
Datch nodded lightly, then looked at Corvus Corax.
"Let's go. It's time to depart."
Corvus Corax hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"Where are you going?" Angron's voice suddenly took on an urgent tone. "Couldn't we entertain you properly?"
There was a faint trace of panic in his tone.
The panic he displayed was nothing like that of a world-conquering ruler. It was more like that of a child afraid of losing someone he was meant to protect.
Corvus Corax turned to look at Angron.
"There are more important matters, brother."
Brother.
Angron's pupils contracted slightly, as if he wanted to ask something, but Corvus Corax gave him no opportunity.
"But don't be sad. I'll come see you again soon."
"Of course, at that time, you still won't remember any of this."
With that, Corvus Corax turned and walked toward Datch, then stepped into the strange blue phone box.
Angron stood there, watching the two figures enter the phone box one after another.
Immediately afterward, the blue phone box began to emit a buzzing sound.
Countless bright electrical arcs erupted from the top of the phone box, like a swarm of violently dancing snakes.
They coiled around the phone box, slicing through the surrounding air and leaving trails of light.
After a while, the phone box vanished, leaving him alone in the empty assembly hall.
Angron stood there, staring at the spot where the phone box had disappeared, his brow furrowed.
"What does it mean that the next time we meet, you won't recognize me?"
What were the origins of this giant in black armor and the Nameless One who wielded mysterious power?!
Where did they come from, and where were they going?
Why had they appeared when he was in his most desperate situation, pulled him back from the brink of despair, only to suddenly vanish?
Would they truly meet again?
Countless questions flooded Angron's mind like an untangleable knot of threads.
…
From the outside, the TARDIS looked like nothing more than an elongated blue phone box.
Stepping inside revealed a vast space spanning hundreds of square meters.
In the center of the circular hall stood the control panel, with countless buttons and screens flashing.
The surrounding walls were covered in complex mechanical structures and glowing circular patterns.
Datch stood before the control panel, casually operating several switches.
Corvus Corax stood behind him, silently watching the images displayed on the screen.
This was the time tunnel.
Countless beams of light surged from all directions and scattered in all directions.
They intertwined, coiling like a swarm of snakes, forming an endless flowing river of time.
Datch suddenly remembered that he had a "River God" experience card.
Wouldn't it be incredibly interesting to use it here?
The Milky Way was a river, so wasn't the river of time also a river?
The TARDIS traveled through the flow of time.
He did not know how much time had passed, but the light ahead suddenly grew brighter.
It surged forward from the end of the passage, instantly engulfing the entire TARDIS.
Corvus Corax unconsciously narrowed his eyes.
As the light faded, the TARDIS quietly stopped above an empty hall.
The hatch opened, and the first to step out was Corvus Corax.
The hall was extremely spacious, spanning several hundred square meters.
The floor was metallic, polished to a shine, reflecting the overhead lights. Huge screens were embedded in the surrounding walls.
The screens displayed various data such as star charts, troop deployments, and logistics supply lines.
In the center of the hall stood a massive tactical table, projecting a 3D image of the entire Vigilant region.
Dots of light in different sizes and colors represented the fleets of different factions.
This was none other than the Vigilant Star High Command.
Several Primarchs remained at the strategy conference table, discussing upcoming military operations.
When Corvus Corax walked over and joined them,
they asked the Raven Lord what he had seen.
"We traveled through time and space."
With just those words, Corvus Corax drew the attention of the other Primarch brothers.
Corvus Corax organized his thoughts and calmly recounted his experiences on Nuceria.
They had saved Angron in the arena and prevented the local nobles from implanting the Butcher's Nails in him.
They had punished the tyranny of the local nobles, liberated the innocent, and helped Angron conquer the planet.
The Primarchs listened in astonishment. They had never expected the Raven Lord to have such a stimulating experience with the Nameless One.
However, Lion El'Jonson raised a question.
"If Angron's fate has already changed, then why is Angron still a slave to Chaos in this era?"
This question was answered by Natase, the Eldar prophet who served Guilliman.
"It's because of the Horus Heresy."
The Primarchs' gazes fixed on the xenos.
"Your understanding of this war is limited to the rebellion that hindered the rise of human civilization, the tragedy of brothers killing brothers, and father killing son."
Natase paused for a moment before continuing.
"But its significance does not stop there. In essence, it was a direct confrontation between your human lord and the four Chaos Gods."
"It was a dam built with countless lives and blood, which had held back the erosion of the material world by Chaos."
When Natase raised his hand, the runes engraved on his body flew out, dragging trails of light and forming the image of a flowing, glowing river.
Then, a massive dam appeared from the void.
It was positioned on the other side of the river, dividing it in two.
"This river is time and history itself. One side of the dam is the past, and the other is the future."
"And this dam is the site where the Horus Heresy took place," Natase said, pointing at the dam.
"More precisely, this is the place where that war ended—the site of the final battle between Horus and the Emperor aboard the Vengeful Spirit."
"The significance of that decisive battle transcends the war itself. It became a key point, a central hub, a nexus that severed history from causality."
Natase moved his finger and pointed to the opposite side of the dam.
There, countless small ripples spread out like waves created when a stone is thrown into water.
"The changes brought about in the past by the Nameless Ones—these ripples will spread into the future."
"However, they were blocked by this dam. They were blocked by that decisive battle. As long as the outcome of that decisive battle does not change, these ripples will not affect the present."
"In other words," Guilliman began slowly, as if struggling to understand the complex causality, "no matter what the Nameless One did in the past, as long as he does not change the final battle between the Emperor and Horus, those changes will not affect us?"
Natase nodded.
"But if he changes the final battle, then all the changes he caused will erupt at once, the timeline will be torn apart, and all of history will be rebuilt."
What a magnificent feat! Once the final adjustment is complete, the entire timeline will be reversed.
It may not be unprecedented, but it is highly unlikely to happen again.
The words of the prophet Natase enlightened them all, and they understood.
Ferrus Manus wanted to ask the Nameless One why he was changing history bit by bit.
However, the other party ignored him, wandered around the High Command, and then took out his teleport gun and opened a portal to another location.
He jumped through, and the Primarchs, who had no idea what his purpose was, stood in the hall with puzzled expressions, looking at each other.
Where on earth had he gone?
…
Planet Ryoon IV in the Agrilan System was a mining world.
However, like most Imperial mining planets, the sky here was gray.
A layer of gray-yellow clouds mixed with the smell of industrial exhaust drifted slowly, making the world appear terribly dark.
In the distance, Mount Charonchao rose like a majestic mountain range.
It was a massive structure built by the Human Imperium over several centuries.
The diameter of the lowest level exceeded 100 kilometers, while the upper levels featured a layered structure densely packed with windows and passages like a honeycomb.
The mountain was so tall that its peak disappeared into the yellow clouds, and from the ground, only a sharp tip could faintly be seen amid the swirling clouds.
On the walls of the morning capital, countless cannons slowly rotated.
The defensive positions were solid, composed of massive railguns, dense automated turrets, and countless unidentified weapons.
However, Hassan, standing beside the Manta-class transport, understood all too well that such defenses and firepower were no match for the Tau Empire.
The weapons of the Tau could destroy the hive capital's walls and cannons within 30 minutes.
Imperial technology was so barbaric, primitive, and backward that it was completely powerless when facing true civilization.
Hassan felt ashamed of the pride he had once held for the backward Human Imperium and regretted not joining the Tau Empire sooner.
The technological level of the Human Imperium was incomparable to that of the Tau Empire.
The most convincing evidence was the pulse carbine in Hassan's hands. It was lighter and smoother than the Imperial lasgun.
The ergonomically designed grip fit perfectly in the palm, and the scope automatically sensed the user's gaze and adjusted focus.
He wore layered armor. It was a lightweight type of armor that could effectively resist live ammunition.
It weighed half as much as Imperial flak armor, yet offered three times the protection.
From the earpiece transceiver came the voices of his teammates discussing their comrades who had been deceived by the Corpse Emperor.
The Manta transport had landed three hours earlier.
It had glided smoothly through the sky like a real manta ray gliding across the sea, gently landing in this temporarily cleared area.
The landing was smooth and quiet, in stark contrast to the rough landings of Imperial attack helicopters.
Hassan still vividly remembered the feeling of his first ride on a gunship.
The roar of the engines had made his head spin, the interior was as hot as an oven, and the seats were so hard that his bones ached.
The impact during landing could shift a person's internal organs.
At the time, he had thought that was normal in war and that soldiers had to endure all of it.
That was until he boarded a Tau Empire vehicle.
Quiet, stable, comfortable.
He could even take a nap during flight. The difference was immeasurable.
Hassan looked around and thought to himself.
The meeting place with the Imperial officials was chosen more than 10 kilometers away from Charonchao.
The Imperial army had cut down all the trees within a 300-meter radius and used heavy machinery to level the ground, creating a flat open area.
However, the ground was still muddy. After all, it was the rainy season.
A plastic mesh had been laid in the center of the open space, forming a path leading to the negotiation table.
Signal lights flashed around the makeshift landing platform.
Meanwhile, the Imperial negotiation team approached from the direction of the hive.
They were a group of people in luxurious robes, followed by guards in simple clothing, but they were no match for the Tau Empire's auxiliary forces like Hassan.
The guards had their faces covered by helmets, but Hassan could feel them staring at him.
Their gazes were filled with surprise and pure, unadulterated hatred, as if they wanted to tear him apart.
Hassan paid no attention to the gazes around him and lightly rubbed the grip of his pulse carbine. He had been stared at like this many times before.
In the Imperial army, punishment for traitors was always the harshest.
Hanging, burning at the stake, or worse—being handed over to the Adeptus Mechanicus and turned into a mindless mechanical servant.
He had once hated his compatriots who betrayed the Imperium and sided with xenos, but after various experiences, he came to understand.
In the heat of battle, when the Fire Warrior squad broke through their position, the Imperial commander had abandoned the soldiers who were still fighting without hesitation.
Hassan's comrades were mostly killed or wounded, and their bodies were devoured by the Kroot.
Hassan himself lay on the ground, waiting for death.
A Fire Warrior in charge of post-battle site verification found him still breathing amid the pile of corpses.
They requested medical assistance, and medical personnel pulled Hassan back from the brink of death.
The Tau Empire gave Hassan two choices.
The first was to die for the Emperor and obtain what humans called glory.
The second was to join the Tau Empire and survive as an auxiliary force.
Hassan chose to live.
All living beings want to live. That was the truth.
"Lord Glencoe."
A gentle voice interrupted Hassan's thoughts.
He turned his face and saw Plutonium Noha, the Water Caste diplomatic envoy, walking toward the Imperial officials.
Plutonium Noha was a typical member of the Water Caste—slender build, pale blue skin, soft features, and difficult to distinguish gender.
Wearing the Water Caste's characteristic robes, she moved with light steps. Each step seemed meticulously calculated—neither too fast nor too slow, exactly the right pace.
She stepped into the empty space. At the negotiation table in the center of the square, she gave a slight bow to the Imperial official standing opposite her.
That Imperial bureaucrat, Lord Glencoe, was a middle-aged man with an obese build.
He wore a long robe embroidered with gold thread and a necklace symbolizing his status around his neck.
His face was red, though it was hard to tell whether from anger or from walking too much.
"It is a great honor to meet you," Plutonium Noha said. "I am Plutonium Noha, diplomatic envoy of the Water Caste. Please lay down your weapons and join us."
"The Greater Good will bring a bright future to those who have the will to believe in it."
"This is a new way of life. Everyone is bound by dreams, bringing a better new way to the galaxy and the universe."
"The galaxy will ultimately belong to the Greater Good—that is, the Tau Empire."
"I sincerely hope that you, like the human guards who came here with me today, will share in this glory."
She turned slightly to the side and pointed at Hassan and the other human guards.
"They are already enjoying these things."
Lord Glencoe's gaze turned back to Hassan. His eyes were still filled with contempt and hatred.
Hassan sneered, straightened his back, gripped the pulse carbine in his hands, and smiled.
During the years I served in the Imperial army, the food was terrible, the equipment was primitive, and I was constantly in danger of becoming cannon fodder.
I watched my comrades die without even being given time to grieve.
He felt that he had been incredibly foolish. He should have joined the Tau Empire much earlier.
If those Imperial bureaucrats and soldiers could personally experience what life in the Tau Empire was like,
they would never hate themselves like this. On the contrary, they would show envy.
Unfortunately, the Imperial propaganda machine had deceived them.
The Human Imperium portrayed the Tau Empire as a living hell, claiming that traitors who defected to the Tau were arbitrarily enslaved, given as food to alien races, and lived without any human rights.
The reality was the complete opposite.
The time Hassan spent in the Tau Empire was the most dignified and comfortable period of his life.
The future of the galaxy belongs to the Tau Empire.
In contrast to that corrupt and decadent Human Imperium that treated its citizens as disposable resources.
The process by which the Tau Empire would replace the Human Imperium might take hundreds of years, or even longer.
However, the rise of the Tau Empire is an irreversible trend.
Just as the tide will eventually wash over the shore, and dawn will eventually dispel the darkness, everything is predetermined, and no one can stop it.
…
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