Amon stood up and began pacing around the room, thinking as the floorboards creaked under his steps. The sounds from the other guests in the inn faded into the background, no longer disturbing his ears.
And lastly, the most unbelievable thought. A different galaxy. Does immaterium exist in other galaxies? If it does, then why has no one ever entered it through the warp sea? The sea. Warp is often compared to the sea for a reason.
Symbolism plays a significant role in everything related to the world created by the minds and emotions of countless mortals. What if immaterium really is an ocean, but not an endless one, rather one confined by shores—what then? A fish lives in the water, no matter where it goes—the water is all around. The fish has no idea that beyond its existence, there is something else.
But then, it meets a dangerous predator. The fish darts away like a silver flash, trying to save its primitive life. It leaps out of the water, escaping the pursuer. The fish expects that its short flight will be followed by the familiar environment, that the sea will once again embrace it.
But its hopes are dashed. The sea, now engulfed by a storm, rages violently, raising massive waves. One of them scoops up the fish and hurls it ashore. It could be smashed against the hard ground. It could suffocate, helplessly moving its dried-out gills. But the fish has monstrous luck, one chance in a billion. The wave throws it into a puddle, a ditch, or a stream.
The fish regains consciousness, and what does it see? It seems like everything is the same—there's water all around again. But there are slight differences. A different oxygen content, a different salinity, different inhabitants. In the sea, a fleeting glimmer of light signals death in the jaws of an anglerfish, but here, small harmless creatures attract mates. The fish flinches from the tentacles of an anemone, not realizing they're just colorful seaweed, swaying in the gentle current.
The fish must adapt; it must learn to play by new rules. And it will, Chaos take me! I will become the biggest fish in this stagnant pond. It's too shallow for me. I'll find a way to get out of here, back to the endless ocean, where a mutant is a mutant and an Unborn is an Unborn!
Amon froze in the center of the room, illuminated by an unexpected thought.
There, in the gray desert, I didn't meet a demon. The fish was wrong. But who? What if the creature wasn't mad after all, but followed the strange, twisted logic of this world?
Amon realized he was thinking about the Fallen Goddess with a strange mix of disdain and respect.
Nevertheless, it turned out to be smarter. It acted wisely and flexibly. To adapt so quickly, to twist out of an unexpected situation—it was worth a lot! And with the contract, it outplayed me too, tangled me up, confused me. I could have bargained better. And that trick with the girl's form...
A Space Marine subconsciously doesn't perceive a woman as an equal. He doesn't expect any tricks—could a girl outsmart him in wit and cunning? Did she know this? Maybe.
Amon realized that the mistake wasn't his fault. Yes, he had rushed a bit, but most likely, the Fallen Goddess had simply played on his weaknesses. He ran his palm over his body, brushing away the annoying insects, and continued to think.
The creature wielded magic—strange, disgusting, but effective enough. And clearly not human. Even warp sorcery, in comparison, seemed understandable and logical. And the spatial prison, the lustful mutants? The shark? No, that couldn't be ignored.
The Fallen Goddess told the truth, perhaps not all of it, but the truth. It was indeed a local god or demon—depends on how you look at it. Gods and demons love to swap places, depending on which side they're on at the moment. On ours—a god, on theirs—demons…
What an amusing deity, I must say. Feeding on copulation! Some sort of truncated version of Slaanesh, the absurdity of this alien world was either irritating or amusing. I wonder if there's a Tzeentch, Nurgle, and Khorne here? We'll find out soon... But let's get back to the magic.
The shopkeeper mentioned a school in the east. That means it's accessible to humans too. As a son of Magnus, born in the heart of civilization on Tizke, it won't be a problem for me to figure out local sorcery.
'And then, we'll see if I'm obligated to honor the contract!' Amon smirked darkly. 'Maybe magic will help me get home. Maybe I'll get the necessary information from the Fallen Goddess, but magic won't hurt me.'
Great, I've figured out the next step. What problems might I encounter on the way? People? Judging by the pirates, they won't cause any serious trouble. Monsters are a whole other story.
Yeah… Beautiful women, all handpicked. With instincts instead of brains, though they've created primitive societies and kingdoms. Their appearance is an evolutionary adaptation for reproduction, since they only give birth to girls.
Amon shuddered. He had realized in the shop what the sea mutant wanted, but at that moment, he didn't want to dwell on it. Disgusting.
The contract prevents me from directly harming the monsters. And, Chaos, it works! It's terrifying to think about what would've happened to me if I hadn't thought to put a sack over her head or swam a little slower.
'I need an assistant,' the sorcerer said aloud. 'There are too many monsters, and encounters with them are inevitable. Keep running? That doesn't work for me. Besides, I could fall into an ambush or be surrounded. No. I need a person, experienced and skilled enough to protect me from these lustful creatures, a mercenary—for now. Then, mastering the local magic. And deciding what to do with the contracsfds… ugh, what is thkdss?!'
His mouth suddenly felt tight. He barely managed to say the last sentence, which came out lisping and unclear. Amon moved his jaw. His teeth touched sensitive flesh. He stuck out his tongue. Instead of a narrow, serpentine tip, a wide, fleshy appendage protruded.
Amon felt it with his fingers and felt cold sweat trickling down his back. A tongue is a tongue. A perfectly normal tongue. Human.