"Hmph? Those strange runes on Erebus' face? Ancient chants of the Davin lodges?"
Zhou Yun's eye twitched slightly as an ominous feeling crept over him. He quickly flipped to the next page—
Bang!
After just a glimpse of the text, Zhou Yun snapped the notebook shut.
Sure enough, the next page was covered in twisted, abstract Davinite hieroglyphs. Just one glance at them made Zhou Yun feel a wave of dizziness.
"What's wrong?" Mong noticed Zhou Yun's strange behavior.
Zhou Yun merely shook his head, his expression taut.
"They are indeed chants passed between the warrior lodges on Davin," said the winged figure in the white light, his tone low, tinged with disgust and contempt—as though those runes were some kind of blasphemous filth.
Davin—the world where Horus was corrupted. The humans there, tainted by Chaos, had become like beasts. Their dark warrior lodges and Chaos priests worshipped the fell powers of the warp, and learned many obscene secrets.
Ignace Karkasy had been courting disaster, recording those Davinite chants.
That was close—Zhou Yun almost got himself killed across ten millennia by this guy.
A bead of sweat rolled down his brow.
Probably that division head of the Corpse Guild was corrupted after deciphering part of these chants.
Thinking this, Zhou Yun tore those few pages of pale yellow paper covered in Davinite runes straight out of the notebook and tossed them to the ground.
The twelve lasguns suspended around him by his telekinesis trained on the papers and fired in unison.
Only when the charred ashes of those blasphemous pages crumbled did Zhou Yun finally breathe easier.
Seeing Zhou Yun's bizarre behavior, Mong and Markit exchanged glances.
"It's nothing—just some filthy stuff on those pages," Zhou Yun said, shaking his head.
"Filthy?" Mong looked curious. "How filthy?"
"Very filthy. Like those gutter rumors of Lion selling Russ," Zhou Yun muttered in disgust at the ashes.
Mong's eyelid twitched at Zhou Yun's casual blasphemy. Even as a mutant, he couldn't help but feel this man should be strapped to a pyre.
He glanced at Markit, and saw his brother also looking speechless.
The two exchanged a look. Mong stepped forward and clapped Zhou Yun's shoulder.
"Brother, if one day you can't get by in the underhive, come down to the bottom hive. My brother and I have a bit of standing there."
Zhou Yun cast him a strange look. "What are you saying? I'm not a mutant. Why would I throw my life away like that?"
"But you're an apostate," Mong said seriously. "Damn it, even my brother and I together aren't as much of a heretic as you."
At that, Zhou Yun's brow furrowed deeply. He brushed Mong's hand off. "Don't slander me. My loyalty to humanity shines like the sun and moon. There is no second sun in the sky, and in my heart there is only the Emperor—a single, cold sun."
With righteous indignation, Zhou Yun looked at Mong and Markit.
"I wholeheartedly believe in this truth: Among the stars there are no gods, no supernatural phenomena, no magic or sorcery. Everything can be explained scientifically. Humanity, by the light of reason, can conquer all. Nothing should be worshipped. The rational galaxy must purge the backward concept of religion."
His voice was firm and strong, leaving Mong and Markit momentarily dumbfounded.
The two stared at each other, then burst out laughing.
"You really know how to tell a joke," Mong chuckled, shaking his head.
Even Markit couldn't help but sigh. "Who came up with that lie of a 'truth'? Such blasphemy and heresy."
In both the Ecclesiarchy and the secret cults hiding in the shadows, such theories would see you straight to the pyre.
After all, if there were no gods among the stars, then where did the Astronomican's light come from? What were those great beings in the warp? If there were no supernatural phenomena or sorcery, then what were the priests, psykers, and cultists doing? If everything could be explained scientifically, then why were both the warp and the material universe shrouded in mysteries? If humanity's reason alone could conquer everything, why did the Ecclesiarchy exist at all?
They couldn't help but laugh at this "truth," for every word flew in the face of reality.
"Yeah… who thought up such a preposterous lie?" Zhou Yun agreed, nodding.
The winged figure in the white light trembled faintly.
"Sigh… Imperial Truth…" he muttered with deep resentment.
Mong took a breath, still chuckling, and patted Zhou Yun's shoulder.
"Anyway, you be careful not to end up on the pyre. If things ever go bad, come down to the bottom hive and find me. We're all brothers there."
With that, he gave Zhou Yun's shoulder a friendly punch.
Zhou Yun merely shrugged.
Like hell he'd ever sink that low.
"I'd rather go to the bottom hive than this crap…"
Zhou Yun could barely keep his guts from churning, clutching his head and sitting down against a cargo train, watching Rag and a few gang members haul the three hundred autoguns away.
After parting with Mong and Markit after climbing out of Old Eight, he'd taken the cargo train back to this district.
Turns out, even without a hangover, that damned train was still torture.
He should've just gone with the Markit brothers to the bottom hive—at least he wouldn't have to ride this death trap again.
"Brother Zhou Yun, how about we go drink at the Spearhead tonight?" Rag clapped Zhou Yun on the back with a grin.
This shipment of autoguns had earned Zhou Yun a hefty sum, and no doubt Rag had skimmed a fair bit off the top too.
Zhou Yun nearly threw up then and there. He brushed Rag's hand away and shook his head.
"No. I'd rather puke on your face right now."
He rubbed his temple and stood up. Right now he just wanted to go home and sleep.
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]