Chapter 39: The Passage
"What are you talking about? How could I possibly know who the deceiver is?"
When Qin Mo mentioned the deceiver Mephitlan, the form of Metamorphosis fixated on him, its ever-shifting features revealing a profound confusion.
Qin Mo had anticipated that Metamorphosis might argue or even erupt in anger, but he never expected it to be utterly unaware of Mephitlan's identity.
Yet, this ignorance alone did not conclusively prove Metamorphosis's true identity, nor validate the veracity of its earlier claims.
No celestial being could possibly be ignorant of Mephitlan, who had once deceived the Deathbringers, the cosmic undead.
Mephitlan had even convinced the celestial beings that the most delectable essence in the universe was not the souls of sentient beings, but rather their own kind—other celestial beings.
Furthermore, the deceiver's ability to swindle was unrivaled across the cosmos; it could reach the pinnacle of trickery: to deceive even itself.
Qin Mo concluded that Metamorphosis was either Mephitlan itself or a fragment with fragmented memories, spouting truths intertwined with fabrications, perhaps even entirely falsehoods.
"I shall offer you two hints," Metamorphosis stabilized into a humanoid form, raising two fingers. "First, your strength is gradually returning; the longer this takes, the more advantageous it becomes for you."
"And the second?" Qin Mo inquired.
"Secondly, do not assume that by exterminating the worst of the vermin, the war will be over."
"Why do you say that?"
Though aware that Metamorphosis's words might be false, Qin Mo yearned to extract more information, if only as a reference.
"The planet you inhabit is being eroded; the gene stealers and you are but pawns in a vast game of power."
"I possess a certain foresight; I must warn you, be wary of the first person you encounter upon exiting the nest—they are a devotee of the foul god."
Metamorphosis's voice was as mutable as its form, yet its words were starkly clear.
While Qin Mo did not entirely trust what Metamorphosis said, he found commendable the fact that it was not a riddle-maker; this single attribute made it infinitely superior to the so-called oracles of the Spirit Clan.
"Thank you for your guidance; this hardly qualifies as a hint, but rather a clear answer. I will consider it accordingly," Qin Mo replied.
"You will realize I speak the truth; I shall assist you in becoming the ruler over those humans, but you must atone for your past betrayals," Metamorphosis intently scrutinized Qin Mo's eyes, seeking a hint of remorse.
Yet, it found none.
Qin Mo pointed to his own head, saying, "You do realize I am still of human thought, not a vessel usurped by the so-called forger you mentioned, correct?"
"Indeed," Metamorphosis nodded.
"Then on what grounds should I atone? I was unwittingly thrust into this universe and equally bewildered to find myself fused with a celestial being; I have never crafted weapons for the Deathbringers," Qin Mo chuckled.
"No, no, no… that reasoning is flawed," Metamorphosis vehemently shook its head.
"Farewell. Please notify me before you invade my mind again," Qin Mo waved at Metamorphosis, voluntarily withdrawing from the dreamscape it had constructed.
Upon awakening, Qin Mo's gaze fell upon the wall, lost in contemplation.
He felt he had been somewhat callous in front of Metamorphosis, yet he was acutely aware that within the Warhammer universe, most deities were far from benevolent.
Even if Metamorphosis was not a fragment of the deceiver, its words could not be wholly trusted; one must remain vigilant when engaging with such extraordinary entities.
*Knock, knock, knock—*
A series of knocks interrupted Qin Mo's thoughts, and he turned his attention to the door.
It creaked open slightly, revealing Klein, who peered in before entering upon seeing that Qin Mo was not engaged in research.
"Is something the matter?" Qin Mo asked.
"Do you have a moment? Shall we explore the passage leading out of the nest?" Klein inquired, producing a map.
It was a diagram he had drawn himself, illustrating the layout of the passage as he understood it.
"Of course." Qin Mo felt it was time to prepare for their departure from the nest.
...
A short while later, the transport craft descended slowly under the direction of ground personnel, settling into a designated area for vehicle parking.
With the war progressing remarkably well, they had now entered the phase of clearing the remaining insurgent forces, prompting the deployment of a regiment to secure the area surrounding the passage entrance, readying for the forthcoming excavation work.
As Qin Mo and Klein disembarked from the transport, they proceeded directly toward the passage.
They passed by the stronghold once established by the 44th regiment, a bastion that had stood firm through their efforts, now appearing dilapidated.
"This was originally slated for demolition," Klein remarked, gesturing toward the stronghold. "However, considering it was a place where you fought as a soldier, it shall remain preserved forever."
"Demolish it, then. I have no attachment to this place," Qin Mo replied nonchalantly.
He felt no sentimental connection to anything associated with the 44th regiment, as he had been merely a prisoner, subject to abuse, living in darkness at the outpost.
"When I was at the military academy, Bull was my classmate. What are your thoughts on him?" Klein asked with a smile.
"Remarkable—a truly exceptional fool; only those ignored by the Emperor would serve under him," Qin Mo remarked instinctively.
Klein nodded, a look of agreement evident on his face.
The two continued onward, entering a colossal man-made structure soaring thousands of meters high.
This edifice resembled a gargantuan checkpoint, with a passage wide enough to accommodate the forces of four regiments, cluttered with abandoned equipment and instruments.
In the center of the passage lay an endless railway, with cars large enough to house a Lehmann-Rust tank.
This was a newly constructed line, crafted by logistics machinery under the control of a central intelligence.
The central intelligence deemed it essential to eventually descend into the nest; hence, to ensure the supply of resources, it had erected this railway.
Qin Mo and Klein boarded the train to continue their journey.
After traversing approximately ten kilometers, the train arrived at the end of the line.
As Qin Mo and Klein alighted, a figure clad in the elite power armor of the Imperial Guard approached them—Anrida, a scribe not fond of warfare, had arrived early to oversee the forthcoming excavation of the passage.
"As we can see, opening this passage will not be a trivial task," Anrida remarked.
Qin Mo lifted his gaze, taking in the scene before him.
The vast passage had been entirely obstructed, surpassing even the size of the checkpoint, measuring two thousand meters in height and a staggering seven thousand meters in width.
"The engineering feats of antiquity never cease to amaze; we, the descendants, scarcely comprehend why such grand passages were constructed," Klein spread his map upon the ground.
"Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of years ago, this nest may have served as a munitions factory, employing technologies we have long forgotten to construct colossal war machines," Qin Mo mused as he surveyed the surroundings.