Chapter 45.5: Diary of Dr. Muroid (side story) [Part 3]
The Diary of Dr. Muroid
Second Page – A Conversation Beyond Mortals
'14th Lunaris (January)'
The King had only sought me out on rare occasions.
Normally, it would be the other way around.
It was I who approached him.
To bring reports.
To seek guidance.
To witness the workings of his boundless mind.
But today was different.
He had called for me.
And so, as I entered the grand chamber of his sanctum—its walls lined with celestial maps, its floor embedded with the gears of worlds long conquered—I felt the weight of something greater pressing down on me.
I bowed the moment his golden gaze fell upon me.
"Yes, sir? What is it that you seek from me?"
His silhouette, cast against the eternal glow of the Aetheric Forge, barely moved.
Then, his voice—calm, unshaken, yet carrying the authority of creation itself—spoke:
"Dr. Muroid… If there was a mortal that had the will to challenge me, which of the God Engines do you think would be the first on the battlefield?"
His question baffled me.
The Demon King of Salvation did not ask such things.
He did not ponder on 'what ifs'.
He did not entertain the impossible.
For to stand against him was not a matter of will.
It was a matter of inevitability.
Still, I answered, my voice steady despite the uncertainty blooming in my mind.
"Sir… I would think Ashoka shall fight for your will."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
He turned to face me fully, his gaze piercing through the veil of time itself.
Ashoka – The God Engine of Dominion
"Ashoka… Yes."
"A warrior without equal."
"A blade sharper than all others."
"A mind that does not waver."
"And yet, do you think that is enough?"
His question lingered in the air, pressing against me like the weight of a dying star.
I hesitated.
"Sir, if I may be so bold… is there something that concerns you?"
The King did not answer immediately.
Instead, he gestured toward the grand map of the multiverse that stretched across the chamber—a construct of raw cosmic energy, each swirling star a fragment of reality, each glowing line a thread of fate.
"There is always something that concerns me, Dr. Muroid."
"But today, I speak of something more… pressing."
"The I.S.S.
"The mortals who believe themselves the architects of balance."
"They are coming."
"And though they are blind to the truth… they are not without their weapons."
I felt a chill crawl up my spine.
"You believe they will bring something that can challenge you?"
The King let out a low hum, not of concern, but of amusement.
"No. They cannot challenge me. That is beyond them."
"But I do wonder…"
"If they send something great enough… will my children answer in kind?"
My mind raced.
Was this a test?
A philosophical inquiry?
Or was it genuine curiosity?
For the first time in centuries, I saw something in the King's gaze that I had never seen before.
Not worry.
Not fear.
But a faint, flickering ember of anticipation.
As if he was not simply preparing for battle—
But waiting for something far greater.
A true challenge.
And the God Engines…
They would be the ones to answer it.
—
The War to Come
Somewhere beyond the halls of the King's sanctum, deep in the forges of creation, Ashoka stirred.
He did not yet know why.
But soon—
He would be summoned.
And when the time of war arrived—
He would be the first to step forward.
The Diary of Dr. Muroid
Third Page – The Three Sisters of Battle
23rd Frostmere (February)
A long, long time ago, when the King first sought me out, I was afraid.
Not merely out of respect.
Not merely because of his status—for I had counseled emperors, warlords, and gods alike.
But because of what he was.
And more importantly—what he was capable of.
Many have sought my wisdom throughout the eons. Some called me the Herald of Wisdom, others the Architect of Innovation.
I have built weapons capable of reducing galaxies to ruin.
I have constructed citadels that stand defiant against entropy itself.
I have reshaped the very fabric of existence in the name of progress.
But the King—
He was different.
He did not want mindless slaughter.
He did not seek soulless, golden killers.
Where others sought obedience, he demanded purpose.
And so—together, we created the Primarchs.
Twenty godlike war machines.
Each clad in the finest armor.
Each forged in the furnaces of war.
Each molded into warriors of absolute perfection.
They were to be the pinnacle of the God Engines.
And yet—despite my own hand in their creation—they scared me.
Not because they would rebel.
Not because they would falter.
But because they were absolute.
The Primarchs were not just machines.
They were warlords.
Conquerors.
Behemoths of war.
They did not tire.
They did not waver.
For they were made for war.
They were war itself.
But even with the twenty Primarchs, the King's designs were not yet complete.
For on the 23rd of Frostmere, in the second month of the year, I asked him a question that had weighed on my mind for centuries.
And his answer—
It still haunts me.
The King's Answer – The Tale of Three Sisters
It was in his grand sanctum, as always, surrounded by the hum of the God Engine forges.
The air crackled with energy, the scent of burning metal and ozone thick in my lungs.
I stood before him, my hands clasped behind my back, my voice steady despite the unease coiling in my stomach.
"Sir, if I may be so bold to ask a question."
His golden gaze turned toward me—sharp, unreadable.
"Then ask."
A simple command.
But one that always made my pulse quicken.
I inhaled deeply.
"Why create the Three Sisters of Battle? They are powerful individuals, but we already had twenty Primarchs. So I wonder—why did you forge three more?"
For a moment, he was silent.
Then, something unexpected happened.
He chuckled.
A deep, knowing sound.
"You ask a good question, Muroid."
"But to answer you, I will tell you a story."
He turned, gazing into the vast celestial map that hung in the chamber—a living, pulsing network of stars, worlds, and realms.
And then, he began.
The Story of the Three Sisters
"Once, in an age long forgotten, there were three little sisters."
"They were not like the others."
"The first sister was small, fragile, weak—compared to her kin."
"She was mocked by the others, for she lacked the raw strength they wielded."
"The second sister was brilliant. She crafted weapons that no one else could imagine. But because she did not fight, she too was dismissed."
"The third sister… she was the strongest of them all. But because she fought not for conquest, but for something greater, she was seen as a failure."
"Yet, in the time of greatest need, when the great beasts of the Abyss arose, when the heavens themselves trembled—"
"It was not the greatest warriors who saved the world."
"Not the champions who had spent their lives in battle."
"It was the three sisters."
"The first, who had learned to endure, stood unbroken when all others fell."
"The second, who had learned to create, forged weapons that could slay the unslayable."
"And the third, who had learned to fight for a purpose, led them both to victory."
"Together, they did what the greatest warriors could not."
"They did not fight for conquest."
"They did not fight for war."
"They fought for something far greater."
The Truth Behind the Tale
He turned back to me, his gaze piercing, as if testing whether I truly understood.
"And so, I created the Three Sisters of Battle."
"Because not all wars are won by strength."
"Not all victories are earned by steel alone."
"The Primarchs are my champions of war."
"But the Three Sisters—"
"They are my answer to something far greater."
I felt a cold weight settle in my chest.
Because at that moment—
I realized something terrifying.
The King did not create without reason.
The Three Sisters of Battle
• The First Sister – The Enduring One
• The weakest of them all—yet the one who will outlast the rest.
• The Second Sister – The Creator of Destruction
• The mind that forges weapons even the gods fear.
• The Third Sister – The Unbreakable Blade
• The warrior who does not fight for conquest, but for something greater.
(A/N: War hammer 40k reference, heh:D)
And so, I left the chamber that night—
With a mind full of questions.