"Ah! It's been so long since I woke up naturally! My own bed is so comfortable!" In the early morning, Alex slowly awoke from the soft covers, feeling a long-lost sense of ease in his grogginess.
He stretched his somewhat stiff body, letting out a long, satisfying yawn, every joint making a soft, contented sound.
In his sleepy haze, he couldn't help but shout, his voice exceptionally loud in the quiet bedroom.
However, when he rubbed his blurry eyes and fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, the glaring screen showed it was only six o'clock in the morning.
Alex immediately slumped back onto his pillow like a deflated ball, letting out a wail: "By the Emperor's holy ass! How many hours did I even sleep?!"
Unwilling, Alex turned his head to look at the window beside him, struggling to get up and pull open the curtains.
A cool morning breeze brushed his cheeks through the screen, the sky outside was just beginning to lighten, with only a sliver of dawn appearing on the eastern horizon, and distant buildings were still shrouded in a hazy morning mist.
A few early birds hopped on the branches, chirping crisply.
Seeing this scene, Alex showed a helpless, bitter smile.
He fell heavily back onto the bed, burying his face in the soft pillow, trying to find sleep again.
But at this moment, his brain was unusually clear, as if completely awakened by the morning coolness; no matter how he tossed and turned, sleep just wouldn't return.
During the 40k era, although he was a Planetary Governor, theoretically he could indulge in luxury and lead a depraved life—if he wanted to, a life of debauchery and excess would not be difficult, after all, the entire planet was his territory, and resources were inexhaustible.
But when it came to sleep, Alex could only manage to sleep for three or four hours each day.
Whether it was the complex political affairs or various war-related matters, they devoured his time like greedy beasts.
He had to wring out every minute of himself, like a precise machine.
Because of this, he had to align himself with certain Imperial bureaucrats, relying on drugs to stay awake.
His desk drawer was always stocked with various stimulating agents; whenever fatigue washed over him like a tide, he had to inject himself with a stimulant to maintain focus and ensure his decisions were error-free.
In the Imperium, this was not uncommon at all.
The Rejuvenation Warlock specifically assigned to Alex, besides being skilled in using biotechnology to repair his physical injuries, had one of their most important daily duties: ensuring he could complete all his work in optimal condition.
They would precisely prepare potions, monitor his physiological indicators, and even forcibly inject nutrients when he was over-exhausted, allowing him to continue to endure.
And in this process, using drugs was perfectly normal.
The Imperium had an extremely rich selection in this regard—from mild neural stimulants to potent adrenaline derivatives, and even illicit drugs that directly acted on the cerebral cortex, allowing people to burst with extraordinary concentration for a short period.
Of course, not only stimulants, the Imperium also developed various sleep aids, ensuring rulers like Alex could enter deep sleep in the shortest possible time, even if only for half an hour, allowing him to barely recover some energy.
These drugs focused on "letting you sleep when you want to, and wake up when you want to," perfectly aligning with the Imperium's extreme pursuit of efficiency.
However, physical fatigue might be alleviated by drugs, but mental exhaustion was not so easy to eliminate.
Long-term high pressure, the burden of decision-making, and endless responsibilities were eroding his will little by little.
Otherwise, the High Lord of the Imperium wouldn't have died one after another from exhaustion at their posts.
Similarly, this also made Alex's sleep in the 40k era a complete mess; there was no talk of any sleep quality.
Those fragmented shallow sleeps, drug-induced forced sleeps, and rests that could be interrupted by emergency communications at any time had long disrupted his biological clock.
He originally thought that after returning to the 3k era, he could finally escape the endless political and war pressures and enjoy a good, undisturbed sleep.
But who would have thought that even after returning to the familiar environment of the 3k era, he would automatically wake up after only a few hours, as if the imprint of "only worthy of this much rest time" had been carved deep into his soul.
Undoubtedly, this feeling was very tormenting.
His body was exhausted, yet his brain stubbornly refused to continue sleeping; he knew there were no urgent matters to attend to, yet his nerves remained taut, as if a battle report could arrive at any second.
Even if Alex could use psychic powers to force himself into a coma, that artificial, unnatural sleep made him even more uncomfortable.
Eventually, he gave up struggling and chose to get up.
Mechanically changing into a set of sportswear, he planned to go out for a run, using the most primitive method to completely wake himself up.
After all, this was not the 40k era; this unenhanced ordinary body could not withstand the 40k-style abuse, and he had no Rejuvenation Warlock by his side to inject him with various needles.
Without those precisely formulated potions, without a medical team on standby, he could only rely on the most primitive "earth methods"—exercise, cold water, coffee—to combat his body's instincts.
This sudden "primitive feeling" made him both helpless and amused, like a sailor accustomed to interstellar travel suddenly forced to paddle a dugout canoe.
But Alex was forcing himself to adapt to all of this.
He gritted his teeth, using willpower to fight against his body's instinctive reactions, because he had to make himself clear—the 3k era was his foundation, and everything in 40k was just a false dream.
He repeatedly admonished himself in his heart: no matter how real that dream was, no matter how deeply etched those memories were, it was ultimately just an illusion.
He would not allow himself to wallow in the shadows of that world, nor would he allow himself to fall into the abyss of that cruel era, unable to extricate himself.
With such firm resolve, he began his morning run.
However, this unenhanced 3k era body was clearly unable to adapt to sudden strenuous exercise.
After running less than two hundred meters, his lungs burned with pain, his heart pounded wildly in his chest, and his legs felt as heavy as lead.
He had to stop, bending over by the roadside, clutching his stomach and gasping for air, fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Just then, Liu Yi also came out for his usual morning run.
He noticed Alex's distressed appearance from afar and immediately quickened his pace, running over.
Liu Yi's face was full of concern; he gently patted Alex's back to help him catch his breath, while anxiously asking, "Are you alright? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
His voice conveyed genuine worry, and his gaze constantly scrutinized Alex's pale face.
Note:
Happy Lunar New Year 2026!
First of all, I want to express my sincere gratitude to all of you for always being by my side and supporting me throughout this journey.
To ensure the quality of upcoming stories, I've decided to take a week off during the Lunar New Year (February 15th to 22nd) to rest and spend time with my family.
I will return on February 23rd, 2026. During this break, I will prepare many new chapters to post regularly upon my return. So please look forward to it!
Wishing you a warm, joyful, and wonderful holiday season!