Emrys' vision was plunged into darkness, as if he had sunk into a cold abyss, his body numb and stiff.
In a daze, it was as if a cold, pale Sun, radiating dazzling brilliance like a shimmering star-ring, was fixed in the pitch-black void.
His eyelids were as heavy as if weighed down by locks, and his head throbbed with a dull ache, like a hangover.
It took him a long time to finally open his eyes.
"Where... is this?" He looked around, bewildered.
The dark, damp alleyway was piled high with putrid garbage.
Above, a dense, crisscrossing network of pipes, like a spiderweb, completely obscured the Sun's light, and the oppressive air was filled with a pungent, foul odor!
The murky air was thick with a vast amount of dust and haze; a single breath made his lungs feel coated with grime.
"Cough, cough... cough, cough."
Emrys was extremely unaccustomed to such a harsh environment and coughed violently.
"I'm talking to you, you motherfucker, are you pretending to be deaf?!"
A brutal voice, like thunder, made his head buzz, instantly pulling his thoughts back.
He looked up, and what met his eyes was a fearsome face, a grotesque gash slicing diagonally across it, severing his brow bone and lip; as his face contorted in anger, it twisted like a worm, and his cold eyes gleamed with a crimson, savage look.
"Answer me you bitch!"
The scarfaced brute, without warning, raised his foot and kicked him in the chest like a heavy cannon.
Bang!
The immense force nearly knocked the wind out of Emrys.
He was sent flying backward, crashing heavily against a drainage pipe.
The pipe fractured from the impact, spewing out nauseating sewage, and an even more acrid smell permeated the air.
The brute stepped forward, placed a foot on Emrys, and then pressed a chipped knife directly against his throat.
"If you don't hand over three portions of supplies by tomorrow, I won't mind gutting you!" The brute bent down, his fierce and greedy eyes looking at him as if he were an animal: "Did you hear me, you brat? Don't make me repeat myself a third time!"
He looked at the knife at his throat, its edge chipped, stained with dark brown clots of dried blood.
Undoubtedly, the other party was a ruthless character who wouldn't bat an eye at killing, having taken countless lives!
Adhering to the principle that one must bow their head when under another's roof, Emrys took a deep breath and decisively said, "I'm sorry, I was wrong. I'll hand over the supplies on time tomorrow!"
The brute withdrew his knife, his gaze raking over Emrys fiercely, then spat a thick glob of phlegm to the side: "If it weren't for those bastards from the Iron Crows gang causing a shortage of men, I would have cut you down where you stand and feed you to my men!"
After delivering the threat, the brute turned and left, leaving Emrys alone in the dark, damp alley.
Returning from the brink of death instantly clarified Emrys' chaotic and stiff thoughts.
Immediately after, fragmented memories flooded into his brain like a tide, without any preamble!
The explosive pain felt as if someone had stabbed a chisel into his pituitary gland and violently stirred it. Emrys clenched his teeth tightly, veins bulging on his temples, struggling to suppress any sound.
Deep breaths, deep breaths. Fortunately, the intense pain came and went quickly.
Once he had recovered, Emrys removed the shoddy gas mask from his face and looked at the densely arranged pipes overhead, the last shred of hope in his eyes vanished!
It wasn't all or naught, for he was reborn in Terra.
His soul must have waited a lot in whatever afterlife there was because... it was Holy Terra.
40k Millenium!
The 'k' wasn't a gramatical error! It represented how utterly fucked he was! A thousand times over!
This was the Warhammer Universe!
A Universe where all races, in their struggle for survival, were driven to utter hysteria!
Here, there was extreme militarism, lunatics, fanatics, extreme xenophobia, and a host of other elements that made this a terrifying universe, enough to deter even the vast armies of transmigration novels.
War was the Eternal theme of this Universe.
Every life existing in this universe was like fish swimming in a cesspool, not competing to see who could swim further, but to see who would choke first.
Although he couldn't see his own face, Emrys was certain.
To put it in Gen Z terms, he looked like he was straight-up tweaking.
The original owner of this body was named Emrys, a scavenger in the lower hive of a hive city planet within the Imperium of Man's dominion.
In simple terms, he was essentially a bottom-tier trash collector.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"All I wanted was have a mouthful of gauze and a prescription for Tylenol," he muttered to the pavement. "I was promised a nap and a milkshake, not a one-way ticket to the 'Get Murdered by Chaos Gods' dimension. This is the worst dental insurance ever."
Had he committed some heinous, unforgivable act in his previous life?
What kind of damned tooth extraction could transport him to the Warhammer Universe?
But grumbling was just grumbling; after venting, and once his emotions had slightly improved, Emrys ultimately had no choice but to accept reality.
The brute from earlier was a member of a gang called the 'Hammer Skulls gang' in the lower hive, responsible for collecting protection fees from them.
In the Warhammer Universe, even if you were the lowest-tier trash collector, you still had to pay 'protection fees'.
However, recently, it was rumored that the Hammer Skulls and the Iron Crows , for some unknown reason, were fighting like dogs.
The Hammer Skulls suffered heavy casualties, which was why they had directly tripled the protection fees from the original amount!
Did anyone resist?
Naturally, some did, but without exception, they were all beheaded by the Hammer Skulls to warn others.
But, it was clear that Emrys, as a bottom-tier Scavenger, often went hungry for days, barely able to eat, so where would he find extra 'supplies' to hand over?
If he couldn't produce them, Emrys' fate would either be to be dragged off to feed the Hammer Skulls' gene-hounds, or... to be used as the next warning.
Driven to desperation, Emrys finally decided to risk going to the junkyard in the lower hive's southeast, within the Iron Crows' territory, planning to steal something.
However, his luck was terrible. Just as he found something that seemed very valuable, Emrys ran into members of the Iron Crows talking with a person clad in a black robe. He couldn't hear very clearly due to the distance, but he vaguely heard words like 'skull' and 'sacrifice'.
Then, Emrys was discovered!
The person in the black robe merely gave him a look, and he felt a splitting headache, as if there were twisted, evil, chaotic whispers.
It felt as if a thousand red-hot steel needles were violently plunged into his brain and fiercely stirred.
In unbearable pain, Emrys, clinging to a thread of sanity, escaped that junkyard, until he reached this alley, where his soul was completely crushed.
When Emrys woke up again, his soul had already been swapped with that of a young man from the 2K era.
"Well, I am still Emrys, so nothing changed" Emrys murmured, the memories of both fusing, no longer distinguishing between them.
He lowered his head and looked at the tattered bag at his waist.
Inside it was the 'thing' his previous self had risked his life for. He opened the dirty, torn bag and saw a wristwatch.
The watch strap was corroded by the external environment, the metal covered in rust, and the connections were almost broken. The watch face, moreover, was caked with a layer of filthy black grime.
"Can this thing cover the protection fees?"
A few black lines crossed Emrys' forehead. This thing would probably be left on the ground unwanted; if he really tried to pawn it, he'd likely be chopped up and fed to dogs on the spot.
However, since it was something his previous self had risked his life for, throwing it away would be too disrespectful.
"God help me... no, God-Emperor help me!"
Clinging to a last shred of hope, Emrys dabbed his sleeve in the sewage and then carefully, gently wiped away the grime from the watch face.
Once the black grime was removed, an exquisite watch face was revealed.
Emrys looked at the watch face and was immediately astonished by its intricate and complex internal structure. Countless gears of various sizes interlocked, and an artistic beauty filled the machinery. The outer bezel, instead of time digits, bore engravings he couldn't understand at all.
"What exactly is this thing?"
As Emrys stared at the intricate watch face, lost in thought, the watch face suddenly underwent a transformation!
Clickety-clack.
The previously still watch face suddenly began to turn.
Amidst crisp and dull mechanical sounds, the countless gears in the center of the watch face rotated in sequence, then suddenly flipped to the other side.
The central watch face was deep black, as if inscribed with some kind of writing, which lit up in order.
A mechanical voice sounded in Emrys' mind.
[Esteemed Traveler, would you like to proceed to a new planet?]
[Beep, beep, beep, warning! Insufficient energy!]
[Current reserve... 0.1 standard units]
[Cross-dimensional device activation requires 100 standard units of energy!]
[Loading!]
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
[Traveler: Emrys]
[Race: Human]
[Faction: Imperium of Man]
[Profession: Scavenger]
[Anchor planet: None]
[Remaining Energy: 0.1 Units]
Emrys, pondering the voice in his mind, was drawn to the panel before him.
He tried to wave his hand through it, but it passed right through; the 'panel' seemed to exist only in his vision.
"Thanks to the Emperor for his blessing!"
Listening to the voice in his mind, Emrys was moved to tears, almost fainting from emotion.
This must be the standard for a transmigrator, his own personal cheat!
"The Emperor has shown his divine power!"
Emrys clenched the dial, performing the Aquila sign with somewhat unfamiliar movements.
Regardless of whether it worked, sincerity was key. Besides, what if the Emperor really could see him?
After the initial joy, Emrys discovered that there seemed to be insufficient energy, and the 'dial' once again dimmed.
"Does 'going to a new world' mean going to other universes?" Emrys gazed at the 'dial' in his hand, recalling the voice that appeared in his mind when he first activated it: "100 units of energy, but right now I don't even know how to calculate 1 unit of energy."
Alright, he had a cheat, but the problem now was how to get 100 units of energy?
"A scavenger shouldn't have absolutely no savings, right? Right?"
Clutching his only hope, Emrys searched through his predecessor's memories, only to be greatly disappointed.
Forget about finding loot, there wasn't even a single hair left. No wonder he often starved three days out of seven!
Moreover, the Hammer Skulls were not to be trifled with!
What's more, this was the Warhammer Universe. Although there were laws in the hive capital, they were only for the middle-hive and the upper-hive.
As for the dregs of the lower hive, whether they lived or died was completely outside the consideration of the planetary governor and the noble lords.
The hive city planet was a unique and striking sight in warhammer.
Its external structure resembled a tall tower, divided into three areas: Upper Hive, Middle Hive, and Lower Hive. Some hive city planets had settlements outside, but this Planet had an extremely harsh climate, so it clearly didn't.
The upper hive was the area where nobles, Imperial officials, Ecclesiarchy priests, and similar individuals resided.
The Middle Hive generally housed commoners with legitimate jobs, families of the PDF, or retired Astra Militarum members, and so on.
As for the lower hive, that was truly 'colorful', like a massive recycling plant.
Whether it was wastewater, domestic waste, industrial residue, or even criminals, all would be exiled here, making it a place teeming with 'talent'.
The lower hive saw no sunlight, only a sky-darkening haze and pungent industrial exhaust. Radiation permeated everywhere.
The harsh living environment naturally bred gangs, and the Hammer Skulls was one of them.
He looked at the spiderweb-like array of pipes and the alleys piled high with garbage. In his mind, he saw the Hammer Skulls' scar-faced man, a cruel grin on his face, stepping on him, looking down as if at an animal. A fire gradually ignited within him.
Why should he be the one trampled underfoot?!
Everyone was human, so why should he be treated like an animal, trodden upon, just because… the other held a knife?
If so, then why couldn't he be the one holding the knife!
Emrys' mindset subtly changed. This was the cruelty of the Warhammer Universe.
His goal was simple: to survive.
In this brutal Warhammer Universe, he would become the one who held the knife, not an animal to be slaughtered at will!
He tightly gripped the 'dial' and shifted his gaze to a gas mask discarded in the sewage nearby. A thought suddenly popped into his mind.
"This thing should be worth a lot of money."
Gas masks were essential equipment for Scavengers in the lower hive.
Otherwise, in many areas of the lower hive, the harsh environment and air filled with acid and radiation would directly burn human lungs. They wouldn't be able to operate for long before dropping dead.
Although the gas mask he was wearing looked no different from junk, almost on the verge of being scrapped.
But even so, in the lower hive's black market, it was still a hot commodity in short supply.
In fact, it was no exaggeration to say that, given the condition of this gas mask, it could at most be considered 'slightly worn'!
Emrys quickly finalized his plan, picked up the gas mask from the sewage, and then carefully placed the 'dial' inside his clothes.
"First, step one: get 100 units of energy!"
He vigorously rubbed his somewhat stiff face, took a deep breath of the dusty air, endured the severe pain in his abdomen, and slowly walked out of the alley, leaning against the wall.
Most of the black market vendors were scavs, primarily selling discarded items scavenged from landfills.
Of course, some good items from the upper hive were mixed in, but the probability was about the same as winning the lottery.
Emrys was wrapped in his robe, wearing a hood that completely obscured his features, to avoid being targeted.
Then, he found a stall and asked in a low voice, "Do you want a gas mask?"
The stall owner was a burly man with a full beard, wrapped in a crude cloak. His exposed left arm had been replaced with a metal prosthetic.
"Let's see the condition."
The stall owner looked up, sizing him up and down.
Emrys took out the gas mask and handed it over.
"The condition is very poor, almost scrap." The stall owner glanced at it and shook his head: "For a gas mask of this quality, I can only give you ten crowns."
"That's too low,"
Emrys saw that the other party was deliberately lowballing, and directly pulled the gas mask back: "You should know that the most important part of a gas mask is not the mask body, but its filter element. My filter element is still very new, at least one hundred crowns."
The common currency of the Imperium of Man was the Aquila coin, but such high-grade items were usually only used by nobles, merchants, or in advanced civilized planets.
Many remote and harsh worlds used locally issued currency, which varied.
And crowns were the common currency of this planet. Their value was roughly equivalent to copper coins, and ten crowns could buy a bowl of nutritious porridge.
The stall owner, whose intentions had been seen through, was not embarrassed. Haggling was normal in the lower hive; if he didn't have good judgment, he deserved bad luck.
But since he had been exposed, he simply didn't bother to waste time and said directly: "Replacing the mask body requires at least ten crowns. Seventy crowns, that's my bottom price."
Emrys thought for a moment, then nodded: "Okay, deal."
Although it was thirty crowns lower than expected, this gas mask was severely worn, and he was already satisfied to sell it for this price.
The stall owner pulled eight plastic banknotes, each with a face value of 10, from his pocket and handed them over.
"Wait, let me see what you're selling."
Emrys didn't take the money, squatting down to look at the stall.
"Alright, everything is here. If it's not enough, I can supplement it with nutritious porridge," the stall owner slowly said.
One serving of nutritious porridge, if eaten sparingly, could last seven days, making it a widely accepted common item among Scavengers.
Emrys looked down at the stall. What he lacked most now was something that could provide 'energy'.
He picked up a worn-out compressed battery, and the mechanical, stiff voice in the 'dial' immediately sounded in his mind.
[Item Detected: Fuel Cell (Inferior)]
[Crude craftsmanship, inferior low-grade battery, truly trash]
[Energy Provided: 3 Units]
This was an unexpected surprise!
The function of the 'dial' was far more than it seemed!
Emrys, without changing his expression, put down the Waste battery and picked up a gun with a sawn-off barrel next to it.
[Item Detected: Logging Gun (Inferior - Damaged)]
[The barrel is completely worn smooth, the firing pin is malfunctioning. It's not a bad thing to use for suicide]
[Energy Provided: 5 Units]
[Item Detected: Old-style Lasgun (Damaged)]
[Almost no sights, very suitable for use as a fire poker]
[Energy Provided: 3 Units]
Emrys' gaze swept around, finding almost nothing good. Just as he was about to give up, a copper piece he casually picked up changed his mind.
[Item Detected: Deflection Field Generator (Worn)]
[Close to damaged, can generate a deflection field near the user, barely escaping the category of trash]
[Energy Provided: 150 Units]
150 units of energy?!
If not for his reason timely reining in his emotions, Emrys would have probably shouted out in excitement.
A Deflection Field Generator—now that was a genuinely good item. Although he wasn't sure how strong its defense was, it could at least block bullets without a problem.
He really did stumble upon a treasure; the Emperor must be showing his divine power!
Despite his heart beating fast, Emrys maintained a look of disgust, a helpless expression on his face: "Everything here is basically trash."
"Nonsense. If it wasn't trash, would it be my turn to sell it?" The stall owner sneered, disdainfully saying, "Do you want it or not? If not, just convert it all into nutrient gruel."
"Forget it, I can't eat that much nutrient gruel."
Emrys shook his head, then feigned indecision. He finally picked out an old laser gun and a used battery, mixing in the copper piece, and said with a look of disappointment: "These things, plus three portions of nutrient gruel."
Although the stall owner saw the copper piece, he didn't care. These things were everywhere; who knew what kind of part it had fallen off of: "The market price for one portion of nutrient gruel is about ten crowns. The rest is my loss. If you have good stuff next time, remember to come find me again."
Loss?
That was a bit funny.
It was well-known that scavengers would eat dog shit off the street, but they would never take a loss.
But Emrys was too lazy to expose the other party, merely smiling and nodding: "Alright, if I have good stuff next time, I'll definitely come find you."
After packing up his things, he turned and left the black market.
The stall owner squeezed the gas mask, but his gaze was fixed on the direction Emrys had left, a thoughtful expression on his face.
After Emrys walked out of the black market, he wasn't in a hurry to go home.
Instead, he deliberately took a long detour. After confirming he wasn't being followed, in an uninhabited corner, he discarded the clothes and burned them completely with Fire.
After doing all this, he breathed a sigh of relief as if a heavy burden had been lifted: "Now, it should be safe."
Never underestimate anyone, especially the scum of the lower hive.
The other party had metal prosthetics, clearly not an ordinary lower hive, so Emrys wasn't sure if his little trick just now could fool that guy.
But burning the clothes could completely eliminate the scent, so even if the other party reacted later, it would be impossible to find him.
Although these clothes were his only remaining 'asset,' for safety, Emrys believed it was necessary to eliminate the danger. Only cautious people could To Live in the wasteland.
With the potential trouble resolved, Emrys felt relieved as he followed the familiar small path back to his predecessor's home.
Calling it a 'home' was really a stretch; it was completely a dog kennel made from a thoroughly abandoned junkyard that even Scavengers wouldn't bother with, permeated with a strong, pungent smell and visible filth everywhere.
But even so, Emrys inexplicably felt a sense of peace.
The crude shack made of hide was his home, the place he had grown up in.
Back in the shack, Emrys was already famished. He immediately tore open a bag of nutrient gruel and poured it directly down his throat.
His first taste of the nutrient gruel, a thick, tasteless paste, nearly made him throw up.
No matter how he looked at it, this stuff was pretty much like 'vomit.' In the end, between reason and hunger, hunger won out.
Emrys closed his eyes, steeled himself, and quickly drank the entire bag of nutrient gruel.
The feeling of hunger was finally relieved, and he could barely understand why such a portion of nutrient gruel was in such high demand in the lower hive.
Because no matter how unpalatable it was, at least this stuff could allow people To Live.
Although he really wanted to sleep now, reason told Emrys that he had to hurry and reactivate the 'dial.'
The threat from the Hammer Skulls was secondary.
With the help of his 'golden finger,' Emrys was full of confidence, but what truly concerned him was the black-robed man he remembered talking to the Iron Crows.
If he wasn't mistaken, that mysterious black-robed man was very likely a psyker!
Psyker power, which drew energy from the Warp, could unleash extraordinary destructive force, so every psyker was an extremely dangerous existence.
It was well-known that once something was linked to the Warp, it meant the matter was absolutely not trivial!
Especially when the black-robed psyker uttered words like 'skulls' and 'sacrifice,' it made Emrys even more uneasy.
Warp, psyker, skulls, sacrifice.
These four words, when put together, basically told Emrys that the enemy was preparing to summon a 'Khorne Daemon.'
Khorne, Daemons—once they appeared in the Warhammer Universe, the result was either death or a fate worse than death.
Or, should he go find an Inquisitor?
'Nah I'm not suicidal.'
However, this thought, which lasted less than half a second in Emrys' mind, was immediately rejected by him.
Not to mention that he, a lower hive trash, couldn't even see an Inquisitor and would most likely be shot as a thug.
Even if he could truly see an Inquisitor and report the potential infiltration of 'cult' fanatics into the lower hive, what would greet him would definitely not be a medal, but a bullet.
Then, the Inquisitor would decide whether to issue an 'Exterminatus' based on the cult situation.
Even in the most ideal scenario, the Inquisitors, those genuinely fanatical individuals, would directly wipe out the entire lower hive, citing the prevention of cultic power contamination.
Human lives were the cheapest thing in the Warhammer Universe.
But if he didn't speak up, once the cult's blood sacrifice ritual succeeded, it might be the Grey Knights who arrived!
Emrys' face was bitter. If the Grey Knights truly descended, it was likely the entire Planet would be wiped out.
"Activate the dial as soon as possible, then find a way to stop those madmen."
Doing this wasn't for some bullshit justice; it was purely because Emrys didn't want to be implicated.
If it really escalated, and an Exterminatus was issued, he wouldn't even have anywhere to run. He could only pray to the Emperor under the macro-cannons for a different planet in his next life.
The urgency brought by the cult made Emrys cast aside distracting thoughts and arrange all the items he had acquired from the black market in front of him.
He suppressed his excitement and picked up the copper piece: "I have the energy, but how do I transfer it to the 'dial'?"
As he pondered, the 'dial' on his chest seemed to sense the energy and vibrated slightly.
Emrys took out the 'dial,' thought for a moment, took the copper piece, and placed it on the 'dial.'
An imperceptible light flashed, followed by the mechanical voice appearing again.
"Rechargeable energy: 150 units."
Emrys was secretly pleased; it worked, as expected.
But looking at the copper piece, he hesitated for a moment and asked: "Can I only replenish one hundred units?"
The Deflection Field Generator was definitely a top-tier defense, and if he didn't lack energy units, he wouldn't bear to use it for replenishment.
"Replenish energy: 100 units."
The 'dial' was indeed very sensible, leaving him 50 units. This way, if he used the Deflection Field Generator sparingly, it would block several fatal attacks for him at critical moments.
After replenishing the energy, the 'dial' directly integrated into his wrist, like a tattoo.
Emrys was very satisfied with this change; this way, he wouldn't have to worry about losing it or it being discovered.
[Traveler: Emrys.]
[Race: Human.]
[Occupation: Scavenger.]
[Anchored planet: None.]
[Remaining energy: 100 units.]
[Traveler, would you like to proceed to a new planet?]
Emrys picked up the old laser gun, put the copper piece in his pocket, and once fully prepared, he confirmed: "Yes, proceed to a new planet!"
Suddenly, it was as if a black hole opened directly in front of him.
A huge suction force swallowed the bewildered Emrys whole, and then he simply vanished.
When Emrys opened his eyes again, he found himself in an alley.
"It's always places like this. Am I destined to be with this broken place?" Emrys complained, his face full of exasperation, then looked up at the night sky.
The moon was bright, the stars sparse, and the night sky was like a veil.
Even the cool evening breeze of summer made him feel enchanted and nostalgic.
People only realize how important what they once had was after they lose it.
Just like Emrys, after transmigrating to the Warhammer Universe, now even taking a breath of 21st-century air felt incredibly luxurious.
"Now we're talking!"
Emrys opened his arms and took a deep breath, as if reborn.
The LED display on the commercial building across the street was playing a video.
An handsome young man in a dark blue bodysuit, wearing a Stars and Stripes cape, as if a God descended from the heavens, was being interviewed, his sunny smile like an innocent boy.
"The Seven, under the leadership of Homelander, successfully thwarted the resistance organization's conspiracy and saved hundreds of civilians, all part of the Vought Group."
Emrys saw the person in the video and was instantly stunned.
'Isn't that the blonde Milk Boy?!'