Wanderers—
This was a term Soshyan's father had found from within the vast family library.
Through his extensive investigations, he had made it clear that towards the end of the Great Crusade, there did indeed exist a civilization known as the "Wanderers".
This was a nomadic space-faring civilization composed jointly of humans and other xenos races. It was also an exceedingly rare civilization where humans could peacefully coexist with xenos. They used their fleets as their hos, dragging massive energy collectors behind them as they wandered between different star systems.
Faced with the expansion of the Imperium of Man, they chose to flee, staying far away from star systems already occupied by the Imperium.
But by the end of the Great Crusade, there was not much space left to accommodate their flight, and the Emperor had also lost his patience with this civilization that coexisted with xenos.
And so, a strike fleet fielded jointly by the Emperor's Children and Iron Hands Legions began pursuing the Wanderers, ultimately destroying them completely.
This was the family origin recorded in the first notebook by Soshyan's father. They were very likely the descendants of a certain human faction within the Wanderers' fleet who separated from the fleet and submitted to the Imperium on the eve of the civilization's destruction.
After reading all of this, Soshyan felt it would be highly necessary for him to seek out Sol later to verify whether such a civilization truly existed back then.
But in his heart, he already felt that this father's research was probably accurate.
Rubbing his temples, Soshyan stood up, poured himself another cup of wine, and then sat back down in his chair, taking out the second notebook.
"Originally, I also thought the history of our family stopped there, that this was the end of everything. But one day, within a set of field notes said to have been penned by our fifteenth-generation ancestor, I saw the word Ullanor..."
"What!"
With a clatter, Soshyan practically rocketed out of his chair, nearly knocking over his goblet.
He had never thought this term would actually appear in his father's notebooks.
After calming down slightly, he sat down and continued reading the contents of the notebook.
This notebook mostly recorded his father's research into that ancestor.
According to the records within, that fifteenth-generation ancestor had once been a mber of the Ullanor Expeditionary Army, a military officer no less. But his purpose for joining the army didn't seem to be limited rely to gaining glory and status.
From the very beginning, he seed to have planned to travel to Ullanor; joining the army was just hitching a ride.
As for further details, he hadn't revealed much more in his field notes. However, judging from the deductions made by Soshyan's father, this ancestor had likely gone to Ullanor in search of sothing.
At the sa ti, the fifteenth-generation ancestor had subtly hinted at sothing else within the field notes.
The Emperor seemingly also intended to search for sothing on Ullanor.
Soshyan read this notebook with exceptional care, correspondingly spending far more ti on it. He spent all the ti he normally used for sleeping on this.
When he reached the very last page, his father had left behind a single sentence.
"...Based on my research into the notes of our fifteenth-generation ancestor, I make the bold deduction that he must have left behind more detailed records, but they were hidden. I attempted to search for them, but despite spending much ti, I found nothing. I have placed the ancestor's original manuscript at the very end; perhaps you will be able to decipher it."
Soshyan closed the notebook and dug out the fifth notebook from the lockbox—it was different from the first four, smaller in size, thinner, and much easier to overlook.
Its cover was pale yellow, appearing even more decayed, and bore marks of having been rebound.
After thinking for a mont, he ultimately decided to read the third notebook first, leaving this one to be dealt with last.
Ti trickled away little by little...
914.M41, Segntum Tempestus, Mining World Safinius.
Tech-Acolyte Faya did not rember falling asleep, but it had indeed happened.
This was understandable. After all, toiling away in the eternal twilight, working tirelessly in the dark without sleep, not to ntion the arduous work at hand—no one could remain awake indefinitely.
He was dreaming, of this he was certain, because he had returned once more to that silver-grey cavern from his nightmares.
He ca here night after night, sinking into a terrifying, endless cycle.
This experience had never changed; there was never any chance to catch his breath, only the dark foreboding of fleeing from the claws of those nightmare-like creatures. Those multi-jointed creatures possessed gleaming steel claws, ceaselessly tapping against the stone.
Tap, tap, tap—
The cavern was still that strange silver, damp and glittering, that omnipresent threat lurking right before his eyes.
He knew the walls forming the cavern's surface only appeared solid; he knew what hid behind that fragile mbrane of reality—it was impossible for him not to know.
Indistinct silhouettes flitted about around him like billowing smoke.
He hurried through the cavern, sensing that the walls could begin peeling away at any mont, revealing the corruption lying beneath.
He heard voices, but those voices ant nothing to him; he could not answer.
With every step he took, he felt as if he was being guided, but he couldn't say by whom or what.
This premonition was almost unbearable, just like the blade of a guillotine hanging re inches from the back of his neck.
Faya hoped he would wake up, but he knew long ago that he was utterly powerless to control the inevitable progression of this terrifying vision.
Sure enough, he heard a soft scratching sound, just like rats within the walls.
Tap, tap, tap—
Faya suddenly broke into a run. He heard the scratching of claws over and over again.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap...
The sound was louder now, coming from all around him.
This was a new nightmare; this was an even more terrifying incubus.
Then, as though fire had ignited papier-mâché within the walls, the walls began to dissolve, turning black and spiraling away like dying embers.
The walls stripped away from the familiar rusted grid supporting them, and the horrifying void behind the walls was revealed once more.
That place was like the depths of a severely polluted ocean, filled with the filth and sludge an entire species had dissolved into.
The things inside were parasitic products, the terrifying byproducts of so xenos species that harbored deep hatred towards humanity.
Once again, Faya heard the ghastly fiends hunting him tearing their way out with razor-sharp claws, and he imdiately broke into a run.
This ti, they were not rely behind him; they were all around him in every direction.
The wall in front of him bulged outwards, as if sothing was pressing its unnatural body against the wire sh. Faya saw many gleaming claws and ghostly green eyes, the pupil upon each eye seemingly like an obsidian dagger.
The rips tore wider and wider, and a pack of beasts bearing gleaming steel claws surged into the cavern.
Their blades glinted with murderous intent. Their flesh resembled so sort of arthropod, their narrow, oval-shaped heads ceaselessly emitting howls, their limbs seemingly amputated from so massive beast.
The skulls of these beasts looked almost tallic, their skin shining wetly, long tongues bearing maw-like appendages constantly darting in and out of their fang-filled mouths.
Faya just kept running, while the beasts followed closely behind him, stalking him, toying with him.
They could catch him and kill him at any mont, but the hunt was simply too entertaining.
He could feel their hot breath washing over him, sour and hollow.
After all this ti, Faya knew there was only one path of escape.
He kept running forward, hoping that every panting stride would bring him closer to the galithic gates bearing bizarre sigils.
Only the interior of those gates could offer sanctuary.
Just as those sharp claws almost reached him, the sound of flapping wings rang out from within the massive gates.
Faya woke up, the cries of the monsters echoing in his ears.
Everything seed as though nothing had changed.
Suddenly, he violently shuddered, for he saw a wet skin draped over the window of his bedroom—the skin of a twisted creature, torn off a living body, still radiating heat and dripping with fresh blood.
He almost scread, but then cald himself, nimbly rolling up the hide to hide it away, wiping away all traces.
But he knew this could not be concealed for long. The brood of those monsters would certainly attempt to vent their fury.
Things seed to be taking a turn for the worse...
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