Chapter Sixty-Three: The First Death

Wang Ming opened his eyes to find a gigantic blue sphere of light looming before him.

“Damn, the Emperor?”

Wang Ming immediately recognized the true nature of the dazzling orb—this was how the Emperor appeared in the Warp.

“You’ve come at last, though isn’t it a bit earlier than expected? I thought it would take you much longer to arrive,” a familiar voice echoed in Wang Ming’s mind—the same voice the Emperor had used when speaking to him as Niels.

“Emperor, why am I here?” Wang Ming’s last memory was nodding to Jose, and then suddenly standing before the Emperor.

“You’re dead.” The Emperor’s answer was simple and direct, revealing Wang Ming’s demise.

“What? I’m dead? How did I die?” Shocked by the news of his own death, Wang Ming was bewildered—how could a Primarch like him die so easily?

“A conspiracy—a plot by Slaanesh. That entity wished to corrupt you and killed you outright with a bullet blessed by its power.”

The Emperor laid out the sequence of Wang Ming’s death.

“But that doesn’t add up. Didn’t Slaanesh want to corrupt me? Why kill me straight away?”

As Wang Ming listened, confusion grew. Wasn’t corruption the goal? Why a bullet to the head?

“Because your previous companions’ resurrections made Slaanesh believe you were immortal. It wanted to corrupt you while you were dead. And since you had already destroyed the daemon sent to corrupt you, Slaanesh chose not to attempt a direct corruption again, but rather to do so while you were in a state of death.”

The Emperor explained why Slaanesh opted to kill him first and then corrupt, rather than corrupt him directly.

“So what now?” Wang Ming asked after hearing the explanation. Surely he wasn’t meant to simply return to the Golden Throne?

“Of course, you’ll get back to work—no, I mean, you’ll continue to wage war for humanity across the galaxy.” As the Emperor’s words faded, Wang Ming felt as though a colossal slap landed on his face, and then lost all consciousness.

After Wang Ming had been sent back to the material universe, a purple sphere appeared beside the great blue orb.

“Uh, let me explain…” the purple sphere murmured timidly to the Emperor, now thoroughly dominated by his presence.

“There’s no need. If you think you can corrupt him as you did the Third Primarch ten millennia ago, you’re mistaken,” the Emperor declared. Upon those words, the purple sphere shattered like a glass bead, vanishing in the Emperor’s psychic storm.

“Damn!” Wang Ming exclaimed as consciousness returned and he found himself once more in his physical body.

The first thing he did was check his head—no bullet holes, no wounds. Assured of his resurrection, Wang Ming swiftly retrieved his helmet and donned it. He had no intention of being shot in the head again.

“I’ve given you the essence of the Warp, but you’ll need to develop it yourself. Just a word of warning—don’t use it too soon.” As Wang Ming tried to piece together what had happened during his death, the Emperor’s voice echoed once more in his mind.

“The essence of the Warp?” Wang Ming pondered the Emperor’s cryptic message, but had no time to dwell on it.

He noticed a soldier before him, wreathed in psychic light, staring at him in terror. Around them, the planetary governor’s household guards raised their lasguns, firing at the soldier, but each beam was blocked by a shimmering psychic shield.

“Great Primarch, he intends to assassinate you!” As Wang Ming stood bewildered by the scene, Jose’s voice called from behind.

Turning, Wang Ming saw Jose standing unsteadily—his power armor shattered, the chest plate melted almost entirely away.

Taking in Jose’s state and his words, Wang Ming quickly grasped the situation.

With a single motion, Wang Ming seized the soldier under fire—his massive Primarch hand enveloped the man like a child’s toy.

The guards ceased their fire as Wang Ming captured the would-be assassin, but kept their weapons trained on him.

The instant Wang Ming laid hands on him, a golden light flared in his grip, and the soldier’s psychic power vanished. His body began to crack and splinter like porcelain.

Yet, unlike the Tzeentchian daemon Wang Ming had killed before, this figure didn’t simply dissipate, but instead shattered as if shedding a disguise, revealing fragments that drifted away.

When the shards dissolved, what remained in Wang Ming’s hand was a petite woman.

“Big brother, don’t kill me! I was forced by Slaanesh—I’ll leave, I promise! The sniper who shot you is in the governor’s tower across the square. If you kill me, it’ll hurt—a lot! Please, I beg you.”

The woman pleaded for her life, tears welling as she spoke.

“You really think I’ll let you go?” Wang Ming replied, turning his head to signal Jose behind him. Jose immediately understood, and despite his damaged armor, used his wrist terminal—which, though battered, still functioned—to contact the Sixth Company and the Primarch’s Guard aboard the Imperial Truth.

“Big brother, I truly don’t want to hurt you! Slaanesh made me do it! Please, just let me go—I’ll leave, I swear, please…” the woman sobbed, desperate for mercy.

Unmoved, Wang Ming drew his bolt pistol and pressed it to her head, ending her pleading with a single shot.

“Ouch! Can’t you just let me leave? Why must you do this? It hurts!” she cried, not dying from the shot—even with half her head gone, she faded away like a slain daemon, her form returning to the Warp.

Wang Ming holstered his weapon and strode toward Thomas Peckhart, the planetary governor, who was clutching a laspistol—he had just fired on the disguised assassin as well, ruling out any collusion with Chaos.

“My lord, I had no idea anyone would attempt to assassinate you—I have never betrayed the God-Emperor,” Peckhart stammered, hastily holstering his weapon and dropping to one knee before Wang Ming.

After all, the assassin had come from his own guard—if the Primarch suspected him of orchestrating the attack, all would be lost. Death was not what Peckhart feared most, but to be branded a traitor who betrayed the God-Emperor and sought the life of the Emperor’s own son.

“Rise, Governor Thomas Peckhart. I have never doubted your loyalty to the Emperor.” Wang Ming lifted the kneeling governor easily with one hand.

“Send your men to search the governor’s tower—find and apprehend the other would-be assassin.”

Relief swept over Thomas Peckhart at Wang Ming’s words. He quickly assured the Primarch that the other assassin would be found and brought to justice.