At that moment, Magnus's state of mind was exactly like Prospero itself—burning with panic, and already halfway buried like a grave.
He truly had not expected that the deal he had made years ago, the one he had believed so completely to be the right choice, would come back around like a boomerang and smash straight into his own face.
That eye…
I wish I could gouge it out myself.
"Heh…" Bruce, seated in his wheelchair, merely smiled and offered no comment.
Panicking now, are you? Too late. Who told you to keep showing off your 'peerless wisdom'?
Of course, Bruce hadn't accounted for that eye either, but there was really no one to blame. Unless this had somehow veered into a parody timeline, Magnus was always going to trade that eye away.
That much had been inevitable.
Bruce had already done quite a lot just by preventing Magnus from making that psychic phone call and forcing the arrogant red Ogryn to understand how serious the problem really was. At this point, all he could do was hope the lesson would keep Magnus sober for the rest of his life.
"What do we do… what do we do… what do we do now…"
Magnus was so frantic he looked ready to go up in flames.
"Why can't my foresight see anything?!"
Could it really be that my legion… my sons… are going to become a Chaos god's toys?
No. Absolutely not.
"Kind reminder," Curze said with a smile, also seated in a wheelchair—on Bruce's lap, no less. "Panic still counts against the clock."
Magnus twitched at the sight.
Bruce sat there stiffly, saying nothing.
Curze, meanwhile, wore a thoroughly satisfied expression.
Serves you right. If you'd just agreed to talk with us in the first place instead of stubbornly doing things your own way, would you be in this mess now? Horus had explained the situation clearly enough and even summoned you in the Warmaster's name for a conversation aboard ship.
"Are we really just going to sit here and wait for the Rubric to go off?!" Magnus demanded in anguish.
"I'm afraid there may be no saving it…" Bruce spread his hands. "The moment a certain blue bird got involved, the outcome was already mostly fixed."
"After all, Ahriman isn't a primarch. If he gets nudged a little, he'll absolutely make a decision he'll regret for the rest of his life."
"There has to be another way. There has to be…"
Magnus refused to accept it.
He kept pouring out psychic power, scanning the sea of sand in the ninety-ninth direction again and again. He clearly remembered placing an extraction point there, a rally point prepared in advance.
And yet, for some reason, it had vanished.
No trace of it remained—not on the spot, not anywhere nearby.
What was strangest of all was that they could still track the path those ninety-nine missing Thousand Sons had taken.
"Why don't we ask that blue round-headed raccoon-cat?" Curze finally said after some thought, deciding to throw Magnus one last lifeline. "He's got a lot of weird tricks. Maybe he has an answer."
For all his stupidity, Magnus wasn't malicious. If he could still be helped, then help him. Besides, if the Fifteenth Legion ended up owing her a favor, that would suit Curze's interests nicely. She might even be able to hold it over Magnus for the rest of his life.
"Blue?!" Magnus reacted at once, practically twitching.
These days, the mere mention of the color blue made him want to vomit. He half wanted to kill anything remotely blue on sight—even the Ultramarines.
If it hadn't been for that blue bird-headed thing, he never would have ended up this miserable.
That blue-feathered bastard really deserved to die.
"Meiling, stop for now," Curze ordered, raising a hand.
"Yes!" Meiling brought the wheelchair to a steady halt and shut off the map navigation she'd been following.
At the same time, the Night Lords Black Guard who had been moving in a spread-out formation also came to a stop, while the ordinary soldiers kept up their search in teams of three across the desert.
Seeing their primarch halt, the Thousand Sons did the same and waited for further orders.
"Magnus, I'm asking you one last thing."
Curze jumped down from Bruce's lap onto the sand. The blowing grit veered around her as she folded her arms over her chest and looked up at her brother.
"!"
Magnus understood immediately.
He dropped down without hesitation, crouching so low he was practically lying flat, bringing himself level with his tiny sibling.
"Ask. Please, my brother."
With his butt stuck comically in the air, he spoke with earnest sincerity.
"If I tell you to do something later, will you do it exactly as I say?"
Curze's tone turned serious.
"Maybe I can't guarantee your sons will all be saved. But I can guarantee one thing—what I'm about to suggest is worth trying."
"This isn't a bargain. It isn't an order. It isn't even a promise. It's a suggestion."
"I'm your brother. I don't want to see you spend the rest of your life suffering over this."
"So. Do you understand what I mean?"
Magnus didn't answer right away.
Instead, he slowly lowered his head—his proud head—until it almost bowed to the ground.
"If your method can truly save my sons, then no matter what price I must pay, I will pay it."
"And I swear this as well: the Fifteenth Legion will forever owe you and the Eighth Legion a debt. That debt can be called in for anything."
"Anything?" Warfarin, who had been eavesdropping shamelessly, perked up, her eyes shining and her fangs almost flashing. If that was true, couldn't she take the Thousand Sons' gene-seed and put on a truly spectacular experiment for the acting commander and the primarch?
"The favor of the Thousand Sons…" Bruce, meanwhile, was wondering what practical use that actually had.
It wasn't as if he could use their gene-seed to build the Grey Knights the Emperor had mentioned, right? But was there even any point? With the Webway project now apparently on track, did humanity still really need such a force?
"Fine. I'll remember what you just said. So you'd better remember what I said, too."
Curze nodded in satisfaction, then beckoned to one of the Black Guard.
"A few of you. Get in touch with that blue round-headed raccoon-cat for me."
You've pleaded this sincerely, so I'll give you a hand. Let's show you just how useful our legion's pet raccoon-cat can be.
"Yes!"
The Black Guard moved fast.
Soon enough, they had erected a windproof tent in the middle of the endless sands and assembled the necessary communications equipment. As for power, the original solution had been simple enough—a crude pedal generator.
But when the Thousand Sons learned the Eighth Legion needed electricity, they immediately stepped in to help. They converted psychic energy directly into current and replaced the human-powered generator entirely.
Once everything was ready, the visual telephone connected.
Far away on Nostramo, Doraemon was hauled out of sleep with his nightcap still on, forcibly booted up by Kis.
Since this really was an urgent matter, he only complained a few times instead of swearing properly, then started analyzing the situation with all due seriousness.
"So you're saying the Rubric can't be avoided anymore, assuming that blue bird thing really intends to trigger it at nine hours, nine minutes, and nine seconds?"
"Yes." Bruce nodded, glancing at his watch. "We've got less than twenty minutes left."
"That's rough…"
Doraemon scratched his head, then offered his take.
"I've run into similar situations before. If that blue bird is the rule-abiding type, then there may actually be a way to exploit a loophole."
"A loophole?" Magnus echoed, puzzled by the term.
"A bug. A crack in the rules," Doraemon explained. "Sure, exploiting loopholes isn't exactly honorable. But sometimes you don't get to be picky, right?"
"Then give us the solution. Or give us the tool. Time is precious," Curze snapped impatiently.
"Why is Lady Curze starting to sound more and more like Old Wang…" Doraemon muttered weakly under his breath.
Then he straightened and raised his voice.
"In that case, just make it so the blue bird can't identify the target."
"Since the biggest problem with the Rubric is the eye Magnus traded away, then if Magnus himself no longer counts as Magnus, what exactly is that eye supposed to lock onto?"
"If it can't lock onto Magnus, then it can't lock onto his sons either. And if it can't do that, then the flesh-change can't be triggered through him."
No Magnus…?
Everyone with enough authority to understand what he meant immediately looked enlightened.
But almost just as quickly, several senior Thousand Sons looked as if they'd rather die.
"What kind of stupid plan is that?!" one of them burst out.
"What do you mean, 'if Magnus is gone, it'll be fine'?!"
"A Thousand Sons Legion without Magnus—can that even be called a legion? You earless little monster!"
"I refuse! If I have to choose between myself and Lord Magnus, then I choose Lord Magnus!"
"Father! We'll think of another way!"
If there hadn't been a screen between them, the furious Thousand Sons would probably have tried to tear Doraemon apart on the spot. Great plan. Please never think of it again. And definitely never say it out loud.
"So if I disappear, the ritual can be stopped?" Magnus asked, struggling to keep his voice level.
He had sworn never again to trust anything remotely blue, but the brutal simplicity of Doraemon's suggestion still pulled at him.
Because it really would work.
"Yes. But don't get any funny ideas about dying, because a dead Magnus is still Magnus," Doraemon said. "What I mean is: you need to become something else."
"How?" Curze pressed. "We don't have much time."
"If there's no time for testing, then the easiest method is…"
Doraemon rummaged through his pocket with a miserable look on his face.
Then he pulled out a stack of oval-shaped labels.
"Ta-da! Substitute Stickers! If you stick one of these on Magnus and write down an alternate identity that's close enough to match him, the Rubric won't be able to lock on to him."
"You sure about that?" Bruce immediately objected. "Those things are only supposed to work on tools and objects. They work on people too?"
"They probably will, as long as what you write isn't too ridiculous," Doraemon warned. "Like trying to replace him with the Emperor himself or something…"
"So it's basically fake death by paperwork?"
"In essence, it makes the spell fail to identify its target, so it fizzles out on its own. Rules are rules. If the other side doesn't care about rules at all, then I can't help you."
That was the nature of spells. For all their strangeness, they still had to obey some kind of logic. Otherwise they wouldn't be spells.
"Is there anything better? Something more reliable?" Bruce asked, wanting to wring a few more useful items out of Doraemon just in case.
"Not for now. Unless we can go back to the moment Magnus made that trade and stop him there, this is the only real option," Doraemon admitted helplessly.
"Fine. Then send it over."
"Got it!"
A moment later, the transfer device whirred to life, and Bruce received the Substitute Stickers.
To help Magnus understand what they did, Bruce gave a demonstration on the spot.
"This is a bolter. Now I'll label it 'plasma pistol.'"
He wrote the words, stuck the label on the weapon, and squeezed the trigger.
A miracle happened.
What should have fired a bolt shell instead launched a stream of blue-white plasma.
The Thousand Sons were stunned.
Then they all surged toward Bruce in a rush, crowding around him and reaching out shamelessly for the stickers.
Any pretense of scholarly dignity vanished on the spot.
"Brother Bruce! Give us some—come on, everyone who's here gets a share, right?!"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 150)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter190)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter222)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 190
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 215
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 200
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 115
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 130
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 85
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 90
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 65
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 60
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 61
Checking In in Demon Slayer 65
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 80
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 66
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 58
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 65
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 63
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 59
Why did they assign me to Uma 55
MYGO Beauties 56
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 45
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 49
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 36
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 15
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin
My patreon : patreon.com/queen_sin