Warhammer Fanfic: Starting with a Core Cabin

"Activate, Soul Resonance."

As Duanmu Huai's voice fell, the scenery before him suddenly changed. The ruined relics—once nothing but broken walls and rubble—began to blur before his eyes, replaced by shattered phantoms.

This was no longer the scenery of the real world; this was the power of a Soul Walker. At this moment, Duanmu Huai's soul had sensed and come into contact with the Warp.

As previously mentioned, the Warp was a reflection of all things—past, present, and future. Most of the time, when something in reality was destroyed or erased, its reflection would also vanish from the Warp. However, some reflections didn't disappear.

Perhaps due to some kind of obsession, resentment, or even pure chance, these reflections remained despite their physical bodies being lost in the real world. They solidified into what could be called fragments.

In simple terms, it was a bit like a game bug. When you killed an enemy, sometimes you'd find its shadow frozen in place, or its corpse wouldn't vanish. This was a similar phenomenon. Of course, in a game, you could just reload or refresh—but the real world didn't have that luxury.

And unlike in games, this wasn't harmless.

Game bugs might cause crashes, broken quests, or infinite spawns. Likewise, these "stuck" reflections in the Warp could cause problems in reality. In many worlds, their effects manifested as ghosts or spirits. That was one of the signs of these fragments' influence.

To most people, these fragments were meaningless. But for Soul Walkers, they were something entirely different.

Soul Walkers could find these fragments, enter them, and even control them—using them for their own purposes. It was an incredibly powerful ability.

After all, many ancient civilizations had unique powers and advanced knowledge. But over time, that knowledge and those powers were buried, forgotten, or outright destroyed. Even divine artifacts could be lost forever... but the projections of those times in the Warp were different.

They would exist eternally, never to be erased.

Of course, summoning something from the Warp into the real world required energy. But even putting that aside, the sheer potential of being able to recall lost existences into reality was enough to imagine how powerful this ability could be.

And that wasn't the only benefit of these fragments.

As mentioned before, fragments were like bugs—self-contained and isolated. While they existed within the Warp, they were immune to attack from the demons that roamed it. In other words, they were safe zones.

For Psykers, this was nothing short of a perfect refuge.

If a Psyker hid their soul projection inside a fragment, even heavy use of psychic powers would make it extremely difficult for Warp demons to find them.

It was like putting a mouse inside a safe—no matter how many cats were prowling around outside, the mouse could make all the noise it wanted and still remain protected. That was the power of Soul Walker fragments.

Different fragments had different sizes.

The smallest might be no bigger than a single house. The largest... might span an entire universe.

One could only imagine how powerful a Soul Walker would be if they possessed a universe-sized fragment.

When Duanmu Huai discovered this ability before transmigrating, it was already mid-game, which left him full of regret. After all, Star Sea Online was a dynamic, real-time game. That meant the world was always evolving—some places visited early on might later vanish, or be rebuilt, or become inaccessible for countless reasons.

Some ruin dungeons might disappear after being cleared. If he had discovered the true use of this skill when he first awakened, his leveling path would have been much smoother. At that time, he might have become the strongest player in Star Sea Online—bar none.

Of course, now for Duanmu Huai, that title had little meaning. He might very well be the only player in this world. What mattered most now was finding a complete fragment.

While thinking, Duanmu Huai wandered through the ruin projection. Looking around, the surrounding scenery resembled the ruins he had seen before, but without the cover of sand, the city's original appearance was far clearer.

"Hmm?"

At that moment, Duanmu Huai spotted a point of light on the hillside not far from the city. His interest was immediately piqued, and he quickened his pace, heading toward the destination.

It didn't take long for Duanmu Huai to reach the hillside. In front of him stood a small wooden house, simple and plain in appearance. Without hesitation, Duanmu Huai reached out, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

Creak...! The wooden door slowly opened as Duanmu Huai entered the house. The first thing he saw was a pile of arms hanging from the ceiling.

"...So they're fake. That scared me."

Startled for a moment, Duanmu Huai took a closer look and realized that the arms were all prosthetic limbs carved from wood. Still, the way they were hanging so densely from the ceiling and flickering under candlelight was undeniably creepy.

Just then, a voice suddenly rang out.

"The day has finally come. I can use my power to protect my country."

As the words fell, a translucent, ghost-like figure of a man quietly appeared in front of Duanmu Huai. He looked excited and emotional, waving his hands.

"With this power, my country will no longer suffer the ravages of war, nor fear invasion. Everyone will be able to live peaceful, tranquil lives!"

Duanmu Huai simply stood in place, watching silently. He was no stranger to scenes like this.

Any fragment lucky enough to be preserved often contained the strong emotions and lingering will of its creator. Clearly, this young man was once the owner of the house. After his passionate declaration, the phantom vanished, and Duanmu Huai continued exploring.

Soon, he passed through the entrance into the main living area. The first thing he saw was a wooden workbench. Judging from the prosthetic limbs placed nearby, this man had likely been a puppeteer.

"Puppets are wonderful creations..."

The man's figure appeared again, now seated in a chair, carefully crafting something by hand.

"Born from human hands, imitating humans, but not human. Beautiful, pure, perfect... This is what I've always hoped for..."

The voice gradually faded, and the phantom dissolved with it.

Duanmu Huai glanced at the workbench before him and walked further into the house. But just as he reached the next room—

Clang!!

Suddenly, a cup flew out and smashed on the ground.

Duanmu Huai peeked into the room and saw that what should have been a study was now a mess. The table had been overturned, teacups and a teapot were shattered across the floor.

The man was now panting heavily, seated in a chair. His face looked aged and worn—it was hard to tell whether it was due to time, madness, or both.

"He lied to me! That liar! He deceived me!" the man roared like a beast, clutching his head with trembling hands. "Those puppets were created to defend our country, not invade others! He turned me into a blood-soaked aggressor... an executioner!!"

Then, as if making a firm decision, the man stood up.

"I won't let him succeed. I'll stop all of it. I will destroy his ambition completely. I'm sorry... it seems... I was too naive."

After saying this, the man reached into his pocket, took something out, and placed it on the table. Then he sighed. "I hope you can find the meaning of your own existence, my child." With that, the man turned his head, a look of resolute finality on his face, and walked out of the room, disappearing from sight.

So that's how it is. Having witnessed the whole thing, Duanmu Huai more or less understood what was going on. Referring to what Alisa had said before, it was clear that the owner of this house had been a very powerful puppeteer.

He was the one who had created the country's former demon puppet army. But the puppeteer's original intent was only to protect his homeland. He had never imagined the king would use those puppet soldiers for conquest. Based on what Alisa said—that the king had eventually become so arrogant he attempted to create a demon puppet to conquer the world—it was likely that this was what pushed the man to finally destroy both the king and his ambitions.

If Duanmu Huai's guess was correct, and it had indeed been this man who successfully created that final demon puppet, then used it to attack the royal palace, kill the king, and self-destruct to wipe out the nation—then his will and conviction would have easily solidified into a fragment in the Warp.

Now, let's see what he left behind.

Duanmu Huai stepped forward and saw a key inlaid with a green gemstone lying on the table. Just then, a line of system prompts appeared before his eyes.

[Activate quest: "The Puppeteer's Legacy"]

[Quest objective: Obtain the legacy]

[Quest description: Gain the recognition of the puppeteer's will and receive his legacy!]

"Tsk, a bit troublesome." Duanmu Huai frowned.

To obtain these fragments, one had to go through different types of trials. They generally fell into three categories.

The first was helping the will within the fragment fulfill a final wish.

The second was to overcome a challenge within the fragment to prove one's strength.

And the third—simpler, but more complicated—required aligning with the will's beliefs.

In short, you had to resonate with them—hit it off, share the same ideals—and they'd willingly pass their legacy to you. If not, then you'd have to fight for it.

At this point, many players might ask, Can't I just pick the right dialogue options to increase favorability?

Well, no.

Because in this kind of communication, the will would read your true first thought. For example, if you entered a paladin's fragment and wanted to get his holy sword, and he asked if you could uphold knightly virtues, your inner thought mattered more than your words.

If your real thoughts were something like "Sell it for cash" or "Use it to dominate PvP," then no matter how righteous you sounded, the knight would immediately reject you. At that point, you'd either have to leave or fight him for it.

That said, there was a third option—persuasion.

Thoughts could be changed. If you could convince the will that your ideas were valid, and your reasoning superior, he might change his mind. But being a contrarian for its own sake didn't work.

And now, Duanmu Huai was facing this exact type of test.

"I sense your presence, visitor."

A cold, hoarse voice echoed through the room. The various parts hanging on the walls began to tremble, then flew together, assembling into a puppet head. It resembled the previous man by seven or eight parts and stared directly at him.

"You have seen my past. So, what do you think of it?"

"You made a mistake, and you corrected it. That's all I can say," Duanmu Huai replied without hesitation. He knew that on this level of consciousness, lying was pointless—only honesty mattered.

"That's right. I believe that as well. I was merely correcting the error I caused..." The puppeteer's tone deepened. "Now, young man... Since you seek this power, tell me—what do you intend to do with it?"

"Of course, to fight," Duanmu Huai answered flatly, without a trace of doubt.

Are you kidding me? If I didn't come here to fight, what would I be doing? Sitting at home learning wood carving from you? Writing melancholic poetry about the seasons?

"Fighting again!" Upon hearing this, the puppeteer flew into a rage. "Do you have no other thoughts besides fighting?"

"Then I'd like to hear what other thoughts you have."

Duanmu Huai crossed his arms and stared at the puppeteer in front of him. This kind of person was basically an artist—and most artists were mentally unstable, with values completely different from normal people. He wanted to see what this puppeteer had to say.

"Puppets are existences that imitate humans, but they can be more perfect than humans. Once they gain souls, they will become even more wonderful existences..."

"Uh, sorry to interrupt." Seeing the puppeteer getting so passionate, Duanmu Huai decisively cut him off.

"Simply put, you want puppets to have souls and become more perfect beings than humans, right?"

"That's right!"

"And then?"

"...And then???" The puppeteer was stunned, clearly not understanding Duanmu Huai's point.

"Yes, since you said it has a soul, that means it's a living being, right? It's not like the puppets you made before, where once the carving is done, that's the end. If it has a soul, it will grow, it will mature, it will think, it will observe—just like a child. But one day, it will realize it's not human, not even a living creature in the conventional sense. It might be the only one of its kind in the world, completely different from everyone else. So what happens then? What will it do? Do you have a plan for that?"

"This..." The puppeteer was dumbfounded, unable to answer.

Indeed, as Duanmu Huai pointed out, a puppet with a soul was no longer just a lifeless creation—it was a growing life. So then, what was its purpose? What meaning did its existence hold?

Only at this moment did the puppeteer seem to realize the implications of his actions.

"I... what have I been doing..."

"..."

Duanmu Huai watched him quietly, saying nothing.

In fact, as an Inquisitor, he had his own set of taboos. When players chose the Inquisitor class, several rules would appear—and one of them clearly forbade the creation of artificial AI with self-awareness, or anything resembling a soul-based lifeform.

If this taboo was violated, all class skills and attributes would be sealed, essentially forcing the player to delete their character and start over. There had been stubborn players who tried to defy the system, but the results were always the same. It sparked heavy debates in the forums.

Some players argued that creating life was their right. Others felt that creating life irresponsibly was unethical. Duanmu Huai leaned toward the latter. He believed everything should have a beginning and an end—and hated half-baked responsibility.

That was why, despite liking cats and dogs, he never raised any. He knew pets had shorter lifespans than humans. No matter how much effort he put in, they would die before him. Rather than suffering that pain later, he chose to just look at cats online.

So he looked down on artists like this puppeteer. These were the kind of people who only acted on a moment's passion, chasing happiness without ever caring about the consequences. They were like those irresponsible people who bought pets because they were cute, but abandoned them later when feeding or caring became a burden. It was the epitome of irresponsibility.

Therefore, Duanmu Huai didn't hide his thoughts. He knew that in this kind of soul-level confrontation, the other party would sense his true feelings anyway—there was no point pretending.

"Perhaps, I really was wrong..."

The puppeteer drooped for a moment, then raised his head.

"I understand what you're thinking. Indeed, I wasn't a qualified father. Maybe when I brought her into this world, I never considered what it really meant... So... I hope you can promise me—no matter what happens, take good care of her."

Facing the puppeteer's plea, Duanmu Huai frowned.

"That's hard to promise. You should know I'm going to face countless battles from here on. There's real danger involved."

"I understand. I just hope you can guide her heart... Let her understand humans, feel what it means to be human, and understand herself..."

At that point, the puppeteer's face showed a bitter smile.

"Sorry. That should have been my job... but it seems I no longer have that chance."

"...Alright. I don't know if I can do it, but I'll try my best."

That was all Duanmu Huai could say. After all, he'd never raised a child before.

After hearing Duanmu Huai's reply, the puppeteer nodded, then quietly broke apart into scattered pieces and collapsed to the ground.

Duanmu Huai stepped forward, reached out, and picked up the key.

The room began to tremble. And when Duanmu Huai opened his eyes again—he had returned to the real world.

"Very good. It's done..."

Duanmu Huai looked down at the item in his hand, a smile spreading across his face.

Finally... a success.

(End of this chapter)