INTO THE WARHAMMER 40k UNIVERSE

The hospital looked like any other—a standard facility of clean lines and muted colors, bustling with doctors, nurses, and patients moving about their daily lives. There was nothing remarkable about it. No grand architecture or futuristic tech, nothing to indicate why I had been drawn here. Yet, I could feel it. A presence lingered in the air, as though something extraordinary hid behind the ordinary. I stepped through the sliding doors, the sterile scent of disinfectant washing over me, and made my way down a long, dimly lit hallway. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I knew I’d find it here. And then I saw him. At first glance, the man sitting in the waiting room was utterly unremarkable. Average height, brown hair, unassuming face—everything about him screamed “normal.” He sat alone, hands folded in his lap, his gaze distant but focused. The world around him seemed to blur as though he existed slightly out of sync with reality. He looked up as I approached, and for a moment, I hesitated. There was nothing extraordinary about him, and yet, I knew this man was the source of the pull I had felt. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. His voice was calm, unhurried, as though we had all the time in the world. I sat down, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. It was as though he could see through me, stripping away the political persona I’d crafted and seeing the core of who I truly was. "You're not from here, are you?" he asked, his tone casual, but the weight of the question was anything but. I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean by that?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I’ve seen many like you. Ones who don’t belong, who walk a path separate from the masses." He leaned back, eyes flickering with a strange intensity. “Your kind always finds a way into history, shaping it, breaking it, sometimes rebuilding it. But you, you’re different." I shifted uncomfortably. There was something unsettling about his words. "And what about you? You seem to know more than you let on." The man smiled faintly. "I’m no one special. Just a curious observer of humanity's journey from the days of stone tools to the stars. It’s fascinating, isn’t it? How far you’ve come. How much further you could go." We began to talk, and though his words were simple, they carried a weight that I couldn’t ignore. His passion for humanity’s progress was blinding, his belief in the power of logic and reason unshakable. He spoke of the need for pure logic in guiding mankind's future—how religion and faith had stifled progress, how wars and atrocities had been committed in the name of gods who had never shown themselves. “There’s no need for religion anymore,” he said, his voice firm. “It served its purpose when humanity was young, but now… now it’s only a hindrance. Logic is the future. Rationality. With it, humans can ascend beyond their petty squabbles, beyond the limitations imposed by belief in things that cannot be proven.” I considered his words, his conviction. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Religion had indeed sparked wars, inspired zealots to commit unspeakable acts in the name of their faith. But it had also done more. I couldn’t deny that, as much as I valued reason, religion had played a vital role in the evolution of human society.