Among the complex parameters, the most conspicuous were two choices: Superflat and Normal. These were the two standard options given when creating a world in Minecraft.
Forget about Superflat; who knows if it would start spawning Slimes everywhere. Zeke selected Normal. The interface jumped to various terrain selections, even supporting custom generation.
As long as he selected and divided the chunks properly, and then clicked 'Create', it would generate and overwrite the original landscape. Zeke began modifying Wyrmwood according to his own preferences.
Snow-capped mountain ranges, endless green plains, and even a Mushroom Island growing giant mushrooms—these were all common biomes in Minecraft. The horrifying sights of corruption faded away, replaced by picturesque plots of land made entirely of blocks.
Aside from the minor flaw of everything being perfectly square, it was practically perfect. Just as Zeke was inspecting this pixelated, mosaic-version of a utopia and feeling quite pleased with himself, a sharp, hoarse screech plummeted from high above.
A shadow loomed over his head. Several Phantoms, radiating a faint, eerie green phosphorescence, were circling high in the sky. Their rotting wings sliced through the air, reminding Zeke that he hadn't slept in a very long time.
Oh, crap... Zeke's heart skipped a beat. Did the terrain modification bring the mob-spawning mechanics along with it?
In a shadowed cave two hundred meters ahead, a Zombie spawned out of thin air. After looking around, it walked straight toward the nearest target: Zeke. The moment it stepped into the sunlight, it burst into flames, turning into Rotten Flesh shortly after.
Was this a bad thing? The reassembled Caliban was originally completely dead and silent; all its living creatures had died long ago. But now, this silent world was active once more.
At the end of the day, Minecraft mobs were still far more amiable and approachable than other Warhammer creatures. Lion, you really hit the jackpot this time.
Zeke couldn't quite stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards. Perhaps in the near future, when the Dark Angels warriors garrisoned this homeland, aside from guarding against Orks and Tyranids, they would also have to develop the good habit of going to bed on time.
Otherwise, those nightmares in the sky would teach them what a true sleepless night was. Well, they're Space Marines, it's not like they can't handle a few Phantoms.
The roar of the Dissonance Engine gradually subsided. The Key had completely reassembled, and Zeke's surface editing was also complete. Zeke approached the Dissonance Engine. A structure resembling a cockpit had formed around that mechanical heart, filled with various living metal cables, display screens, and mysterious buttons.
–
"Warning! Multi-spectrum analysis indicates a massive non-empyrean relativistic trauma in this sector!" shouted a Tech-Priest aboard the Ark of Omen, who was closely monitoring the changes on Wyrmwood.
"Energy fluctuations detected! The scale exceeds the upper calculation limits of the cogitators! This is impossible! This is a blasphemy against the Omnissiah!"
Guilliman, standing at the edge of the deck overlooking Wyrmwood, felt his scalp tingle. In his superhuman vision, Wyrmwood was emitting a blinding light that even the local star of this solar system couldn't hope to match.
The Lion clenched his fists, halting the movements of the Dark Angels behind him.
Zeke had promised a better Caliban.
"He never lies, does he?" the Lion muttered to himself, sounding as if he were asking Guilliman, yet also comforting himself.
Bizarre anomalies distorted their vision. The void surrounding the glowing Wyrmwood constantly warped and buckled, like a scene viewed through a fisheye lens.
The reality around the world of Wyrmwood was distorted, and then tore open. Then, a sight that could shatter the iron will of a Space Marine occurred.
Caliban, the homeworld bearing countless tragedies and glories, ran away.
Literally ran away. Caliban hurtled forward at an astonishing speed, rampaging right through the stars.
"Yes! Exactly like this! This human actually did it!" Vashtorr danced with joy. "The reason the Key is so magnificent is not just because it can find the location of the Lock, but more importantly, because it can move at will and traverse space and time!"
The Wandering Caliban. This thought popped into Zeke's head as he sat in the driver's seat at the core of the Key. This creation, which far surpassed current human technology, really opened his eyes.
Moreover, a transparent film seemed to be attached around Wyrmwood. It was precisely the existence of this film that ensured that even as Wyrmwood advanced at an astonishing speed, it wouldn't affect anything on the planet itself.
Zeke watched with his own eyes as a planet half the size of Wyrmwood blocked its path, and Wyrmwood just rammed straight into it. That planet was smashed to pieces, countless fragments exploding in the void, while Wyrmwood passed through the ruins completely unscathed.
"Heh, the Key is a tool to open the Lock, but it is also a terrifying weapon." Vashtorr stepped out of the Nether Portal and walked into the cockpit of the Dissonance Engine, followed closely by the Lion.
"Let alone planets, the Key can even directly shatter space, enter the Webway, and perform cross-dimensional transfers." Vashtorr stepped forward, His eyes filled with unrestrained envy. This should have belonged to Him.
Zeke scanned the large map, confirming that Wyrmwood's forward trajectory followed a pattern: it was actively searching for the Old Ones' vault.
"Lion, you really hit the jackpot this time. Not only did you get a homeworld with beautiful scenery, but you also got your hands on a terrifying weapon to boot."
Zeke controlled Wyrmwood, rampaging forward and joyfully smashing into other asteroids like he was playing a game of cosmic snooker.
The Lion, meanwhile, looked behind him. The surrounding scenery left him temporarily speechless.
Pristine white snow-capped mountains sparkled in the sunlight, emerald green plains stretched to the horizon, acacia forests swayed in the breeze, and in the distance, there was a Mushroom Island. Under those mushrooms were some bizarre red livestock with mushrooms growing on their backs.
Where the hell am I? Is this still Wyrmwood? The Dark Angels behind him whispered among themselves, staring at this unfamiliar homeworld.
"This is our homeworld?"
"I see mushrooms... mushrooms bigger than a Dreadnought. Could it be fungi spawned by the Orks?"
"Those are just regular mushrooms. As for those creatures, they're called Mooshrooms. They can produce a type of food called Mushroom Stew," Zeke explained, stepping down from the console.
"By the way, Vashtorr, roughly how long will it take for this planet to find the vault?"
"Don't be impatient. The Old Ones' vault is extremely well hidden. That is also why no one has been able to find it for so many years." Vashtorr recorded the planet's operational processes.
"Is that so? Well then, Vashtorr, it seems you aren't of much use anymore." Zeke took a step closer to Vashtorr. The Lion and the other Primarchs also gradually closed in.
Vashtorr suddenly felt the distinct intention of 'killing the donkey the moment it leaves the millstone'. "Wait a moment, human."
"Listen to me! You are not the only one who wants this vault. Other races residing in the galaxy—the T'au, the Aeldari, and the Necrons—are also interested in it. You cannot swallow this treasure all by yourself."
Upon hearing this, Zeke realized they were all familiar faces. Vashtorr probably didn't know yet that the Aeldari and the Necrons could be considered half-allies to humanity. As for the T'au, they couldn't stir up much of a storm anyway.
--
Next Goal = 500 Powerstones.