for some reason i want to mass produce alpha plus (or beyond] psykers just to commune with the tyranid hivemind and perform a new era of psychological warfare
It really depends... coming from someone who mostly played Soul Silver, White 2, and Omega Ruby, I feel like Ultra Sun/Moon kids are on the same level as Platinum kids. I wouldn't mess with someone who could take on Ultra Necrozma the same way I wouldn't mess with someone who could take on Cynthia. Plus... Brilliant Diamond, Shining Pearl, and Legends Arceus brought her fight to the Switch for younger challengers. Not to mention that BDSP has her team EV trained with good natures.
Human Psykers are rare... Meanwhile, the Emperor is being fueled by a sacrificial psyker per day... 365 days a year, and if this was the case since the Horus heresy... that is 3,650,000 Psykers... However, I imagine this number fluctuates based on the strength of the psyker... and don't forget that the imperium was still utilizing other psykers and are very very rough with them still... Therefore compared to other races living human psykers are a rare but formidable force... but human psykers are rare per sample size not rare by quantity. Rare by 40k standards seems to always imply, enough to fill several craft worlds but not enough to formulate a meaningful faction.
Guilliman: You do fine work abbess Vahl Vahl: My most sincere gratitude holy divine lord and saviour primarch Guilliman Guilliman: Stop fucking calling me that woman
The "blanks kill psykers by being close to them" was retconned by the tithe cinematic. The sister of silence walked into a room full of psykers and even grabbed one, and no one died. The psyker did get suppressed though
I have little headcanon idea, that there's an ancient variant of Pariah, that evolved from an offshoot of the Old Ones. Possibly a variant of the Slann? Their soulless presence would be so powerful, yet reserved, that it causes the area around oneself to seem unnatural, and uncanny--like all noise in an area just suddenly falls ear-splittingly silent; or the feeling of suddenly being in a sensory deprivation chamber. I have one story idea of a plague marine briefly glimpsing one of these, and he suddenly regains the feeling of sickness & pain from Nergal--and begs for a doctor to save him. He desperately screams for help--even renouncing his god...but his pleas fall on literally deaf ears. When his compatriots find him, they find him curled up in the fetal position, dead from no wounds--and before he was meant to rot away. The other plague marines find it shocking, in how much they detest the smell of his corpse.
You understand what "stable" means right? Allying with hell itself and literal daemons and dark gods isn't a stable psyker. he also isn't a human anymore.
There is an entire race of soulless beings known as the slaught, which are made out of a mass of worms which move around in a relatively humanoid arrangement, they are one of many minor 40k races that would be a super threat had they the ability to reproduce more rapidly, of which they don't
Technically speaking, it's not that nulls/blanks have no soul. Rather, it's more that they possess an anti-soul, a presence in the Warp that is polar opposite to a normal soul, negative to the Warp's positive. Soulless beings - such as most types of non-Machine Spirit robots - are MORE susceptible to the Warp and Chaos, not less. This is largely why machine spirits were adopted in the first place despite the fact that they aren't meaningfully different in function to an ordinary algorithm or non-sentient AI.
The lone figure, unarmed, unarmored, in clothing fit for a menial worker, slowly approached the Sorcerer, who found himself unable to flee. Unable to strike. Unable to even look away. The sorcerer's body convulsed with pain. The figure spoke, it's tone devoid of any intonation. Not even calm could be derived from it. "You stand there proudly boasting of your awareness of 'truth.' You are a fool, awakened from one dream and now convinced they will not find themselves waking once more. I have peered through every layer of the aether and stared unflinching into terminus of reality." The Sorcerer's mind began to unravel, resilience and fortitude stripped away by razors cutting at impossible angles. Against facets of mind and soul he had never known were even exposed. "Do you want to see it, too, traitor?" the man asked, less than a meter away. "Would you like to know what is underneath all of it?" "...there... is... NOTHING!" the Sorcerer spat out, taking all of his remaining strength and will to even utter three simple words. "Wrong," the man said in that soulless voice, as he reached out and laid a hand on the sorcerer's chest. The sorcerer screamed, or tried to scream, if there was even enough left of him to do so. In a sliver of an instant that stretched forever the sorcerer felt it all fall away. Beneath the real and the unreal, beneath the laws, natural and esoteric binding it all, beneath the invisible strands that wove the warp and the Materium into a single expression of existence. Beneath energy and particle. Beneath the stranger layers he had never known existed, levels of unreality and impossibility and scale he had never imagined. He felt his every component part, body, mind, and soul scattered to every corner of the universe. He felt how, in those unknowable ways, he was everywhere and nowhere and at all points in between, one consciousness and also all of them. He felt all of time and all of space and all of every dream and thought that ever was or could be. He felt his awareness inflate, greater and greater, and for a moment he imagined himself the master of this knowledge. Then he became the knowledge itself, and that too folded and bent and twisted in every possible way. The sorcerer ceased to exist as he became a knowing, living piece of all of it, the last vestige of identity erased along with his very soul. "There is everything," the toneless man said, his finger touching only the empty air where something had existed only moments ago.
>looking for well known high tier pirartes >enter: cook is talking about cannibalism your choice: >enter: aggress in some degree and potentially become a long pork meal >leave: pretend you saw nothing and bite your tongue through another verbal (and prolly physical) lashing ((knowing the marines, prolly both ngl))
