I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 1 The God of Information [Bit]

excruciating pain.

An unprecedented, excruciating pain, as if it were forcibly peeling away every fiber of his soul and body and grinding it into powder, suddenly took over his entire consciousness.

"Holy crap, that hurts so much!"

He blurted it out instinctively, but the sound didn't travel through any familiar medium. He suddenly opened his "eyes" and was immediately plunged into utter bewilderment.

There was no up, down, left, or right; no tangible matter. Everything before him was composed of countless colors in the literal sense, not static paints, but surging and turbulent like the undercurrents of the deep sea, intertwining, colliding, annihilating, and then being reborn in the next instant. Radiant nebulae and unfathomable black whirlpools were neighbors here; silent roars and tranquil whispers were the same melody. He found himself in the very center of this strange sea.

He wanted to look at his hands to confirm his existence. However, the moment the thought crossed his mind, he was shocked to find that his vision was vastly different from when he was a human.

He has no fixed viewpoint.

His perception is all-encompassing, even transcending dimensions. He can simultaneously "see" his front, back, above, below, and even... his inside and outside. He can see that he is a form woven from countless shimmering data streams and conceptual symbols, these data streams transporting energy like blood vessels, sustaining his non-existent "existence." He can clearly "read" every basic information stream that constitutes his strange body, as if observing open-source program code.

It was precisely because of this "self-observation" that the excruciating pain miraculously subsided slightly. It was as if the chaotic system, after being inspected by the administrator, began to stabilize. This finally gave him a moment to breathe, allowing him to calmly understand the current situation.

Just then, a memory that wasn't his personal experience, yet perfectly matched his current state, slowly rose to the surface like a bubble in the deep sea and merged into his consciousness.

He got the answer quickly.

So, he died, and then came back to life. Or rather, he transformed. He became some kind of…god. A new deity wielding the power of [information] and [data]. And the place he now resides in has had many different names in the records of countless civilizations—"the High Heavens," "the Vast Ocean," "the Realm of Emotions," and its most well-known, and most infamous, name—the Subspace.

"Holy crap... Warhammer 40K!"

This conclusion left the god of information momentarily unsure whether to laugh or cry.

On one hand, he became a god. As long as he is not obliterated by the terrifying external forces, the God of Information can be said to have achieved theoretical immortality and power that most heroes of the human empires—even Astartes—could not attain.

But on the other hand… there are far too many external threats in this place! The warp! This is the backyard of the Chaos God! That mechanical fiend, Vashtor, is probably very interested in my authority over [Information and Data], isn't he? To it, I'm clearly a hot, ripe piece of meat. The God of Information's first thought was: Can I go back home?
His home planet, that blue planet, that safe zone with negligible military strength, at least within the solar system. Going back in his current state would be like a max-level, god-tier player returning to a beginner's kindergarten—he could wreak havoc however he wanted. Why suffer in the dark, bloody cesspool of Warhammer?
As soon as this thought arose, a torrent of information far larger and more turbulent than any previous memory instantly flooded his consciousness.

It was a vast array of web pages, forum posts, video streams, social media updates, encrypted military communications, deep web transaction records, real-time data from IoT devices… From 4K high-definition entertainment videos to tedious logistical spreadsheets on servers deep within a military base, everything on the Earth's internet, whether public or private, opened its doors to him in that instant.

The God of Information immediately understood. His current authority had given him complete access to the "Internet" on the other side of Earth. It could be said that all information terminals on Earth, whether military or civilian, whether they had established independent local area networks or not, were now under his complete control.

If he could go back, this book would instantly become an invincible masterpiece, but unfortunately he can't go back.

"Is this... the power of God?" The God of Information uttered a silent gasp.

At the same time, he clearly realized that he had lost the possibility of returning. The reasons were simple: first, that corner of the real universe lacked a subspace as the "soil" for his existence; second, and most importantly, Earth's "information sphere" was far too small to support his current divine form. He was like a blue whale, and Earth was merely a small puddle; forcibly entering would only result in stranding and destruction. At the very least, the sheer volume of information generated by a galaxy-level civilization would be barely enough to serve as his "haven."

Thus, the god of information was immersed in grief at being unable to return home.

It could be a few seconds, or it could be tens of thousands of years. After all, in the subspace, the passage of time is completely unpredictable; who can say for sure?

Only after the grief seemed to have been completely erased, as if deleted from data, did he regain his composure. After all, emotions couldn't solve problems. He thought carefully and realized that his current situation was probably extremely dangerous. In the subspace, a place teeming with hidden dangers and villains, he could be kicked to death at any moment by some powerful being passing by, like a stray dog.

His current strength was clearly not very great. The pain and faint sense of weakness within his body were undeniable.

Putting everything else aside, he had just analyzed and grasped all the information about Earth, and after careful consideration, he realized that this process had actually taken 0.2 seconds of real-world Earth time.

0.2 seconds! For a god, that's ridiculously slow!
How could a lesser god have so little power left? Did Tzeentch steal his kidneys?
Regardless, his fundamental authority lies in information and data. An instinctive desire tells him that, like the Tyranids who need to devour biomass, he needs to acquire more and larger amounts of information and data to become stronger and better able to protect himself in danger.

However, his approach differs fundamentally from Tyrion's all-consuming nature. When acquiring information and data, he defaults to "copying," not "cutting." Of course, cutting is not impossible if he wishes.

"Speaking of which, now that I've been reborn, shouldn't I give myself a new name?" The God of Information pondered for a moment. "I come from Earth, and although I probably won't be able to go back in the future, it's still good to gather resources from Earth... Let's call myself [Bit]!"

(End of this chapter)