76: Chapter 76 The Logic Cage of the Master of Ever-Changing Changes (Part 1)

In the void, chaotic energy and the treacherous aura of the Warp intertwined and permeated. The blue flames burning around Tzeentch became increasingly manic; every wisp of flame twisted and changed, as if trying to burn through this stagnant void. It attempted to break free from the invisible shackles woven by The Main Brain using mathematical rules. Thousands of faces emerged alternately in the flames—some ferocious, some cunningly smiling, some sinister—but all hid a trace of undisguised panic. The time manipulation and conspiracy weaving it prided itself on seemed so powerless at this moment.

Just then, the voice of The Main Brain, lacking any emotional fluctuation yet carrying a hint of mockery, slowly came from the depths of the void, piercing through the crackling of the blue flames and echoing clearly in every inch of space: "2K era General Relativity, Volume 3, space expansion, time contraction. This is an application of the length contraction effect (Lorentz contraction). When an object approaches the speed of light, relative to a stationary observer, the length of the moving object in the direction of motion shortens. This is the length contraction effect. I am watching."

"Everything is going according to plan!" Tzeentch said, though it said so.

But the blue flames around its body surged instantly. It was frantically mobilizing the energy of the Warp, attempting to use endless changes to break through this damn planar barrier, but the panic in its voice could no longer be concealed, just like a punctured lie, fragmented and clear.

"Is that so?"

A light, airy rhetorical question echoed in the void, like ice water extinguishing Tzeentch's arrogance.

The energy suddenly stagnated, pressing down so hard that Tzeentch's blue flames burned unevenly, and its "changes" slowed down a bit.

A hand composed of pure light slowly grew out from the void. It was as pure as light, containing not a trace of impurity, with faint electromagnetic arcs flowing at its fingertips, as if it could tear apart all chaos and falsehood.

This light hand gently opened, and above its palm, a strange polyhedron gradually condensed and floated, just like the avatar of the universe in which it currently manifested.

The polyhedron had distinct edges, and every face reflected a colorful black.

It was a color that defied common sense; it absorbed all light yet refracted countless strange halos. Although it was a solid geometric shape, it seemed to be in a state of eternal, constant flux—contradictory and strange—making it feel as if it saw another version of itself in a mirror.

The blue flames on Tzeentch's body suddenly stalled. The thousands of eyes on its face contracted simultaneously, pupils shrinking to the size of needle points, filled with unbelievable horror.

As the god who controls the logic, conspiracy, and change of the Warhammer Universe, it instantly perceived the deadly threat this polyhedron contained for it. This was an attack directed at its core essence, a threat that could completely destroy the foundation of its existence.

"What is that?" Tzeentch's voice trembled slightly, shedding its previous arrogance, adding a trace of imperceptible panic, as if it hadn't realized this fear itself.

As soon as it finished speaking, it immediately forced itself to calm down and quickly added: "Everything is in the plan; I have long foreseen all of this!"

The Main Brain's light hand turned gently, and the polyhedron rotated slowly with it, the refracted colorful black becoming even more intense.

In the void, a cold, analytical voice slowly sounded, clearly dissecting the essence of this deadly weapon: "Change" itself is a process of logical evolution. Whether weaving conspiracies, deducing the future, or manipulating magic, it all needs to be based on a set of causal logic rules.

Without logic, without causality, so-called "change" would only become meaningless chaos, and chaos is not change. Chaos is random fluctuation, meaningless noise, an iteration that can never converge.

You designed a conspiracy, then designed a conspiracy to overthrow that conspiracy, then designed a conspiracy to overthrow the conspiracy that overthrew the conspiracy." This is recursion without a termination condition; this is logic falling into an infinite loop."

But Tzeentch believed it was "changing." It believed that every overthrow was moving forward. It believed this recursion had meaning.

And in the eyes of The Main Brain, this thing didn't look like the authority of a god at all; it looked more like a stack overflow attack.

python def Tzeentch_conspiracy(complexity): return Tzeentch_conspiracy(complexity + 1) # Never converges.

Even monkeys, in the experiment of pressing a button to get a banana, know to stop pressing after a few times if there's no banana.

Yet, Tzeentch's victims, in the cycle of "conspiracy → overthrow conspiracy → continue to overthrow the overthrow of the conspiracy," constantly invest new hope, new fear, and new calculations.

This has completely exceeded the scope of what intelligent life can explain and can only be attributed to the underlying rules locked by G.T.W. No wonder G.T.W. has so few descriptions of Tzeentch.

And now, this polyhedron is another way to crack this kind of change, a fatal blow aimed at logic itself.

Before the voice fell, The Main Brain's hand of light gently tossed the polyhedron. The polyhedron drew a strange arc in the air and then stopped not far in front of Tzeentch.

Immediately following, a string of Ancient Terra ornamental script composed of blue electromagnetic arcs drifted out of thin air in the void. The light was cold yet carried unquestionable majesty as a simple mathematical formula appeared before it.

∃ G (Gv ＜ — — ＞ Provable (G)).

The Main Brain's tone was indifferent, as if displaying an ordinary prop, because this formula had already been mastered by humanity before it even stepped out of its mother planet.

But the words it spoke pierced Tzeentch's fatal weakness:

"Ah, this is merely a concretization of 2K era human Gödel's Incompleteness Theorems. It allows any self-consistent formal system to have propositions that can neither be proven nor disproven, such as you."

The light hand paused slightly, and The Main Brain's explanatory voice carried a bit more impatience, yet remained incomparably clear: "Aren't you good at playing with logic, weaving conspiracies, and controlling everything through logical closed loops?

This thing is your fatal weakness. It can break all your sophistry and logical traps, making the path of the Lord of Change you pride yourself on completely reduced to a self-contradictory joke."

Tzeentch's body froze instantly, the horror in its thousands of eyes intensifying, and all expressions on its face solidified. It finally understood completely—this was not some complex magic, nor was it some powerful energy attack, but a simple yet deadly self-referential paradox. This paradox pointed directly at the core of change, directly at its essence: "The proposition of 'Lord of Change' cannot be proven."

It was this simple paradox, without smoke or roar, yet it was more lethal than Khorne's giant axe, Nurgle's plague, or Slaanesh's temptation. If the effect were triggered, it would be equivalent to sentencing it to an endless logical recursion.

It began to frantically deduce, attempting to break this infinite loop: If the proposition is true, then it cannot be proven. But it is the Lord of Change who dominates logic and conspiracy, a god who claims to be able to peek into billions of futures and deduce all causality, relying on logic to deduce everything, relying on time to weave all conspiracies—how can there be a true proposition that cannot be proven?

This would make all its prophecies and all its conspiracies lose their foundation, causing the illusion of its "omniscience" to completely collapse. Its so-called omniscience is nothing more than using the billions of computing power of the Warp to perform big-data-like predictions; once a loophole appears in logic, all deductions will become empty talk.

But if the proposition is false, then it can be proven. But what can be proven would then be a false proposition, and false-false becomes a true proposition again, falling into an endless cycle, unable to break free.

Since ancient times, it has always been Tzeentch who toyed with mortals, toyed with logic, and trapped opponents in endless confusion with paradoxes and conspiracies. But this time, it was toyed with in the palm of The Main Brain's hand using a simple human mathematical theorem.