Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

[Everyone is dead, and when Rogal Dorn stood on his flagship, his reaction was silence. He's always been like this, his silence is the norm, but this time it's different. Even a blind man could feel that terrible anger escaping in the air. 】

[Then came rumors—some said that Rogal Dorn had killed them. The Imperial Fists vehemently objected to the rumor, but to no avail. And in the next few years, worse things came one after another. 】

[First of all, the remaining think tanks began to die one by one. They didn't die in that disaster for a variety of reasons, some were on mission, others couldn't make it in time. I thought it was the beginning of luck, but I never thought that this would be the end of misfortune. 】

[Subsequently, none of the psykers selected from the Imperial Fist could coexist with Rog Dorn's gene seeds. No matter how good their physical fitness was before the operation, they could not survive the operation successfully. 】

[This seems to be a curse. They didn't know it at the time, but looking back now, it's just another harm done by those evil gods. 】

"I am more concerned about another matter than the evil gods he claimed to harm."

Corus Corax frowned: "He mentioned the Primarchs, but he didn't mention the word reader, which is not in line with his habits. Does this mean that he is crossing time and the world, telling us Use this text to have a conversation?"

There was a silence in the conference room.

Then, the old male lion spoke: "Your guess is not unreasonable, but it is chilling and absurd. How could an unknown scribe do such a thing?"

"His loyalty earned him the job," Robert Guilliman said. "And to get the job done, he'd have to look at the Emperor's memories... He might not be able to do that, but the Emperor could, wouldn't he?"

"I don't think the Emperor is capable of such a thing," Angron said.

He was still very calm, but the hands on his chest were clenched for some reason: "...If he could really see the future, this kind of thing would never happen."

"This imperial blood fist document written by the scribe Tangras did not come from 10,000 years ago." The center of the magic circle supported Angron with words.

Sanguinius frowned: "Is it the time we crossed the border? Is that right, the Center? That time, the captain brought these materials back? Or, earlier?"

"Sorry I can't reveal."

"So his name is Tangras." The Night Lord nodded.

"I hope he rests in peace..."

"You seem sure he's dead," Mortarion said.

"He's not going to survive, brother..."

Curz sighed and said pitifully in an aria-like tone. "How can a mortal still survive after seeing the Emperor's memory? He has already made a prediction about his own life. Of course I hope he lives, but..."

"We have to accept reality, don't we?"

He winked at Mortarion.

The Lord of Death turned his head sideways and ignored him.

Coz smiled, and said: "Then, the conclusion drawn by Tanglas, or our father—our other father... the conclusion he drew is that if it is not for the evil god harm, we will not be able to betray."

"It's not unreasonable." Chagatai nodded calmly. "However, more evidence is needed to prove it. He's the father, so of course he thinks so, but what if he's not?"

He scanned slowly and looked at the faces of everyone on the table: "What if some of us are destined to betray?"

"I don't like your use of the word doomed... eagle," Leon El'Jonson said slowly. "It shouldn't be here, fate doesn't exist."

"maybe."

Jaghatai shook his head pessimistically: "Maybe so—maybe it really doesn't exist. Maybe the so-called fate is just something made up by Tzeentch, and the future she can see is only based on our character's perception of the future. Deduction...maybe so, but we're not gods."

He was silent, and then said word by word: "We need evidence, we need to prove that the gods are not omnipotent, nor omniscient. The most important point is that we must prove that they cannot control fate, and fate does not exist."

A wolf howled, and a cold wind suddenly swept in. Leman Russ stood up slowly, the disguise of the barbarian king was thrown down by him, and there was a flash of light in his eyes, as if it was real.

The ancient language of Fenris was spoken by him.

"Defy fate!"

He roared, the cold wind was stern, he began to beat his chest, and the heavy drums began to sound in an orderly manner in response to the beating of the heart.

"Defy fate!"

The wind grew stronger, almost as if the wind on Fenris had really come down. The wolf king's hair fluttered wildly in the wind. He stood there fearlessly, staring straight ahead, roaring and hammering—he was obviously extremely haggard, but he seemed to be born again.

"Defy fate!"

"Well sung..."

Coz said softly, holding down his black hair in the cold wind, feeling a little helpless: "If you want me to say, it has an ancient rhyme, and it can even remind you of the scene when people held spears and hunted together in ancient times... ...But, Ruth, can you stop?"

The Wolf of Fenris laughed loudly, his fangs protruding from his lips, and there was no sign of stopping.

"Let him go, if he pleases," said the lion majestically. "It's not a problem - the center of the magic circle, continue."

"I'd be more than happy to do it for you if you didn't use that commanding tone."

Leon snorted coldly.

[Dorne was disturbed by this matter, however, his brother Perturabo was appointed by his father as the Kingsguard, and assumed the duty of guarding Terra. This incident dilutes everything, and anger ensues. Rogal Dorn could not understand why his father had given this responsibility to Perturabo. However, his anger didn't last long, or rather, he only had time to bury them deeply in his heart. 】

[The Great Crusade is still going on, he must do so. I am very sad about this because I now find out that his fault is not all from him...I see, yes my lord...they will too..... .】

At this point, the scrolling of the text is over, and it stops abruptly, extremely abruptly.

"What's the matter?" Leon El'Jonson frowned. "The center of the magic circle? I warn you, don't try to play unnecessary tricks at this time. If you want to take revenge on me, you can come and fight me face to face after this incident, instead of—"

"—that's not what it did."

A slightly tired voice sounded in the cold and howling room, and the faint golden glow covered everything. Ruth sat down obediently. Although he didn't receive orders, he always knew what he should do .

He covered his chest, and in the palm of his hand, a white light was faintly revealed.

Then he clenched it, as if holding a sword.

"Father?" Lai Ang asked hesitantly.

"it's me."

The light dimmed, and the Emperor struggled to straighten his body. Sanguinius hurriedly stepped forward to try to help, but his outstretched hand was slapped back without a trace.

"Thank you, but please go back and sit down, my son," said the Emperor. "I don't really like being supported... please forgive me."

Curz smiled lowly, and then consciously made a gesture of zipping his mouth.

"You can go on, Conrad, I don't mind."

"Oh, I don't mind at all, but I'm afraid that someone will jump over and grab my neck if I continue."

The lion snorted coldly again.

"Are you exhausted?" asked Robert Guilliman. "Is that the spell?"

"Yes, that spell..."

The emperor shook his head, he stood at the very front of the round table, in the reserved position, but did not choose to sit down. The golden armor was shining, his expression was tired, but his eyes were as calm as ever.

"I'm not very good at these kinds of spells," he said. "So it's a lot of work, but fortunately, it's not too difficult. He even counts that."

The emperor was silent for a moment.

"...As for what you are about to hear, I have no intention of obstructing you, but I want you to understand one thing."

He looked at them all sadly.

"...I have never thought of giving up on anyone." The human master bowed his waist, lowered his head, and said in his deepest voice. "there has never been."

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