Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Some people are very stubborn, very stubborn.

This stubbornness can take many forms, such as being stubborn and refusing to accept the advice of others. Or it can manifest itself like Perturabo. Fulgrim has become one of these since his resurrection, but he is still in his early days.

I mean, he's just being tough.

Such as now.

Even though he had already picked up his weapon and was ready to attack, he still stubbornly talked about how unreliable Ruth's plan was.

"I can't believe you two agreed to his damn plan to rush into that damn place with the whole ship - can that be called a plan?"

Fulgrim gave full play to his eloquence, his words were so poignant, and his expression so mean that it was unbelievable: "Farmers farming on remote planets, or brain-damaged Khorne berserkers can use their feet

Thumbs up with a better plan than this!"

Angron glanced at Phoenix in disgust, wondering why he had to show an attitude of 'I don't agree'.

So he started directly: "If you are afraid, you don't have to go, little Phoenix. You don't want to have a few more scars on your face. I can understand it. After all, women are very concerned about their appearance, right?"

"

"What a metaphor!"

The Wolf King on the side looked at the fun and grinned without hesitation, laughed heartlessly, and actually clapped his hands: "Okay! Okay! Brother, you are much more eloquent than the person I know!"

The archangel stood on one side, looking at these three unreliable brothers with a melancholy face, and had already begun to sigh in his heart.

He felt rather like he was in charge of three children at this time - and, based on his understanding of Fulgrim, the Chemos would definitely not give up after hearing Angron's words.

As expected, Fulgrim became furious and raised the power sword condensed from psychic energy in his hand: "Who are you calling a woman?!"

Angron did not answer his question immediately, but looked around - there were only four of them in the conference room. Why was he pretending? The answer was self-evident.

After looking around, he turned his gaze back and stared at Fulgrim's face. He didn't say anything, just showed a provocative smile.

"Fight, fight!" Ruth cheered. "I will give the winner a barrel of wine!"

Sanguinius could stand them no longer.

The white wings suddenly opened, and a deliberately dazzling golden light was revealed, making it almost difficult for the other three to open their eyes. His voice came from this light, not as gentle as usual, and sounded like a dark cloud

Thunder inside.

He said bitterly: "My brothers, how about you behave more maturely? I don't want to judge your character, because your character is almost as bad! Fulgrim, you are now starting to turn towards Dorne.

Have you learned and want to work hard to make everyone hate you?"

"Angron, could you please stop teasing him? Does it give you pleasure to deliberately annoy others?"

"As for you, Ruth, why are you laughing?"

After he finished speaking, the scene finally became a little quieter. The archangel sighed tiredly and began to communicate with Wen Zhen.

Rubbing his eyebrows, he said: "Let the guards get ready, let's - forget it, let them gather in the lower hangar, let's say these things in person."

"There are also the Emperor's Sons." Fulgrim stood up and continued speaking with a serious expression. "Thor takes the lead. All the Emperor's Sons must be present."

"You only have sixty-three heirs, Fulgrim, are you sure you want them to participate?" Angron tapped his fingers on the table, asking casually.

"certainly."

The Chemos nodded calmly: "No matter how small the number is, they are still the sons of the Emperor. No matter how many enemies there are, we will not escape. They have been sleeping for ten thousand years. Now, it is time to take revenge."

Russ grinned and looked at his somewhat strange brother with great satisfaction. In the past, he had never had a good relationship with Fulgrim and other 'cultured people', and he couldn't explain the reason himself, but now it seems that

Come......

"I have to say, I'm starting to like you a little bit, Fulgrim." He laughed wildly, stood up, and hammered his chest. "Ah! The familiar pre-war mobilization! What a beautiful rhythm,

Let's get started quickly, I can't wait to kill some monsters!"

----------------------------------------

A demon is breathing.

It was hidden in the darkness, with blood-red cables draped wildly behind its head, with a skull hanging at the end of each knot.

They originally belonged to some people, but now they are just trophies.

Rolling thunder came from above the monster's head, and it took action.

The monster opened its eyes, and a bright red light lit up in the darkness. It did not speak or speak, but silently radiated its anger.

The scarlet river gushes out of the void, as if it is a real existence, stopping in front of it, reflecting its terrifying face.

Then, a voice sounded from above its head.

The darkness trembled, and the mist of blood spread from the distance and began to obscure its vision, causing the monster to let out an angry roar. It waved its claws and tried to tear away the mist, but it could not do this. Because they

Won't let it go.

Just like it never spared those innocent people.

"Go kill them..."

A sound like a war drum played in its ears, mixed with the clash of swords and the roar of warriors. Its heart began to beat in unison, following the rhythm of the war drum, each one becoming more powerful than the next.

He whispers in the ears of His monsters: "They are coming... the Reborn, the Wolf of Fool, your mirror image, the Angel... Go kill them, my warriors, go kill them

,bring me their skulls..."

The monster did not move or respond. Every inch of its muscles was tempered by the sound, becoming stronger and more terrifying. But its soul was not, its broken soul was surging.

For a moment - a terrifyingly brief moment, it became him.

The scarlet eyes returned to their previous color, but were cloudy and filled with pain.

The monster bent down, hunched over, scratching his chest with his sharp claws, as if he wanted to dig out his heart - he failed, and a sigh sounded in the darkness.

In this world, nightmares are constant and nightmares are real. The so-called wakefulness is destined to only exist for a moment.

Soon, it came back.

That voice laughed wildly with satisfaction. Eight hundred and eighty-eight worlds trembled for this laughter. However, in the chaos, there were another eight hundred and eighty-eight worlds that were delighted by it.

His laughter is the trumpet of war, His joy is its destiny...

The monster's incomplete mind has already understood the fact that it has become a slave of Khorne and will spend the rest of its life killing just to please him.

It walked out of the darkness, and a wild wind blew up on the wasteland made of blood and bones. The wind howled, sounding like the screams of the resentful souls before they died.

The strong wind howled - howled - howled non-stop, until it blew up the corpses, rolled up the remaining limbs and weapons, and formed a huge whirlwind that rolled straight towards the monster.

But it didn't make any move, and the monster allowed this hatred to wrap around itself - and soon, a ferocious brass armor covered its body.

Then came a torrent of blood.

Pouring out from the corpses of the victims, their long-dried corpses were bleeding again at this moment, converging into a long rolling river, which actually covered the dark sky and formed a sun of blood in the sky.

The wind still hasn't stopped.

The wind howled, the wasteland boiled, and the ground trembled.

This world-destroying scene is just for unsheathing a sword.

A flash of black light flashed, and a black rune sword broke out from under the ground where the corpses had turned.

It once again destroyed the bones of the victims it killed, cutting off their bones in the storm, and returned to its master's hands with howls in the wind.

The demon held the sword, and the skulls hanging on the brass armor collided with each other, making a sound like metal.

It breathed heavily, and the huge scarlet wings behind it suddenly opened up. A storm dozens of times more violent than before was generated with a single swing of the wings, and the body was shattered.

A roar sounded - countless demons gush out from the blood sun in the sky with joy, gush out from the bones of the dead, and gush out from the darkness behind the monster.

The bloodletters howled and formed a battle formation, the huge brass beasts exhaled their fiery breath impatiently, and the flesh hounds bit each other at the feet of their masters...

Skull cannons, brass scorpions, silent warriors wearing thick brass armor and holding giant axes - demons, monsters, and those who are thirsty for killing stand here, the swords in their hands are still dripping with blood, as if they have just returned from a killing

.

The monster looked at all this without sadness or joy. There was only numbness and emptiness in its mind, without any joy. The voice rang again: "Let the war begin!"

As a result, the storm gradually subsided, the bones no longer trembled, and even the demons disappeared. Only the terrifying laughter still echoed here.

The above nightmarish scenes are undoubtedly beyond human imagination, and normal humans cannot remain unmoved after seeing such scenes. This is the resurrection of nightmares, and the devil will soon reappear in the world, setting off a boundless sea of ​​blood. However, by chance,

There is more than one place in the universe where this is happening.

Such as the collection of Trazyn the Endless.

The universe-famous undead knocked on his metal skull and made a surprised synthesized sound: "Oh, where is my collection...?"

The display cabinet in front of him was already empty. It originally contained precious collections he obtained in a transaction. It was a person who once pursued perfection and later fell into darkness. The Lord of Joy made it a

It is the embodiment of a nightmare, but dreams will eventually wake up.

It was captured, trapped, and traded without dignity.

Trazin was originally very fond of this new collection. Who else in the universe could collect a living Daemon Prince of Slaanesh? But now it has disappeared.

The Endless One was not angry at all, but was tapping his bones thoughtfully. The visual sensors of his body were warning frantically, telling him that there was excessive psychic energy raging here, but Trazin did not panic at all.

.

On the contrary, he asked very calmly: "Honorable Salish, why did you come to steal my collection in person?"

A chuckle rang out from the darkness of his library, and the mixed voices of men and women spoke elegant words lightly. He did not deliberately appear seductive, but the few words were already fascinating enough, just because he

It's the temptation itself.

"That's my poor man, why are you still confusing right and wrong, Necromancer?"

Trazin shook his head unmoved: "I made a deal with a mage... Your poor thing is now my collection, noble Salish, stealing is also

Does it bring you joy?”

"Of course not." The voice became serious, but the naturally playful ending was extremely heart-wrenching. "Besides, I just get back what belongs to me... This is also called

Stealing?"

"I made a deal." Trazin reiterated again. "Is it possible for you to deny this?"

"ah......"

He sighed with a sad voice. If Trazyn hadn't been a Necron, I'm afraid he would have started to kneel down and beg for His forgiveness right now.

"I like your boldness, Necromancer - would you be interested in playing a game with me?"

After sighing, His voice suddenly sounded in Trazin's ears, his breath was like blue, and the deadly musky smell began to spread around. Trazin's body did not have the olfactory function, but he still smelled it through some form of smell.

'Here's the taste.

He knew that this could already be considered a threat.

"...It's better to waive it, distinguished Salish. Of course you can take your things, I have no objection."

The Endless One just wants to send this great god away as soon as possible. He never thought that Slaanesh could do this - or in other words, he never thought that Slaanesh could be so shameless.

"That's not what you just said... Hehe, I know you won't let this matter go, so go ahead and do it, Necromancer."

"Try and see if you can catch it again, even if you ask for help from others. This is my promise. As long as you catch Fulgrim one more time, it will be yours forever... It will become

Your forever collection.”

Slaanesh's voice became tearful, and I felt pity for him: "Although it is my treasure...if it is taken away, I will be very painful...but...

.I'm looking forward to the pain. I've never experienced anything like this."

A faint cry was heard, and Trazin's visual and auditory sensors simultaneously let out an overwhelmed whine, and finally exploded at the same time. He fell to the ground, the green light in his eyes flickering, but Slaanesh's voice penetrated

It penetrated his damaged hearing sensor and penetrated into his long-defunct soul.

"Go ahead and find him... I know you'll tell him about it, it's okay, I'm looking forward to seeing my dear mage again - remember to bring him my regards. Don't

Forget, undead..."

The darkness receded, and Trazin stood up silently, without saying a word, as if he was really dead.