Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Destiny once again revealed to him.

Relying on the power of numerology.

As always, the vague, chaotic, fragmented, inarticulate, mountain-like monster pulled out countless raving words from its rotten intestines, and then poured them all into the body made of sticky phlegm and filth. It was cooked in a rusty iron cauldron and then brought to him.

He needed to drink it all in one gulp, until even the rust on the edge of the pot was as clean as new, until the swollen, distorted pain filled his mind again, coming in like a tide, and then fading away like a tide, in There were crystal clear spots of light left on the dark green beach: this was what he needed in the end.

The future of life and the mystery of the universe were once again displayed before his eyes.

Yes, this is painful. It is a huge psychological and physical challenge. Swallowing those non-existent, bitter liquids like bile is not easier than wiping out an entire alien race with your own hands. The throat of reality It may even produce a genuine vomiting reaction: but this is precisely the core of numerology and its greatest charm.

Only by enduring the greatest suffering, only by experiencing the most terrifying torture, can he welcome the moment when all the suffering is over and the sweetness comes, and pick the sweet fruits of the galaxy with his own hands: and the countless universes shown to him by numerology in predictions again and again. Compared with the secret, the pain it requires is nothing more than an equivalent sacrifice.

What's more, isn't this exactly in line with his Mortarion's concept of life: If you can't overcome the bitterness that ordinary people can't bear, how can you get the glory that is unreachable by ordinary people? The concept of survival of the fittest is the only truth that will persist in this cruel and savage galaxy, and truth will have its rewards.

He is a living example. Among all the Primarch brothers, only Mortarion implements pure truth, and fate has given him such powerful power: while his brothers are still in the torrent of fate, they are at a loss. While he was drifting helplessly with the current, he was able to look up at the real galaxy, becoming the first hero among all people to dare to swim upstream.

He knows that everyone will look at him like a monster, and anger, ridicule and abuse will follow: let them come, he doesn't mind offending everyone, and he doesn't mind being enemies of these poor blind people, there will always be One day, they will be busy thanking him.

Even Magnus is no exception.

No: Magnus is especially important. Prospero's monarch and his mad legions will be the first trumpets of the truthers in this war to destroy ignorance, although this will have to wait a long time. Time, but what he lacks most is plenty of patience.

In his life so far, patience has been his greatest weapon, more deadly than the sickle and bullets in his hands: it was his strong endurance that allowed him to withstand the attacks of the alien warlords on Barbarus. The proud poisonous fog defense line chopped off their ugly heads in the astonished eyes of these monsters.

It was precisely by relying on his strong endurance that he was able to withstand the terrible backlash of numerology again and again. Through the countless interlacing changes of playing cards and symbols, he was able to glimpse the real secret in the galaxy: that is, even the emperor and the The person holding the seal must come forward in person and explain the secret to him in tactful words.

They must explain to him, or try to trick him into believing that the strange passage hidden under the Palace of Terra seems to lead to a place that cannot be seen; The weird black stone in the world called Cadia is covered with a creepy aura; and the place located in the deepest part of the Sun Star Territory, where Holy Terra can take action to cover it at any time, from The nameless galaxy that has been wiped off all star maps of the empire has the best protection in the entire galaxy.

Under the dazzling light of the Great Crusade, in the bright garb of the Imperium of Man, some things that obviously do not want to be known to outsiders are growing secretly like the torrent underground: the Emperor and his most trusted servants are obviously taking care of it. Some of the shady things, the so-called withdrawal from the Great Crusade and the canonization of the Warmaster, are just smoke bombs released to cover up these dirty secrets.

Their loyalty was betrayed, and the tears of the entire Great Crusade were used: no wonder the Lord of Mankind never refused to tell them why he wanted to return to Terra. It turned out that this was just a matter of necessity after promising countless lies. Another bigger lie fabricated.

They even wanted him to believe that all this was harmless and beneficial to the empire and human civilization: especially his hypocritical genetic father, who actually put on a look of concern and wanted to use sweet words to Make him believe those clumsy lies.

They are all equally hypocritical...disgusting...

They are even kidnapping him, kidnapping his finally free emotions: Why can they assume that he is a hero who is willing to give up everything for the so-called empire, the so-called humans? What qualifications did they have to force him onto a sacrificial chariot? Did he arbitrarily promise his freedom and power without his consent?

Of course, he certainly doesn't mind becoming a respected hero, and he doesn't object to people cheering around him. Although such cheers will inevitably make him bored if they last for too long, but in the final analysis, he is Someone who doesn't mind becoming a hero who needs to shed blood or even take the risk of sacrifice.

He saved Barbarus for this.

However, all of this must be based on his complete voluntariness and must be something he wants to do, rather than being forced into the arena: as long as he is given a reason and time to prepare, he will obviously do it. Can be everyone's hero, but these hypocritical bastards always take away this birthright!

He would be a hero, but not one they forced onto him.

What's more, what kind of hero is he hiding these suspicious secrets for them? Whether it is the webway hidden under the Royal Palace of Terra, or the black stone that is gradually rising on Cadia, or the spiritual aura that emanates from time to time on the heavily guarded unknown star system, it all demonstrates the understanding of the subspace. Abuse of power.

Massive, unrestrained abuse.

So scary, so weird

This was especially true for the third galaxy, because even numerology could not show him what that heavily guarded galaxy, with at least 500 Imperial Guards stationed there, was protecting: the Milky Way. Is there anything in the world so important that it requires thousands of mortal legions and an equal number of battleships to guard just one galaxy?

Guarded for a full fifty years!

But it is obvious that even just knowing the existence of this galaxy is enough for Malcador, the master of all things, to personally take a trip to his Endurance: just to prevent him from leaking the secret.

It’s really funny to think back to the way this old immortal was bludgeoning, coercing, and sighing in front of him: Malcador even dared to use the upcoming Nakaia meeting as reward, promising him to attend the meeting at that meeting. to try to convince Mortarion of the poor cover-ups he and the Emperor had given to the above three issues.

It's ridiculous: it's like he didn't predict what would happen on Nicaea.

…

Of course he predicted it.

That was a result he didn't like.

This is also the reason why he is ready to have a good talk with his witch sister.

"..."

"Tsk...it's really unpleasant..."

"This feeling of being slighted..."

"Makado...you old dog..."

Mortarion opened his eyes, and the last curse on the palmer slipped out quietly from the corners of his dry mouth, echoing in the almost undecorated room, and finally disappeared into the simple picture with three smeared words. Above the dark green military flag with a snow-white skull, this is the war symbol of the Fourteenth Legion.

The Lord of Death stood up, his slender, waxy face hidden under the worn hooded robe, and the corners of his mouth that were exposed were filled with lifeless annoyance as usual. He simply paced in his lounge, breathing in the sounds on the ceiling. The weird Barbarus air slightly relieves the backlash of numerology.

The Primarch was not happy, he still could not reason out the result he wanted.

Stopping and pondering for a moment, Mortarion's eyes suddenly turned to the only brass-colored door in this lounge. Two Death Shrouds, as silent as dead men, were guarding there, but the original body's eyes were not for them. : With superhuman senses, his ears were able to penetrate iron gates that were strong enough to withstand large-scale shelling, as well as a spatial distance of several thousand meters, and hear the two sets of footsteps he had been waiting for.

A man who is firm and steady, as calm as a knight patrolling the land.

This is Garo.

The other is cautious and restrained, and every step sounds the same as it did a hundred years ago.

This is Typhon.

The First Company Commander and the Seventh Company Commander, the respective leaders of the Barbarian soldiers and the Terran soldiers in the legion, the two people he valued most, his most trusted friends and the most admired heirs: it is obvious that two people accomplished it at the same time. After completing the tasks assigned to them by the original body, they happened to meet each other again when they returned to cross paths.

Mortarion did not want to admit that this was an intentional result on his part: he had actually always wanted to know if Typhon and Garro would meet in private, by chance, without him being present. Start chatting? What else will we talk about?

The most important thing is: Will he, the father of genes, be among the topics they discuss?

Will they confide some dissatisfaction and shortcomings about Mortarion that they would not dare to express in ordinary times? The advice has been accumulated in their hearts for many years, but due to the pressure and identity of the Primarch, they cannot Are you pointing it out as freely as before?

Has pure friendship or father-son affection given way to fear and apprehension? An invisible barrier blocks these heartfelt words?

The Lord of Death didn't know whether he expected to hear this or not, but the reality more or less disappointed him: when Typhon and Gallo met unexpectedly in the corridor, both of them did show some enthusiasm. Surprised, Typhon greeted him warmly, and Gallo responded indifferently. Then, under the former's warm invitation, he walked with him to the original body's office.

That's all.

Before they knocked on Mortarion's door side by side, the two most trusted sons of the Lord of Death did not say a word: this made him a little angry, although he did not hear the hateful private complaints, but He also did not see the camaraderie that should exist between battle brothers.

They are obviously so good, shouldn't they appreciate each other?

Such annoyance made the primarch's face as dry as old tree bark: so when Typhon and Gallo pushed open the door, they were faced with a gloomy dark cloud.

Gallo's brows jumped, but he maintained his expression as much as possible, trying not to think about what happened again. Typhon on the side looked more submissive. He was obviously angry because of the Primarch's anger. Trembling, but in the invisible heart, all Typhon issued was a contemptuous sneer.

But no matter what, the two Death Guards lowered their heads, and after withstanding the eyes of the Death Shrouds, they moved forward a total of 7,749 steps, and finally stood in front of Mortarion: Death The Lord cast his own shadow like a mountain. After thinking for a moment, he turned his attention to Jialuo.

"People sent him away?"

"Yes, my lord."

Jia Luo bowed and saluted.

"I watched Lord Sealmaster and his followers board the shuttle."

"grown ups……"

The Primarch chewed on the word, a hint of derision evident deep in his hood.

"You don't need to respect him so much, my seventh company commander: a few more courtesy will not make the palmer look favorably on our battleship. Only strength and truth will make that cunning old bone look more favorably. You glance."

"The same goes for other people."

Both heirs trembled: they instinctively realized who the [other person] was referring to.

"Didn't he say anything more?"

"No."

Gaara paused.

"Lord Sealmaster just gave me a few words of praise for the Death Guard Legion's achievements."

"That's all he can give: not even a decent medal."

This time, the Lord of Death simply hummed, no longer covering up: Gallo continued to maintain his silence, trying not to dwell on the conflict between the original body and Terra, while Typhon next to him was equally humble, but In his heart, he still muttered quietly.

Even if you have a medal, I'm afraid you will throw it into the trash can, right?

A coward who doesn't even dare to win honors: Why should my original body be such a pitiful creature?

Typhon's face was distorted, and before he could recover, he felt the original body's gaze shifted to him. The captain quickly lowered his head to ensure that Mortarion could never see him. Face.

"Don't be so nervous, Typhon."

The original body smiled as gently as possible, but Typhon still hesitated for a while before slowly straightening his waist: the bitterness surging in his heart proved that the captain must have pinned the cause of this embarrassment on Mortarion's head.

"How's your mission going?"

Lord Barbarus carefully considered his tone: he always felt that the friendship between him and his best friend seemed to be gradually cooling down during these days, so he kept looking for solutions, but so far I can't think of any clever ideas.

"Everything is as you wish, my lord."

Typhon lowered his voice.

"Neither the Dawnbreakers nor the Ultramarines have refused our invitation. They will arrive on time: Lord Guilliman specifically expressed his gratitude to you for inviting Lord Morgan at the same time."

"That's all he has."

Mortarion spat.

"Without Morgan's eloquence, he can't even hide his ambitions."

"My Macragge brother thought I asked him to come to the Endurance for something serious: he was just a sideshow during my talks with Morgan, and for the Empire and the entire Great Crusade, The positive value he possesses stops there.”

"He also said he had specially prepared a gift for you. Do we need to hold up space for this?"

"Guilliman has some brains on this issue."

Typhon's words stunned the Lord of Death for a moment.

He thought for a moment.

"No need, no matter what he plans to give me, I am not going to leave it on the Endurance: In addition, Typhon, you also go and help me prepare two gifts, one for Morgan and Guilliman each. I don’t want them to seize the opportunity and talk behind my back.”

"clear."

The overly conspicuous hesitation of the captain caught Mortarion's attention.

"Why, are there any difficulties?"

"It's not difficult at all."

Typhon hesitated.

"It's just that there have been some different discussions among the battle brothers of the legion: after many people learned that you were about to ceremoniously receive the original body of the Dawnbreaker legion on the Endurance, they felt strange as to why you did this. After all, according to our previous knowledge, you would not be such a useless person, let alone..."

"What's more, this is a sensitive moment when the Nicaean Conference is about to take place."

Jialuo added the second half of the sentence: Terran soldiers obviously have the same problem.

"Nikea..."

Mortarion shook his head helplessly: he was not surprised that these questions appeared.

"It was Nikaea who made me finally make this decision: Do you think I want to waste my precious tea on a sister like Morgan who studies witchcraft, and that coward Macragge who has accomplished nothing? I'm just here for Nikaea."

The two company commanders looked at each other and saw confusion in each other's eyes.

"Do you know?"

The Lord of Death raised his head and slowly raised three fingers.

"Three times, three times have I divined: three times fate has given me the same result."

"On Nikaea, I saw three signs about the future of the Empire. They will definitely happen, because numerology has never been wrong. It has shown me three futures that will happen three times."

"..."

The Primarch was silent for a moment.

His face was distorted, as if he was in fear and anger, but in this inexplicable weirdness, the Primarch spoke slowly.

"First."

"Nikaea is not the end of Magnus, at least not his complete end: in the future, one or some decisions of Magnus will seem to have a profound impact on the entire Empire and even the entire galaxy."

"It will affect all of us."

He paused: admitting these words made Mortarion very unwilling.

"Second."

"After Nikaea, those psychic wizards will continue their activities."

"But they will be much weaker: my resistance and efforts are effective after all."

"And the third point is the most important."

The Primarch's eyes became ferocious, and his descendants trembled under his breath.

"Right here on the land of Nicaea, I saw the rise of a powerful psyker."

"An extremely powerful psyker."

"A psyker as powerful as Malcador, Morgan, and Magnus."

"Even more terrible than them."

"..."

"I don't know who he is, just as I don't know what Magnus will do, the future doesn't tell me: but I am sure that whoever this rising guy is, he will disrupt the entire galaxy and mess up everything we all fought and bled for."

"And, whoever he is..."

"I saw..."

The Primarch took a deep breath.

"I know: he must be my brother, one of the Emperor's children."

"He rose on the land of Nicaea and became the most terrible wizard in history."