Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

[By the way, Conrad: Have you seen Alpharius recently? ]

"Why do you suddenly care about them?"

[Them? Don't we have only one brother named Alpharius? ]

"One?"

#Nostramo-style weird laugh. ＃

"Why do I remember it was three? Or more: who can tell about the Hydra? Maybe we can find a dozen Alpharius, and if we kill one, two more will be born on the corpse, until they flood the world."

[……]

[You have a bad opinion of him: I remember that was the case with Randan. ]

"It's just a bad fate between colleagues."

Conrad licked his tongue and squatted on the ground with a lazy look on his face. The dark blue power armor was covered with dust from the basalt, which made the Spider Queen frown beside him: whenever the mature and reliable Midnight Haunter was alone with his beloved reborn parents, he would happily go back to his childhood and carefully increase the blood pressure of the Spider Queen.

Then, when the pile was almost reaching the critical point, he quickly called the others over.

As long as there were outsiders present, Morgan would not be able to do anything to Conrad, and Conrad would have to be obedient and sensible in return: this invisible mother-son tacit understanding would naturally make Midnight Haunter often pay a heavy price afterwards. After all, Morgan was not an amnesiac, so he naturally knew who was the culprit.

But it was fun: how could it be called fun if there was no awareness of risking one's life?

The worst result was just to add a fresh inventory to Conrad's own private blood bank: he asked Sevita to keep the key to the cold storage, after all, the flesh and blood of the original body was a precious commodity with no market, and maybe it would come in handy one day in the future.

I'll trade you with the heart of the original body.

How many businessmen in the galaxy could resist such a bid?

Midnight Haunter shook his head, feeling proud of his good idea, but Morgan beside him fell into thinking.

[Traveling together? How can you say that?]

"Isn't this obvious?"

Conrad silently changed his posture: even if he was the Primarch, his feet would get numb from squatting.

"If there is no Alpha Legion, the professional field that my Midnight Lords Legion is responsible for may be broader, and the burden on my shoulders will be much lighter: if the Eighth Legion is an organization responsible for both intelligence and suppression activities from the beginning, then even without me, I don't have to worry about Sevatar and others going to extremes."

"Our father made a mistake when he founded the various legions. He gave some responsibilities too broadly, which led to the rapid expansion of the power of some legions, but divided other responsibilities too finely, piling up several legions and causing a waste of labor."

"Think about it, Morgan, the legions responsible for secret operations alone include the Dark Angels, Space Wolves, Midnight Lords, Raven Guards and Alpha: each of them is responsible for a tiny part, and a quarter of the legion's strength is wasted in the shadows."

"What's more: some of them are really bad at their jobs."

[Alpharius? 】

"That's right: the final outcome of Hydra is that each head will attack each other."

"Even if our Alpharius brothers hold a secret meeting of the highest level in private to discuss their most important mission: Morgan, believe it or not, no one present will tell the truth, and any conclusion they finally draw is useless. Whether loyal to the Emperor or against the Emperor, there will always be another half of Hydra secretly turning against them."

[What does this have to do with me? ]

"Maybe in the future."

Conrad blinked at her.

"In a sense: both of us are part of your blood."

"Your blood flows in my soul."

[...]

Morgan's eyebrows jumped.

[You...two? ]

[You, and Alpharius? ]

"Any questions: my dearest foster mother?"

Midnight Ghost grinned, revealing a bright smile.

#Morgan-style confusion#

At this moment, the Spider Queen felt that she should have some reaction to this sentence: what should she do immediately?

Before she figured it out, Morgan could start to act.

She knew what the result would be.

——————

"Ah, the invincible Conrad has fallen."

"What a pity: I should have sold him a Macragge life insurance policy a long time ago."

"Write my name in the beneficiary column."

A spirited and well-dressed Macragge man took out a special candy from his pocket, crushed it and threw it directly into his mouth: the residue fell to the ground, making a hissing sound, and there was a pungent white smoke when the magma cooled.

On the other side, Guilliman flexibly moved the hem of his ceremonial armor, which was supposed to be inconvenient to move, to avoid the blood splashing on him a few meters away: the guards standing behind them had no such concerns, and the expressionless golden helmet was dotted with dark red blood, which made it even more weird.

It's really strange...

Guilliman was chewing gum that would probably make Mortarion foam at the mouth, but he couldn't help shaking his head inwardly: He didn't know when exactly he started, but he had become accustomed to the relationship between Morgan and Conrad. The parent-child ceremony involves punches and flesh flying, and you can even guess the Spider Queen's current mood based on the angle when the blood spatters and the order in which organs slip off first.

It should be quite bad, it should be at the level of being able to scare away Jonson but not Russ: This is not surprising: the heartless Fenrisian wolfdog is always bolder, Jonson's eyesight must be stronger A lot.

But the real question is...

The primarch's gaze tilted slightly.

Why do these forbidden troops in front of me seem so accustomed to it?

What kind of image does his gentle Avalon blood relative look like outside?

I can’t figure it out: I’d better eat sweets.

When he was stimulating his brain cells with neurotoxins imported from Catachan to ensure that he could maintain full performance at the upcoming Nikaea Conference, Guilliman noticed that Morgan had pulled down his sleeves. Brushing away the blood, she came in front of him with a smile on her face.

[Made you laugh, Robert. 】

"Ah, it's nothing: I haven't seen you two interact for a long time anyway, I miss you."

"It's a pity that Jonson and Corax are not here."

Guilliman shook his head.

[Jonson is at the venue. He is not suitable for the current situation. As for Corax, he should be with Sanguinius. They will bring Mortarion with them: they want him to live with Magnus. Not easy. 】

"Mortarion?"

The Macraggean's brows twitched.

"What do you want him to do?"

[He insisted on it himself: He said he wanted to supervise Magnus's last journey. 】

"Isn't this the job of an angel?"

[Now it’s ours. 】

Morgan smiled.

[A few of us were responsible for escorting Magnus to the bronze door. Sanguinius, who was guarding there, was responsible for opening the door in front of Magnus and informing everyone in the venue that the suspect on trial was about to be arrested. Gnuth has arrived at the Emperor's command, and is about to face his trial. 】

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..."

Guilliman shook his head.

"I bet Sanguinius didn't do it willingly, right?"

[When he asked me to carry the Warmaster's crown for him on Ullanor, I did so voluntarily. 】

The slightly ferocious smile on Morgan's face made Guilliman obediently shut his mouth. He could naturally recognize that it was the joy of successful revenge: presumably out of sight, the two good sisters were holding each other's hands. Sore spot, absent-minded fighting for a while.

For a high-end game like this, he could just squat aside and watch.

Guilliman bit the candy into pieces. After the temporary dizziness, he felt his brain was incredibly clear and energetic: he was glad that this tonic that Morgan had prepared for him had no addictive effect. Otherwise, it would really give He's causing some trouble.

The Macragge shook his head.

He caught a glimpse of red light on the horizon.

——————

"Long time no see, brother Magnus."

"Yeah, long time no see."

He raised his hand, waved it vigorously, pulled up the muscles at the corners of his mouth, and tried his best to pull out a smile: Magnus felt that everything he did was so deliberate and could not hide the tension in his heart. .

Fortunately, none of his beloved siblings seemed to notice this.

But then again: aren't there too many people standing here to greet him?

King Prospero's eyes were now focused on Conrad, who was the first to come to him and stretched out his arms carelessly: The Midnight Ghost dressed himself spotlessly, except for the robe on his body that looked a little messy, looking like He had just experienced a tragic battle, but his complexion was quite rosy.

Behind Conrad, Morgan, Guilliman and Corax stood side by side, with Mortarion further back. He was the only one among everyone present who did not smile at him: Magnus naturally ignored it. There were numerous Custodes Guards and Sisters of Silence on both sides of the road.

He walked forward, embraced his brothers warmly, and greeted in a low voice: Mortarion only nodded coldly. He was a little disappointed to learn that Sanguinius and Jaghatai Khan had been killed by the Emperor. The emperor arranged a temporary task, but they arrived at the venue in time.

"Is it Malcador's fault again?"

When everyone stood shoulder to shoulder, casting shadows in the incredibly wide volcanic corridor, the deep-rooted desire to perform climbed into his brain again: Magnus couldn't wait to speak, and the questioning tone in his tone made Motali Andu seemed a little gentle.

"You should show respect to the Emperor and the Chancellor of all mankind, Magnus."

Guilliman reminded him.

"I've given him my respect: he deserves nothing more from me."

Magnus waved his hand casually. Rather than competing with Guilliman, he preferred to admire Perturabo's exquisite work: the military-style molten tools carved out a wide and safe path through the ancient volcano. , the nearly transparent shell allows travelers to even see the gradually solidifying magma above their heads. The crystal veins on the winding walls are like silver blades wielded by nature, dividing the clearly visible sedimentary rock layers into different layers. Two copies of the rules.

There was a blazing torch between each of them: even for the most solemn meeting place in the entire empire, the light here was too abundant. Magnus felt like he was walking by the sun, and even his mood became brighter.

I don’t know if it was affected by this: he felt that the tone of the conversation was so cheerful.

Even if they were talking about Malcador.

[The Sigillite is still worthy of respect. ]

Morgan said one thing, but the playfulness in her eyes still betrayed her.

[Many people in the empire believe that in addition to the superficial abilities and responsibilities, Malcador occupies a special place in the heart of the Emperor, our father. In popular terms, he is a confidant. If it were the opposite sex, maybe he would go a step further. 】

"Like Robert's parents?"

Corax turned his head curiously: he was responsible for separating Mortarion and the other brothers present on both sides of him, because the Lord of Death seemed to be particularly friendly to the Primarch of the Raven Guard, perhaps because they had the same humble and difficult birth environment.

"The king and his capable queen."

"That's different."

In the relaxed laughter of the brothers, only the person involved shook his head seriously.

"First, my adoptive father, Lord Connor, is the governor of Macragge, not the king."

"Second, there is no husband-wife relationship between Lord Connor and Lady Euden."

"..."

For a while, the air was a little quiet.

"Aren't they your adoptive parents?"

After being surprised, Corax asked the confusion in the hearts of everyone present: even Mortarion turned his head curiously.

"That's right, but..."

Guilliman scratched his head.

"They are my adoptive parents, but they are not married to each other. Lady Euton is the chief steward of Lord Connor's palace: they will attend public events together, play the role of family in raising me, and occasionally rest together in the same room, but strictly speaking, Lady Euton is not Lord Connor's wife."

"..."

"Then who is responsible for the role of the wife of the Archon of Macragge?"

"When necessary: ​​Lady Euton."

Guilliman scratched his head again: even he felt that something was wrong, but the stubbornness in his heart prevailed, and the Primarch decided to explain it again.

"The main reason is that Lady Euton is here, Lord Connor feels that he doesn't need to get married: after all, the marriage system was popular on Macragge, and the official wife is mostly just an empty title. The position that is really responsible for threading needles and maneuvering within the powerful class is the [Official Mistress], but it is obviously not worthy of Lady Euton's ability."

"Official... Mistress?"

Corax was already a little stunned.

"It's a very normal thing."

Morgan next to him yawned.

"My adoptive father of Avalon also has an official mistress of his own, called Countess Pompadour."

"Is she a countess?"

"No, she was born a socialite, but her husband is a count, so he can send her to my adoptive father's bed: she relies on contributing male favorites to my adoptive mother to maintain her influence."

"But...but this..."

Corax's eyes widened: he felt as if he had stepped into a new world.

"Don't worry, brother."

Magnus also waved his hand.

"The chaotic relationship between some mortal nobles is far beyond your imagination: before my reign, in Prospero, the nobles used to marry their own brothers and sisters to maintain their pure-blood tradition. I remember that the home planet of Chagatai Khan was the same."

"Of course."

It was Conrad who took over.

"I visited Chogoris, and Chagatai introduced me to his adoptive mothers: I remember one of them was his adoptive mother and sister-in-law, another was his niece and sister in theory, and another was actually his grandmother before that."

"The bad habits of mortals..."

"Who says it's not?"

Morgan, Conrad, Magnus and Guilliman: several brothers laughed helplessly or knowingly. These guys were either members of the powerful class since they were born, or had already eaten and seen it. They casually took out these ancient rumors and shook them, just to relieve the tension in the air.

But when they turned their heads and looked at the two brothers at the edge, they found that Mortarion and Corax were silent: they stared at their other brothers as if they were staring at monsters. In the simple souls of farmers and coal miners, it seemed that some originally ignorant areas were forever immersed.

[Okay: Just a joke. 】

Morgan waved at them, signaling the two to follow their pace: After advancing about one-third of the way in the passage, everyone could clearly feel that the lights on both sides of the road had dimmed a lot, and shadows appeared on the faces of each Primarch. Perhaps because of the incidental effect, the originally joking voices gradually became low.

One minute, two minutes...

The road became longer and longer, and the lights became dimmer and dimmer. The smiles in everyone's pupils were fading at an alarming speed, until the faces of the demigods returned to silence, until there was only the sound of increasingly hurried footsteps in the corridor: the Imperial Guards still followed them quietly, silently like a row of gargoyles.

No one spoke.

No one laughed.

The temporarily fabricated beautiful atmosphere was eventually swallowed up by darkness in front of the future that everyone knew.

Until Morgan sighed and quietly put his fingers to his ears.

Until Magnus finally had some anxiety in his voice.

"What's going on: how could Brother Perturabo be so negligent?"

"It's none of his business."

Mortarion's cold reply was three people away.

"This should be the Emperor's intention: he wants you to reflect before everything starts."

"Reflect?"

Magnus was furious.

"What do I need to reflect on: how dare you guess the Emperor's intention at will?"

"Isn't this what you often do: arrogant Magnus?"

"Nonsense!"

"..."

In the blink of an eye, the friendly atmosphere that was still lingering a few minutes ago was torn to pieces in the process of a few quarrels: Morgan shook her head helplessly at Conrad, and then responded to Guilliman's eyes with a smile, indicating that she was too lazy to persuade him now.

Let them quarrel: just treat it as a warm-up for what will happen later.

Morgan said this with her eyes, and Conrad naturally shut up. Guilliman and Corax accepted it with some helplessness, but the Spider Queen ignored them: she patiently listened to the call from Chagatai Khan.

He brought the results from the Emperor.

Guilliman stared at her, carefully observing the changes in Morgan's expression, until a moment of coldness appeared in the pupils of the Spider Queen, which made the Macragge people's backs cold and hurriedly turned their faces away: at the same time, they sighed for Magnus's end in their hearts.

At this time, they also walked into the darkness completely, and even Magnus and Mortarion stopped quarreling: on the last section of the road as dark as the night, no one had the leisure to do anything, and the footsteps of the guards behind them were like a clock of death, making the primarchs just want to reach their destination quickly.

Fortunately: this last section of darkness is not long.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time, brothers."

In front of the bronze gate leading to the core of the volcano, a tall and dazzling figure stood there, smiling at them: Sanguinius was holding a torch in his hand, and his beautiful face, which no one in the world could match, was full of passionate emotions for every brother present.

Magnus felt that it gave him especially much: the torch in the angel's hand was the only light source in the darkness, and he instinctively walked forward, wanting to have a brotherly hug with Sanguinius.

The angel did as he wished: the only problem was that the torch was a bit troublesome.

"Let me do it."

Magnus stretched out his hand, intending to show off his psychic skills in front of everyone present, especially Mortarion: but I don't know whether it was the powerful inert material around him or because he was too focused on Sanguinius, when Magnus was about to use a simple spell that had long become muscle memory to take the torch from a distance, he suddenly forgot how to recite this spell.

How should that simple spell be read?

He seemed to have not said it for a long time.

A moment of hesitation caused the torch to brush against the Primarch's arm and fall to the ground: before the pain was over, the only light source in the darkness turned into scattered sparks. Magnus looked at his brother awkwardly, with a sense of frustration in his heart.

"Ah, you are too excited, brother."

But the angel still smiled and hugged him.

They greeted each other: the little accident just now was quickly forgotten.

Magnus laughed again: but he did not notice one thing.

When they hugged, Sanguinius neither closed his eyes nor looked at Magnus's face: in the darkness, the archangel glanced at Morgan obscurely.

That was a question and a confirmation.

He needed Morgan's answer: the answer from Chagatai Khan.

And the Spider Queen did not speak.

In the pure darkness, Morgan just stood there quietly, like a statue without any sadness or joy: until the last spark in the darkness happened to roll in front of her boots, lingering on her toes through the leather.

This was the last ray of light: it was as red as Magnus' skin.

The Spider Queen smiled.

Then, under the gaze of the angel, she slightly raised the tip of her boot.

The toes that were enough to easily crush the helmet of the Astartes warrior seemed slow, gentle, and unquestionable at this moment.

"Squeak-"

In the crowded laughter, no one cared about the sound of the last bit of light being stepped on.

The surroundings returned to darkness: Sanguinius' pupils also became cold.

"Come on, Magnus."

"I will lead you... to the table."