Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"Tell me, what happened on Sisyphus?"

"...I don't know, but it seems that our genetic father is...a little angry."

"Some? The anger in him can ignite the entire sector! When Sir Luther disobeyed, he had never been so angry."

"That's true...but Ms. Morgan seems to be in a good mood. Do you think it's because our genetic father didn't get vaccinated..."

"Stop talking! Use your brain, is that possible?"

"I'm sorry I can't think of the second answer. I think the only possibility is that our genetic father is angry about something about Ms. Morgan. This is the only logical reasoning that can work properly."

"He's angry about Ms. Morgan?"

"right."

"Then he arranged Ms. Morgan's room next door to his own, one person below, and above ten thousand people?"

"Well……"

"Then should I make him angry too?"

"... If you are older, you can give it a try... I will give you full spiritual support... and all the funeral expenses."

——————

The whispers of the Dark Angels echoed in the shadows of the Indomitable Truth. These most proud and powerful warriors were huddled in the corners, because all the corridors and halls were rolling and burning in the Primarch's wrath.

Like a hungry monster, like a furious thunder, when the black hurricane named the Primarch of the First Legion jumped from the landing craft that recovered the extinct machine, and began to rampage, the entire Glory Queen class was silently following him. Trembling under the majesty.

Zhuang Sen didn't speak or roar. He just widened his eyes and let the green pupils shoot silent arrows, mercilessly piercing every heir in his path, and they disappeared in an instant.

By the Emperor, the Gene Father looks far more intimidating now than when he roared.

Countless soldiers of the First Legion felt this way in their hearts. They hid in the shadow of the battleship. It was not until the figure of the Legion Lord flew past like a hurricane that they squeezed out the tiniest voice from their throats to discuss.

But then, they heard another sound, which was the sound of high-heeled riding boots stepping on the ground slowly.

Morgan was following the Lion King, maintaining an extremely strange distance: she seemed to be right behind the furious lion, but also seemed to be thousands of miles away. In the eyes of all the First Legion soldiers, she seemed to It became a shadow of nothingness, a queen stepping out of a painting, a pale spider queen patrolling her territory in the corridors of the Legion.

When they blinked and focused their attention, they realized that she was real and had already drifted away.

The silver-haired Spider Queen walked briskly, her figure walking through the lights, as if covered with a cloak of moonlight. She strolled in the silent eyes of countless dark angels, towards those who were the most powerful. The confused eyes were returned with a cold smile, as if he was not a guest, but half the owner of this battleship.

All the Dark Angels who had just escaped from the wrath of the Gene Father looked at this scene suddenly. When they realized this arrogant temperament, they didn't even feel that there was anything wrong until Morgan's figure disappeared around the corner. At that moment, Zhuang Sen's heirs looked at each other, and they realized how terrible that minute was...

absurd.

But the confusion of the Astartes warriors did not affect the Primarch's decision. Jonson stood in front of his door until Coswayne's footsteps hurriedly sounded.

The Primarch of the First Legion pointed to the left front of his door, which was opposite Coswayne's room.

[She will live here from now on. 】

The Lion King's confidant couldn't help but glance at the room that had always been vacant, then turned his head and glanced at Morgan who kept a slight smile before nodding in agreement.

If he remembered correctly, this vacant room used to belong to Mr. Luther...

Before the confusion could flow through his heart, he heard Zhuang Sen's gnashing of teeth.

The voice was directed at Morgan.

【Just stay in there for me! 】

【Mark my words! Don't go anywhere! 】

The Primarch of the First Legion stood up straight. He did not turn his head or look out. His face was hidden in the shadows, as if he was deliberately avoiding the mortal behind him.

At that moment, Coswayne discovered that he had this illusion.

Then he heard Morgan smile.

[Why are you so nervous, Lord Zhuang Sen? 】

【When have I ever disobeyed your orders? 】

The provocative atmosphere in this answer made Coswayen feel a little suffocated. He began to worry about the wrath of the genetic father and the safety of the silver-haired lady, and then he realized that his worries were completely unnecessary.

His genetic father was obviously still angry, but he just let out a heavy roar, opened the door and walked into his room.

When Coswayen turned his head, he found that Morgan had returned to his original room at the end of the corridor, using his psychic power to pull all his personal belongings and carry out this simple move.

The Lion King's confidants watched this scene quietly until Morgan closed the door to his new room. Coswayen stood in the corridor where he was the only one, took a deep breath, and then rubbed his face, The friction and slight pain told him that what just happened was not an illusion.

…

He was a little curious.

What happened to Sisyphus?

——————

When Ahriman of the Fifteenth Legion visited the Indomitable Truth again, Morgan had been shut up in her new room for more than ten days. She completely obeyed the orders from Jonson, including her daily meals. They are all delivered to the door regularly by servants on the battleship.

The silver-haired lady obviously likes this kind of idle home life. From time to time, there will be a surge of psychic energy in her room, causing the Dark Angel senior executives next door to subconsciously tighten the anti-psychic devices in their hands.

And in those moments when she was not delving into psychic powers, she would focus on her personal hobbies and decorating her temporary little world. When Ahriman finally passed the security checks of the First Legion, she pushed with an irritable heart. When he opened the door to Morgan's room, a fresh scent that only belonged to the stamens and branches of the flowers made his heart feel comfortable in an instant.

He also smelled another scent, one he loved and was familiar with.

As the door opened, a simple scenery appeared in front of Ahriman: the color scheme of the room was a combination of white, rice dumplings and light gray. The light blue steel floor was carefully covered by a layer of brown mats. On top of it are strewn with off-white beds, striped cabinets and spacious wooden desks. A huge dark red bookshelf occupies almost an entire wall, embellished with several green plants, with books placed on it. A number of books sufficient to satisfy Ahriman.

On the other side of the room, next to the desk is a light blue-gray fabric sofa. A similarly light-colored lounge chair is randomly placed in front of it, while two orange paintings hang quietly on the wall. It's sunflowers and oranges.

When Ahriman's eyes moved up and saw the soft light emitted by the square, neither big nor small chandelier, he could no longer be satisfied.

The heir of Magnus stepped on his iron boots uneasily, as if he was afraid of ruining the scenery in front of him, until the owner of the room smiled and issued an invitation.

Morgan was leaning on the sofa, holding a thick volume of books in one hand and placing her other arm on the wooden desk next to the sofa. She was wearing a cream-white sweater, light blue slender pants, and toes on the In the snow-white socks, her legs are crossed, letting a brown slipper rise and fall in mid-air with the rhythm of its owner.

Seeing Ahriman, she laughed, put down the book in her hand, and stood up. Her silver hair was already a little too long, so she simply combed it into a loose side ponytail, hanging all the way to her waist.

Amid the joy and laughter of being reunited after a long separation, Ahriman carefully sat on the sofa. He was extremely glad that he was not wearing armor this time, and the furniture Morgan selected was strong enough.

Morgan lit a desk lamp, then stretched out his hand to pull up the curtains. A huge floor-to-ceiling window suddenly appeared in front of Ahriman. The faint light in the void spilled into the room, and the stars flickered from time to time. The breath becomes comfortable.

"I'm here to say goodbye."

After a few words of greeting, Ahriman's voice suddenly became hoarse.

"Now that the war with Randan has eased, Lord Magnus summoned us to return to Prospero. The Thousand Sons Legion is now being reorganized. I need to go back and organize my own society and company."

"Not long ago, the Legion, under the leadership of Lord Magnus, intervened in the war in Leobia, and successfully prevented the group of barbarian slave owners of the 19th Legion from destroying the priceless treasure trove of knowledge there. The original body was not interested in this. Satisfied with the operation, he felt it was time to return the Legion to the Great Crusade."

【you alone? 】

"Yes……"

Qianzi's voice was a little gloomy.

"The original team of one hundred soldiers, except you and me, have all been killed..."

"I don't even know how I should explain this matter to my genetic father. Thanks to the Primarch of the First Legion, you can't follow me back to Prospero. The Primarch has already acquiesced to you. Position in the First Corps.”

He blinked, then glanced around.

"But you don't have to worry. If you encounter any trouble in the First Legion, you can inform me. Both I and Lord Magnus regard you as a true member of the Fifteenth Legion. You don't have to worry. Any provocation or threat, Thousand Sons will be with you."

Morgan smiled, a sincere smile that Ahriman took as a silent thank you.

But then she asked a question.

[Ran Dan...really retreated? 】

"From a practical point of view, this is indeed the case."

[But I remember that the Eleventh Primarch and his legion have not communicated with the Empire for a long time, and even the Dark Angels are talking about it. 】

Ahriman laughed.

"The Eleventh Legion? There is no need to worry. They are the greatest and most powerful warriors. Although they are indeed cruel in temperament, their fighting ability is beyond doubt. It is said that the purest Primarch saw the Emperor for the first time. He truly fell at his feet at that moment. At that time, he had already rushed out of his home star and encountered the Emperor's fleet in another galaxy, but he still gave everything he had to the Emperor at the first opportunity."

[Including his home planet? 】

"...I don't know about this, but it is said that his home planet, like Baal, is absolutely autonomous and mysterious. The emperor appreciated his ability and attitude, so he gave this gift. But for that world, They missed the glory of the Emperor himself."

They chatted for a while, and Ahriman naturally spoke freely about some anecdotes about the Eleventh Legion and other legions. This happy time lasted for about one Terran standard hour.

Then, Morgan seemed to remember something.

She stood up and walked to the side of her bed, where a curtain hung.

[Do you remember everything you said, Ahriman? 】

"Um?"

Ahriman was stunned for a moment, and then he thought about it.

"should be."

Morgan grabbed the curtain and winked at him.

[That’s good, because I can do it too. 】

Randomly, she pulled gently, and Ahriman's pupils shrank involuntarily.

Several round wooden barrels were piled there, emitting a mellow smell of wine mixed with sawdust.

With a tap of Morgan's fingers, two cups flew into her hands. She took the two cups and pulled a wooden barrel to the front of Ahriman.

[I remember you once complained that there was no wine to drink on the front lines. 】

"Yes... that was five or six years ago... Please keep it in mind..."

While holding the wine glass, Ahriman felt that his throat was dry.

He took a sip of the purple-red wine, which indeed tasted like real wine. It was a bit sour compared to Prospero's wines, but it didn't hurt.

Ahriman drank sip after sip, feeling a different kind of warmth flowing in his heart.

"I didn't expect that it was just a complaint. I didn't expect that you would actually remember it and take such trouble."

Morgan laughed.

[Look what you say, Ahriman. 】

[We are close friends, aren't we? 】

[The words of a close friend are like the stars in the sky. Even if there is only one sentence, you should keep it in your heart. 】

[Right, my dear friend. 】

"..."

What else could Ahriman say?

His fingers trembled a little, causing the wine in the glass to ripple. Finally, he raised the glass and took another careful sip.

——————

but……

After smacking his lips and feeling the real sour taste, Ahriman still couldn't contain his doubts.

"My friend Morgan..."

【Um? 】

"How...did you make this batch?"

【oh……】

Morgan's smile made Ahriman shudder, and she answered in a voice that deserved it.

【Step on it with your feet. 】

"...Cough! Cough cough cough! Cough..."

Ahriman coughed violently several times and tried hard to resist the urge to spit out the wine. He pursed his lips, struggled for a while, and swallowed the wine in his mouth.

"You...are joking, right!"

Morgan's pale face wore a smile.

【ah……】

[Of course, it’s a joke...]

She smiled, an unnerving smile.

——————

Jonson took a deep breath.

He stood at the deepest part of the room, looked at the special communication device in front of him, and turned it on.

After a while, a golden blurry figure vaguely appeared in front of the Primarch.

[Jonson...my knight...]

【Father. 】

The Primarch of the First Legion whispered a soft greeting.

[I have some questions to ask you. 】

【Related to...】

Before Zhuang Sen finished speaking, a blocking voice appeared on the other end of the communication device. The emperor's words came intermittently from countless stars away, accumulating in Zhuang Sen's ears bit by bit.

[I know...what you want to ask...my knight...]

[Come to Moro...you are alone, take your guards...don't bring anyone else...]

【I will give you...an answer. 】