Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Just as when the sun moves above the horizon, so does the moon below the horizon, and when all the Astartes warriors talk about their respective genetic fathers, so do the blood of the Emperor. Happy to discuss and compare their respective offspring.

This seems to be some kind of tacit understanding and habit, some kind of common hobby, some kind of instinct engraved in their genes, just like the Astartes' fanatical attention to their original body, which illustrates their loyalty from the side, The masters of the legions cherish their respective children, which is also the best expression of the endless fatherly love in their hearts.

The vast majority of primarchs cannot escape this law. Only a very small number of extreme indifferent or even crazy exceptions will use pure oppression and violence to treat those blood descendants who chant his name and fight to the death.

At this point, Morgan undoubtedly belongs to the majority of the Primarchs.

Not to mention whether her so-called maternal love is vicious bile that is too well concealed, family affection that she refuses to admit, or possessiveness and pathological greed that have been twisted to the extreme, or an organic combination of the above three: But no matter what, the Lord of the Second Legion does care for every Dawnbreaker under her command as much as she cares for the luster in her pupils. This is a fact that no one can deny.

She could be proud of their achievements, worry about their prosperity, and feel the rain in her heart because of their successive decline: but then again, which primarch would not be proud, toiled, and shed tears for the sake of his heirs?

You know, even a ruthless arbiter with a heart of steel will still feel a moment of guilt, sadness and emotion in his heart when he sees the corpses of soldiers scattered all over the mountains and plains after victory. Endless injustice and anger followed.

Compared with this Olympian complex emotion, supporting the Lord of Avalon who raised her glass and intending to fight for the honor left in the mouth of the Primarch for the Dawnbreakers is just the simplest kind of competitiveness. .

Just as every Astartes feels that their genetic father is the strongest and the most suitable to become a Warmaster, every Primarch has the same or even higher expectations and positioning for his warriors. .

Jonson is like this, Leman Russ is like this, and Morgan is certainly no exception: after a brief hesitation between Lana and Bayar, the Spider Queen still picked the latter as the benchmark for praise in her mouth. .

As one of the earliest and most powerful veterans of Terra, the reputation of the Perfect Knight did not even need any more embellishments. It was enough to penetrate the growing bonfire between the original bodies and temporarily suppress the other two legions. Lord.

Jonson seemed to be still struggling, rattling off names like Corswayne, Arachos, Astelan, and those obscure veterans of the Inner Circle: each of them. He had accomplished feats that made the entire human empire awe-inspiring.

Obviously, there are so many veterans like Bayar in the First Legion that even after the bloodbath of the Randan War, Jonson could not even pick out the most representative figure: from From another perspective, this is really a happy trouble.

Leman Russ on the side showed another kind of embarrassment: the Wolf King of Fenris kept chanting the names of the wolf masters under his command, and recited a long list of Terran-style titles, but he could never come up with one. A person who is so powerful and well-known that he feels confident of winning.

Just like that, when Morgan raised her glass and entered the battle, she was greeted by the silence and frowns of the two Primarchs, and even the sound of crackling coals in the campfire. could drown out their constant whispers.

The Spider Queen curled her lips, feeling a little bored, and her gaze immediately shifted along the firelight: in the darkness on the other side, a certain midnight ghost didn't seem to care about this debate about heirs, he was talking about it with great interest He practiced how to use the big dagger in his palm to cut off the pieces of flesh as elegantly as possible, while retaining as much as possible the condensation that left only the blood.

Obviously, in the face of such a scene, the little Nostramo man had some kind of bloody association in his little mind: Fortunately, this kid never forgot to add coals to the fire.

[Don’t you want to participate in such a competition, my little parasite: through your future perspective, you should be able to see what your descendants will look like, right? 】

Morgan left her seat and stood in front of the fire, her tone teasing.

"Ah...of course I can see it."

Conrad grinned.

"A group of criminals, trash, cowards, and pretentious sociopaths mixed with the decadent juices of the aristocratic class. That's my legion. I don't even know where to start purging them."

[The current reputation of the Eighth Legion is not bad: they are certainly cruel, but no one will deny their value to the empire. 】

"That's because they haven't been really tested: in fact, the absolute majority of them are untouchables, and naming them would just make me lose face."

[Do crazy people care about face? 】

"Sometimes it does."

Midnight Ghost answered this question in a sullen voice. Even Morgan could not see the real face from the drooping hair, so she took a few steps forward and swept around the Nostramo. She squatted down and let the too close bonfire make her face turn red.

[Does this make you feel inferior? 】

Morgan directed her psychic powers and poured a glass of wine for Midnight Ghost. Conrad took it silently, and then slowly moved to his position. He also squatted and squirmed little by little. When he reached Morgan's side, his movements were like a big ball of seaweed that was too gloomy.

The Spider Queen even felt a little worried because of his words: If Conrad is really a primarch who has lost pride in his legion and heirs, then her education has been a complete failure.

In this worry, the Nostramo handed over a piece of roasted meat that was perfect both in terms of heat and knife skills. After seeing Morgan put it completely into his mouth, Midnight Ghost chewed the meat just now. The leftovers from the barbecue vaguely answered the words of his blood relatives.

"Not really."

【Why? 】

The Spider Queen asked as she picked up her second glass of wine: compared to the one she poured for Conrad, the glass of wine in Morgan's hand was significantly turbid. She took a small sip of it. The psychic light used to dispel toxins made her hair float unconsciously.

"because……"

Midnight Ghost grinned and smiled.

"Although my children are just a pile of rubbish that should be burned to ashes, it is precisely in these hot ashes that the true gold and diamonds will be revealed: the son of Nostramo who will be the greatest. Comparatively, those people they talk about are just a group of gargoyles under the acid rain, and sooner or later they will be eclipsed in real comparison."

"I have the best son, the best warrior. He is a Nostramo. He implements my philosophy, breathes my blood, and even commands my legion, so that I can be proud of him. He Greater even than I: though he alone can do this.”

Midnight Ghost's tone could even be called arrogant. When he raised his head and told about the son of Conrad from the future, his dark pupils even reflected the light of the fire. A certain hope that made Morgan marvel: the appearance of this scene shattered the Spider Queen's worries.

She could take back her words, and her tone returned to teasing and joking.

[The real master of the Eighth Legion? 】

Morgan touched Conrad's shoulder with his own and said a harmless joke, while the Nostramo puffed up his cheeks with barbecue and baguettes and thought about it seriously. , and then nodded seriously.

"Yes, he is."

【……】

[Have some ambition, Conrad, you are the Primarch of the Eighth Legion. 】

"But he is the leader of the Eighth Legion."

Conrad's words are nothing short of innocent.

【……】

Morgan frowned.

[Don't be like this, Conrad, what you say will only make me think that I have raised you to waste: no matter how depraved any primarch is, it is impossible to degenerate to the point where he cannot control his own legion, otherwise he will become the laughingstock of the galaxy. . 】

Midnight Ghost's eyes widened, and he listened to Morgan's words very carefully. Then, he chopped off another piece of meat, carefully peeled off the best part, stuffed it into Morgan's hand, and then grinned. The mouth, with a smile and a low tone, tells a secret.

"When did you have such an illusion, Morgan: Among our dozen brothers, there is no shortage of laughing stock. If losing part of the control of the Legion can be called a laughing stock, then our genes My father gave birth to at least a dozen Milky Way comedians."

Morgan blinked.

Well, a dozen is twelve...

Gee, those are really worrying numbers.

"If you don't believe it..."

Midnight Ghost moved forward again. On his pale face, the drunken red caused by continuous drinking had appeared. He touched Morgan's knee with his elbow, causing the Spider Queen who was also crouching to almost stop standing. stable.

The Nostramo's slender fingertips pointed somewhere beyond the flames.

"I can tell you right now."

"One of the brothers present will be knocked to the ground by his warriors in the future."

"Guess who it is?"

【……】

【Don’t guess. 】

"Guess, if you guess right, I'll tell you what the name of my best son will be in the future: it's not hard to guess, isn't it? I think you have already thought of the answer."

The eyes of the midnight ghost flashed with danger and sarcasm, which were so obvious under the firelight. Morgan looked at her brother quietly, then turned around and grabbed the hand with lightning speed. A brand new baguette next to it.

[Shut up, you. 】

The Conrad, which was hit from the mouth by an armor-piercing bullet, was completely damaged. He simply sat on the ground and filled his cheeks with bread while warming himself by the fire.

He laughed.

"His name is Sevatar, Morgan, you need to remember that name."

"He is a Nostramo."

——————

The identification of the Spider Queen and the Midnight Ghost was so quiet and quick that it did not attract the attention of the other two primarchs. When the Spider Queen chewed the meat fed by Konrad and stood up, she happened to hear Caliban and Finn. The Lysians started a dispute again.

Beside them, two huge wine barrels had been empty and disappeared into the darkness. This undoubtedly made the debate more intense and irreconcilable with the addition of alcohol. The Lords of the Legion Baring their animal teeth, they argued endlessly.

"Coswayne is the best warrior, and Arachos is on par with him. They are the blades of the Dark Angels: What about you, Riemann, what can you pick out from the wolves under your command?" Are you a qualified warrior?"

Zhuang Sen's arrogant attitude was met with a fearless counterattack. Although the Wolf King was stuck in his shell the moment the words left his mouth, he still roared with pride.

"Jolin! Yolin - Blood Howl! My best wolf master, my shield guard, I have fought side by side with him for eighty years, and I know the origin of every scar on his face! The soul of Fenris is here Come on, let me tell you, even if he burps after drinking! He can knock those mysterious tin cans under your hands off their feet!"

The roar was followed by a series of rude laughter, and another angry roar from Caliban. Leman Russ grabbed the wine barrel next to him while laughing wildly, and drank it all in the blink of an eye, which made Morgan's eyelids jump. The remaining liquid of the fine wine lay along his beard, corroding wantonly on the hard steel floor, making an uneasy sizzling sound.

On the other side, Lord Caliban's face turned dangerously red due to humiliation and depression. After all, he did not take action. Instead, he snatched the largest wine barrel from Leman Russ with a heavy face and greeted him. As Fenris continued to curse, he drank provocatively, and his speed was not inferior to that of his Wolf King brother.

After drinking down a bucket of something that could hardly be called wine at a faster speed, Zhuang Sen tried hard to maintain his serious face, wiped the corners of his mouth, and uttered a provocative word.

"Jolin? Ah, I remember him, the guy in Duran's orbit who almost messed everything up? If he was in my Dark Angel, he would have been court-martialed."

"Father! Are you going to hold on to this thing for a long time? It's been so many fucking years, no matter what, the two of us are fighting here again!"

"I don't even want to bully you, Riemann. Looking at how drunk you are now, defeating you is a juggling act with no difficulty or glory. Even the lowest subordinates can do it."

"Fart! Do you think you can defeat a man from Fenris casually?"

Jonson laughed, his face hidden in the shadows, making it unclear how much the alcohol had affected him.

"Of course! I am the best swordsman in the entire empire! The best hunter in the entire galaxy! The hunting skills you talk about are just a bunch of jokes: Come to Caliban! I will teach you what hunting is. !”

【……】

But the impact should still be there...

Leman Russ's roar was replaced by Jonson's low and terrifying laughter, and the Spider Queen silently held her forehead. The Dark Angels and Space Wolves' Primarchs faced each other like this. They stared at each other like a competition, He tore off the largest pieces of meat from Xiao Niu like a competition, and drank bucket after bucket of ominous wine with the momentum of his enemy, not wanting to show even the slightest hint of lagging behind.

This may be a competition, or it may be a different kind of drinking party in their eyes: who cares about the real result? After all, even Morgan and Conrad were attracted to the Lion King and the Wolf King, and they drank in silence. Wine, snatching away those pieces of meat that could still be called complete from the claws of the two beasts.

In the next hour, three howling cows were devoured with hatred. The wine barrels and ashes everywhere were mixed with the constant curses and competition between the lions and wolves, as well as the armor on their shoulders and The sound of animal skins constantly colliding, but fortunately, everything did not escalate into a more intense conflict. The biggest tragedy was when Leman Russ's half-drunk and half-sober eyes accidentally glanced at Kang who was snickering beside him. When Ladd, the latter slipped over here at some point and used the tit-for-tat and ugly behavior of his brothers as a condiment for his meal.

"..."

"..."

For a moment, the air felt a little quiet.

Then, the Fenrisian showed a smile that made Midnight Ghost's eyelids jump.

"What kind of cup do you use to drink from? You're so girly!"

With a strange cry, Leman Russ pounced on the midnight ghost who wanted to escape: the Nostramo's escape route was blocked by a ruthless sister of his, allowing him to fall into the trap of the Fenrisian werewolves. In his hand, Leman Russ slapped Conrad's wine glass away, and then grabbed the full wooden barrel at any time.

"I heard that Morgan is teaching you: Our little sister is indeed good, but there is one thing she can't teach you, and that is how to be a real man! But it doesn't matter! Your brother Leman Russ is here to teach you today Got it!"

"First of all! A real man! Just fucking drink!"

The incoherent Nostramo curses and screams disappeared into Leman Russ's maniacal laughter. The two Primarchs immediately started a fierce hand-to-hand fight, leaving a terrifying projection next to the fire. Morgan and Jonson laughed in unison, until Conrad gave Leman Russ an extremely vicious elbow kick, knocking Leman Russ to the ground.

"pretty!"

The Wolf King covered his face and did not forget to praise this in a vicious tone.

But before the Midnight Ghost could take a breath, a certain Caliban big cat quietly left its position and approached Conrad's back, alcohol burning with the flame of concentration in his pupils.

With new curses and attacks, the Dark Angel's Primarch successfully knocked his brother to the ground. Amidst Leman Russ's laughter and Conrad's curses that were so crazy that they were almost illogical, Jonson's The cold smile even contained a hint of happiness of revenge.

"I told you, Conrad, that trick of yours won't work anymore."

"Fuck..."

"Hold him down! Brother!"

Leman Russ's roar made the entire hall tremble. The Wolf King grabbed the barrel again, flipped off the lid with a slap, rushed in front of Conrad, turned the entire barrel of wine over, and hit He poured it down with a look on the face of Midnight Ghost.

"Come! Drink! This is what men should do!"

"Riemann was right: it's time for you to learn to do some decent things, Konrad."

"..."

The curses of the Midnight Ghost were drowned in the strong acidic wine pouring down like a waterfall. His entire face and hair were wet, making Morgan beside him want to laugh out loud, but also felt A kind of sincere helplessness and disgust.

But no matter what, when the two powerful legion masters worked together to pour four or five barrels of flowing manly energy into their little brother in one breath, it only took a short while. The room was filled with roars, curses and curses at each other. The unbridled laughter went from two to three, and they were intermittent, accompanied by the sounds of barbecue being torn and wine barrels being opened, just like the intermissions in a boxing match.

The Midnight Ghost roared and got into a fight with the laughing Leman Russ. Pieces of meat and wine were flying in their storm, which made Jonson return to his lair in disgust, groping for a new one. Bucket, continued to drink, the Spider Queen handed him new meat, he just took it silently, like an overly ruthless stone statue: but if you look closely, you will find that his hand holding the blade, There was already a slow sway that emerged from drunkenness.

【……】

Morgan sat on the edge, close to the fire, facing the increasingly chaotic demons in front of her with silence, while taking small sips of wine and barbecue, diligently defending the meaning of this banquet.

[So, as long as you drink it slowly, this wine is actually okay. 】

Patting the wine barrel next to her that had just been drained, the Spider Queen defended the last wine glass in her hand while looking at the stormy battlefield in front of her: the three original bodies had eliminated most of the barbecue, but they brought The wine is enough to keep this crazy party going.

【……】

Suddenly, Morgan pursed her lips to suppress a hiccup in her throat: she didn't know whether it was a full burp or a wine burp.

A new, harsh sound began to torment her eardrums. When she looked up, she saw Leman Russ and Conrad already half-lying on the ground without any image, cursing and chatting with each other. Although he didn't understand the topic, Zhuang Sen was still holding himself up and sitting upright in his seat. His body leaned forward from time to time, with a pair of sluggish pupils on his stern face.

Have they been drinking for two...or three hours?

Morgan blinked and found that she actually couldn't remember. She patted her head, got up from the ground, joined the group of primates who had stopped temporarily, and sat down where Leman Russ once was. superior.

To her left, Jonson was eating meat half-heartedly, and even chewed the blade of the sword carelessly. At her feet, Leman Russ fell to the ground with his arms and legs spread out, his face covered with beard. His face was covered with scars and alcohol stains. He grinned and seemed to be enjoying the air at this moment, while Midnight Ghost rested his head on the seat next to Morgan and muttered curse words.

The Spider Queen observed the scene in front of her very carefully. Although it was chaotic, brutal, sluggish, and filled with the pungent smell of alcohol and the smoke of burning fire, it was so precious in a sense: they were brothers. , leaning on each other by the fire, they didn’t have to think about anything except eating, drinking and bickering with each other. When they calmed down at the same time, the four pairs of pupils also looked at the blazing fire at the same time. It's like the planets are watching the sun silently.

They could see the white gas of coal dancing in the flames, and the residue left on the iron frame would drop grease from time to time, making the stable red flames shake like water splashes, and the fire light would strike from the deepest part and shoot into the flames. into their pupils and hearts.

In this silent moment, with neither drinking nor eating, nor fighting or competing with each other, they looked at the fire, looked at each other, and chatted: no one knew what the first topic was or who it was. Caused by this, no one knows how long they chatted and how many topics they talked about. They simply responded to every word spoken by their brothers, from heirs to the world, from home to expeditions, and from their father. To the other brothers…

All irrelevant words were thrown out and quickly forgotten. Those differences that once caused fights became irrelevant amidst the numbness of alcohol and laziness. They were either sitting or lying, Some people will speak at length, and some people will just respond dullly. Conrad uses his monotonous murmur to confirm the words spoken by Jonson, while Morgan responds to Fenris' vulgar ancient legends with her drunken smile.

Sometimes they were silent, sometimes talking, and no one could be sure what they were doing, because most of the time, they just looked at the bonfire silently, looked at the darkness around them, looked at each of their brothers, and put all their Everything is collected into his pupils, greedily eager to make the moment in front of him last forever.

Morgan is like this, Leman Russ is like this, Conrad is like this, even Jonson is like this: when the Caliban looks at the fire, looks at his brothers, there will be a hint of instinct on his face His smile was then replaced by endless seriousness. He stared at them so seriously, staring at everything in front of him, and spared no effort to harvest even the slightest bit of air, as if he was dealing with the greatest battle. .

When he smiled again, Jonson realized belatedly that the wine barrel in his hand was empty. After a whisper of curses that may not have existed, the Caliban groped in the darkness and dragged out two A new one, he kept one and threw it to the Wolf King.

"Thanks."

The Fenrisian grinned. He reluctantly got up from the ground, opened the lid, then looked at Conrad and then at Morgan.

"How much did you drink?"

【Not drunk. 】

Morgan smiled, and Leman Russ smiled back. He drank the wine in the barrel, sat cross-legged on the ground, and paid tribute to his Caliban brothers.

"Seriously, Jonson: I've always thought you were an asshole."

"It's the same now..."

A half-drunk murmur came from the Nostramo next to Morgan.

"I never expect your judgment, Riemann."

Jonson narrowed his eyes. He looked at the Fenrisians, but he did not arouse much anger because of this provocation: this may have made Leman Russ become bolder. He raised his barrel high and Like Hercules lifting up the Atlas Mountains that support the sky.

"But to be honest, Leon: I think now that you actually have some merits. At least you are more worthy of appreciation than many brothers. It is also a pleasure to fight with you... ...For the sake of all my father, if our genetic father really wants to become a warmaster, I would like to give you a vote. You are more suitable than Horus."

"..."

【……】

Morgan could have sworn that at that moment, she saw an extremely shining light in Jonson's pupils. That light even temporarily defeated the surrender to alcohol, causing the original body of the Dark Angel Legion to stand up straight subconsciously. Change your sitting posture.

"What...what did you say, brother?"

"I said……"

The Wolf King let out a long belch.

"If Quanfu... really rushes us all to go over and choose that Laushizi war commander, I will vote for him... For no other reason than to see Horus' face when the time comes."

"Hahaha……"

The Fenrisian laughed, and he slumped on the ground. He could not sit or lie down, muttering bits and pieces of words in his mouth. Only the serious Caliban was left.

Jonson looked at Morgan.

【……】

[Don’t look at me like that, Zhuangson, you know: the moment the word Warmaster appears in my mind, it becomes one with you. No matter what, I will always be your first vote. 】

"..."

The corners of the First Legion's mouth trembled, not sure if it was the influence of the hangover, but before he could see the gentle smile on Morgan's face, another hoarse voice sounded from beside the Spider Queen, and in the darkness, it Like a tattered violin, it is frightening.

"Warmaster? Warmaster!"

Conrad rolled from his leaning position, raised a hand, staggered, and dropped it again.

"Jonson!"

he growled.

"If you choose the battle commander... I... I will vote for you... You can recruit more people when the time comes. I also want to see Horus' face then... Hahahahaha..."

The Nostramo's voice also disappeared in the hoarse laughter. He reluctantly stood up and began to compete with Leman Russ for the barrel of wine in the latter's arms.

"..."

Caliban raised his eyelids and stared at them. The corners of his mouth raised unconsciously, but were suppressed with great effort. In this constant battle between instinct and dignity, his face became quite ugly. funny.

Until Leman Russ slapped Conrad over, who was grabbing his drink, and looked at his brother drunkenly.

"By the way...I haven't asked you yet, what are you thinking about that Warmaster all day long, Zhuang Sen?"

"Besides Horus and Ferus, there are actually people who are still thinking about that bad position."

The midnight ghost lying on the ground laughed like a night owl.

Zhuang Sen straightened his mind.

"Because I am the most suitable person for it, my brother Riemann."

"Warmaster?"

"certainly."

"Why? Why do you fit into that bad position? You got a mark on your ass?"

Conrad still didn't speak, but Leman Russ's words obviously made him laugh so hard that he almost lost his breath.

"..."

The barrel creaked as it was held.

"Because I am the best hunter! I am the best general in the entire empire! I am more suitable for the position of commanding war than Horus! I am absolutely loyal! I will not let this position tarnish the dignity of the Emperor in the slightest possibility!”

"I am his sword! His best hunter and killer: simple as that!"

"Do you understand! Leman Russ!"

"..."

The Wolf King was stunned for a second. Zhuangsen's sudden roar made the air around him quiet. Then, the Lord of Fenris raised his head wrapped in golden beard and looked directly at the stars above his head.

Laughed loudly.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha……"

"You...you are right...but there is one thing that is wrong."

Just when Jonson's face turned red because of Leman Russ's laughter, and he was even fumbling with the sword beside him, the Fenrisian stopped his laughter, gave a thumbs up, and then slowly twisted To himself.

"I!"

"Leman Russ!"

"I'm the greatest fucking hunter in the galaxy!"

"fart!"

Before Zhuang Sen could say anything, there was a roar from behind the Wolf King, and Midnight Ghost raised an arm high, his pupils soaked with drunkenness, and he bared his fangs at the two brothers unscrupulously. .

"I am the best hunter! I hunt criminals all over the galaxy! Garbage! Pollution and idealists! What qualifications do you primitive people who only wear beast heads on your heads have to compete with my hunting? Comparable!"

"You left behind the dead land, but I left behind...justice!!!"

"Exactly the same size as your mother!"

Leman Russ raised his wine barrel mercilessly and covered Conrad's wet head. The Midnight Ghost's heroic ambitions were quickly drowned in the new waterfall of wine.

"..."

"..."

【……】

Amidst the grunting sounds, the three original bodies fell into silence.

Then they laughed again.

[Looks like we messed up? 】

"There's no time we didn't make a fucking mess!"

…

Then laugh.

"Jonson, give me some of your wine."

"No."

"Please, I support your election as war master! You can't even bear to order a drink!"

"A promise that is not fulfilled is just a blank piece of paper!"

"Fuck you!"

The roar of the Wolf King of Fenris triggered a new war. The two Primarchs fought in a ball in the next second. They pulled each other's hair and shoulders and quickly rolled into the darkness, leaving only the empty wine. The bucket gurgled to Morgan's feet.

The Spider Queen stepped on her. She weighed the empty barrel and showed a mocking smile. At her feet, the snoring of the midnight ghost came from the wine barrel poured on his head. , shocking the world.

[...Three drunkards. 】

The Queen of Avalon, the only one who remained awake, mocked each of her brothers unscrupulously. She raised the wine glass high, it was the last glass of wine, and she offered it to the stars above her head: they were Although she was imprisoned outside the dome, she still poured dim light onto the Spider Queen.

Morgan stretched out her hand and carefully captured these invisible lights. She laughed and splashed the drink on her neck.

She wasn't drunk: she was sure of it.

because……

[These three idiots. 】

…

…

[Obviously I am the greatest Primarch! 】

Because it’s an interlude, the character’s personality has little connection with the main text, so it’s normal to be a little depressed. Just watch it for fun (face covering)