Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Eventually, Angron fell, five minutes before Nuceria was ordered to be exterminated.

The unimaginable exhaustion and pain eventually overwhelmed the Primarch, and the battle brother lying in his arms breathed his last breath silently, which completely broke the heart of the Son of the Mountain. .

For a long time, the most powerful pillar that supported his constant confrontation with the Butcher's Nail, and supported him to advance tenaciously under the pressure of high-level riders, gladiatorial arenas, and bloodlust, was also accompanied by Yochuka's growing strength. The void figure slowly drifted away in the wind.

At the moment when he realized that his little brother's fingers had become cold, numbness and confusion swept over the original body's mind. Even the roar of the Butcher's Nail seemed insignificant at this moment, because the Nucerian pupils The soul in it is already dead.

He could no longer feel pain, nor could he feel sadness. His arms that could crush a chariot were hugged together hard, but he could no longer hold his brother's hand tightly. His face was as majestic as a god. They were twisted together, but no more hot tears could be shed.

The original body leaned forward, as if he wanted to find his battle brother again in the crazy wind and sand, but in the end, the great warrior missed it and fell to the ground like a heavy camel beast. : He arched his body, his broad back trembling, and roared to the sky, but he could only make a low hiss.

Sorrow was like a sharp sword, piercing the greatest gladiator. Angron forgot to cry, forgot to roar, and forgot to raise his head to take a look at the city that was being destroyed in the fire: This wonderful scene has appeared countless times in the mountains. His son's most extravagant dream, but when the dream came true, he no longer had the interest to even glance at it.

Yes, the city was finally destroyed. Yes, those high-level knights who were like maggots finally turned into ashes together with their golden towers. Yes, those who had never imagined when they raised their troops The great vision has finally been realized today.

Everything is so wonderful, everything is unbelievably great.

But, what does all this have to do with him, Angron?

Gone were his brothers, his siblings, every blood relative with whom he had sworn to live and die: the one for whom the Son of the Mountain had loved, for whom he had sworn to fight for all his life. Everything, along with his battle brothers, gradually drifted away.

Without them, what is Angron: he is a warrior, but he has lost his battle brothers; he is a gladiator, but he has no fighting venue; he is a Nucerian, but now, Even the world of Nukeria is about to return to deathly silence.

Everything he loved, everything he cherished, everything he swore to protect was gone.

Even the things he hated, the things he blamed, the things he swore to avenge, were gone.

"nothing left……"

The Primarch screamed toward the empty sands of Nuceria.

The Son of the Mountain spent the first half of his life in pain and sorrow, which is sad: but what is even more sad is that now, even the pain and sorrow are leaving him. Except for the Butcher's Nail, Angron found that he actually Nothing left.

What should he do now?

What can he do?

There is nothing worth protecting anymore, nothing that will become the object of his revenge, or even nothing that he can continue to destroy: then, he cannot protect anything, nor can he take revenge or destroy anything. Angron, what significance does it have to this world?

At this point in his life, all he has learned is to protect and fight, to take revenge and to destroy.

This is all the world has taught him.

And now...

Angron looked at his hands: he only felt huge weakness.

He didn't even have the strength to raise his hands, and he even forgot the instinct of breathing. He lay on his side on the ground, becoming a corpse with his own soul. The disturbance of the Butcher's Nails could not make his limbs move at all, and Even the disturbances from the outside world cannot slip into his brain.

There is only emptiness.

Only extreme emptiness.

The primarch was stunned. He didn't know what else he could do: continue to lie here and go to destruction with the world? Or will he heed the roar of the Butcher's Nail and charge in fury at any creature that bleeds blood, until the strongest among them can slay him?

Or... or...

Or what...

Angron asked himself in his mind, but couldn't give himself an answer.

So, he could only choose to lie there numbly, not thinking about anything, and let the manic red sand storm sweep this small hill over and over again, and let the sharp stones slap on his back and There was a stabbing pain on his neck like a knife: Those hits on his neck seemed to be more painful?

But even in such pain, the original body felt that his body was numb, his will was slowing down, and he felt a long-lost sleepiness, or a sense of fainting? Slowly coming to his mind.

After the extreme joy, struggle, madness and sorrow, what Angron's soul could leave his body seemed to be the only fatigue that even the Primarch could not bear.

He had fought sleeplessly for hundreds of days and nights in the snowy mountains. He had fought against the will of God under the madness of the Butcher's Nails. He had forcibly torn the path forward in the greatest sandstorm of Nuceria. : Now, when he finally stopped, the cost of these miracles finally hit him.

In the emptiness of the Primarch.

Angron was tired.

He was finally tired.

He thought: Go to sleep.

Or: escape?

"..."

That’s all, everything is fine.

To escape, just escape.

He doesn't care anymore.

Nothing matters anymore.

The thought of self-destruction flashed through the mind of the original body like a meteor, slowly pulling down Angron's heavy eyelids. He fell on the place where his battle brothers died, and fell on the gladiator that had imprisoned him throughout his childhood. The city fell apart at that moment.

then.

The primarch fell.

Went to sleep.

And the first half of his life was over.

——————

"Everything is not beautiful."

"Everything is not worth remembering."

Conrad raised the corner of his mouth and stepped forward. He looked at his fallen brother and commented on his unfortunate first half of his life in two short sentences: In all honesty, Midnight Ghost may be the most promising person. He is qualified to comment on Angron's misfortune.

Behind him, the Prince of Crows, out of the instinctive awe of the Astartes warriors for any Primarch, was carefully looking at Angron's majestic body: the suitcase in his hand that never left his body had already It opened, and the metal buckles and zippers rattled in the final gust of wind.

"Is he asleep, father?"

"Asleep, fainting, or falling into suspended animation due to biological instinct."

"None of that matters."

Coming to his brother, Midnight Ghost first squatted down, took off the iron crown from the forehead of Angron, who was no longer responding, and then put it on his head. Then he couldn't wait to stretch his brows and smile. He let out a sigh similar to emotion.

"Sure enough."

"It's better to keep your head quiet."

Conrad looked very happy. He hummed the tuneless Nostramo ballad, then took one of Angron's arms and put it on his shoulder. The battle brother, who had grown a whole circle, was carried on his shoulders.

Sevatar, who was standing not far away, felt in disbelief at this astonishing contrast: He was very sure that although his genetic father was a bit thin, he could be considered a standard [Primarch figure], comparable to Compared to the majestic muscles on Angron's body, Midnight Ghost can even be called a pitiful bean sprout.

"You seemed to be thinking about something very rude just now, Cy?"

"……cough."

The Prince of Crows coughed, blinked, and changed the subject by expressing his inner doubts.

"But, Father."

"What on earth could happen that could knock down a original body like this?"

"That's too much."

Conrad carried his brother and looked up at the sky, waiting for the arrival of the Thunderhawk that came to pick them up: before that, he didn't mind answering Zisi's confusion.

"Huge fatigue, or huge emotional fluctuations, or even the psychic impact from powerful psykers, and those ferocious gunfire that can destroy a Titan: whether it is physically or mentally, the Primarch is... They are not invincible, but their spirits are generally weaker than their bodies."

"……them?"

"Yes, them: your great genetic father Conrad is invincible~"

"..."

"The look on your face is rude, Cy."

"...Ahem, sorry, sorry..."

The Crow Princes quickly lowered their heads and stood quietly beside the Midnight Ghost until they heard the roar of the Thunderhawk gunship's engine as it slowly circled overhead, looking for a landing place: In this huge roar, Sevi In the end, Ta couldn't hold back the last doubt in his heart.

"So, father?"

"What was it that knocked down Angron?"

"Is it because of exhaustion? Because of sadness? Or is it because of something else: for example, the butcher's nail in his mind, which I heard is a very terrible instrument of torture."

"Ah, you said you made Angron fall."

"Of course it is..."

——————

"What you have in your box is this invincible Nukaili drug."

——————

【……? 】

"I'm serious, Morgan, it works so well!"

Conrad leaned on the chair, raised a finger, and absentmindedly played with the used syringe: less than ten minutes ago, he used this syringe of Nuceria's special anesthetic to put He poured his brother Angron, and the effect was so fast that even Midnight Ghost himself couldn't help but marvel.

[So, you promised me before that there was a way for Angron to return to the battleship with his beard and tail intact after the death of his last battle brother: Is this what you meant? 】

"Just tell me whether he was dragged to the battleship with all his beard and tail."

Conrad raised his head proudly: Of course he would be proud, because when he carried the intact Angron from the Thunder Eagle onto the deck of the [Emperor Phantom], even the humans who greeted them There was a hint of surprise in the master's face that was neither sad nor happy.

"But, seriously, Morgan: Did those gold-touching captains you raised find the production formula for this strange anesthetic on Nuceria? I think this thing is much more precious than those so-called STCs. ”

【That will disappoint you. 】

The primarch smiled.

[My descendants only found the silver vines, anti-gravity boots, anti-gravity gauntlets, sonic disruptors, and material conversion beams in the ruins of Nuceria, as well as the production formulas for more than ten other strange weapons: Nukai The Riya people did not understand the technology involved. They regarded these drawings as ordinary treasures and placed them in their treasure troves, which were particularly easy to find. 】

[But the anesthetic: I really haven’t found the production formula for this thing, but they did bring a few boxes back: the pharmacists under me are studying its constituent elements, but I’m not optimistic about them. 】

"It's quite rewarding."

Midnight Ghost leaned back.

"But: Forget about my Night Lords Army. When those war dogs saw your descendants plundering technological artifacts so wantonly, they didn't even think about taking a share of the pie?"

[Their thoughts are all tied to their genetic father. 】

The Spider Queen winked playfully, with a smirk on her lips.

[But it's a pity: these little guys of the Twelfth Legion still have to stay on their battleships and continue scratching their hearts for a while: Angron is now on the Emperor's Dream, waiting for our next step. Discussing. 】

"What are you going to do with him?"

[It depends on the emperor’s intention. 】

"Then what does the Emperor think?"

[I don’t know, the Emperor is busy with other things now: The war on Nuceria had just ended, and he couldn’t wait to summon my image director to his Emperor’s Dream: To be honest, I used to I have never seen him so serious about paying off debts. 】

"I haven't seen it either."

Conrad grinned.

"So, since our genetic father is still so careless about Angron, it seems that the only one our poor brother can count on is you: and maybe me too?"

[No matter who he counts on, he has to stay on the Emperor's ship for a while first. 】

Morgan yawned: she also felt tremendous fatigue.

Although the war that took place in Nuceria only lasted an hour, the command of any war is inherently a very energy-consuming thing, let alone launching a war on the territory of the Blood God. God's war.

For Morgan, the past hour was no less than the fierce battle she had experienced in the Tuckers galaxy: there, she had faced the elite fleet built by the Randan Empire with all its national strength, and the one that was powerful enough to compete with humans. Emperor Randan who fought against the Lord.

But this time, that time.

After the Battle of Tarkos, all the Lord of Avalon could do was huddle aboard the Unyielding Truth, swallowing his soul timidly under the gaze of the Emperor, but the war on Nuceria ended Afterwards, Morgan could lie leisurely in her lounge, thinking about how she could relieve her fatigue: maybe it would be a good idea to let Virgo give her a massage.

The original body touched her chin and thought lazily. She keenly captured the short gap left after the war: when Morgan's eyes passed over Conrad, she even had the time to raise the corners of her mouth. , teasing her Nostramo blood relatives.

【Conrad～】

"……Um?"

【Do you want to pinch my feet? 】

"..."

"roll."