Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"Hail, Lord of Mankind."

"In obedience to your command, I bring you Magnus the Red, the Primarch of the Thousand Sons and the Lord of Prospero. He and his descendants are here now: ready to listen to your call and accountability."

When the bronze gate guarding the heart of the mountain was slowly closed by the guards who followed them all the way, leaving the darkness and silence of a moment ago nowhere to hide, Magnus felt as if he had come to another world, and became at a loss like a newborn baby.

But time did not favor him. Magnus had no time to breathe, no time to observe, and no time to have even the slightest impression of the magnificent new world behind the gate: standing in front of everyone, Sanguinius's tall and elegant announcement had already echoed on the curved surface of the Baroque dome.

Just by catching the time when the echo was frustrated on the basalt wall, the Scarlet King could roughly guess what kind of magnificent palace he was standing in the center of: looking up, the primarch's prediction was accurate again, filling Magnus with the last bit of confidence.

What he saw was a magnificent hall that would be the best in the palace of Holy Terra: his Perturabo brothers may have invested most of their feelings and love in this building that is destined to be recorded in history, making Nikaia and their names immortal together.

Perhaps 30,000 Iron Warriors, under the command of a voice, put down their weapons at the same time and held the excavation tools tightly, so that such a new world could be opened up inside the largest crater in all of Nikaia.

The olive-shaped ceiling is full of colorful decorations and paintings, showing off the immortality and power of the human empire. The giant crystal chandelier is like a moon plucked from the sky, casting a shadow larger than a Titan. Thousands of tiny branches allow witnesses to feel the emptiness and silence of the midnight stars even on a hot volcanic world, and the light at the core makes the whole palace present a charming light golden color.

The towering mountain walls and Roman columns spread like a spider web. Behind them is the bone-chilling cold wind that has been rampant on Nicaea for a long time, but has been isolated by the exquisite craftsmanship of the Mechanicus. At the foot of the exquisite reliefs showing off the martial arts of the empire is the top floor of the entire hall. Next is like a ladder extending to the ground layer by layer. Each layer forms the most perfect circle, carrying thousands of swaying names.

Each name is a king, with countless heartbreaking titles, and can turn the tide in their departments and kingdoms. They are like spectators and servants, but there is no doubt that no matter what conclusion will be drawn on Nikaea today, it will be spread to all corners of the empire by these people.

Magnus quietly watched the rows of heads coming from far to near, and suddenly realized something: yes, this is the largest ancient Greek amphitheater in the galaxy, of course, it can also be understood as an ancient Roman arena that requires bloodshed to death.

It depends on its next role.

The Primarch's eyes began to be down-to-earth: he found that the floor of the entire hall was made of a piece of natural black marble, without even a trace of cracks, and the only decoration on it was a golden, lifelike imperial double-headed eagle.

At the heart of the double-headed eagle, there were two identical podiums facing each other, which were built completely according to the Primarch's specifications: on the empty marble floor, these two plain podiums were so dazzling.

Just like two piles of weapons thrown on the sand before a gladiator match: the fighters on both sides would arm themselves with rusty spears and armor like rummaging through garbage, and then use their lives and souls to please everyone in the bloodthirsty cheers of the audience.

Magnus sighed in his heart: thinking that in a dozen minutes, he would stand on one of the podiums and face the ignorance from the entire galaxy head-on, the Scarlet King felt a long-lost sense of fatigue: but isn't this the ultimate mission he was born to perform? He has no reason to choose to retreat at this time.

The Primarch straightened his chest, and his depression came as quickly as his ambition returned: when the Archangel's words just landed, Magnus had already followed the guidance of the double-headed eagle and looked at the final arbiter of the fate of everyone present.

The Emperor was there, in front of all the audience, sitting at the top of a pyramid-shaped building, with Malcador and Valdor standing on his left and right: the Lord of Mankind was fully armed, holding the sword that symbolized the Great Crusade, and the elites that symbolized the supreme authority of the Imperium of Mankind. Magnus had never seen his Gene-Father appear in front of him in such a serious manner.

He instinctively bent his spine again, and his eyes quickly left the Emperor who was shining like the sun throughout the palace. He looked around, looking at the honorable seats second only to the Emperor: the ordinary benches were mostly occupied by dignitaries and high officials that he was too lazy to remember, only those thrones that were specially opened up, the second-level thrones, were occupied by figures that the Primarch felt familiar with.

All his brothers, from Jonson to Alpharius, were all present. They were divided into two opposing groups along the direction of the two podiums, but the atmosphere was not tense. Most of them just stood side by side in twos and threes, talking to each other. Whisper inaudibly, or greet each other with a smile.

He saw Jaghatai Khan staying next to Horus, and the two men nodded to him with serious faces; he saw a large space circled next to Jonson's seat, which was obviously reserved for him. Morgan and others were beside him; he also saw the miserable Leman Russ, sitting alone at the bottom of the stairs, ready to rush up and bite him at any time.

He saw the Forge General Kalbehar and his closest bishops, who were perhaps the most indifferent of all the people present: Magnus also noticed that Perturabo was actually related to the Forge of Mars. The generals stood side by side like close friends. The two of them seemed to be talking happily, and the hands they held tightly obviously reached some important agreement.

Funny, he had never heard of the Lord of Steel having any friends on Mars before.

The original body blinked, and his eyes quickly passed over those people worthy of his attention: the military lord of the empire, the commander-in-chief of the mortal auxiliary army, and the general of the imperial navy did not seem to be on his side, but they were. The green-robed Head of Star Vision and the leaders of the Navigator family seemed worth fighting for. The two groups of them were very close to each other, sitting next to the position reserved for the Spider Queen.

Obviously, his dear sisters of Avalon have attracted strong allies for him: which governor of Holy Terra dares to defy the wishes of the Astral Court? Which marshal or admiral would dare to offend the normally silent navigator family?

When they realize how huge and important the power represented by psychic energy is, these restless people will make the right choice.

Confidence, boundless confidence began to consume Magnus's less cautious soul.

He cast a grateful glance at Morgan, but saw the hint in the Spider Queen's eyes. Only then did Magnus notice that his wandering eyes had been transfixed for too long: the Emperor's voice was summoning them, the Primarch He quickly followed Sanguinius' pace.

The Emperor only named a few people, including Magnus himself, Morgan, and Mortarion. Guilliman, Conrad and others quietly returned to their positions: Morgan and Mortar Ryan was on one side of Magnus, slightly half a body behind him. He looked like a guard responsible for guarding the father of the Thousand Sons, but also like an opponent ready to draw his sword at any time.

In an unusual calm. The four Primarchs stood at the toes of the pyramid, kneeling down and saluting the Lord of Mankind like courtiers. After receiving permission, they stood up again. Then, Sanguinius, who was responsible for the introduction, resigned, and they were replaced by Sanguinius. While saluting, Malcador slowly walked down from the pyramid.

The bearer held the scepter, which symbolized the emperor's supreme majesty, and raised it in front of them. However, to Magnus' surprise, Morgan and Mortarion did not step forward. They maintained an astonishing attitude. Tacit Understanding: The genetic father of the Thousand Sons can only place his hand alone on the scepter.

"Magnus."

The Signer's voice was old, but the Primarch did not dare to despise him: he knew that Malcador was speaking for the Emperor.

"In front of everyone, are you willing to swear to respect the Emperor's final judgment, solemnly confess all you have done, and accept the possible fate of you and your Legion: to swear on your life to follow the Emperor's instructions forever and ever? Your review and judgment on Nicaea.”

"I swear: with my blood, my dreams and my soul."

Magnus made the oath without hesitation in his loudest voice, but in his own heart, King Prospero frowned tightly: he knew that this oath was necessary A step, but why did these oaths from Malcador's mouth make him so uneasy?

It's like putting him in the position of a sinner in advance?

Has Mortarion and others' smear campaign against him gotten to this serious level?

Out of instinct, Magnus looked towards the Lord of Death, but the next scene made him even more confused: Malcador had already walked up to Mortari and Morgan holding a scepter. The blood relatives who were supposed to be incompatible with each other continued to maintain the tacit understanding they had before, tacitly placing their hands on the scepter.

"Morgan, Mortarion."

The palm bearer nodded.

"Are you willing to swear in front of all witnesses that every sentence and every opinion you will elaborate on next will be faithful and come from your heart, in order to bring eternal glory and happiness to mankind and the empire? : You will compete and debate fairly, submit to the emperor's final decision equally, and accept the final results of this meeting willingly."

【certainly. 】

Morgan was the first to speak.

While Barbarus was still thinking about how to give his answer as seriously as possible, the Spider Queen, who had long been familiar with this kind of small scene, had already put on her pure, seemingly innocent look. A seemingly inviolable smile: Among the mortals present and even most of the Primarchs, no one would doubt the sincerity in Morgan's words at this time.

She made her promise seriously.

[I pledge all my loyalty and love to the Lord of Mankind, my friendship and protection to my brother Magnus, and my memory of my adoptive parents who gave birth to me and raised me: I will do my best to Follow whatever decisions are made by the Emperor and the Council of Nicaea, and let my Legion and his children receive the glory and glory they have longed for from Holy Terra. 】

As soon as these words came out, not to mention the ignorant mortals who stood in awe, Magnus, who was moved in his eyes, put all the previous confusion and doubt behind his mind. Even Mortarion, who was standing opposite Morgan, Amidst the emotions of shock and confusion, they all gave the Spider Queen a glance of approval with a hint of admiration.

"May your vows soon be as true as Magnus's wisdom."

I'm afraid the only exception is the calm-faced palm-printer in front of Morgan: I saw even a hint of strange pride on Malcador's face. He nodded, and his old tone was filled with the feeling that only Morgan himself can After hearing the sarcasm, he turned to look at Mortarion, quietly listening to the oath that was as dry as Barbarus's.

"very good."

After doing all this, the Seal Holder nodded, turned around and retreated back to Magnus.

"Now, we can get started."

Then, he waved his hand, and three hooded attendants suddenly appeared from behind the palmer, each leading a original body towards the direction of the auditorium on both sides: Morgan already had several brothers there. While waiting for her, Mortarion nodded with Leman Russ. It seemed that they had already formed an alliance. The seat next to the Wolf King was reserved for him.

While Magnus was muttering to himself about this despicable alliance of barbarians, he was searching for confusion in his brain about the strange scenes just now. But at this moment, he suddenly realized that the attendant responsible for leading him did not Take him in the direction of the audience: but directly to the podium in the center of the venue?

"What's going on?"

Later, Prospero discovered that Malcador had not left: apparently he was supervising him.

"This is the first decree of the Emperor."

The old voice could not be rejected, because it contained the smell of the sun. Following Malcador's withered fingers, the original body could see the first floor closest to the ground in the auditorium on Morgan's side: A place has been carved out for the Primarch, and his descendants are waiting for him there.

"You and your followers must remain there throughout the meeting."

"Across from Mortarion?"

The Primarch frowned in disgust.

"This is the Emperor's request."

The Master's tone was so strong that Magnus felt like a suspect who was about to be sentenced to death.

"in addition."

The person holding the print added another sentence: his finger pointed to the podium opposite.

"Before anything begins, Magnus of Prospero, you must remain on this rostrum: many have applied to put questions to you before the debate, and you must answer them until no one can Standing on the podium opposite you, you will then be able to return to your place, and then the other Primarchs will begin to express their own opinions. "

"What's this?"

Magnus snorted coldly. He didn't notice how ferocious his face was.

"Do I have to put up with their minions before I fight against my brothers?"

"Many of the mortals who ask you questions do so out of genuine confusion and panic."

"I'm not obligated to answer them."

"But it is your duty to make your views on these matters heard by the Emperor and all others."

Malcador refused to give an inch, and even refused to make his tone softer: Magnus felt his fists clenched, and he had never felt that the old bone in front of him was as annoying as it was now.

"Well, I will do it: solely to fulfill the Emperor's orders and my oath."

Magnus's words were squeezed out from between his teeth one word at a time.

Then, he threw away his arms and ignored the attendants and Malcador beside him. Like a hero rushing to the execution ground, he walked to the podium with determination on his face: This is not the first time that the original body has stood on the podium. But this time it felt particularly impactful.

Magnus even felt that he could not use graphical language to describe his... situation at this time.

Because the podium was facing away from the audience where Morgan and others were sitting, he couldn't see any of his friends and supporters: he couldn't see the faces of Morgan and Guilliman, or the Astropath and Navigator. The representatives of the members could not see the worry in the pupils of the Thousand Sons warriors who were trapped in their positions.

All he could see was malice and ignorance.

He saw Mortarion and Leman Russ standing closest to him, the disdain and hatred on their faces undisguised. He saw those mortals who were bewitched by rumors, staring at monster-like eyes. Staring at him, they whispered about his reputation: wizard, tyrant, necromancer, vicious criminal, monster that eats men and women alive...

He saw those brothers who didn't know much about him or were prejudiced against him: the smile on Alpharius's face was so mysterious and disgusting, Ferus was like a statue isolated from the world, and the shepherd wolf The smile shown by the god seemed to be comforting him but was so weak. The Chagatai Khan beside him might be the only kindness he could feel at this time, but compared with the purity before, this kind of kindness was insignificant. There was an uncomfortable silence.

Looking to the left, the emperor's bright light makes people unable to open their eyes, while on the right, the cold air behind the bronze door has not been completely sealed out, and is eroding people's skin, and private whispers are like mosquitoes. The silence in the depths of his brain was biting, and the noisy sound of the Palmist flipping through his lecture notes made the original body feel agitated for no reason.

Take it easy.

Magnus said to himself.

You can do it: it’s just a counterattack by some mediocre people who stick together to keep warm.

You have friends, you have comrades, and you will achieve a clean victory.

You will triumph and be famous throughout the ages.

Magnus closed his eyes: fleeting fragments of memory washed over his mind.

There was a strange look on Morgan's face.

An abnormal number of brothers came to greet him.

That long, weird passage that shouldn't be so dark.

The scepter held by Malcador and the oath that anyone with a discerning eye could sense something was wrong.

The Emperor's gaze.

Mortarion smiled confidently.

The uneasiness and throbbing in my heart.

And for some reason, that mantra was suddenly forgotten by him.

He hadn't thought about it yet.

And here and now...

Standing here, at a loss, any ants can attack him, but his opponents can sit in the audience, as if their status is higher than him, as if everyone present has a higher status than him .

As if they were all right and none of them needed to be blamed.

And he was wrong.

Is he the accused...criminal...person?

【……】

Magnus was silent.

first.

For the first time in my life.

He felt that even the comforting words he had spoken to himself had become less reassuring.

"Let's get right to the point."

With his fingers trembling, he heard Malcador slowly pronounce the first name.

"So, the first person who applied to speak to Magnus and everyone, please now stand opposite Magnus and give us your opinions and questions: it is necessary for me to introduce you to everyone name and identity.”

"From the Fourteenth Legion, Captain of the Primarch Mortarion."

"Calas-Typhon."