Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"They all tell me that you have betrayed our cause, Ahriman."

"Everyone says so: you seem to be more hateful than Mortarion and Leman Russ."

"Understandable, father: even the most despicable enemy is better than the most open traitor."

Azak-Ahriman's tone was much more relaxed than he thought, and when his fingers stroked the rim of the exquisite crystal glass, through the mirror image between dimensions, the Thousand Sons could even see the natural smile on his dark facial skin.

Better than he thought.

Both himself and his gene father Magnus.

Lowered his head. Five fingers tightly grasped the swaying scarlet wine, pretending to taste the ancient flavor of Prospero as a cover. Ahriman didn't even dare to move his eyelids, only dared to let his eyeballs slowly roll up to peek at the expression of his gene master.

What is certain is that even though he did not lead in the life-and-death contest in Nikea, Magnus was obviously in good condition: the Primarch's red skin still exuded the confidence and calmness that Ahriman missed, and the wisdom flowing in his pupils was far more eye-catching than his magnificent armor, as if as long as he stared at the Primarch's unintentional smile, he could be sure of Nikea's final victory.

But the only flaw was that even when Magnus was the most indifferent, Ahriman could still clearly see a hint of heaviness between his eyebrows: at least in Ahriman's own memory, he had never seen such a strangeness on the Primarch's face.

It was this heaviness that made Magnus's demeanor unnatural. He seemed to be worried all the time, walking on the red line of discouragement and hysteria: no one knew which side the Primarch would completely fall to in the next moment.

But it was definitely not a good thing.

Based on the current situation and his understanding of Magnus, Ahriman could at least piece together a truth: perhaps the progress of the Nikaea Conference and the [betrayal] of him and Morgan and others did cause Magnus to accumulate a lot of pressure in his heart.

And as far as he knew, his genetic father was not a person who could withstand pressure.

If he had any means, he would definitely use them later.

I hope it won't be too bad.

Ahriman smiled, and even he himself didn't quite know when he had such a boldness that he dared to criticize or even comment on his father in private?

But then again, Ahriman also didn't understand: How did he unknowingly come to the point where he and the legion he came from, his brothers who were connected by blood, and his comrades who had shared life and death with him, regarded each other as enemies?

He was standing on a volcanic world with magma flowing and embers erupting in his breath, but when he really walked into the camp of the Thousand Sons, he could not feel even a trace of warmth: hundreds of hateful eyes were more chilling than the harshest blizzard on Fenris, especially when they came from your blood brothers.

It was ridiculous: the last time they met, he and these people could still resist the frenzy of the Space Wolves Legion shoulder to shoulder like real brothers in the ruins of the battlefield of Shrike Star, entrusting the safety of their backs to each other, even if there were some conflicts and disagreements afterwards, but that was within the expectations that both sides could understand.

Even the howling Wolf King Leman Russ himself did not shake the formation of the Legion brothers for even a moment: but on the land of Nikaea, the Thousand Sons brothers were also looking at his back, and the Wolf King Leman Russ was also standing in front of him.

But the result this time was completely different. Just a few words of dialogue, just a compromise and concession in a word, made the once indestructible brotherhood collapse: how much these people trusted him before, how much they hate him now.

"Ah..."

Ahriman pursed his lips and locked the sigh in his teeth.

Frankly speaking, the current situation is actually within his expectations, but if he really has to face all this, even Ahriman will feel at a loss: the unbreakable brotherhood has never been shaken even in the face of the most brutal war in the galaxy, but in this world that symbolizes peace and prosperity, just a few words from the other party and an unavoidable conflict of interest on their side, all their pasts turned to dust in the blink of an eye.

If it was just false before, Ahriman could still tolerate it, but the problem is that their brotherhood is exactly real: in the Thousand Sons camp, every Son of Magnus who glared at him was once a brother who had sworn blood with him.

Ahriman could swear with his life and soul that this friendship was not false, but its breaking was also real: such a sharp contrast even made Ahriman have a chilling thought.

In his cognition, the brotherhood of the Astartes was the most unbreakable treasure in this galaxy. This was a chain condensed with blood and death, far surpassing the power of all oaths of allegiance and covenants: if even this friendship could be broken so easily, then in this thriving human empire, what else would be eternal and unchanging?

Loyalty? Friendship? Oath? Covenant?

Who can guarantee that these [eternities] will not usher in earth-shaking changes in the next moment?

Will everything they have built with the blood and sacrifice of countless brothers, before the sun rises tomorrow, be like what he experienced just now, because of a betrayal that everyone can insist on, will usher in him? What about the same ending as the Thousand Sons Legion?

Yes, the Legion has killed countless enemies with blades and psychic powers, and the souls under their control are enough to make the galaxy tremble, but now this invisible and intangible new enemy seems to be more challenging than anything they have faced in the past. , are more difficult and dangerous.

Ahriman moved his neck and listened to the creaking sound: he knew that in some very unpopular subjects, there is often a saying that there is a path to success, and he felt that he was in this state now.

After having such worries in his mind, Ahriman suddenly discovered that many people had been puzzled by things before: for example, why Lord Morgan and Lord Guilliman expanded their armaments so frequently, and why the emperor's enfeoffment was in fact There was no opposition from any force, and the tense confrontation between the Ultramarines and Holy Terra spread from unknown corners.

The news had once confused him, but now it dawned on him.

Then, there were drops of cold sweat.

"You look out of shape, my capable Ahriman?"

"Perhaps, my lord."

Ahriman smiled. He found that his smile had become weak. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. After being fully prepared, the Thousand Sons raised his head: he and the original body sat face to face. , with nothing else but a half-meter-square table in the middle, both of them could clearly observe even the slightest detail on the other's face.

"Let me think about it..."

Even when he was smiling, Ahriman could still see the clear worry in Magnus's brows.

"Did Fusistaka and the others treat you too badly?"

Magnus was calling the name of the current Second Captain of the Thousand Sons Legion. After Ahriman left, Forsis was indeed the first person under the Primarch in the Thousand Sons Legion in terms of ability and status. : When the Thousand Sons were collectively hostile to Ahriman, it was revealed that Forsis was indeed their leader.

But what is very interesting is that when people like Forsis, who are more inclined to do things, look at Ahriman, the color of hatred is not so strong. The people who really hate Ahriman are those who did not even enter the venue. , new brothers whose names he couldn't name.

In contrast, the aura of Magnus in these people is also particularly strong.

"Forsyth is fine: but most of the brothers don't actually know what happened at the venue."

"Rumors always become more and more distorted as they spread."

The primarch nodded.

"However, there are indeed too many complaints about your performance from the whole legion. Even I did not foresee this problem: I just thought about it in my room for a while and sorted out the situation of the Nicaea meeting. The hostility towards you is already overwhelming.”

Having said this, both Magnus and Ahriman smiled helplessly: Although the original body's words sounded like beatings, Ahriman did not feel the slightest hostility or coldness from Magnus.

Quite the opposite: Magnus' tone sounded more like a whiny tone.

"You don't know, Ahriman."

"Forsis, Hathor, Calliston, Kalofis, and others: there are nine companies in the Thousand Sons Legion, but there are seven company captains who want to chop off your head. I will cut off my head." His descendants were divided into five sects, and as a result, temple lecturers from three sects blocked my door and suggested that I take action to capture you. "

"Then I delivered it myself."

The Thousand Sons looked at the eagle carving inlaid with blood-red gems casually: On the land of Nicaea, the descendants of Magnus naturally could not imitate Ullanor and build a crystal pyramid capable of knocking down Sanguinius. Bearded and tailed to the ground, Prospero's king had to resign himself to a resting room with almost no decorations.

The only good thing is that, on the grounds that the room was too cramped, Magnus sent all the other heirs out during the conversation with Ahriman, and even the necessary Primarch Guards were locked out: This made it easier for Ahriman to speak freely in front of the Primarch.

His words were bolder than imagined.

"Yeah, you delivered it to the door."

Magnus looked at his child.

"To tell you the truth, Ahriman, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't come to me, and in my mind, my captain is never an aimless character: do you have something to say to me here? Did I say that?”

"Of course, my lord."

Ahriman nodded.

"Whether it is as a descendant or as a like-minded partner in the pursuit of knowledge, I am curious about your current attitude: whether it is your attitude towards the Nicaea Conference or your attitude towards my speeches."

"I thought you weren't going to take care of my feelings before you said these words."

The Primarch rubbed his hands together and shifted his weight slightly forward so that he could better observe his most powerful son.

"What? Ahriman: Do you yourself feel those words are a betrayal?"

Qianzi did not answer this question directly.

"How do I put it...Look."

Ahriman spread his hands and pointed in the direction of the door.

"My brothers seemed to have made up their minds before I arrived."

"Do you care about this?"

The Primarch smiled and shook his head.

"Ahriman, my Ahriman: Although we are together less and more apart, I have been paying attention to your growth and career development. I know what kind of person you are in your heart: once you identify the principles you follow, even if The whole world will stand up against you, and you will reach the end of the road alone."

"You were born a prodigal: so I never thought of tying you down."

"It's better to stay with me, but if you want to leave to pursue your career and your share of truth, as your genetic father and spiritual mentor, what right do I have to deny you? What about pursuit?”

Magnus waved his hand, he really didn't care about this.

"Besides, there is no need for you to worry about the attitude of those brats outside. After we leave Nikaia, I will explain the details of the matter to them clearly: I don't think you have not encountered anything while wandering around the world. Overcome the hostility of others, my child, you should be able to understand the reason. "

"Since you choose to pursue the truth, you will naturally receive hostility and denial, possibly even from your former confidants: in the final analysis, your actions on Nicaea are just speaking for another kind of truth, although It is not the truth that the Thousand Sons follow, but we cannot reject it blindly."

"As long as it is the truth, it deserves respect."

“As long as it’s a hypothesis, it’s worth thinking about.”

"You're just speaking, you're just following your path: these are all guilt-free."

"Since we are discussing the matter, what is the crime?"

At this moment, the tall figure of Magnus made Ahriman fall into deep thought. His memory seemed to return to that night over the Star Shrike decades ago: his genetic father used such words to release The shackles on Ahriman allowed him to truly let go of everything, stand up, and embrace the stars.

And now, Magnus has given him the final confidence with his sincere attitude.

"My thoughts remain the same, Ahriman of whom I am most proud."

Perhaps seeing what Ahriman was thinking, Magnus actually winked at his child mischievously.

"You did nothing wrong and you don't have to feel guilty about it at all."

"Then...are you not angry?"

Unconsciously, Ahriman's voice had become much softer.

"Actually, there is still a little bit..."

Magnus leaned back in the chair, his lips moving, a little embarrassed.

"If from an emotional point of view, I am indeed angry at your [betrayal], but you must also remember that the greatest advantage of me is that I will not be swayed by emotions: my thinking is always rational, so I can put myself in your shoes and feel your difficult situation. Under the siege of Leman Russ, your answer actually protected our greater interests."

"At least we protected the think tank."

The Primarch clenched his fists in a gesture of victory.

"That's enough."

"As for the rest..."

Magnus looked toward the wall: the clock was ticking again.

The time for rest was fleeting: the arena in Nicaea was open again.

"I'm going to make a point here: just wait and see, my child."

"Your job is accomplished: now it's Magnus' turn."

After saying that, Magnus stood up with a cheerful face, pulled his son up, and did not forget to pat Ahriman on the shoulder.

"Stay here: I'll get rid of the troublesome people outside first."

"I am grateful, my lord."

Ahriman nodded, but in his heart, he inadvertently confirmed one thing.

That is: the breath he felt from the Thousand Sons brothers outside belonged to [Magnus], and the breath he felt from the original body Magnus, which truly belonged to Magnus, seemed...

Not quite the same?

Ahriman frowned.

I don't know why: but the aura of the original body is obviously more chaotic.

It's like...

Just like Magnus and the Thousand Sons: seem to be being cut off?

That invisible, intangible... connection between the Primarch and his Legion?

The Thousand Sons were cut from Magnus?

No……

It would be better to say: It is more like Magnus himself, or a part of him, is being quietly pulled by an unknown existence in the dark.

Little by little, away from his legion.

Or, quietly: turning into another person behind your back?

Another: internal?

"..."

Hi……

It seemed that he was indeed a little tired.