Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

Page 844

[Actually, I came for you, my brother, Magnus.]

[Killiman] spoke sincerely, gently grasping [Magnus]'s arms and looking at [Magnus]—he would even embrace him if necessary.

The Primarchs of this period were rebellious and curious, with an absolute obstinacy for their own personality. They were willing to pay a heavy price for their so-called brilliant ideas. The mortals below them revered them, while the Emperors above them despised them. Among their peers, there was always competition and jealousy.

Therefore, a little favor—a little so-called respect—a little so-called equality, is like a flame on a winter night—after all, these Primarchs had never been treated like this before.

But this still depends on the person. Only someone as foolish as Magnus would believe these things, while Guilliman never cared about these nonexistent things. He wanted others to grovel and kneel, he wanted the scepter of the entire empire, and he wanted the crown on the emperor's forehead.

[Killiman] let bitterness tinge his smile.

[In the future, you...you sacrificed yourself, Magnus.]

[?! ...

[Killiman] glanced quietly at his brother, who was so innocent, so naive, and so kind when necessary. [Magnus] was shocked and almost speechless.

[I...I don't understand, Guilliman.]

[Killiman] shook his head, only managing a wry smile. His eyes as he looked at [Magnus] were filled with an expression that the Primarch couldn't understand.

[I just miss you, my brother... In the future, you sacrificed yourself to win that war... I know you are facing a choice now, I know both sides want you to make a choice, Magnus, but I want you to believe—believe in your own heart.]

[I don't understand—why me?!]

Magnus was shocked. He was trying to understand Guilliman's words, but he didn't care. These words didn't require Magnus to understand them now. They were a seed that only needed to sprout when the time was right.

[Because of Him...]

[Killiman] sighed, and he stretched out his hand, in his palm was something broken, like shattered pale blue crystal, or like a clear river that had fallen from a great height and scattered in all directions.

[That blue presence,]

"Killiman" said softly, his blue eyes shining brightly with faith, regret, and hope.

If it weren't for peeking into Zijj's memories, and if it weren't for those absurd dreams, [Guilliman] would never have paid any attention to such a red-skinned fool. He would rather lie on [Angron's] guest bed, watching [Angron] being slowly tortured in front of him with utter boredom.

[He chose you… Fate chose you, Magnus, and I am powerless to change that… Even if I were to fight against Him alongside you—it could only be you, for you once wounded Him, and therefore He is fixated on you.]

[Killiman] raised his hand, and another fragment of fate rose from his palm, drifting to [Magnus]'s forehead, shining like a star.

[Is this... my soul?]

[A small portion,]

[Killiman] added,

[I only found scattered traces of its existence beside its struggling body; I think this might help you.]

Magnus remained silent, extending his psychic energy. After confirming that the soul fragment, which resonated strongly with him, was safe, he...

He chose to accept it.

Seeing that Magnus had accepted the fragment from another destiny, Guilliman's eyes darkened, and then he spoke again in a serious tone.

[Magnus—I still hope you can survive. I don't know if my actions will change the future, but I hope that this time, before facing evil, you can think more about yourself.]

[Magnus, you are a hero.]

[Guilliman] released his grip, stood up silently, took a few steps back, and watched as the Primarch in front of him screamed in a huge burst of light. Then, the light dimmed, and in the desolation, [Guilliman] saw the one-eyed [Magnus] with tears streaming down his face—the adult one.

[Killiman?]

A trembling voice came from Magnus, while Guilliman responded with a disjointed, incoherent reply.

[I remember now... I remember everything... I gave half of my soul to the Lord of Change.]

[That was your own choice, Magnus. Although it's regrettable, I still respect your decision.]

[No--]

Magnus suddenly roared,

[No! It's necessary—I must give Him a part of my soul—though this time He will never let me invoke calamity again! —And—Guilliman! Guilliman—you didn't…you didn't know? I see you.]

I don't understand.

"Killiman said calmly,"

[Sorry, Magnus, but I don't quite understand what you're saying. Could you give me a hint?]

[No……]

Magnus suddenly let out a mournful cry.

[I understand... You don't know anything yet, Guilliman. The you I saw was your future self.]

No, actually, it was myself just now.

[Killiman] thought to himself, but his expression remained unchanged.

[So what are you going to do? Magnus—it's dangerous inside the palace now. If you don't want to get involved in this war, leave immediately.]

No! I have to get involved—

"Magnus!" he shouted in an unquestionable voice.

[I understand completely now, just like Macardo back then... I understand everything now; a powerful enough force must sacrifice itself to sever all tragedy and evil.]

[Killiman—I actually saw it,]

Magnus turned around, smiling apologetically.

[I saw you become king, Guilliman… I'm sorry my prophecy ends here, but I knew you would be the right person… You were the one who found me back then, oh… I remember everything, Guilliman, I'm sorry I may have to go first again, failing your kindness.]

[Wait?! What are you doing?!]

[Killiman] stepped forward, trying to stop [Magnus], but it was too late. This foolish guy had already made his choice and believed from the beginning that he was the right one.

Unfortunately, he entrusted himself to the wrong person.

[Please remember to apologize to Ruth for me... Ruth hasn't come looking for me since then. I know what he saw in my single eye... I hope to clear up his misunderstanding of me, Guilliman, please.]

Oh, I will, of course I will.

[Killiman]'s smile grew wider and wider until it reached a horrifying angle—"I will cut off that stupid dog Ruth's head and hang his dog's head in front of your legion's graveyard."

................................................

The strong wind whipped up little Magnus's red hair, making it flutter wildly in the wind.

A brilliant blue light, enough to ignite a sun, rose before his eyes, and Magnus saw Macado offering himself up in the center with outstretched arms—the old man's figure was already like a withered branch in the wind.

I do.

Magnus shouted—he remembered those illusory, non-existent memories, memories of the future, memories of the past.

The arrogant and ever-changing Lord still hoped to toy with Magnus, making him pay an absolute price and become a clown.

But Magnus, the master of all changes, failed once again—because of the great Magnus!!!

[bring it on!!!]

Magnus screamed in anguish, feeling blood gushing from his throat.

[Come! Lord of Change—I call you to Terra, I call you to the Palace—I call you to His presence—to the Lord of Mankind!]

A fountain of blood gushed from his eyes, the contract was made... the contract... haha... [Magnus] was destined to make Tzeentch fall twice here!

Magnus cried out, and with his words, Macado within the giant pillar of light was completely incinerated and vanished into the wind. At the same time, a massive blue hole opened in the very center of the labyrinth at that location, and the entire Terran palace was enveloped in a blinding light—the warp had fully descended.

The Primarch felt a powerful force pulling him away into the distance—

................................................

Nine hours later, Guilliman, his face covered in blood and laughing maniacally, carrying a short sword forged like a spine, followed by Mortarian, whose face was filled with death, strode out of the underground labyrinth.

A dazzling crown is shining brightly on Robert Guilliman's head.

[What a bunch of idiots!]

[Killiman] laughed as he kicked away the corpses blocking their way, but his laughter terrified everyone—it was the insane, maniacal laughter of some monster.

[The false emperor has been executed! And now you're telling me the defense battle outside isn't over yet—is Peturabo really that stubborn?!]

He angrily rebuked his subordinates, watching the Ultramarines hurriedly run back, then Guilliman turned his head with his unblinking blue eyes to look at the heavily injured Mortarion.

[I think you should first gather with your legion—enjoy your last moments together.]

[Guilliman] bared sixteen teeth. [Motalian], surrounded by eighty-one Grand Think Tanks, stood rooted to the spot, his eyes blazing with fury, staring intently at [Guilliman].

[What? Don't you understand?]

When Killieman smiles...

[I told you you could go and reunite—after that, I doubt you'll see so many of your beloved offspring again, Mortarion. Legion reform is urgently needed.]

The fury in Mortalian's eyes could burn the entire Guilliman to ashes, but that only makes Guilliman more amused. How amusing! Even if he hates you so much he wants to torture you to death, you can still control him.

[You'll pay for this, Number Thirteen, Robert Guilliman.]

[Thank you for your curse.]

[Killiman]'s smile remained unchanged as he watched [Motalian]'s figure slowly disappear from his sight.

The next moment, [Killiman] turned back with a blank expression.

He strode forward, kicking aside any Ultramarines who couldn't get out of his way. Guilliman berated his offspring—why had he already dealt with the False Emperor, yet they hadn't even taken care of the outer defenses?!

Then, Guilliman smiled again. Countless battle reports were pouring in. He knew what he had to do, so he drew his sword—the sword of Magnus, the righteous and sacrificed one.

He strode toward the side hall where [Fugen] and [Emperor's Son] were stubbornly resisting.

Chapter 843 [285] Uh... please don't be disgusting [Killiman]

(Warning: Based on the character relationships in the original GW work, this chapter contains similar homoerotic descriptions between Fernus and Fugen (???))

[Why?!!]

The pale sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the chaotic hall. The crystal chandelier on the ceiling had long since fallen and shattered on the floor, and scattered bullets rolled across the gleaming marble floor before slowly coming to a stop amidst the pool of blood.

Ripples spread across the calm pool of blood, as a massive, furious, and uncompromising roar echoed.

[Why?!!!]

[Why?]

Behind the makeshift shelter, [Angron] grinned, panting, while the Frenzied Lustman's mouth was torn open as he clutched his chest, gasping for breath, blood gushing from between his fingers—

Damn it, Fugen's technique is just too good; the Primarch's sword is like it has a soul.

[Angron] grinned, savoring the countless exchanges just now, but unfortunately he was a little tired. Every mental attack he saw was a flawless, pure white wall, as calm and perfect as the phoenix itself.

Tsk tsk tsk, such perfect prey... [Angron] wants to capture [Fuggen] alive. The purer the virgin, the more lewd she becomes after falling into depravity. He wants to offer this masterpiece to desire, to make her suffer in the hell of greed.

Thinking of this, and imagining the image of [Fugen] collapsing, [Angron] felt a surge of energy and motivation climbing up his spine again. He greedily licked his lips, casually pulled a syringe from his waist, aimed the needle at the second heart, and prepared to reward himself with another shot—

[You can save your breath, Angron.]

A chilling voice rang out, and [Angron] almost instinctively jolted. The Primarch looked up at the entrance to the side hall, where the [World Eaters] stationed there were in a commotion.

[You've disappointed me, Anglo. I don't think wasting time having fun on Terra is a good choice.]

An undeniable voice rang out, carrying a perplexing feeling, as if the voice did not originate from the throat or tongue, but from some higher-dimensional being trying to imitate the human voice, just as an alien sun slowly rose before them, its deep blue and golden light illuminating the entire hall and casting an eerie blue light on everyone's faces.

[Killiman...]

Before Angron could speak, Fugen spoke first. Behind the cover that Angron could not see, Fugen's voice was like the calm surface of the sea before a raging storm, with destructive anger suppressed on the surface.

[Traitor... I misjudged you.]

[In fact,]

The Primarch, now taller, larger, more dazzling, and more ethereal, strode into the space. The next moment, [Angron] sensed that something was different, as if the entire space they inhabited had been dug out and thrown into the warp. In an instant, the reliefs throughout the hall seemed to come alive. They began to writhe, yet stopped before the soul could perceive them. The fallen crystals also reflected a chaotic array of different blue flames.

[You've misjudged everyone. Fugen—Finnus Manus—was also involved in this rebellion. Otherwise, why haven't you seen the Iron Hands coming from orbit to provide support?]

In the silence, [Angron] seemed to see [Fuggen's] ashen face and the blood spilling from his mouth. [Fuggen] fell silent, but then, a furious roar erupted from the silver-haired Primarch's mouth once more.

[I will not believe a single word you utter until I see Phenus with my own eyes! Traitor, face me!]

Footsteps sounded, resolute and elegant. [Fugen] slowly stepped out of his cover. His light armor was riddled with holes, and the armor covering his left abdomen was completely shattered. Fragments of broken armor were embedded in the bloody mess. [Fugen]'s eyes were shining brightly at this moment, and the longsword he held in his hand gleamed even more.

[traitor?]

[Killiman] smiled, calmly standing still, without even adopting a fighting stance.