Hunger Hunger Hunger

"I want your Source Blood Repository." Fabius Bile stared at Cawl.

"Oh?" Cawl appeared quite indifferent. "What do you intend to trade for it, Pater Mutatis?"

Cawl spoke the term that had deified Fabius in High Gothic.

The creatures Fabius had created believed in him and revered him so deeply that, supposedly, those beliefs had continued growing alongside the Blight dwelling within Fabius, forming some kind of lesser entity in the Warp.

The new humans Fabius had created called him Pater Mutatis, the god of new humanity, symbolizing mutation and distortion of both body and mind, representing twisted new branches sprouting from old corpses.

But Fabius Bile refused to be called that. He refused to be worshipped as a god.

"I am not a god," Fabius Bile said with a smile.

The corners of Cawl's mouth twitched slightly, and his gaze toward Fabius became somewhat strange.

Melusine, standing nearby, shook her head faintly as though she found the situation rather helpless.

"As for what I'll trade?" Fabius pointed at the Primarch Prime beside him. "Naturally, I'll trade your most perfect creation."

Belisarius Cawl gave the Primarch Prime a rather unconcerned glance. "He is, in fact, a failed product."

"You may destroy or dissect him as you please. I do not care. I can create something more perfect."

"Yes, neither of us is someone who stops moving forward. We both yearn to create more perfect works, and we both believe we can do it," Fabius Bile agreed. But then his tone shifted. "Yet you must admit, Cawl, that some creations carry extraordinary meaning for us, much as Horus Lupercal did for The Emperor."

"You love him, Cawl. I can see it." Fabius stared at Belisarius Cawl. The backpack behind him, known as the Chirurgeon, unfolded, and a poisoned scalpel pressed against