Lupercal

Once again, Garviel Loken noticed this.

At first, he tried to ignore it, but the surrounding environment made it impossible. They were like the red warning that appeared in the upper right corner of his visor when his Power Armour was breached. Even with your eyes closed, the alarm would still reach your ears.

As he walked across the deck, a strange chill often emanated from those dark, shadowless corners, and if he didn't look closely, he could even faintly hear whispers.

The number of ordinary crew members on the ship dwindled day by day, disappearing without a trace, even those he knew were gone. He asked around, but received no useful answers. Nobody knew where they had gone.

The Servitor's forms began to become strange and distorted, and Garviel Loken was certain it wasn't the work of the Techmarine or the Mechanicum. What troubled him most, however, were his own brothers.

It was a subtle change he couldn't describe, and he tried to tell himself that, apart from the legion's name, they hadn't changed, but that was just self-deception. Garviel Loken felt an uncontrollable unease whenever he stared into their eyes.

He could no longer endure it, which was why he was now walking on the road to Tarik Torgaddon Torgaddon's room—he didn't know who else he could go to, and he could only hope that Torgaddon hadn't changed.

His hope came true.

Tarik Torgaddon Torgaddon seems to never change.

"You've come at just the right time, Garviel Loken. I was actually planning to go see you."

"What?" Garviel Loken asked.

He didn't lay out his thoughts and ideas at the first meeting; he needed time to find the right words and to get to the point. But Tarik Torgaddon Torgaddon was clearly much more direct.

"What else could it be?" Torgaddon chuckled, drawing a deep line on his neck with his thumb. "Of course, I'm here to talk to you about what to eat tonight—what else? What did you think I wanted to talk to you about?"

Garviel Loken was almost amused by his joke, but unfortunately, he couldn't manage to laugh. He raised his hand, made a gesture, but his eyes remained lowered.

Finding the right words is never an easy task for someone like him, and he hesitated for more than ten seconds before slowly speaking. Torgaddon waited patiently the whole time, without showing any anxiety or impatience, nor did he urge him.

But for some reason, Garviel Loken felt as if he knew what Loken was going to say.

So he actually asked that question.

"You know what I'm trying to say, don't you?"

"More or less," Torgaddon said, a genuine, calm mist now spreading across his usually smiling face. "Actually, I kind of hope you won't come looking for me, so I can escape for a while longer with a clear conscience."

"Escape?"

"Yes, I keep telling myself: Hey, if even Garviel Loken hasn't noticed anything amiss, then I must be mistaken. But you're here, brother, so I guess we can't keep ignoring this any longer."

Garviel Loken nodded and said in a barely audible voice, "That was murder, a slave duel."

"Yeah," Torgaddon said. "They've all gone mad. I heard them joking about the Emperor's Children's death when I left the training room this morning. I don't understand, Garviel Loken, I just don't get it."

Actually, you know the answer, Garviel Loken thought. You just don't dare to say it yet.

But I don't dare.

He gave a bitter smile. In that instant, he realized he still held onto hope for Horus, just like Torgaddon. They both hoped that Horus Lupercal would find them again, admit his mistakes, and ask for their opinions, just as he had done before.

But in another corner of their hearts, they both knew that this could not possibly happen.

Well, actually, it happened, but only halfway. Five minutes after the conversation began, the door to Torgaddon's room opened. Horus Lupercal, dressed in casual clothes, stood there smiling, staring at them with eyes like black holes.

--

Torgaddon and Garviel Loken think you're an idiot, a fool, unable to realize what they're doing right under your nose, but you're not. You're looking at them, and they're looking at you, with fear in their eyes.

You almost burst out laughing—why be afraid of me, my sons? I am your Gene-Father, and I would never do anything to harm you.

But you didn't say those words aloud; you approached them, still smiling.

You slammed the door shut behind you, using your highest-level privileges to control the door to Tarik Torgaddon Torgaddon's room. They all took a step back at that moment—it was ridiculous.

A surge of anger rises within you; you cannot tolerate such insults, but you must endure them. They are your sons; their foolishness can be forgiven.

Besides, now is not the time. If they are truly willing to die as fools, then it's not too late for you to draw your sword.

"I'm so sorry to come to you at this time, but I had to, my sons. I have a task for you." You say with a smile—no way, you're not apologizing at all, you're doing it on purpose. You're spying on them.

Wait, how are you monitoring them?

A voice in the darkness answered you with a whisper, and you forgot the answer, forgot the question, and plunged back into the inquiry. You saw them standing side by side, their faces full of wariness.

Your smile grew even brighter, and you approached them again, raising your hands and sincerely placing them on their shoulders.

"I hope you understand that there is a reason for everything I have done these past few days. My brother. He was Deceit; he attacked me beside my Throne," you said gently.

Is this a lie? Probably not, Fulgrim did attack you.

The mere mention of that name fills you with sorrow. You cannot understand why the Chemos would do such a thing to you; he was so loyal, so perfect, he should have stood with you against the greatest liar in the Milky Way.

Garviel Loken and Torgaddon looked at you with suspicion. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but as two of the members of the Mournival, they were not present at the time, which provided you with ample opportunity to confuse them.

You kept smiling, pouring all the sadness you had just felt into your smile.

You said, "I had to fight back. He tried to kill me, and every swing of his sword was filled with genuine killing intent. I don't understand what's wrong with him."

"Primarch, is that really so?" You hear Garviel Loken's question, and you see fear in his eyes.

You nodded regretfully, indicating that what you said was indeed true, and also expressing your regret over Garviel Loken's reaction.

"But why do you want the Emperor's Children to fight each other?" Tarik Torgaddon Torgaddon asked another question.

You looked at him and found no fear in his eyes. You blinked, and suddenly some images flashed through your mind. It was a dead Astartes; it took you a moment to recognize who it was, and then you laughed— Torgaddon, you're dead?

You pat him on the shoulder, look him in the eyes, and tell him, "Because this is the only way to save my brother."

A poor explanation, you might think. But it is indeed salvation; it is the only way to free Fulgrim from the lie. The father's blood continues in the son, and in turn, the son's blood can awaken the father's id.

Yes, the id.

You smiled inwardly, not understanding why you did it, but you were definitely happy inside. After a while, in an almost still moment, you remembered why you were smiling.

You realize that you may know two Fulgrim. No, no, actually, you know many "others," and you can see them as they truly are. That's why you fight for them; you can't tolerate them being Deceit by lies.

Once a person has seen the truth, they can no longer live in lies.

"By killing each other, Father?" Garviel Loken asked again.

You look at him again and realize that beneath his straightened chest and expressionless face lies a deep-seated fear. You don't blame him for it; you simply smile at him and nod.

You don't need to explain; you just need to throw them into chaos for now. The voyage will soon be over, Isstvan will arrive soon. This war will wipe out all the unbelievers in your legions.

Then you think of Angron, and you feel a pang of regret again—you hope he'll be rational and on your side, but you know that's unlikely. The Nuceria is just a rough gladiator; he probably won't understand why you're doing this.

But that's alright, he'll understand sooner or later.

"They are not killing each other; they are using blood to awaken Fulgrim's conscience, my son," you solemnly tell Garviel Loken, looking directly into his eyes, knowing he is filled with fear.

You devour fear, you feed on it, no one has taken the power over fear, you will become its new master.

"But..." Garviel Loken hesitated before speaking again, then interrupted himself. Yes, he realized it; he realized what tricks you were playing. A murderous intent surged within you.

Etc--

Wait a minute.

Horus Lupercal thought in horror, "What was I just thinking?"

You weren't thinking about anything.

You smiled at Garviel Loken, "As planned, we will head to the Istvaan III to eliminate the traitor. The voyage will take another seven days, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, Fulgrim should recover within those seven days. Don't worry about these things, my son, I will handle everything."

Including you.

"Yes, Primarch." Garviel Loken bowed his head in submission. How clever he was, keeping his head down so you couldn't see his expression. You smiled and looked at Tarik Torgaddon Torgaddon. He wasn't so clever; he looked at you, his eyes devoid of fear.

"See you tomorrow," you tell them, then turn and leave.

You genuinely feel regret.

Also, today's update is 10,000 words.