Interlude: A Wise Man's Thousand Thoughts (Final, 5k)

"What--" Ahriman took a step forward, his lips pursed. 💣ඏ 69Şђu Search and read◆"--What do you mean that person is not you, the original body?"

His hands were trembling violently, and his expression was like that of a log buried by a blizzard, its exposed bare branches devoid of life, shivering in the cold wind.

"Do you really think I can convey any coded messages to you under the watchful eye of the Sigillites, Ahzek Ahriman?" Magnus asked, his back to the burning Tizca.

"Do you really think the Sigillites is so foolish? He is Malcador, Ahzek Ahriman, Malcador the Sigillite. He has stood by my father's side since the founding of the Imperium. I have always been under his control, and I am even blind. Do you think a blind man could outwit him?"

The Primarch's voice was so gentle, yet so sharp. It pierced straight into Ahzek Ahriman's heart, causing him to stagger backward as if struck by a heavy hammer.

Magnus naturally saw this scene. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he wanted to smile, but he couldn't manage it. Only a shallow smile appeared on his face.

Can this expression really be called a "smile"?

Ahzek Ahriman didn't think about it; he had fallen into an abyss, and nothing could temporarily relieve him of the biting cold.

But, but

Ahzek Ahriman humbly raised his hands and whispered what he was about to say, as if in prayer.

"If it wasn't you who was passing me coded messages, guiding me deep into the Great Ocean to seek help, then who was it?"

Magnus did not answer.

He finally couldn't contain himself and burst into a shrill laugh, his city and people burning behind him, his legions calling his name from the depths of the cave, while he himself just laughed out loud.

Ahzek Ahriman's face began to grow increasingly pale and increasingly worrying.

He suddenly bent over, opened his mouth, and made retching sounds, but nothing came out. Only then did he realize that he hadn't eaten for many days.

He studied Magnus's coded language deep within the cave, oblivious to sleep and meals, astonished and ecstatic by the wisdom of his Primarch. The Crimson King had concealed everything in every word he spoke, and following his guidance, Ahzek Ahriman completed the spell.

His footprints covered the entire cave, as well as the Pyramid of Photep and Magnus's Chamber; he even read the Book of Magnus.

And now it seems

If what his Primarch said is indeed true, then what exactly was that thing that conveyed the coded message to him?

The proud Ahzek Ahriman knelt on the ground, vomiting repeatedly, as if he were about to vomit out his own internal organs.

He felt ashamed, shocked, and desperate—he couldn't understand why he had been Deceit; logically, such a thing should never have happened. But then he considered another possibility, another unlikely possibility, one he preferred to believe.

This possibility had only just emerged when it took deep root in Ahzek Ahriman's mind. He tried to ask the question aloud, but Magnus beat him to it.

The Crimson King stopped laughing and came before him. His shadow loomed over Ahzek Ahriman, forcing the Thousand Sons to look up.

He saw two eyes passively radiating psychic Radiance. From the light, Ahzek Ahriman saw no humanity, only extreme joy and ruthless calculation.

Instinctively, Ahzek Ahriman began to delve deeper, and so, as if it were a natural progression, he was drawn into a completely new world. ☟♣ ☹☆

He did not see the Lord of Prospero again; he only saw a bird-like humanoid creature with brilliant feathers, standing on its claws, with deep-set eyes.

"What did you trade, Ahzek Ahriman?" the monster asked.

"Shut up, you monster!" Ahzek Ahriman stood up abruptly, shouting angrily. "You can't Deceit me!"

Magnus frowned, glanced at him, but maintained basic patience. In this situation, even if he abandoned all reason and let rage control him, what could he do?

He intended to ask again and comfort the deeply shocked Ahzek Ahriman. He understood his feelings; after all, his reaction upon discovering the truth was not much different from Ahzek Ahriman's.

Few people can remain rational after realizing they've been living a lie.

However, Ahzek Ahriman clearly disagrees.

A psychic light also shone in Thousand Sons's eyes, and then a beam of light suddenly burst forth from his bent right hand, imprisoning Magnus within it.

Footsteps began to echo from the cave behind him, and one after another, the Thousand Sons, who had been bound by the blue crystal, struggled out. Their bodies had barely begun to move before they started to melt again.

"What are you doing, Ahzek Ahriman?" Magnus asked, suppressing his anger.

"You have no right to speak to me in his voice!" Ahzek Ahriman roared in reply. "I actually managed to Deceit you for a moment, you damned imposter. Haven't you heard my name, our name, in the Great Ocean?!"

Magnus looked at him with utter disappointment, then shifted his gaze to what was behind him. He looked at his offspring, who returned his gaze, but few of their faces remained intact.

Some of them even had their limbs broken, with flesh and blood gushing out from somewhere in their armor, turning their imposing Power Armour into an extremely ridiculous yet terrifying sight.

Magnus looked down at the deep blue binding barrier, and an instinct began to surge within him.

How laughable were the spells Ahzek Ahriman used to him? He could easily break them with just a little effort if he used his psionic powers.

As he pondered, he heard that soft laugh again.

"Just as I said, Magnus, you don't need to resist at all," He said gently. "You just need to accept it, teach your disobedient son a lesson, and let him know who you are. These powers are rightfully yours. Nod, shall you?"

"Never!" the Crimson King answered through gritted teeth in a low voice.

The laughter immediately ceased, followed by Ahzek Ahriman's harsh rebuke. The surrounding Thousand Sons barely managed to maintain their attention, listening to his words with extreme torment.

Magnus didn't even bother to explain—there was no need. He saw Ahzek Ahriman's eyes, radiating blue light, and he clearly saw a falling blue feather.

He had planned everything, even Ahzek Ahriman's radical nature.

Magnus closed his eyes. Despite being in dire straits, he instinctively began to think, considering a solution. His first thought was psionic power—his own psionic power—but he dared not gamble. Tzeentch was still not far away, and using psionic power would certainly be risky.

Silently, the Crimson King clenched his fists.

"I will send you back to the Great Ocean," Ahzek Ahriman said grimly. "And then I will return, do you hear me? I will save my Primarch and my Legion, and no one can stop me!"

As he spoke, he approached Magnus.

With his right hand, he pulled a luminous, deep blue crystal from his pocket. Its Radiance was so dazzling that Magnus had not yet been able to see what it was when he suddenly heard a mumbled call.

Suddenly, a Thousand Sons rushed out, limping and clinging to Ahzek Ahriman, his eyes filled with longing.

"Now is not the time, you idiot!" Ahzek Ahriman shoved him away, cursing angrily.

Thousand Sons stumbled and fell to the ground, unable to get up for a long time. A murky liquid dripped down his cheeks, and flesh and blood began to churn on his face like boiling water. A smell of rotten fruit began to spread in the air.

Magnus's expression immediately became complicated; he could glean something from the Thousand Sons's reaction. He looked up and glanced around; the expressions of the others confirmed his guess.

Without exception, everyone's eyes held that longing.

"What exactly did you trade, Ahzek Ahriman?" Magnus asked, his voice filled with anguish. "And what is it in your hands?"

"It's none of your business!"

Ahzek Ahriman responded with a roar, then burst into laughter.

"You're incredibly stupid, aren't you, monster? If it really were my father here, this binding spell would be something he could break with a mere glance, yet you're firmly bound inside. And even now, you still dare to speak to me with his face on your face?"

As he spoke, the blue Radiance in his eyes began to gradually change.

In Magnus's view, the object in Ahzek Ahriman's eye sockets was no longer Radiance, but feathers. With each step he took, several blue feathers slowly drifted down, leaving deep blue burn marks on the ground.

He walked resolutely toward Magnus, Crimson King sadly prepared himself little by little.

Ahzek Ahriman walked a few steps away from him before stopping and kneeling down. A flash of light appeared in his hand, and the crystal began to turn into powder. Holding the back half of the crystal, Ahzek Ahriman began to inscribe a magic circle on the ground.

He had barely begun writing when Magnus saw what he was trying to do—it was a dispelling formation, practically a compulsory course within the Thousand Sons; if you wanted to advance further, you had to master it.

Journeying Great Ocean is a fascinating adventure; no one knows what they will bring back. Occasionally, however, something truly does return with them.

Thus, this dispelling formation comes in handy. It can send anything that has left the Great Ocean back to where it belongs.

Magnus raised his fist.

His body was now filled with the power of Tzeentch, and he didn't even need to think about what would happen if the dispelling formation actually worked—he absolutely couldn't let that happen.

Thus, for the first time since fully mastering psychic powers, the crimson Magnus truly swung his fist.

He didn't use psionic energy or any magic. He was in dire straits, and could only rely on himself. Compared to the power he once possessed, this was a complete regression, but he no longer cared.

He shattered the barrier with a single punch, sending fragments flying. Ahzek Ahriman looked up in surprise, but before he could say anything, he was sent flying by a heavy punch and fell into a coma.

Magnus stood before his legion, empty-handed, yet his majesty was even greater than before.

"I am Magnus," he said. "The Crimson King, irreplaceable and inimitable. If you wish to follow that foolish Ahzek Ahriman, believing me to be a fake based on his words, then come forth. But if you can discern right from wrong and know who I truly am, I demand of you—"

Before he could finish speaking, a gunshot rang out, completely interrupting his impassioned words, leaving only primal and pure astonishment.

He saw a bomb explode, but not towards him; it was aimed at his offspring. It was too fast for Magnus to stop it, even with his best efforts. He could only watch helplessly as a head exploded, melting flesh and blood immediately spilling from within the armor.

Magnus turned around abruptly and saw Leman Russ Russ and his pack of wolves.

"You foolish barbarian--!"

Russ stared at him intently, saying nothing, then raised her hand and fired another shot. Another Thousand Sons continued to die, while the others seemed frozen in place, showing no sign of resistance.

"Stop! Stop!" Magnus shouted. "Your Throne, what are you trying to do?! I know you dislike me, Russ, but if this is your revenge against me, then you've gone too far!"

"I'm just doing something you should have done a long time ago."

The Fenrisian answered calmly, his expression remaining extremely serious. Magnus had expected to see a face full of enjoyment, like the sneer he had seen before, but he did not.

On the contrary, he even saw sadness in Leman Russ Russ's eyes. The Fenrisian looked back at him and slowly shook his head.

"I see that both your eyes have returned, Magnus, and I wish to congratulate you, but you still seem blind. Can't you see the torment your offspring are enduring?"

Magnus was stunned by his words—yes, my eyes.

He raised his hand, trembling, to touch his eyelids; they were full and firm, not empty. The soft laughter rang in his ears again, fleeting yet more piercing than thunder.

Magnus turned around slowly.

He didn't see his legion; his legion didn't exist at all. There were no Thousand Sons about to melt, none. There was only a horde of mutated, fleshy monsters mixed with fragments of red metal.

Their eyes held no trace of intellect; all Magnus saw was instinct and blatant stupidity.

What an irony! The Thousand Sons, renowned throughout the galaxy for their vast knowledge and superhuman wisdom, is now nothing more than a group of terrifying monsters driven by instinct. They don't even know how to flee from death; their writhing forms are utterly horrifying, utterly terrifying.

Heartbreaking.

Magnus clutched his eyes in anguish; he could barely breathe.

The gunfire continued.

"Do you know what's going to happen next?" Tzeentch's voice rang in his ears again. "This loyal dog with a master will kill your offspring, and then kill you, Magnus."

"Once he understands your current state, you will have no chance of escaping death. Prospero has already begun to burn; time is ticking away, and you don't have much time left. Make your decision quickly."

He smiled contentedly.

Hearing His laughter, Magnus felt a sense of emptiness.

All of this, everything, was planned from beginning to end. He was taken away from Terra, returned to Prospero, learned of Ahzek Ahriman's folly, and witnessed the devastation of the Legion and his homeland—his jailers left him time and again, but never truly went far.

He tossed the key outside the iron gate, a symbol of freedom. But if Magnus dared to reach for it, the jailer lurking in the darkness would surely grab his arm.

Perhaps even my current thoughts are being manipulated by you? Magnus closed his eyes and thought to himself with a self-deprecating smile.

"Who knows?" Tzeentch replied lightly. "All I crave is change, Magnus. Without me, you would face a far more severe and terrible darkness."

"Believe me, if you knew the truth, you would even thank me. You would be surprised at how many times I've let you go. Yes, I could make us win, but there's more than one way to win. I don't like that kind of darkness; it's too boring."

"How sad would a universe be if it were nothing but Vengeance and destruction? I don't like that. I'd love to see the world filled with chaos, destruction, rebirth, and the joys and sorrows of people."

"Countless people rush headlong into the rocks, only to be shattered, all for an impossible goal. How many people have your father's ambitions destroyed? That's why I like him so much."

"He has brought about a transformation in the world, a massive transformation that will last for tens of thousands of years. And I will rejoice for it, so let me give you a hint."

He burst into laughter.

"Do you still remember your psychic powers?" He asked with a smile. "Your psychic powers, your own psychic powers—remember them, Magnus. And then, let me tell you something."

Magnus listened, trembling. He didn't want to do this, but he couldn't escape it, because Tzeentch had already taken control of everything.

"Your father did not abandon you, even as the flash that brought you here tore through part of his crude engineering, engulfed him in Daemon, and exposed him to his only natural enemy, he still did not abandon you."

He sent a deity to find you.

"This deity hasn't ascended to godhood yet, but that's enough. And now he's found me; I've left too many traces, it's hard to avoid being found. I'll probably bleed a lot, will that make you feel any better? Remember to let me know when the time comes."

Tzeentch burst into laughter, his laughter almost piercing through everything.

"But Magnus, remember, you still have psychic powers. You must help your father, do you know why?"

"I"

Magnus gritted his teeth. He wanted to say that he didn't want to know, but in the end, he couldn't overcome his worry for his father's life.

"Because of Drach'nyen."

He answered softly, as if he already knew Magnus's answer.

"It will utterly destroy him, because Karyl Lohars is looking for me; he has left Terra. Your father was all-powerful, yet he could not fight it. That is why, Magnus, your father is going to die."

As the words fell, the flame vanished, the attack ended, and a terrifying black flame disappeared in a flash.

Magnus suddenly opened his eyes.

At this moment, a fierce wind was blowing across Prospero's sky, the gray clouds were completely replaced by darkness, and all light was swallowed up, as if the end of the world had arrived. A faint face suddenly appeared in the sky, formed by countless wronged souls.

Then came the torrential rain, icy cold, which even the Primarch could not withstand; the rainwater was as salty as tears.

Leman Russ Russ stood beside him, expressionless.

"The gods have descended," he whispered. "Do you know why I'm here, Magnus?"

The Crimson King did not answer; rain streamed down his face as if he were weeping.

Update complete. This chapter is 5k words. I'll write a little more and then go to sleep.

Tomorrow I'll give the blue-haired bird a good beating.