Interlude 126: Dream of a Remembrancer (5k)

My name is Bellros von Sharp, one of the Remembrancers of the Eighth Legion. For many years, I have been walking with Ghost.

For an oddball like myself, this was quite a pleasant affair. However, if we were to trace its origins, it would probably go back to some ordinary Terra night when he found me in the depths of the Hive City and, through the Adeptus Custodes, asked me if I truly intended to leave Terra.

I agree.

I shouldn't have lived so many years after the unification ended. Like those vanished Thunder, I should have died somewhere. But I was, after all, his standard-bearer. From the very first war, I stood behind him.

I have witnessed him fight alongside the Malcador the Sigillite, and I have seen Constantine Valdor lead the Adeptus Custodes to tear our enemies apart. I waved my banner behind the heroes.

Therefore, I always feel that the reason I have lived so long is simply because I have witnessed too many heroes. Their Radiance has influenced me and made me live a long life.

The truth is, I am the one hiding behind the Radiance of heroes. I probably killed less than a tenth of them, yet some painters actually painted me in the center of their works, standing shoulder to shoulder with them, when commemorating them. It's ridiculous.

Getting back to the point, this longevity was incredibly painful for me—in short, after a series of complicated bargaining and a cold snort from the Adeptus Custodes, I immediately began packing my bags, preparing to leave Terra by ship.

I have never left this planet. I was born here, and I will probably die here. But I didn't think that much at the time; I just wanted to hurry up and meet those Ghost.

I arrived in Nostramo without any trouble, and through an introduction, I met Konrad Curze Curze, the Lord of the Blades and the Night Haunter.

To be honest, I was shocked. I think my expression must have been ridiculous, otherwise he wouldn't have laughed so happily after a brief moment of thought.

During the Great Crusade, the Midnight Blade had three expeditionary teams, and I was assigned to one of them. This team was special, but I only learned the reason for its special status some time later.

It had been almost two weeks since I met Karyl Lohars, and I was following Jago Sevatarion, observing the Night Lords' actions. Every detail fascinated me; I had fought for unity, and now I realized they had too.

But the way the Night Lords fought was quite unfamiliar to me. Sometimes, I almost felt that they were deliberately committing massacres and enjoying the bloodshed. To verify this, I deliberately observed everyone's eyes after many battles.

In the eyes of those dead, as black as ink, I found only tranquility.

Then I realized that this was just a means—and a means I couldn't yet comprehend—so I continued to wait. As time passed, I finally witnessed the true purpose of this means.

Deterrence.

Humans are capable of fear, and the Night Lords have gone to great lengths to transform themselves into the embodiment of fear.

They are not proud of it, nor do they crave the dark pleasure of dominating the lives of others. They do it for one purpose only: to cause as few casualties as possible. If they can take over a planet without losing a single soldier, they will even celebrate for a day.

Ah, speaking of celebrations, may Keg rest in peace.

Ironically, isn't it? The most ruthless legion was actually one of the most Mercy among the Astartes. (-_-) (-_-) Of course, my statement may be biased, since I've been traveling with them all along.

I have published many books, most of which are about Jago Sevatarion. I am not deliberately promoting an idol who only exists in words, creating a false legend.

Jago Sevatarion is one of the heroes, I'm convinced of that, and I have evidence, though it can't be presented.

At first, I published those books about him simply for fun, but later I also started to write about things that really mattered to me, such as my observations of Konrad Curze Curze and my understanding of Karyl Lohars.

I've saved these manuscripts, and I'll save this one too once I finish it. Right now, I'm sitting in an underground shelter in Nostramo, writing these words in my notebook.

I knew in my heart that these manuscripts would never be published, but I still wanted to write them, and I wanted to write them in a narrative style.

After all, I am a Remembrancers; it is my duty. Although I have done a terrible job, and what I write is almost entirely disorganized, literary critics have even said that I know nothing about writing. It has neither structure nor subject, and is like a dream.

I admit it, and I agree with what they said; otherwise, why would I have spent money on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses when I left Terra? I wanted to at least look like Remembrancers.

But

My God, whoever you are, if you're reading this manuscript, I hope you know one thing.

I had a dream last night.

I can't forget it, but I can't tell anyone. It was too horrible.

I dreamt of a blue Radiance screaming in the dark, starless expanse of space, its voice filled with agony. A ball of black flame followed closely behind, gnawing at it in the deathly silence of the universe.

Blood-blue starlight spread across the pitch-black curtain like shattered gems, but upon closer inspection, you'd find these so-called gems to be utterly hideous—bloodsucking worms or venomous insects that bite, their eyes filled with greed.

They existed for only a moment before vanishing, completely reduced to ashes by the flames, but I'm certain they saw me.

At the same time, the screams of the blue starlight grew increasingly intense. I can't even describe the sound; if I had to, it would be like the noise of hundreds of Stormbird flying overhead at the same time.

It can make you wonder if you have a perforated eardrum. Only when it completely dissipates, and you and the people around you greet each other pale-faced, will you know if you still have hearing.

But I don't have a pale-faced friend to greet me.

Last night, I woke up for the first time at 1:23 a. m. in Standard Terra. My bed was completely soaked, and then I looked at my hands.

Do you know what I saw, dear reader?

I saw my bones and blood vessels, vividly visible beneath my almost completely transparent skin. I unbuttoned my clothes and looked at my body; it was the same.

A sudden premonition rose from the bottom of my heart. I didn't know where it came from. It said a lot, but I only understood one sentence.

It said, "My time is near."

I don't understand what this means. Perhaps it's a death omen? I have no answer, and I don't now. I heard those words, and then I fainted again, seeing that blue Radiance and black flames once more.

This time I realized something, because those black flames were all too familiar to me. ✊💚 ඏ☆ Anyone who has seen them once will never forget them.

But what exactly was this scene that appeared in my dream?

I had a question, and then I immediately got an answer.

A person—no, no, something—appeared before my eyes.

It wasn't an illusion; it was something that truly existed. It heard my voice from the other side of the universe, so it came into my mind and spoke to me in my dreams.

It was covered in blood, yet it was still smiling.

"This is your god slaughtering me, Bellros von Sharp. Nice to meet you."

It greeted me warmly, yet I felt a chill run through me—I had never believed in any god in my life, and what was it anyway?

"I'm afraid I can't tell you the answer to that question; you'd go crazy," it replied thoughtfully, as if it knew what I was thinking.

I looked at its face, and the ever-changing ball of light slowly transformed into the face of a recruitment poster I had seen before—an officer from the Departmento Munitorum.

He struck a heroic pose on the poster, inviting the people of the Imperium to join the Auxilia. And this thing transformed into his likeness, striking the same pose.

The recruiting officer smiled broadly at me.

"I've chosen a persona you can accept to speak with you, Remembrancers."

He rubbed his hands together; his white gloves were soaked with blood. Blood was flowing from his seven orifices, and fragments of starlight were constantly gushing from his throat.

"I apologize for the unauthorized visit, but I need to borrow your brain to avoid him. I've shot myself in the foot, you understand? This little world you live in—"

→

He squinted, and seemingly pleased, he opened his blood-red maw. I saw his withered, yellow teeth tremble slightly like saw teeth. He stretched out his right hand and made a gesture, his posture so pitiful.

"--Being engulfed by a Chaos storm." He chuckled. "That's a good thing, it allows me to briefly bypass the Veil, but so can he."

He spat out a mouthful of blood and nonchalantly wiped his mouth. I saw his flesh trembling. I stared at his face, and fragments of conversation from the past, along with some stories he had told us by the fire, surfaced in my mind at that moment.

I think it must be an evil spirit, and an ancient one at that. It must have been devouring flesh and blood, craving life, for a very long time.

"You guessed right." He coughed approvingly. "I am indeed very ancient, and I am indeed an evil spirit—oh, that really hurts, he's caught up with me."

He knelt on the ground, weakly clutching his neck. The clothes on his back began to swell, and a tattered crown tore through his clothes and flesh, revealing a bloody mess.

It looked like it was made of minerals or thorns, and its surface emitted a dark red light. Then, a pale, bony hand suddenly emerged from the gaping wound in the recruiter's body.

The hand gripped the edge of his body, and amidst his screams, began to slowly pull its master away. It was so terrifying; I thought I was going to see a monster, but instead, I saw someone familiar.

"Of course you know him! You idiot!"

The recruiter laughed at me with disdain. He was screaming in agony, yet he could still laugh wildly; I truly couldn't understand how he did it. But I no longer cared to speculate, because I saw Karyl Lohars.

Wearing a mask of bones, surrounded by vengeful spirits, and with dark mist spreading from his blood-soaked feet, he created a horrifying scene of slaughter in my dream.

He looked at me and sighed slowly.

"Stand back a bit," he said, with a hint of warning. "Don't let yourself get infected by these nightmares, Bellros."

"Don't listen to him, come here, Remembrancers! Don't let him tell you what to do! People need free will, free will, do you understand?!"

The conscription officer, his skin torn and bleeding, lay on the ground yelling at me; flesh had already fallen off his face.

For some reason, I felt he was very weak; wasn't his inability to maintain a human form the best proof?

This gave me courage, and I spat at him—of course, standing behind Instructor Karyl, as always.

Ah, I wish I had a flag in my hand back then.

"Oh, you courageous mortal!"

The recruiter burst into another ear-piercing laugh, his flesh melting away in my saliva, exposing his bones. He was still calling out, still trying to persuade me.

"Come and witness this battle of the gods, Bellros! You won't regret it; this slaughter show is absolutely worth the ticket price! We're inside your brain, and we'll fight in ways you can understand, so you'll see me dismembered, slaughtered! You'll see all the most heinous punishments in human history!"

His words were truly infuriating, but Instructor Karyl seemed unmoved. I saw him step on the recruiter's head and then stop moving.

For at least several minutes, he remained silent, staring into a certain spot through the empty eye sockets of his skull mask. I followed his gaze, but there was nothing there, just pure emptiness.

After a long while, he finally lowered his head and spoke to the thing. His voice sent chills down my spine; I almost didn't recognize him as the "instructor" I knew.

"What are you going to do to Nostramo?" I heard Instructor Karyl ask.

"Doing nothing, my old friend whom I rarely see."

He answered weakly, but the laughter in his voice was still clear.

"You should ask yourself what you did to it. You chased me relentlessly through the galaxy, but did you ever consider why I didn't just escape back behind the Veil? Your power has already spread; you will reap what you sow."

Instructor Karyl seemed to smile beneath his mask. He waved his arm, and vengeful spirits surged from the void, beginning to gnaw at the recruiter's flesh. He screamed in agony like never before—I didn't understand why he was in so much pain until I remembered his words.

They are in my mind, acting out this struggle in a way that I can understand.

So, if I want to see the truth, what will I see?

The thought had barely appeared when it began to take root in my mind, and my body involuntarily took a step forward.

I woke up immediately. Instructor Karyl glanced at me but didn't say anything. The thing at his feet laughed again, deliberately putting on a pitiful look.

"Let me go, huh? Old friend? You can't kill me. Continuing to torture me and make me bleed is just a waste of time. Go back to Terra quickly, or you might face annihilation if it gets too late."

"Then I'll set the entire galaxy ablaze," Instructor Karyl said. "If humanity's future is utterly extinguished, what will be left for anything else to live on? I will fight until the galaxy is empty, and then beyond the galaxy."

"Oh, stop with the act. You wouldn't do that. I didn't touch your anchor point."

"Would you like to make a bet?" Instructor Karyl asked softly.

Over the years, I've grown accustomed to the Night Lords whispering amongst themselves, exchanging sarcasm and curses. But I've rarely heard this tone, not even during those horrific eighteen years; I've never seen him speak to anyone like that.

I was stunned, and the thing dressed as a conscription officer seemed to be the same.

"I know what you're trying to do. You want to use yourself to hold me back so your plan can succeed, shatter Nostramo, and utterly destroy the Eighth Legion. But I don't like this kind of thing."

He laughed again, this time very clearly; even I could hear the ruthlessness in his laughter.

So you only have one choice. Now, choose.

A ball of burning black flame began to appear beneath his feet, scattering ash and rising upside down. I stared at the flame, unable to comprehend anything at that moment, but I still firmly remembered everything I saw, including the things that appeared within the flame.

I saw Terra burning with absolute certainty. Then, I heard the recruiter's voice again, but this time, his voice had changed.

It became low and deep, like an echo from ancient times. I looked at him and saw a mirror. The person in the mirror had no face, like a mannequin or a model, but he could breathe, exhaling wisps of white mist that seemed to come from nowhere.

"You won't do that," I heard the dummy say with certainty.

But Instructor Karyl's skeleton, half of which had already dissipated in the flames, remained unmoved. His voice was calm and still, deathly silent and cold.

"You are welcome to try, want to take a gamble? You can see the past or the future, you can extend countless threads from the present and observe the course of things, so try to read my heart, great Tzeentch."

"You can't give up on this tiny bit of hope!" the mannequin in the mirror roared.

"You're just as foolish an idealist as him. You should abandon Terra and go back to Nostramo. You should descend upon your homeland and tear this world to pieces with your own hands! Do as I plan, you foolish god!"

"Stop pretending," the skeleton said calmly. "You're not angry, you're just faking it, trying to make me think I'm in control. Choose, Tzeentch, while you still can."

I don't know how long this stalemate lasted, because my thoughts were in disarray—in my memory, I felt they talked for much longer and revealed more, but that's all I can recall.

Oh, right, there's one last scene.

I saw the mirror shatter, the mannequin kneeling on the ground, tearing open its chest with its hands, pulling out a large ball of starlight, and crushing it in front of us.

He vanished, and the howling wind as he left is something I will never forget.

I know this is a victory; I have once again witnessed a victory brought about by heroes.

Then I woke up and saw fire rain falling outside the window.

This is war. Someone started a war against Nostramo five hours ago, but I know we will win.

We will definitely win.

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