149. Terra (23)

"I'm going to kill you," he said, then repeated. "I will kill you, from now until the end."

Many have said similar things, but none of them have succeeded. Ambition can vanish in an instant under your sword, and no lie can survive under its edge, but Ferrus Manus was different.

Those who fail do so because they are weak, but your brother Ferrus Manus is different. He can do it. He really can kill you and end it all.

But the problem is, he said he was going to kill you.

That's perfectly reasonable, perfectly in line with the natural course of events. He was supposed to kill you, wasn't he? Don't forget what you've done—ah, yes, yes. I know you'll argue that those things weren't your intention.

But is that really the case?

Think back carefully, my gem. You killed him, you indulged in pleasure. At first you hated yourself, feeling you shouldn't be alive, but soon you began to find pleasure in that pain and guilt.

You begin to sink into a completely new realm, a realm of joy that many others have experienced, but only you entered it so quickly and fell into it so just as fast.

You even start to repeatedly summon his Shadow to relive this extreme self-torture.

No, I didn't lie. I didn't tell you a single lie.

Lies certainly have a place in the halls of pleasure, but I will not tell you lies. For you are a jewel, and I do not wish to let a jewel be tarnished.

So that's how it is. He should kill you, and you willingly wanted to end it all by being killed by him.

Until you see another version of yourself.

How beautiful.

I know that's your first thought. You're stunned by him—you've admired your own face in the mirror countless times, ever since you were just "Fulgrim".

After becoming my jewel, you became even more demanding. However, you know in your heart that you are no match for him. He is someone you can never become again, and for that alone, you are driven mad with jealousy, not to mention anything else.

For example, he remained resolute when wielding his sword; he endured pain and hardship, and though covered in wounds, he never betrayed his cause; he could still stand tall beside Ferrus Manus.

He is far superior to you. You are shocked; you fall in love with him at first sight, just as you fell in love with yourself the first time you saw yourself in the mirror.

Then, you start to feel jealous.

However, jealousy is normal, my love. Love is selfless, but it is also possessive. Ultimately, you are not jealous of him, but of everything he has—everything you once had, but have all lost.

Is your heart filled with bitterness? Do you feel that if you could go back in time, you could correct your mistakes and never repeat them? No, my love, some things only happen once and countless times. You've already tasted pleasure; you know how addictive that feeling can be.

Therefore, even if you went back in time, nothing would change. Your love would only consist of yourself; you saw the mirror for the first time when you were young, and from then on, you only had eyes for Fulgrim.

You love yourself more than anything in the world. Do not argue, though you, who wield the Sword of Wrathful Flame, may argue, but you are unworthy. You beg for Ferrus Manus's forgiveness, but you are only doing it for yourself.

You crave a new kind of pleasure; you Deceit yourself because you sincerely repent.

But stop lying to yourself, Fulgrim.

Your love for him has long since faded away, vanishing the moment he refused to enter the Chaos with you. What you love is merely the lingering illusion of his past, the flawless version of yourself who once stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

And I love this love very, very, very, very, very, very much.

Look here, Fulgrim.

Look—do you see it? Do you see this gem? I've found it for you. This is the memory of the Ferrus Manus you know, the memory of his death, the memory of being killed by you, the memory of his return from the dead, and the memory of being killed by you time and time again.

He hates you, but hatred eventually finds its place. He is an upright man, so if he kills you, kills you completely, then this hatred will end, and he will feel a moment of satisfaction.

That will be my moment.

So, do you like this plan? To turn him into the person you know, to take him away from the person you used to be—do you like that?

If you like this plan, let's begin. We have six minutes left. This is my time, and I will do anything for you in these six minutes if you wish, my love.

In the darkness, a monster with a human body and a snake tail trembled as it picked up a mirror.

The face in the mirror does not belong to Fulgrim; the face in the mirror belongs to a monster, a monster who has long since become an enemy of humanity in his pleasure.

Tears streamed down its face in anguish. It understood that it was no longer worthy to call itself by that name, just as its master had said. It wasn't seeking forgiveness; it simply wanted to experience a new kind of joy.

Even apologizing can be a source of enjoyment; what a despicable and vile thing to do.

But, but.

The snake demon silently shed tears, slowly releasing its four hands and smashing the mirror to pieces.

But I don't feel happy now, Master.

Cupid responded gently.

"I've already said it before, now you are my master. So, make your decision."

--

Countdown: 06:00

The snake demon stood up from the ground.

It was faster than light, its four arms dancing in a straight line. It died, yet it lives on. It had once ripped open its own chest, but now its body is whole.

A deity created this wonder with His inexhaustible desires, and He is using His power recklessly—that is why Ferrus Manus can see the jet-black gem.

It should never have existed; it was merely a possibility that had never occurred until now, until the god Slaanesh personally pulled it from the waves of Chaos. The serpent held it in its four hands and plunged it deep into Gorgon's chest.

There was no obstruction, no resistance, nothing at all.

It was too late, absolutely too late. Time was distorted; the snake demon collapsed at 08:23, but stood up at 06:00.

At this very moment, Fulgrim was still charging forward, Jaghatai was still drawing his gun, and their time had not yet passed—a burst of laughter rang out from the darkness, accompanied by soft footsteps, like feathers rubbing against each other.

"You're welcome," He said politely. "Anyway, there's not much point in saving this time."

Ferrus Manus fell backward, he shouldn't have been so weak, he should have been able to resist—if the gem hadn't been wrapped up in four arms and buried deep in his heart.

Many images and memories began to flood back to him. He didn't know how much time had passed; it felt like a second to him physically, but like ten thousand years in his mental world.

Like water flowing backwards, everything is starting anew. Fighting behemoths, surviving in the wilderness, returning to the Imperium, leading legions, and meeting Fulgrim.

He lay on the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. The serpent murmured contentedly, while Fulgrim roared in the distance. Jaghatai drew his pistol.

He was standing side by side with his best friend on a terrace, gazing at the night sky. His best friend, with a childlike innocence, was pointing to the stars overhead and talking about his dreams.

Everything was still quiet, a gentle breeze blew from the other side of time, and my dear friend's long white hair swayed slightly.

Then everything descended into suffering.

As war raged, the grand ideals inherited from the Emperor crumbled in an instant. He was betrayed, he was killed, and his soul witnessed the collapse of the Imperium, the deaths of his brothers, and the shattering of his legions, straying further and further down the wrong path.

People lost their dignity and eked out a living in a morally bankrupt apocalypse. He had tried his best to fight for more living space for the Imperium and humanity, but he could only watch them sink into darkness little by little.

He heard his father's agonizing screams, and he could hear his father slowly disintegrating in agony, while the murderer shamelessly used his Shadow to amuse himself, sinking deeper into depravity in pleasure.

What pain could compare to this?

No, perhaps there is.

Ferrus Manus opened his eyes.

Under the power of the evil god, the world before him began to shatter. Love, hatred, and betrayal gripped him tightly, tearing him apart. He saw a smiling face, a face full of love—he saw Fulgrim of Chemos.

Boundless hatred began to boil in his chest.

How dare you show your face before me? How dare you smile? How dare you act as if nothing's wrong, as if it were normal? You ruined everything, Fulgrim. You aided and abetted evil, you betrayed us. How many people died for you? How many screamed in agony for you?

He trembled as he lifted the Forgebreaker.

Countdown: 06:00

The sound of feathers scraping against each other grew louder and louder.

"Now is the time," said Fulgrim, who had four arms. "But you must not kill me."

Countdown: 05:59

Countdown: 06:00

Ferrus Manus roared, Forgebreaker was raised high.

"Don't do that," Fulgrim said. "Killing me won't solve anything."

Ferrus Manus swung down the Forgebreaker, but he failed to hit anything.

"There is only one way to truly solve all of this."

Fulgrim reached out a trembling hand, intending to touch Ferrus Manus, but he didn't. He closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face.

There's only one way I can forgive myself.

Cupid contentedly covered the body's heart in the darkness.

"Do what you want, my love," He said, granting a kind of permission.

Time began to collapse, and the power of the gods ruthlessly toyed with it, kneading and shaping it. The endlessly frozen countdown finally began to flow.

Countdown: 05:00

Fulgrim lowered his head, his four arms slowly opening, and black flames of fury ignited beneath his feet.

Darkness still surrounded them, the dangerous battlefield filled with a musky mist and putrid miasma, where rotting corpses and Daemon bared their fangs. Weapons roared from the hovermobiles, Ferrus Manus howled, Jaghatai Khan toward them, and a figure wielding a massive black sword, his face contorted in rage.

All of this was irrelevant to Fulgrim; he only had one thing left to do, and nothing could stop him.

When the gods stripped him of his decadent desires for pleasure and the tide of selfishness, he could finally call himself Fulgrim again. Although this was still under His control and with His permission, does free will truly exist?

It's irrelevant now.

In the heart of hell, the once-fallen phoenix begins to call for Vengeance.

Guess what will happen?