Fulgrim of Chemos had imagined this day, imagined his reunion with Ferrus Manus, but he had never imagined allowing it to truly happen.
Yes, never. No matter what Slaanesh promised him, no matter how It cast illusions to torment his mind, tempting him to make promises within them or rekindle his desires, he had never allowed himself to repeat the same mistake... until this day truly arrived, until Slaanesh truly took him from Its cabinet of treasures and placed him in the mortal world, without shackling him or giving him any purpose.
It had not even looked at him once more.
"Do as you please, my love," It had said at parting, gentle beyond imagination and impossible to comprehend. "But remember one thing: he hates you, yet he cannot kill you. Otherwise... ah, you know the answer. Go on, do as you wish."
It had smiled and departed, leaving Fulgrim alone to face Ferrus Manus and the false hatred he had desperately suppressed for ten thousand years. That hatred came from another timeline, from a world where Ferrus had been personally killed by Fulgrim. There, the galaxy had truly burned for ten thousand years, and humanity had struggled bitterly.
So, when he realized he would inevitably meet Ferrus, Fulgrim's first reaction was to run.
Yes, run. He had to run, and the farther away, the better.
But where could he run to?
The farther he ran, the more clearly he understood something amid the city's ruins: Ferrus Manus would catch up to him sooner or later, and then kill him. He was the kind of man who knew no fatigue, a hunter who could single-handedly slay colossal beasts as a child, born without any understanding of fear or impatience. His patience was unfathomable, his stamina inexhaustible, his will unbreakable.
But