Lorgar felt as though he had had a very long, very long, and incomparably real nightmare.
In the dream, he had watched with his own eyes as his adoptive father, Zhou Beichen, was torn apart from behind by a demon. The gaping hole in his chest and the rapidly dimming look in his eyes had carved themselves into Lorgar's soul like the sharpest blade.
He had felt the despair and fury erupting from the depths of his heart, staining everything black. A silent fire of death had burned within him, reducing all things to ash.
He had seen Magnus, his proud brother, sprawled amid the ruins like a dead dog, battered and bloody as he wept and confessed his monstrous sins...
It had felt too real, so real that the crushing pain in his chest seemed to linger still.
He jolted upright in bed, his forehead covered in cold sweat. He was breathing hard, his heart pounding like a war drum. A trace of lingering terror and violence remained in his violet eyes.
"Lorgar? What happened? Why are you—"
A familiar voice sounded beside him, filled with concern and slight confusion. It was his father, Zhou Beichen, standing by the bed with a frown as he looked at him, clearly sensing something was wrong.
Zhou Beichen did not even get to finish his sentence.
As though confirming something, Lorgar stared fixedly at Zhou Beichen's perfectly intact chest for several seconds. Then, like an out-of-control cannonball, he lunged forward and wrapped Zhou Beichen in a tight, almost overbearing embrace with all his strength!
The force of it made Zhou Beichen's vision go black. He nearly passed out on the spot, and his ribs groaned under the unbearable pressure.
"Cough... cough... S-son... l-let go... I'm... dying..." Zhou Beichen struggled to pat Lorgar's