Knowing One's Ignorance

"The only thing I know is... I know nothing."

Guilliman's calm voice, like a voice-over, interspersed throughout this painful revolving lantern festival.

"These are the words of a scholar named Socrates from Old Terra."

It tells us that recognizing our own ignorance is the beginning of wisdom.

Magnus had long since stopped roaring and struggling.

His arms hung limply at his sides, as soft as two noodles with their bones removed.

The enormous demonic body was lifted by Guilliman with one hand, appearing extremely weak and pathetic, completely at his mercy.

The light in his one eye gradually shifted from anger and pain to emptiness and bewilderment.

"Are you beginning to realize your own ignorance, Magnus?"

Guilliman pressed on calmly, as if waiting for an answer he already knew.

There was no response.

Only heavy breathing and the silent clamor of images flashing deep within my consciousness.

Guilliman seemed to have gotten the response he wanted.

He let go of her hand.

Magnus crashed into the void like a lump of mud, curled up, his broken spine and severely damaged head making it difficult for him to even maintain a basic form.

He seemed to be completely immersed in that forced "life review," unable to extricate himself.

Guilliman stopped looking at him.

He straightened up and drew the Emperor's Sword from his waist.

"Buzz--"

Golden flames instantly enveloped the sword, pure and intense, creating a stark contrast with the dim Psionic Energy flames surrounding Magnus.

The light dispelled some of the surrounding Chaos and gloom, and also illuminated Guilliman's cold, stone-carved face.

His expression barely changed, as if all he had to do next was deal with a useless tool.

"It's just Golden Throne."

He muttered to himself, as if trying to convince himself, or stating a cold, hard fact, "There are... many more options."

His gaze seemed to drift deeper into the Warp, where the domains of other rebellious Primarch lurked.

"Lorgar, Mortarion..."

Fulgrim, Perturabo, even Angron...

"Any one will do."

There was no hatred in his voice, only a calmness that bordered on engineering. "Just arrest them and pin them to the throne."

It's simply a matter of... compatibility.

He raised the burning Emperor's Sword, its blade aimed at Magnus lay motionless on the ground.

"It seems my hands are destined to be stained with the blood of more of my brothers."

Guilliman glanced at Magnus one last time, a complex and indescribable emotion flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by absolute rationality.

"This is perhaps... an unavoidable tragedy."

As soon as the words were spoken, the sword flashed and slashed!

Golden flames ripped through the eerie colors of the Warp, carrying the will of ending and purification, aimed straight for Magnus's neck!

"No--!!!"

It was not Magnus's scream, but a piercing roar from the deepest and most unpredictable part of the Warp, a roar sharp enough to pierce the soul!

At the core of the Lord of Change's domain— Tzeentch's Maze —an unprecedented and terrifying Psychic Shockwave erupted!

That force twisted the threads of time and causality.

Ignoring some spatial barriers, it transformed into a pure, dark blue torrent of knowledge, endless trickery, and possessiveness, rushing straight towards Magnus's location!

"My little horse! My little horse!"

The shriek contained unimaginable anger and anxiety. "This is the only high-grade figure I have left!"

You can't--!"

Almost at the same instant Tzeentch made his move, on the other side of the Warp, that black sun...

The embodiment of the Emperor of Mankind's will, a mixture of despair, end, and a sliver of hope, also roared!

Golden Psionic Energy attempted to halt the azure torrent, protecting His offspring as they completed the necessary "purification" or "recycling."

However--

Khorne's roar transformed into a blood-red phantom of a battle axe, slashing down!

Slaanesh's sighs transformed into pinkish-purple chains of pleasure that bound him!

The Whisper of Nurgle poured forth, and a dark green, decaying miasma filled the air!

Despite their differing motives and even gloating, the three Chaos Gods gods reached a rare and brief consensus at this moment: this is the bottom line!

Corrupted Primarch were one of their most important "assets" and "spoils of war".

Even the "Cursed One" cannot so easily, right before their eyes, seize or destroy the core pieces of an existence of the same level!

This concerns their fundamental rules and reputation in the war of war in the Warp!

The golden light collided violently with the three Chaos forces, unleashing a silent yet powerful impact that shook the entire Warp!

The Black Sun roared with overwhelming fury, but ultimately, the golden interception failed to be completely effective due to the temporary combined obstruction of three against one.

Tzeentch's frantic, dark blue torrent, though weakened by more than half, still retained a trace of its core power, managing to strike before the Emperor's Sword could strike down.

It touched upon Magnus's chaotic consciousness.

Boom!

The Emperor's Sword struck empty air, or rather, struck a suddenly appearing, extremely unstable, dark blue shield composed of countless fragments of shattered knowledge, lies, truths, and future possibilities.

The shield was instantly covered in cracks, but it bought Magnus... a fleeting moment.

The roar of the Black Sun gradually subsided, leaving only a cold and heavy rage.

Perhaps, as some grander will has judged: now is not the time for a complete showdown.

Magnus's mind was in complete chaos.

The scenes from the first and second halves of his life continue to intertwine and collide, and Guilliman's words of "knowing his own ignorance" echo like a curse.

He had just finished watching his own life, full of mistakes and regrets, from the perspective of an almost omniscient (yet powerless) bystander.

The saying "ignorance is the beginning of wisdom" sounds so ironic now, and yet... it contains a cruel truth.

When you have nothing left, when all your pride, knowledge, and achievements are crushed, when you are forced to admit that what you've always "knew" was nothing more than a greater level of "ignorance"...

Does this mean you can truly start over?

But he was still undecided.

He betrayed his country for ten thousand years, served Tzeentch for ten thousand years, and hatred and obsession had long become a part of his being, as natural as breathing.

The power of habit is sometimes stronger than that of nature.

Give up everything and go back?

That would mean admitting that he had been wrong for the past ten thousand years, and it would mean kneeling before the Imperium he once regarded as a traitor.

Is this harder to accept than death?

As Magnus watched the burning golden sword fall, a strange sense of relief rose within him.

Perhaps, this kind of ending isn't so bad.

All the mistakes, pain, and struggles vanished with that one sword strike...

Then, Tzeentch's roar and power descended.

That familiar, alluring, and deceptive azure Psionic Energy enveloped his fragmented consciousness.

But this time, it was filled primarily with anxious protection and a strong possessiveness born of something lost and then regained.

Just then, the power of the old master attempted to drag him back to the familiar abyss of Chaos.