PS: This is a medium-length chapter of 5,000 Chinese characters!
A gray sea surrounded a gray island, and gray storms churned within a gray veil.
All was gray. The Primarch was dead.
Aaron slowly walked up to Dorn and looked up at the dead Primarch.
Dorn's four-meter-tall body had turned entirely to stone, yet his resolute eyes, which had never once let down their guard, remained open. Golden light spilled from them, scattering continuously around him.
Sorrowful, majestic, poignant, unyielding.
Aaron found it difficult to describe Dorn's condition in words. Half the Primarch's stone statue had already shattered. His left arm had broken apart during petrification, from his hand all the way up his arm. The cracks extended to his left shoulder, the fractures nearing his chest.
His right arm was slightly better, but it was still riddled with cracks.
Half his face had shattered, too.
"He's dead?" Eleanor spoke first, but Miss Cleric quickly rejected her own conclusion. "No, Aaron, look!"
Eleanor pointed beneath the fractures in Dorn's stone surface. A few golden threads and glimmers of light still flickered there.
Aaron nodded. A jumble of emotions filled his heart, and he did not know what to say.
Physiologically speaking, Dorn was undoubtedly dead. His flesh had died, he no longer possessed any bodily functions, and all his organs had petrified and were on the verge of shattering.
Dorn was truly dead.
Yet from the perspective of a Warp entity, Dorn still lived.
His soul stubbornly clung to his flesh, refusing to leave. His will still protected the Realms against the incursions of the Chaos Gods.
The surrounding Sea of Chaos was proof.
Chaos was inherently colorful and ever-changing. This should have been a vibrant, chaotic place teeming with life. Dorn had suppressed the power of Chaos with his