"Long time no see, my brother of old, now a traitor and enemy."
This was not Sanguinius's voice!
Malakim and the Lamenters were shocked to their core at this moment. They immediately fixed their gazes upon Sanderis, or more accurately, the being now possessing Sanguinius's body—Sanguinius.
Holy shit, am I seeing my father?
My living father?!
Beside him, Sen'nae, unable to believe his eyes, simply threw a punch at Malakim's face. Only after Malakim returned the blow to Sen'nae's face due to the pain did both realize that standing before them was undoubtedly the spirit of their long-departed father.
Tears instantly flowed from their eyes, and their knees almost involuntarily fell to the ground. They could not suppress their emotions, never having imagined they would encounter their gene-father's spirit on Valentino.
"F-Father? Is it you?"
Seemingly hearing the cries of his progeny,Sanguinius, temporarily using Sanguinius's body, turned his head toward Malakim and the others and smiled faintly. He offered his highest respect to these sons who had maintained their loyalty amidst the boundless darkness of the universe.
These progeny had never seen that ideal era, nor had they glimpsed that future full of light and possibility. From the moment of their birth, they had faced nothing but endless fear and the threat of the warp. Yet despite this, they had still become Astartes through their own will and loyalty, standing bravely against humanity's enemies.
"Maintain your loyalty, stand firm in your position, my children. Countless people still need your help; they continue to struggle in suffering and darkness, and you must extend a helping hand to them with your strength."
"Although I cannot stand beside you now, I beseech you to believe that someday in the future, I will reunite with you in a world filled with light."
The voice and comfort of Saint Gilleus made the Lamenters' tears flow even more violently. Malakim was even sobbing too hard to speak.
How many years had it been? How many ages had they fought for humanity?
They had borne countless hardships and sorrows.
Hearing their father's voice now, they felt that it had all been worthwhile.
The time Sanguinius could borrow Sanguinius's body was extremely limited. He turned to look at the spectral form of his fallen brother. Once-brothers now could only gaze upon each other from afar through special means.
Both seemed to be reminiscing about the past.
But soon, they glared at each other in anger.
"So you're still not completely dead, my brother."
"Does my continued existence pain you? And allow me to be direct—you have no right to call me brother."
Fulgreim's "my brother" was not spoken calmly but was interwoven with endless mockery and confrontation, just as when he would still chant "For the Emperor" while slaughtering human "insects."
Shouting such slogans while massacring humans—this extreme contradiction once fascinated him.
"My brother, do you still plan to return? If I were you, I would rather choose death. Is the human Imperium, now rotten to its foundations, still worth your return?"
When Fulgreim spoke these words, Sanguinius fell silent.
As Fulgreim said, the human Imperium had indeed become corrupt, bloated, and broken. For a Primarch who had seen that ideal era, the current human Imperium was like a decaying corpse waiting for its final breath.
Even Guilliman, upon seeing the current state of the human Imperium, would find it unbelievable and heartbreaking. As the only idealist among their brothers, Guilliman had always dreamed of building the human Imperium into a utopian world.
But now, this was no utopia—it was barely distinguishable from purgatory.
"Do you see, my brother? These people are ignorant and unaware. They don't even know the path we once walked or our goals. Ten thousand years have passed, and they have not an ounce of ambition left."
Fulgreim thought his words had persuaded Sanguinius, so he reclined lazily on his bed, self-satisfied. If his brother was willing to bow his proud head even slightly, he might be willing to let him save a bit of face.
Looking at the now self-degraded Fulgreim, Sanguinius's eyes once again reflected a gaze of sadness.
"Anyone else could criticize humanity's lack of ambition, but not you, Fulgreim."
Sanguinius's words pierced Fulgreim's heart like a thorn, causing him to rip apart the curtains surrounding his bed in that instant. His fierce and maddened eyes, in spectral form, moved right up to Saint Gilleus's face.
"What do you mean? Say that again if you dare!"
"I said anyone else can criticize humanity's lack of ambition, but you alone have no right to do so."
Sanguinius calmly looked at the now barely-human form of his brother. Once upon a time, Fulgreim had also fought for humanity's fate. If speaking of ambition, among the ranks of the Primarchs, Fulgreim had definitely been among the foremost.
His once-brother had made a grand vow—he wished to mold all humans into the most perfect form.
Sunny, rational, ambitious, and striving upward.
He had almost hoped to integrate all positive emotions into the human image. Whether on Chemos or on all the worlds conquered and reclaimed by the Emperor's sons, Fulgreim and his progeny had spread what they believed were the most admirable qualities humans should possess.
But now, those days were gone forever.
Looking at his fallen brother's angry but somewhat intimidated appearance, Sanguinius suddenly laughed. It was a helpless laugh, but mixed with mockery and regret.
Those light chuckles completely shattered Fulgreim's inner defenses. If not for the fact they were separated by the ethereal barrier, he would have seized Sanguinius's skull in a death grip.
The human Imperium had become a rotting corpse, and the loyal Primarchs were either dead or gone.
You, Sanguinius, are merely a remnant soul dwelling in another's body, and yet you dare to mock me, one who chose self-preservation amid chaos and conspiracy and succeeded!
Fulgreim felt hatred and disgust churning within his heart. He had long ago ascended to become a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, which had given him unparalleled physical flexibility and strength, but had also made his emotions unstable.
Memories of the past had been buried deep in a grave within his heart, and what Sanguinius was now trying to do was to dig up these buried memories with the shovel of his words.
"What are you laughing at? I ask you, what are you laughing at?! You and that miserable corpse are nothing but failures! You've died and only your soul remains, while he can only sit dying on that pathetic throne, watching the human Imperium slowly fall into the abyss with his dim and aged eyes!"
Fulgreim's spectral form was even taller than Malakim and the others had imagined. Sanguinius was already tall, but the ascended Fulgreim was more than twice his height.
Dense fog surged with Fulgreim's anger, but the light emanating from Sanguinius and the Hope Blade in his hand prevented the purple mist from approaching them.
"These children don't have power as great as yours or mine, but they still stand strong against the warp. To face a Greater Daemon, they might need to sacrifice half a company or even a whole company to drive it back."
"But even so, these strong children still emit their firefly-like glow in this dark universe. They burn themselves and their souls just to bring a glimmer of hope to others."
"You keep asking me what I'm laughing at?"
"I'll answer you now. I'm pleased by the strength of these progeny. I'm joyful that humanity still has unyielding fighters. And—I'm also sneering at seeing someone like you who has become such a clown."
As the last word fell, Fulgreim's spectral form swung his blade, but Malakim and the others need not have moved to stop him, as the phantom blade merely passed through Sanguinius's body.
He was, after all, only a projection.
"That sword strike of mine should never have fallen on Guilliman! I should have followed Horus onto the Vengeful Spirit and ground you to dust!"
"But you didn't choose to face me then. Instead, you went to Terra to slaughter civilians for your own thrill, didn't you?"
Compared to Fulgreim's enraged breakdown,Sanguinius's calm voice was like a stabilizing stone dropped into Fulgreim's chaotic mind.
But soon, the ripples caused by this stone turned into a tsunami that came surging back.
Even the loyal survivors hiding in the tower could hear the angry shouts coming from the hall below.
"I only went to Terra's surface to kill because Horus ordered me to!"
Fulgreim tried to use words to cover the fear in his heart. The memories buried in his grave had been partially unearthed by Sanguinius. He wanted to purge Sanguinius's words from his mind, but those voices echoed in his brain like maggots that wouldn't let go.
"Stop lying to yourself, Fulgreim. The reason you didn't dare face me then was because you feared being killed by me completely. You know you couldn't defeat me."
"Shut up! I was only trying to strike the Imperium more effectively!"
"Is that so? If what you say is true, then it should have been you facing me on the Vengeful Spirit, not Horus."
Sanguinius words were like throwing ice water on Fulgreim's raging flames. Fulgreim, who had been furiously making excuses for himself, now had his thin veil of shame completely torn away.
Smiling, Sanguinius remained silent, simply staring at his former brother.
Sensing the moment was right,Sanguinius once again slowly spoke the words he had wanted to say all along.
"When you killed Ferrus, did you ever feel regret?"
At the mention of Ferrus's name, Fulgreim's already wide eyes now seemed ready to weep tears of blood.
Ferrus Manus, the Primarch of the Iron Hands, who had once been his—Fulgreim's—good friend.
When he gave himself to the warp, he had tried to persuade this brother to defect alongside him, but Ferrus had refused and prepared to fight.
In the end, Ferrus died by his hand, and the voice of Ferrus, buried deep in that grave, once again echoed in his mind.
"My brother, I beg you, with my life and blood I implore you—come back. The human Imperium still needs you. Daemons are toying with you through lies and deceit. The Phoenix of the Emperor's Court should not become a plaything in others' hands."
He had not heeded Ferrus's plea, but instead had cut off his head.
In the days that followed, he had gradually sunk into melancholy due to the loss of this friend. Only when pursuing extreme sensations during his depravities would he briefly forget that troubling feeling.
But the emptiness that followed each depraved act would overwhelm him like a tsunami. Every time he calmed his mind to rest and sleep, Ferrus's voice, pleading as he lay in his arms, would ring in his ears again and again.
"Shut up! You don't deserve to speak Ferrus's name! He was my dearest friend and brother. Do you know how sad I was when he left me?!"
"Then why did you stand against Ferrus?! Why did you use those hands already stained with sin and blood to cut off his head?!"
Sanguinius's voice now thundered, shattering the glass in Fulgreim's heart. Even today, Fulgreim still couldn't face what he had done.
Was Ferrus truly dead?
Perhaps he was.
But perhaps he wasn't.
Perhaps he was still following his fallen brother along the long road of fate, trying to cleanse his sins with flame and bring him back to his side.
"Sanguinius, I should have torn that mouth of yours apart back then!"
"I'm sorry, but you didn't choose to do so then, and you don't have the chance to do so now."
Fulgreim had curled up like a snake. Only now did Sanguinius see where Fulgreim actually was—beside a massive statue, a statue of Ferrus Manus.
Fulgreim and his bed were resting in the palm of Ferrus's statue.
Hah, how ironic. All along, it was you, Fulgreim, who mocked others, but I never imagined your own dwelling place would be so laughable.
You know how disgraceful your past actions were, but like a child who hasn't grown up, you only choose to avoid and withdraw rather than face the truth.
Even now, you only dare to build a lifeless statue to face your former brother, is that right?
"Precious time should not be wasted talking with someone like you. I would rather speak a few more words with my progeny than see someone like you who no longer resembles a human."
Sanguinius walked step by step toward the emblem projecting Fulgreim's image, then thrust the tip of his Hope Blade into the center of the emblem.
Flames scorched the emblem, releasing waves of purple mist. Sanguinius and Fulgreim stared at each other in final silence until neither could see the other's form.
"Malakim, correct?"
"Yes, Father. Do you have a task for me? I assure you, I will devote all my efforts to complete it."
Realizing that his father, who had been separated from his progeny for ten thousand years, was calling his name, Malakim immediately raised his head, trying to look directly into that radiant light to record the orders his father would give him.
At this moment, even if his father required his life, he would unhesitatingly plunge his blade into his own chest.
Sanguinius walked step by step toward Malakim and gently stroked his hair twice.
These progeny were far stronger than he had imagined. Although his body had lost its life aboard the Vengeful Spirit, he could still observe everything in this universe through his soul.
The Lamenters had experienced too much—betrayal, deception, and moments of sudden repentance and realization.
The Lamenters were almost what he believed the Blood Angels should truly be. They were merciful, they strived upward, they would weep for humanity, and they would burn with rage for humanity as well.
"Calm yourself, my child. I have no tasks to give you. You have already shouldered too much."
"No, Father, we can bear more. It is our duty..."
Malakim wanted to say more, but Saint Gilleus had already placed his finger to his lips.
His gaze moved to the other Lamenters, gesturing for them to come closer.
"As a Primarch of the Imperium, I should be giving you new objectives and orders, but as a father, I don't want you children to bear any more burdens."
"You have never seen that glorious era, yet you are still willing to go through fire and water for a possible future. My fallen brother was right about one thing—today's human Imperium has indeed rotted to its core. Unless there are drastic changes, it awaits only a slow slide into the abyss."
"I implore you, I beg you to continue believing in your not-so-powerful fellow humans. Though mortals' strength may be far from ours, their will is absolutely astonishing."
The radiance emanating from Sanguinius now warmed their bodies. The curse originally inherent in their gene-seed was nowhere to be found in this moment. Malakim, Sen'nae, and the others said nothing, but knelt silently before their father, listening to his teachings.
"Mortals are complex beings. They are diverse—some have noble souls and are willing to give their lives for others, while some are utterly base and willing to poison all living things for their own benefit."
"My children, what I want to tell you is that to love humanity, you must first accept their flaws, and then gradually correct these flaws through action, rather than allowing them to develop unchecked."
"These are the exact words a dead brother of mine once told me. He lost his life in the process of fighting against another fallen self, but he still taught me this principle."
"Now I pass this teaching on to you. You must remember it well, for this is the final teaching the Phoenix of the Emperor's Court has given you."
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