(Note that this article is written in the first person)
"… "
"Dead?"
The ground was littered with broken bricks and tiles. The huge sage walked slowly forward, holding up his red robe, and passed by one corpse after another.
Next to him, a female sage with a smile on her lips was walking on metal high heels, looking at the battlefield curiously.
The final encirclement and suppression has ended, with the Bone Crusher's army being annihilated.
"Dead."
Jin said calmly, his monitor showing Yarick standing in front of them and the greenskin corpse lying on the ground.
The old political commissar was standing there, his back looking majestic.
The blood that had flowed all over the ground had long since dried up.
"They are all dead."
"Why did you let him go? We could have just killed Bonecrusher."
"Arik is too old."
“There’s not a lot of residual value,” King said.
Sage Belinda raised her eyes and looked at the two bodies in front of her again.
"Booze will blame you,"
She said,
"The greenskins in the Octares star field have not been completely eliminated. The army needs people who understand the greenskins."
"He doesn't dare."
Jin stepped forward, cleaned up the battlefield, collected scientific research materials, and collected the bodies.
Belinda followed along, helping Kim finish the work as quickly as possible.
The two bodies present are both priority D2 and should be dealt with by the Sage himself.
"I know, you're just soft-hearted again."
Belinda smiled and said, "There are many ways to prolong your life."
"Show some respect to the dead, little one."
Kim extended one of his appendages and struck Belinda on the head.
Jin used his limbs to support the corpse and died in a decisive battle with his old enemy. There is no more free and easy death than this.
It's better than being caught up by time.
Yarick finally outran the erosion of time and died heroically with his steadfast self.
Jin knew this was a blessing.
The longer you live, the more confused you will be. This is why Kirkland chose asceticism. Asceticism of the flesh and blood can reduce the backward outlook of the mind and allow the senses to focus on the present.
Jin couldn't and didn't want to do that.
He has his own way of fighting the wear and tear of time.
Yarick was lucky. He did not have to face the wear and tear of time and died gloriously in the battle. Kirkland was lucky. He was crazy enough to avoid the erosion of time. Gold-306 was lucky. Through updates, memory overwriting and personality reset, he is still Gold-306.
But there are always people who are not so lucky.
————
[past]
I finally understood what helplessness meant.
This is a kind of suffering, far more deadly and more unbearable than momentary madness.
It eats away at me, every moment, gnawing at my flesh, my mind, my soul like a maggot on the tarsal bone.
oh,
I have long since lost all my flesh and blood.
I seemed to understand why Conrad Curze appeared in the mess on the Spirit of Vengeance with a big laugh and chose to die generously - he was just avoiding more severe torture, and straightforward madness was a much easier choice than torture that would last for a thousand years.
Thinking about this, I somewhat regretted standing in front of so many "brothers" and defending Sevatar's gang.
At least those bastards are living a dreamy happy life after cooperating with the Inquisition and being led by Corax.
And I kept moving forward.
Sometimes I realize that I walk simply because I refuse to stop, just as I live because I refuse to die—
I just relied on inertia and chose the less bad option between two bad options.
But the fact is, no matter which one, reality is terrible.
I am dying.
The empire is dying.
I once watched coldly as those "brothers" led by Sanguinius and Guilliman enthusiastically supported the empire - I didn't want to help them at first, I had more important goals at that time.
Besides, I'm not good at politics.
I am only good at sowing seeds.
Sowing seedlings, sowing death.
But later, when I realized my limitations and tried to help Guilliman and the others again, I became ill myself.
The illness is very serious and terminal.
The cause of the disease is myself.
I knew this, but for some reason I had ignored it before.
After the great disaster, I went to the Golden Throne alone, dragging my broken wings, my skin constantly oozing with mist, and my body becoming thinner and thinner.
I opened my eyes, which were gradually becoming distorted, and looked at the being on the throne, my nominal father.
[What am I? What is the Primarch? ]
He didn't answer me.
So, standing under the golden throne, I scolded him for a full hour, calling him hypocritical, cowardly, a habitual liar, and a double-dealer.
My memory of that time has become hazy, but I vaguely remember that I cursed very badly and was very angry. I am sure I vacated a few times due to my excitement.
Well... I couldn't control my wings very well at that time.
And myself.
I beat the imperial guards who came forward to stop me and cursed my biological father. Finally, the imperial guards stopped coming forward and the hourglass reached the end, so I left there.
That night, under the light of the Astronomican, I caught a glimpse of the truth.
That was the answer from the Lord of mankind to me.
But I wasn't in a good mood.
I hate my [father].
I hate all those who are self-righteous and take it for granted that they are superior to others, and treat other people's lives as their own entertainment or as chips to exchange for interest.
I hate Nakre, the ugly alien who arbitrarily decided my fate and shaped me into its scythe when I was unable to resist.
I hate the corrupt sky. I am nothing more than an exquisite chess piece in the eyes of Chaos, as if I were carved deliberately for Him.
But I hate the emperor most.
I hate the Lord of Mankind.
He created me.
For his great expedition.
It's that simple.
But I was in extreme pain.
Since my essence is a creature of the Warp, why did he forcibly snatch me from the Sea of Chaos, and then forcibly give me bones, flesh, human eyes, and human ears, so that I can see and hear the tragedies in the world, make me hate the Warp, make me twisted, and make me—
Hate myself.
I am a warp psychic alien.
I started to lose my breath.
I am not me, I am me, I am Mortarion, I am not Mortarion... I am not human...
I am a human being, but I look inhuman.
What pains me most is the realization that I can prove myself incapable of rebelling against the Emperor, that he is right, and that his only fault is having given us thought.
Pain will make the soul want to be free and slide into a more dangerous abyss, but I braked in time. I didn’t want to be entangled in this problem anymore. Staying there would only make me more painful.
Although I really wanted to continue scolding the Lord of Humanity—even better, scold him to death—I put it all aside, all of it. I stayed away from places that made me unhappy and concentrated on managing the Storm Star Domain.
I wrapped myself in thick fog to cover my figure, and concealed my screaming voice under cold words. After everything was over, after the enemy disappeared again, I had to face my increasingly inhuman self again and again.
Sometimes I envy my brothers, who still look like they’re in great shape.
Still looks like a human.
The good news is that my warriors, my people are resilient enough, and I am resilient enough.
That long period of time will eventually dilute my sadness and resentment.
I devote myself to my construction, and I still remember my original intention. I will fight chaos to the death, sweep away all tyranny from the head of mankind, and sow a peaceful wheat field.
Amidst countless deaths and rebirths, and amidst countless human expectations, wishes, and love for me, I gradually accepted my reality.
Slowly walking out of the nightmare called "Father".
At least I still consider myself a human being, at least I still cannot give up being human.
Later, I could pat Karas playfully when his eyes accidentally glanced at my wings.
Unfortunately, Callas is not as understanding as Hades and cannot understand my sense of humor.
I continued to move forward.
I wandered through the vast Milky Way, building, learning,
I have only two goals. One is to find and wake up my former comrades. I have already thought of what to say when the time comes.
Welcome him from the rule of one alien to the rule of another.
Even more unfortunately, this alien also knows numerology.
The other is to wipe out Chaos. There is no need to say more about this. I will not miss any opportunity to disgust Chaos, just like they disgusted me back then.
But during my journey, I gradually gave up the plan to find Hades in the short term. I found that the Necrons are an extremely complex race - this involves both physics and the warp, the Star Gods...
The scene of talking with the alien Tarazin is still vivid in my mind.
I realized that I must master greater power before I can try to lure out those cunning aliens in the name of [Resurrection].
So I put the idea aside for now.
I began to concentrate on exploring the subspace. The huge number of human deaths gave me strength and new eyes. Under my conscious guidance, I began to become stronger, stronger, and stronger...
My goal is to corrupt the sky.
I will kill Him, make Him annihilate, and let Chaos know that they are not omniscient and omnipotent.
I will seize His power, I will control life and death, and I will be the god of death who decides whether souls live or die.
but…
I am sick.
I was bitten back by the power that authority brought.
I lost control.
…
…
…
There's nothing to say.
I only remember that when I regained consciousness, the enhanced black bullet that exploded in front of me made me so sick.
But what really makes me desperate is myself.
I haven't looked in the mirror much since Tyra went back.
I saw a bug that looked like it was carved out of bones.
In my pursuit of power, I became more hideous. I even suspected that I was the originator of the Barbarus alien, or even a being in the realm of corruption.
But this time I didn’t even have the mood to denounce the Lord of Mankind.
I only felt despair, helplessness, and that long, endless despair.
I am sure that at some point I contemplated exiling myself directly back into the Ocean of Chaos, scattering myself, never to reappear.
I might as well have died fighting Horus then.
But I know all this is impossible, so I keep walking, I am the tenacious one.
Just go.
I realized that faith would backfire on the creatures of the Warp, and after failing to find a suitable method, I cut off my power and threw it at Hades.
That was a painful memory.
Although I had seen Hades chewing on a bowl countless times, I never realized that he had such bad breath. I finally learned to resonate with Callas. Poor Callas, poor me.
My instinct was to escape subconsciously, but I forced myself to come back under the persuasion of reason.
At the beginning, I was in a daze for a long time, fighting against the backlash of the subspace, fighting against my own desires, and fighting against myself.
Slowly, my will and reason began to regain control of my soul, my essence,
I let my essence realize that it is the consciousness [me] imposed by the fucking Emperor that is the dominant force behind this body, this subspace creature, this damn skeleton bug, its true master.
I am Mortarion, I am human - I am nothing, but I know what I am to do and where I am going.
I regained control of myself, but when I opened my eyes again and looked out upon the human empire, I realized that I was not the only one surrounded by faith.
No, not just me, alone.
And the Lord of Mankind, and Sanguinius.
When I emerged from the swamp of madness, I saw clearly what Sanguinius had done.
As one of his kind, I know very well that it is... the instinct of the warp.
The instincts of the Warp will drive you, slowly distorting your vision, and your vision will eventually come true, but by then it will have already been distorted.
In daily actions, we are also unconsciously affected, but it is so subtle that we cannot even notice it...
I silently looked at the national religion brochure in my hand, which had been crumpled up by my subconscious grasp.
Sanguinius has been prayed to for far longer than I have, and has far more followers and a purer faith.
And the Lord of Mankind is even better than Sanguinius...
…
… Almost subconsciously, I didn’t dare to think about it any further.
I realized that I had a Cyclone torpedo in front of me, ready to explode.
Once it explodes, everything will be gone.
But I forced myself to keep thinking.
… After that, I chose a treatment for them similar to the one I had.
Still Hades.
Maybe I should call him Pluto, after all he has helped me so much... I should thank him.
I also have concerns about whether this will harm Hades, but ultimately, based on my understanding of the Necrons, I think the Necrons have a way to deal with it.
… Hope he’s okay.
Once again, I rebuked myself for my indifference and exploitation of my former comrades, but there was nothing I could do. In front of me was a huge fire that was about to burst into flames, and I only had a basin of liquid at hand.
Or the blood shed by my dear friend.
Maybe it was the saliva, I comforted myself like this... But I still feel guilty...
Bringing the basin of water, I rushed over to put out the fire.
I move forward again.
…
... Sanguinius could not escape the fate of being backfired...
…
(End of this chapter)