"Pain is an illusion of the senses, fear is an illusion of the mind, and beyond that, only death awaits all like a silent judge." - Mortarion.
Silence is walking in the dim corridor.
It shuttles back and forth, it lowers its eyes, it looks at each soul, it brushes past each sculpture.
No one spoke, no one spoke, no one moved.
The heavy armor hit the ground, like a fallen soul, begging for the hand of the superior.
Desperation, panic, begging, shouting, but nothing worked.
They cannot raise their weapons, they cannot roar their anger at the enemy. The absurd future has arrived. What else can they do except decay and bow their heads
The people of Barbarus are shrouded in a poisonous fog that lingers all year round, and the lord on the top of the mountain plays with all the slaves.
The eternal plague erodes the people of Barbarus, and the Supreme Father pampers all his toys.
He walked down from the mountain shrouded in poisonous fog, full of anger and with nothing left.
He walked away from the plague-filled pile of corpses, gnawing at his body with fear, and left alone.
“Stand up!”
He raised the banner calling for resistance.
"I'm tired."
He gave up the hope he had been holding on to.
He led the Barbarus people to overthrow all injustice and unfairness!
He took the Barbarus and fell into the arms of chaos and mercy.
Father, father, father, if even you succumb, where should we go
Who would take in skinny farmers like us
We are covered in mud, we are filthy.
Who will truly keep a place for us in their hearts
We are fearful and cowardly, and we are willing to be slaves.
Please don't abandon us, please don't abandon us!
Father, if you insist on falling, please take us with you.
Please take us with you. This is the last thing we can do for you.
They looked up and saw their father looking at them.
The deep corridor stretched infinitely into the distance, swallowing up everything and gradually disappearing into darkness.
"My son,
The tall figure of the Primarch stood there, the hood covering his eyes was taken off, he looked at everyone, tired, but still standing.
Mortarion took a deep breath, and when his respirator beeped seven times, he reached up, lowered his head, and removed his disguise.
Dry cracks covered the corners of Mortarion's mouth, a reward for breathing the poison gas.
He spoke.
"I once had nothing,"
We once had nothing.
"There is nothing. I have nothing in my hands, looking at the world with fear and expectation."
We also expected this world.
"In the beginning, the world of Barbarus was not a good one."
In the beginning, Barbarus was our prison,
“But I met you.”
But we met you,
"The young child who looked at me with curiosity, the old woman who closed her eyes to avoid me, the fellow warriors who offered me a helping hand, and the warriors who followed me closely."
The pale king came down from the mountain, with raging fire in his eyes.
"We have never surrendered, but until we can change this, we can only endure the pain inflicted on us in silence."
Mortarion looked at his son, his eyes lowered, looking down from above,
"The outside world is not beautiful, and we are not beautiful either. We are dirty and we are busy all day long."
"But the spark of resistance is still buried deep in everyone's heart."
"I am glad that you have given me such a gift, a heart of resistance."
We can give you nothing but a crown woven of weeds and thorns.
"Meeting you also made me realize that I was born for human beings."
“I was born to rebel.”
He paused, and the Primarch's tall body half-knelt, looking at his kneeling offspring seriously, like a father carefully comforting his child.
At the forefront of the Death Guard was the Child of Diderot's Hill, Carewyn, whom Mortarion remembered as having stood before his brother's grave, silently cradling his scythe.
How could he not be moved by these people who swore to follow him until death, these people who had nothing but still gave Mortarion their last bit of food
They gave themselves to him.
He will grant them His mercy.
You will not fall into the endless night, I swear.
Even if the final outcome is fire.
Mortarion blinked slowly.
"We have all seen it, the rot that goes by the name of the future."
"The plague, the never-ending cycle torments each and every one of us."
"You saw me kneel down, I surrendered."
“Yes, in that lightless future, I knelt.”
"I betrayed our original vows and I betrayed your trust in me."
The Primarch's words were like a weak breeze, blowing past everyone's ears, but shaking the bodies of the toughest warriors.
“I don’t argue with that.”
"But please give me a chance to make my request,"
They knelt, they stood, they accepted silently.
Mortarion stared at them with his piercing amber eyes.
"If I betray, if I surrender, each of you will have the responsibility to kill me."
[If I am corrupted, please kill me.]
"Give me the mercy of death."
!!!
Suffocation, complete suffocation, even the slightest breathing sound has stopped.
Hades stood behind Mortarion, his pupils narrowed, looking at the Primarch who was half-kneeling on the ground in disbelief.
Mortarion raised his head and stared at the end of the corridor, where the old soldiers were standing silently but already stunned by the shock.
Defense, anger, resistance, this was the roar that emanated from their souls when Mortarion fell into delusion.
Although they are not like the Barbarus who are willing to follow until death, they possess a more lonely tenacity.
"Please protect the purity of the Legion."
Mortarion stared at the warriors who were still standing and spoke the words slowly.
Then the Primarch stood up.
"Please stand up, my warriors."
"Only by standing up can we grasp our scythes tightly."
“Only by standing up can we take control of our destiny.”
The clanging of metal colliding continued endlessly, like a surging ocean, rushing through the long and narrow corridor.
Now, they were all standing.
Mortarion looked at his offspring with satisfaction, his withered body standing before his silent offspring.
Death sighed.
"My children, I cannot give you glory."
"I can't deceive you with empty glory. I know very well that those glittering medals can't bring you anything."
"I know very well that you will be stuck in a dirty and muddy battlefield. Compared to the glorious battles described by the historians, you will face endless wars. You will fight against cunning aliens, greedy humans, and crazy wizards."
"You may get stuck in the mud, you may lie helplessly on the bodies of your comrades, and you may struggle to climb out of the pile of corpses."
"There is no glory on a muddy and dirty battlefield."
"I cannot give you glory."
"But I promise you death."
"Everyone will die on the battlefield, including me."
"This is our destiny. I will not deceive you with false promises of a bright future."
"We will persevere through all the sufferings we experience before we meet our destined death."
"We will struggle to our deaths in misery."
"We are the Death Guard, we acknowledge death."
“But every time we struggle, we will leave humanity with a land free of oppression.”
"so,"
"Please fight for humanity, please fight for liberation."
"My offspring."
This is a command, a sigh, and a blessing.
No one spoke, no one looked up. They were silent warriors, a team moving forward silently in the fog.
Like a ripple, it slowly spread out and the Death Guards began to leave spontaneously.
The figures that had rushed here earlier seemed to still be in this corridor. They patted their previous selves and left silently.
There was no other sound except the sound of footsteps and the sound of metal.
Soon, the corridor became quiet.
Barathin led the rest of the Captains, along with the Chief Librarian and the Forge Master, towards Mortarion.
Mortarion and Hades stood there, looking at them.
It's time to take action.
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(End of this chapter)