Warhammer: In the Name of the Emperor

The Eastern Frontier of the Empire—Ultimate Starfield—Macragge Sector—Vons Silva Domain

The Endurance is suspended in the void. As one of the current twin flagships of the Death Guard Legion, it has many missions and responsibilities. One of them is as the Son of Plague, the Primarch of the Death Legion, and the Emperor's former son Mo Talion's flagship.

No one had ever asked, or dared to ask Mortarion, if the Emperor was still his father today, no, no one, and he still kept the statue of the Emperor in the flagship hall.

The entire Endurance was wrapped in sarcoma and living tissue. The once magnificent structure was replaced by teeth, wriggling pieces of flesh, and tentacles swinging around in the universe. It was suspended at the edge of the galaxy's light belt, like a living star plane. Like a beast, a filthy beast.

Around it, more living battleships surrounded him, guarding it in the center from the rebel navy, the Death Guard, and twisted giant ships born directly from the warp.

But inside the giant ship, the Endurance is full of living tissue, filled with fungal stench, and poisonous fog, but there is a complete cabin that is almost a miracle here. There are no living things here. The steel walls, tables, chairs, and tapestries are still stored here.

It was very simple here, with an iron chair, a bed, and a table, and nothing else. The walls were bare, and it looked no different from a prison cell.

But this is a restricted area on the entire battleship. No one dares to approach here without permission, not even the Astartes of the Death Guard, because this is the private cabin of the owner of this giant ship, Mortarion.

Ironically, although Mortarion's legions are insulated from the word "hygiene", he himself is very close to the word "hygiene". There are no bloated pieces of flesh on his armor, no pustules or bugs lying on it. The dark green armor was carefully decorated.

Just like this cabin, the few furniture here are placed almost accurately. If you had been here ten thousand years ago, you would be surprised to find that nothing here has changed. Everything is the same ten thousand years ago. It hasn't changed over the years, and neither does the music box.

Mortarion sat on the iron chair. He sat in front of the only window here. Unlike in the past, there was no pair of wings behind the Plague Lord. The huge moth-like wings shrank behind him and were retracted by psychic energy. stand up.

In front of him, the huge floor-to-ceiling window was filled with stars, but Mortarion didn't look at them. His attention was on the music box.

A soul was imprisoned in the crystal. He was shrouded in a sickly fog. His face was twisted and painful. He screamed, and his voice was torn apart by the lightning in the fog, along with his face.

He was constantly being shattered and then put back together again, each time bringing varying degrees of pain. The cycle never stopped, and it had been this way for ten thousand years.

"Ah, Father, my true Father, you taught me many things, but the one I am most proud of is pain."

"How is it? My dear father, do you feel the results of my study? You will be proud of me, because I studied very well."

Mortarion smiled, his smile a little ferocious, that was his father, I mean, a real father.

Many Primarchs never thought of the Emperor as a father. Yes, he created them, but that was all. Their true fathers were those who raised them.

Some primarchs are lucky. They have a good native family and a truly good father, such as Guilliman. Every time he thinks of this, Mortarion feels an uncontrollable anger. Is this jealousy? Is this what mortals call jealousy?

No, he wasn't jealous, it was painful, as he had learned since childhood.

Mortarion tightened his grip on the music box, and the soul inside howled in agony. The louder his screams made Mortarion feel calmer and, more importantly, smile.

"Oh, my dear father, my dear warlord, you are better than the fathers of those incompetent people. You have taught me so much, let me think about it, ruthlessness, suffering, torture and forbearance, ah, there are too many, I I can’t even count them.”

“But the proudest thing of all is the pain.”

Mortarion touched the scars on his face. The horrifying scars on his pale skin were still unhealed wounds even after becoming a transcendent being. No one knew that they were really unhealed. Or is it something left by Mortarion Ancient, a kind of memorial?

Just like the music box in his hand, Mortarion tightened his grip on it again, and lightning shattered the soul within, tearing his arms apart and tearing off his legs, leaving him screaming in agony for mercy, but Mortarion's There is only a smile on the face.

"My good father, my good father, how beautiful your voice is. I just took you with me. Throughout the universe, there will be no one more beautiful than you."

"Lord Mortarion."

The hatch was opened, and a Death Guard Astartes stood at the door. Mortarion did not look back at him, but raised the music box, and then Starlight examined the soul inside it more carefully, which he called his father.

"You disturbed my leisure, Nero Hughes. This is my favorite moment."

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I have something to report."

Nerosius did not enter the room. He did not dare to step into it. Unlike Mortarion, the armor all over his body was covered with abscesses. Although he was one of the few people in the legion who did not want to expose his inner self. , cleaned and protected itself, but Nurgle's favor was still difficult to imprison.

The loving father lets them sing and spread true love to all directions. This is not something Narotheus can decide. He is the container of Nurgle. He is the incarnation of his will and can only practice this way.

So he didn't dare to step inside, as if he was afraid of polluting this clean place. No one knew what the consequences would be, because no one dared to do it. This was Mortarion's sanctuary, his private territory.

Since joining Nurgle's embrace, Narothius has forgotten many things. He doesn't remember Mortarion's angry appearance, but he doesn't want to know.

"Say it."

Mortarion said, and the soul in his hand screamed again. Narakusius listened, but he was not silent. He thought for a moment and then slowly spoke.

"Old Mountain Bruce failed, it did not defeat Guilliman."

"it's a pity."

As he spoke, Mortarion suddenly clenched the music box in his hand. The scream of his soul did not end quickly this time, but turned into a long roar, long and far-reaching like a symphony that would never end.

"But it's not surprising. My brother, although he is one of the least good at fighting among all people, he is still my brother after all, you know? Narhusius, we were brothers, we were. "

"Yes, sir."

Narakusius nodded silently. He did not say a word. This is the iron law in the legion. Even if ten thousand years have passed, the Death Guard is no longer what it was back then, but discipline, only discipline has been preserved in these ten thousand years. And it is deeply engraved in everyone's corrupt heart.

His master, on the other hand, admired the torn soul for a while and then slowly said, "Did it get Guilliman's blood? Just one drop will be enough, just like I ordered."

"No, my lord, he did not. His soul was destroyed."

Before Narlosius finished his words, he was replaced by a scream. The soul in the music box was completely shattered this time. He said goodbye with an unprecedented painful scream, and then disappeared into the mist.

"He failed. Tell me, Narlosius, what was the price of failure?"

"Death, my lord."

Narakusius replied in a low voice, obviously not talking about himself, but he was still shocked in his heart. He lowered his head and did not dare to look directly at the pale figure. He became angry.

"Well, he's lucky. His soul has completely disappeared and can't be found. Otherwise, I would have let him experience the fruits of my learning."

As he spoke, Mortarion restored the soul in the music box. It reappeared in the box, but it was not good luck, because what was waiting for him was only a longer journey of screaming.

Mortarion put down the music box. He slowly stood up and looked at the Milky Way outside the window. There were no pupils in his thick and dark green eyes. It was a pure eye, which made people feel extremely frightened.

"He got the stone tablet."

Mortarion said after a moment. He took a long breath, and with each breath, a layer of fungal spores formed on the glass in front of him. They quickly dispersed, and then followed the movement of Mortarion's fingers. Everything dies when touched.

"I hate my territory being invaded, but I think my brother would like guests. He always likes banquets, always" Mortarion said in a low voice, his cloudy eyes filled with smoke, his press against the glass Under his fingers, the glass cracked in an instant.

"At a packed banquet, he always has many friends, too many, and now, let me help him sort them out."

"Go down, Naroshius, and listen to my call."

"As you command, my lord."

Narothius withdrew, leaving Mortarion in the room standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. He looked at Macragge shining in the night sky, "You have never invited me to your banquet, brother, never. "