My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 501: A Moment to Breathe
Above Cadia, the tide of daemonic energy had receded. A battered, soot-covered group trudged onward.
"What's the plan?"
+To board the Vengeful Spirit.+
"Board the Vengeful Spirit, and then what?"
+You will obtain Slaanesh's power, and then pray to the 'Deceased One.'+
A heavy breath sounded, followed by a strained voice.
"And then?"
Lorgar's floating head turned calmly toward Fulgrim.
+Your task will be complete.+
Fulgrim froze for a moment, then let out a self-mocking laugh.
"So I'm just bait... Fine."
He drew in a deep breath.
"The Vengeful Spirit... Is Horus alright?"
+He betrayed us.+
Fulgrim blinked. High above, faint flashes of fire appeared amidst the dense cloud cover.
"Not surprising."
"Not surprising at all..."
As though remembering something, Fulgrim spoke again to Lorgar, who was searching for a path forward.
"When my part is done... can you kill me?"
+Malcador can.+
"Good."
The Phoenician pressed his lips together before speaking stiffly.
"At least I can still have some value in the end."
Fulgrim's words left Lorgar silent for a moment. Finally, he replied:
+The Emperor will protect loyal souls.+
Fulgrim let out a mocking chuckle.
"Your Emperor."
The Phoenician wiped his face without the slightest concern for dignity. The distant droning sound was growing louder. Which Legion had come to retrieve them? The Word Bearers? Or whatever remained of the Iron Hands?
And with Horus having fallen, how were they supposed to reach the Vengeful Spirit? A direct assault?
Fulgrim did not believe the Word Bearers' fleet could break through the Warmaster's defenses—in fact, the Word Bearers were among the worst naval commanders of all the Legions.
The tiny specks finally emerged from the thick clouds. Strands of gray mist clung to the descending shuttles, trailing behind them like threads as they came down.
Fulgrim's pupils widened.
In his eyes was reflected a single staring eye.
"—The Sons of Horus?!"
Fulgrim exclaimed.
"I thought Horus betrayed us?!"
Lorgar simply continued walking toward them.
+Temporary allies,+ the Primarch said.
+The enemy now is Slaanesh... even if She has fallen into a brief slumber.+
Fulgrim's breathing grew ragged. His mouth opened and closed several times before he finally managed to force out a few words.
"I don't understand..."
The Phoenician spoke in a low voice.
"...I don't understand. I can't tell what's what anymore."
Lorgar, who had been leading the way, suddenly stopped. Fulgrim nearly walked into him.
Turning around, Lorgar firmly grasped Fulgrim's hand.
+As long as your faith in Him remains steadfast, you will see the path before you clearly.+
Fulgrim shook off Lorgar's hand. The corner of his mouth twitched.
"I am loyal to humanity."
Lorgar paid no attention to Fulgrim's cold expression and resumed leading the way.
Ahead of them, the Sons of Horus shuttle had already landed.
+Things were never complicated.+
The Primarch said:
+There has only ever been one goal for all living beings: bring back the Deceased One.+
. . .
Unexpected, yet somehow entirely expected, the one who came to receive Fulgrim and Lorgar was Ezekyle Abaddon.
Abaddon saw Fulgrim first. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but he concealed it well.
Then he saw Lorgar.
This time, he failed to hide his shock.
Fortunately, the current Lorgar would not take offense.
"Good day, my lords."
Abaddon greeted the two dust-covered Primarchs respectfully and welcomed them aboard.
Inside the Sons of Horus shuttle, Fulgrim sank into a velvet sofa. The scent of incense lingered in the air.
With a bitter smile, he looked toward Abaddon.
"How is my brother?"
"My father is in excellent condition," Abaddon replied without blinking.
Yet Fulgrim could clearly sense the tension in the Son of Horus.
+Does he still choose to believe in our father?+
Abaddon's gaze shifted to Lorgar.
The corner of his eye twitched ever so slightly.
He had thought Mortarion already represented the limits of human imagination.
"Those who betrayed the Lord of Humanity were not us," Abaddon said sternly.
"With all due respect, my lord—declaring oneself Emperor, overturning the Imperial Truth, and establishing a religion... none of these were the doing of the Sons of Horus."
As he looked at Lorgar, a complicated expression appeared in his eyes.
+But you were wrong as well.+ Lorgar answered calmly.
+Did you not also reach out your hands toward the beings of the Warp?+
Abaddon lifted his chin slightly.
"We needed new allies. New power. Something to carry us through the Warp storms," he said with difficulty. "Not to become..."
His gaze shifted toward Lorgar and Fulgrim.
+Ignorant.+ Lorgar replied.
Abaddon took a step back.
"Forgive my insolence, my lord."
The Son of Horus withdrew, disappearing into the darkness beyond the chamber.
Fulgrim stared at the door through which Abaddon had left.
There were others in the reception room—armed Sons of Horus standing guard—but the two Primarchs paid them no attention.
"They think they're right," Fulgrim muttered to himself.
+They lack the guidance of the true faith,+ Lorgar said, wiping away a tear that had run down the corner of his eye.
"No..." Fulgrim replied.
"Sometimes I wonder... does right and wrong even exist?"
. . .
"Right and wrong no longer exist," Corax said.
"You should get some rest before saying things like that," Sanguinius replied.
Smiling, the Angel reached down and pulled Corax out of the wreckage of a crashed shuttle.
The Lord of Ravens looked utterly exhausted, dazed and hollow.
The only thing unchanged was the overwhelming aura of despair hanging around him.
"You've worked hard," Sanguinius said.
A faint radiance shone from his face, lending him an almost divine appearance.
"You came from over there?"
"Over there?"
Corax asked, before realizing what Sanguinius meant.
"Yes. I came from the Cygnus sector."
The Angel blinked.
"That is good news."
"How so?"
"You're the first one to arrive from that direction."
His eyes brightened slightly.
"Will reinforcements be coming?"
Corax took a deep breath.
A chill crept up his spine as he remembered what that damned Emperor had told him.
"No."
Like a child admitting a mistake, he lowered his head.
"He wants you to reinforce Cadia."
The Angel's smile did not change in the slightest.
It remained perfectly fixed, like a mask.
"Oh," Sanguinius spoke calmly.
"That is unfortunate."
Behind Corax, curses echoed as members of the Emperor's Children crawled out of the wreckage.
The noise only made the Primarch feel more awkward.
Sanguinius simply continued to watch him quietly.
"How are things over here...?" Corax asked, "How are you holding up?"
"Very badly," Sanguinius answered.
"The situation worsened about a month ago."
He paused.
"Though I'm not entirely certain. Time itself has become somewhat unstable here."
"Prayers to the Emperor no longer receive answers."
"The daemons, meanwhile, have begun launching suicidal assaults."
"The Lion was wounded during one campaign."
"And Konrad and his Legion aren't suited for offensive operations."
"So we've been forced onto the defensive."
He raised his eyes toward the magnificent sunset hanging over Baal.
"But..."
"I imagine you've already seen the worlds that have fallen along your journey."
Corax pressed his lips together.
"Sounds like things are just as fucked over here."
Sanguinius's eyes widened slightly.
Then he laughed.
This time, it looked like a genuine smile.
Corax remained silent for a moment.
"Wait."
The Primarch frowned.
"You don't pray to the Emperor anymore."
"Then where does your faith lie now?"
The Deceased One?
Sanguinius looked directly at Corax.
"Me."
Corax suddenly felt sweat running down his back.
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