[The images on the screen shift again, transitioning from Fulgrim's heartbreaking ritual of fall to a colder, more viscerally unsettling scene.]
[The screen focuses on the Chief Apothecary of the Emperor's Children Legion—Fabius Bile.]
[At this point in time (the Great Crusade), he was still that loyal Doctor dedicated to curing the Legion's "Blight," but the screen quickly jumps to after the rebellion.]
[That was no longer a medical room. It was a slaughterhouse.]
[Fabius wore a white coat sewn from the skin of unknown creatures, holding a Neural scalpel that was still dripping with blood.]
[There was no murderous intent in his eyes, only something far more terrifying than bloodlust—curiosity.]
[He was "improving" the Emperor's work.]
[In the footage, those once-noble Astartes warriors were strapped to operating tables, their chests cut open, their originally sacred Gene-seed removed, mixed with Xenos DNA and some kind of frenzied chemical agents, and then crudely shoved back into their bodies.]
["Pain is the catalyst of evolution."]
[On the screen, Fabius spoke calmly to a screaming test subject, as if observing a lab rat, "The Emperor's design was too conservative. He limited your potential. And I... I shall unleash it."]
[The camera pans across the corners of the laboratory.]
[It was piled high with failures.]
[Some had grown extra limbs, some had turned into lumps of meat that only leaked acid, and others... had become mutated monsters known as "New Men."]
[They possessed enhanced muscles and feral instincts, but had lost the reason and dignity of being human.]
["This is sacrilege!!"]
Inside the real-World Throne Room, a roar broke the dead silence.
It was Corax. This Primarch of the Raven Guard was usually somber and silent, but at this moment, his face was terrifyingly pale, and a black fury burned in his eyes.
To this Primarch who was dedicated to liberating slaves and hated oppression, what Fabius was doing was not just physical modification, but the most thorough enslavement of the essence of life itself.
"He has turned men into Beasts! He has turned Astartes into lumps of meat!"
Corax pointed at the screen, his fingers trembling, "This is even worse than Carnage! This is trampling upon the bottom line of what it means to be 'human'!"
"It is truly revolting."
Sanguinius looked away, unable to bear watching any longer. As the master of a Legion burdened with the "Red Thirst" curse, he had spent his life striving to maintain the humanity and nobility of his sons. Yet Fabius was actively seeking mutation and embracing deformity.
"He calls this evolution?"
The Archangel's voice carried a deep sorrow.
"No, this is devolution. This is stripping the noble soul from its shell, leaving only mad flesh."
Even Angron, the Primarch tormented by the Butcher's Nails, let out a low growl of disgust at this moment.
"He is a butcher."
Angron stared at Fabius on the screen. "But he doesn't even have a butcher's dignity. He's a... pervert who toys with entrails."
Among the agitated Primarchs, Lion slowly stood up.
The master of the First Legion's face was as cold as iron. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and there was no excess emotion in his eyes, only a judgmental coldness.
"Such a thing cannot be allowed to remain."
Lion's voice was not loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority that instantly suppressed the surrounding clamor.
He turned around, his gaze looking directly at the equally grim-faced Fulgrim, and then looked toward the Emperor.
"Father."
Lion said, "This Fabius Bile, must be dealt with. Not only because of his future crimes, but because his current thoughts are already a dangerous malignant tumor."
"Hand him over to me."
Lion made his request, "The First Legion has specialized means for dealing with such 'unspeakable things'."
"We will lock him in the deepest dungeons of the Dark Angels, or... make him disappear from history entirely."
"A madman who desecrates genes and insults the Emperor's creations—every second he lives is an insult to the Imperium."
These words resonated with many.
Dorn nodded: "Agreed. Logically, his existence poses the highest level of threat to the Genetic purity of the Astartes. He must be eliminated."
Russ also spat: "A madman who meddles with sorcery and potions should be thrown into the wolf pits to feed the dogs!"
However, just when everyone thought Fabius was doomed.
A heavy sigh rang out.
Vulkan walked out.
The merciful master of the Salamanders looked at the screaming test subjects on the screen, his eyes full of pain. But he did not join the others in calling for blood.
"Brothers, wait."
Vulkan's voice was thick and compassionate. "It is true that he has committed treasonous acts. Those images... are simply scenes from hell."
"But please, look at the environment at that time."
Vulkan pointed to the decorations in the screen's background, which were magnificent yet filled with an evil aura, as well as the crazed laughter of the fallen Fulgrim.
"At that time, the entire The Third Legion had already gone mad."
Vulkan said slowly.
"Fulgrim had already fallen, and the Legion's chain of command had collapsed. Fabius was in an environment corrupted by Slaanesh, surrounded by madmen chasing extreme stimulation."
"The corruption of Chaos is everywhere. It is like a plague that twists a person's mind and amplifies their inner obsessions."
Vulkan looked at Lion, his tone sincere: "Lion, if you were thrown into such an environment, all alone, facing the madness of an entire World, could you guarantee that you would never do anything wrong?"
"Even if he is a sinner, he was pushed into the abyss by his environment."
"At that time, Fulgrim... that monster, what choice did he give Fabius? To obey and conduct experiments, or to die?"
"That is an excuse!" Lion retorted coldly, "True loyalty is not affected by the environment."
"It is not an excuse; it is a tragedy."
Vulkan shook his head, "When we judge a person, we cannot ignore the state of the World that turned him into a ghost."
Just as the two were at a stalemate.
Fulgrim, who had been silent, head bowed and trembling all over, suddenly looked up.
His eyes were bloodshot, and on that once-arrogant and perfect face, there was now a look of guilt and shame, but even more so, a protective determination.
"No... don't touch him."
Fulgrim's voice was raspy, as if his throat were filled with grit.
He stood up from his seat, staggered for a moment, and then stood firmly between the screen and Lion.
"He is my son."
Fulgrim looked at Lion, then at his brothers who were casting looks of contempt at him, and said loudly:
"Yes, the future me is a monster. The future me is a bastard. All of that... all those disgusting experiments were done with my tacit consent, and even under my encouragement!"
Fulgrim clenched his fists, his nails piercing his palms.
"Fabius... I know him. The him of now."
"He is a madman, he is a zealot, but he joined the Legion to cure the 'Blight'!"
"He walked this path to save his brothers from being killed by genetic defects!"
Fulgrim took a deep breath, seemingly calming the agitation in his heart:
"I believe... if it weren't because I fell, if it weren't because I, his father, went mad first, if it weren't because I gave him those damn orders..."
"He would never have turned out that way!"
"He is a Doctor! A Doctor who wanted to save people! It was I... I who turned him into a butcher!"
Fulgrim turned around, facing the Golden Throne, and knelt down with a thud.
This proud Phoenix cast aside all his dignity at this moment.
"Father!"
Fulgrim shouted, his voice choking.
"Please do not kill him. I am the main culprit. If such things truly happen in the future, please punish me. Fabius... he is just a child lost on the path of pursuing perfection."
"As long as I am still here, as long as I remain loyal, I can control him! I swear, I will watch over him, and I will guide his damned brilliance toward the right path!"
"I beg you... give him a chance."
The hall fell into a dead silence once more.
Everyone looked at this Primarch kneeling on the ground. Even the iron-hearted Ferrus was moved at this moment.
He knew how proud Fulgrim was; for him to kneel and plead in public meant he truly saw that Apothecary as his own child.
"Hmph."
Lion gave a cold snort, and although he did not sheathe his sword, the murderous aura around him receded slightly. He looked toward the Emperor, waiting for the final judgment.
Upon the throne.
The golden radiance flickered slightly.
The Emperor's eyes, which saw through past and future, seemed to pierce through time and space, seeing into a more distant future.
He saw that figure wearing a coat of human skin.
But he saw more than just Carnage and mutation.
He saw something else.
[Fabius Bile.]
The Emperor's grand will resonated in everyone's minds.
[In that dark future, at the end of the ten-thousandth year...]
[He is indeed a monster.]
[But he also achieved something that almost no one but I could do.]
[His methods are evil, but some of his techniques... are unique.]
The Emperor's gaze fell upon the kneeling Fulgrim.
[Furthermore, as Vulkan said, the good or evil of a tool depends on the one who uses it.]
[Since you have guaranteed him, Fulgrim.]
[Then...]
[The death penalty is spared.]
Fulgrim looked up abruptly, a light of pleasant surprise bursting from his eyes.
[However,]
The Emperor's tone shifted, becoming stern.
[He shall not escape punishment. He can no longer remain in The Third Legion. At least not for now.]
[You need time to reflect, and he needs a harsher environment to 'correct' his Research ethics.]
The Emperor looked toward Lion.
[Lion, your proposal is half-granted.]
[Take Fabius Bile away. Entrust him to the custody of the First Legion.]
[Not as a prisoner, but as a... 'Special Technical Advisor'.]
[Confine him within your Monastery. Let your people watch him. Give him equipment and resources, but it must be under absolute surveillance.]
[If he wishes to research, let him research how to repair the genetic defects of the Astartes, and how to combat the mutations of Chaos.]
[This is his sentence: to use his talent to atone for his sins.]
[As for the rest... it shall be discussed in the future.]
"Yes, Father."
Lion bowed slightly, a cold smile curling at the corner of his lips. "I will take good 'care' of him. I will teach him what it means when 'certain boundaries must never be crossed'."
Although Fulgrim was somewhat reluctant, he knew this was the best possible outcome.
At least Fabius wouldn't have to die, and in a place like the First Legion where discipline was paramount, perhaps he truly could mend his ways.
"Thank you, Father." Fulgrim kowtowed deeply.