Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Lictor calmed down very quickly, even surprisingly quickly. He quickly returned to 'normal' and stood in front of He Shenyan without saying a word. If Fulgrim planned to attack the mage , then, he will become a wall.

Angron glanced at him calmly and said nothing.

Naturally, He Shenyan also discovered this. He smiled and said, "It doesn't have to be like this, Likto, he won't attack me."

"...I doubt it, my lord."

Lictor said in a deep voice: "I won't ask about his origins. You might say that he is a 'loyal' primarch like Angron. But I still remember that he is one of the traitors."

When he said this, his eyes almost burst out with flames of hatred. Angron seemed to have a vein beating on his forehead.

"Whether he is or not, we will know at a glance."

He Shenyan stepped forward. Fulgrim, who was standing in the display cabinet, was still staring at the empty front with confused eyes. The mage raised his hand and gently pressed it on the cabinet door. The golden The flames lit up again. Lictor narrowed his eyes - he became more and more sure of one thing, and couldn't help but become more nervous.

The fire burned the stagnant position very quickly, but only for a moment, Fulgrim was freed from it. His eyes suddenly became agile, and he glanced around like a panicked child, as if he was looking for his own. Father.

The muscles all over his body were tense, holding up the cloth. His perfect appearance became more otherworldly due to this hint of fear, but it made Lictor, who had been watching him, let out a cold snort of disgust.

"You - you..." He seemed to want to say something, but couldn't finish it.

He caught a glimpse of Angron, who was standing far away silently. That familiar face quickly turned Fulgrim's expression into a terrifying one - first there was a burst of joy, and Gain saw a familiar person. But he seemed to He remembered something again, and his expression turned into guilt and... murderous intent.

"...So, Fabius sold me to another Chaos war gang?"

He quickly restored the original demeanor, and the previous weakness completely disappeared. The tall giant standing here has an otherworldly and perfect appearance. He frowned, and a little anger and disappointment not only did not destroy his perfection, On the contrary, it adds a lot of color to it.

"And you, my brother, don't have to hide anymore. Why don't you stand closer?"

Fulgrim said politely, his Gothic was impeccable, and the pauses between pronunciations combined with his melodious voice made the sentence sound like a poem.

"No one is hiding."

Angron stepped forward, crossing his arms and looking at Fulgrim distrustfully.

"Really? But you didn't deny that this is a Chaos warband."

Fulgrim narrowed his eyes, and the deep murderous intent once again gathered on the face of the newly born clone: ​​"It's nice to see you again, brother. You are a little different from what I remember. But, I'm sorry. , I cannot tolerate the existence of traitors, you and these people must die."

Angron glanced at He Shenyan and saw that he had no intention of stopping him. Then, a smile slowly appeared on Angron's face.

He is very heroic, and his otherworldly charm also makes Angron extraordinary handsome. Unfortunately, his smile ruins everything - that look is not so much a way for humans to express goodwill, but more like the roar of a beast before launching an attack.

.

"What happens after that? What are you going to do?"

He moved his neck and slowly approached Fulgrim: "What do you want to do, Fulgrim? You are a traitor."

"...I can't deny what I have done, but I have been given a new life." Fulgrim said calmly. "Not everyone gets a second chance. I have to turn everything around and put things right."

"

A kind of radiance slowly rose on his face. This scene made Lictor feel extremely ridiculous. He actually heard Fulgrim say: "The Empire will not fall, because I have returned! My father's glory will be restored again."

Spread to thousands of worlds, and humanity will eventually rise!"

With full murderous intent, he also took steps and approached Angron: "...and you, my brother, you are the sacrifice for my new life."

Angron grinned and laughed silently: "Then let's try it."

"boom!"

The battle between the two original bodies was simple and unpretentious. Every punch and kick they threw was aimed at killing each other, but the momentum was extremely shocking.

The battle had just begun when their fists colliding with each other made a loud noise. The resulting aftermath and their power forced the magic circle above them to buzz, and the blue light quickly dropped, instantly increasing the intensity of the silver ground.

Lictor calmly evaluated the probability of killing these two people if he joined the battle. The result he came up with was one percent.

The Primarch is, after all, the Primarch.

Fulgrim said nothing after entering the battle, and he attacked silently. The offensive like running water was extremely terrifying, but Angron became more and more happy as he fought.

He laughed loudly, stepped forward, and found a gap in Fulgrim's airtight combo. The big hand that looked like it was made of steel grabbed his collar, and then beat him hard.

He fell to the ground: "You want to kill me with just this little thing?"

"Ha--you'll see it!"

Fulgrim gritted his teeth, the battle being dragged into the ground was extremely unsightly.

He had never received such training - as a son of the Emperor, as a beloved phoenix, Fulgrim has always been a symbol of perfection. Even on the battlefield, his manners were impeccable, and he only had to wave his sword.

You can kill many aliens, why do you need to roll around on the ground in such a mess?

But Angron was different.

He is a general and a warrior. He will practice, master, and ultimately use any means that can win in battle. His purpose is very pure - to win.

That's all.

Therefore, Angron easily strangled Fulgrim and knocked him unconscious. Frankly speaking, He Shenyan did not expect such a result.

He originally expected Fulgrim to hold on a little longer.

Angron let go of his hand, and the unconscious Fulgrim fell from between his arms to the ground. He smiled disdainfully, turned to the mage and said: "It would be better not to have too many expectations for him.

"

"oh?"

"In the ground battle just now, I deliberately left a few loopholes. If he can put aside his so-called manners and really fight me personally, then he will last longer."

Angron said calmly: "He cares too much about the so-called perfection. Even in such a life-and-death battle, he is unwilling to let go of his persistence in his manners. How can we expect him to remain loyal?"

"indeed so."

He Shenyan smiled softly and made a gesture.

----------------------------------------

I failed. So, I still haven't been able to wash away this shame.

Floating in darkness, Fulgrim thought.

The bitter taste spread in his heart. Fulgrim wanted to sigh - if he could.

It's a pity that this place is endless, dark and nothing.

Is this what death feels like? It's not what I remember.

...No, what I remember is not a real death.

He thought thoughtfully, yes, that's not real death.

It was a process of abandoning humanity and selling one's soul. As a human, Fulgrim died in that process, and what was left behind was a monster with his face in his face.

A shameless monster who blindly pursues pleasure.

Every time he thought of this, Fulgrim felt deep pain. Shame, anger, and unwillingness intertwined in his heart. He didn't understand why he indulged in pleasure so easily, and even led the entire legion to fall with him.

What did he let his descendants become?

This is all my fault.

"Yes, this is all your fault."

Another voice said.

A ray of light flashed, and Fulgrim found that he had a physical form again. He stood on a cliff, and a man in a black robe stood beside him. He made Fulgrim feel familiar, but also very strange.

strangeness.

He turned his head, and where his face should have been was a golden glow. It was like a surging ocean, or like a burning flame.

"Who are you?" Fulgrim asked.

The man did not answer his question. He turned his head and raised his arms, causing golden ripples in the air. Small mottled golden rays of light radiated from his body. Fulgrim noticed that his arms were also

It's golden.

"Behold, Fulgrim."

"What are you looking at?"

"Look at the empire today."

A force forced him to turn his head and opened his eyes wide. Fulgrim stared at the broken empire. His eyes traveled through countless star fields at this moment, and he 'saw' hundreds of stars in an instant.

There are thousands of planets. They are all different. Some are prosperous and some are poor. But they all have one thing in common.

Stupid.

A foolish belief forced people to become fanatical and blindly obedient, but the owner of that belief made him feel cold all over - that was his father.

Could it be that... Horus was right? His father really wanted to become a god, and humans were just sacrifices he prepared?

With this question in mind, he continued to read.

The world that was supposed to be progressive and open has become ignorant and backward, with persecution and corrupt and incompetent bureaucrats running rampant in the name of faith. Even more than the alien traitors, Fulgrim's body shivered because he realized that those people were not traitors.

.

They were loyal, very loyal - and that was exactly what he couldn't accept.

How could the empire become like this...?

"What do you think, Fulgrim?" the man spoke again.

Fulgrim remained silent.

"That's right, you won't have the answer. You are just a clone, a dead soul from the past. Sooner or later, you will become a symbol of corruption like your predecessor."

"No!"

Fulgrim shouted loudly. At this moment, the pursuit of perfection and the deliberate maintenance of manners all disappeared. Only the hottest anger and the most determined rejection were left. He stared at the man, glaring angrily.

Eyes wide open, body trembling: "No!"

"What do you want to say? You are a traitor, Fulgrim. Look at the damage you and your heirs have done to the Empire."

The man waved his hand again, and Fulgrim saw something new again. This time, he shed tears uncontrollably.

He saw his descendants shouting his name loudly, setting off a wave of terror in the galaxy - they still wore purple power armor, but the purple color was no longer as noble as before. Instead, it became a symbol of illness.

Their limbs are twisted and their faces are fanatical. They play with their own kind wantonly, and they create all kinds of horrors with their own hands, but they laugh extremely happily. The dual pleasure from the spirit and body lures them into the deepest level of depravity, and the culprit

The culprit...

"The culprit...is me."

Fulgrim stared blankly at the scene in front of him and murmured.

He saw himself.

A twisted half-man, half-snake monster wielding four poison-filled blades. It enjoyed and performed depravity with its descendants. Together they called their master with human blood, thirsting for Slaanesh.

More joy. This scene made him tremble all over.

"I..." He raised his head, filled with pain: "I."

He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"Is this the perfection you seek, Fulgrim?"

Without waiting for Fulgrim to answer, he continued: "Perfection does not exist, Emperor's Son. It is a made-up term, an unattainable and foolish illusion. Only a fool like you would indulge in it.

You can’t extricate yourself from it.”

Fulgrim wanted to refute, but he didn't. Deep in his heart, he knew that this man was right.

"But you are not hopeless yet."

The man's voice became gentler. He stretched out a hand burning with golden flames, looked at Fulgrim, and said slowly: "Come on, Fulgrim. Come and meet them."

Fulgrim took the hand.

His pupils dilated, and all the muscles in his body began to twitch. Even his bones began to vibrate together. Fulgrim could clearly feel that his organs were failing. His eyes were getting darker and darker, and his heart began to beat slower and slower.

A purple mist gradually obscured his vision.

He began to feel happy, just like before. His brain began to become numb and sluggish in the joy, and his thinking became sticky.

Such a familiar depravity. He sighed inaudibly - Am I still going to become a monster in the end? Can't I change anything?

However, an extremely painful voice screamed in his ears: "Save them! Save them!"

Save...who?

"them!"

who are they?

The voice turned into a roar, passing through the purple mist that almost enveloped him.

A heart-shaking roar sounded in his ears, shocking his sluggish brain: "Them!"

"them!"

Fulgrim's eyes widened.

The fog was dispelled, and the golden light turned into flames and burned it away. A charming sigh sounded from the void, and Fulgrim felt his heart relax, like a monster letting go of its evil claws.

.

He looked up - thousands of familiar faces emerged from the darkness, looking at him expectantly. He knew every one of them. Those familiar faces were either filled with sadness or despair.

They all stared at Fulgrim.

Fulgrim stared at them as well - oh, my children.

He said with sadness: I don't deserve your love, I am a monster, a monster destined to fall.

One of the thousands of people came out. He had a resolute face and long hair shawl.

Fulgrim recognized him instantly. It was Sol Tarvitz. He died on Istvan III, at the hands of his own people, and at the hands of Lucius, who pursued happiness just like him.

Because he didn't want to join the same trap as his father.

Are you here to blame me, Thor?

Thor said: No, father.

He pulled out his power sword, which was still stained with blood and slowly dripping: I'm here to save you.

save me?

The power sword drew a trace in the air. Sol Tarvitz's swordsmanship was flawless and accurately left a scar on Fulgrim's face. He looked at Fulgrim quietly and said: The Order of the Phoenix

Nirvana, father, this is what you taught us.

Fulgrim looked at him blankly.

Immediately afterwards, another one of the thousands of people walked out, and then another... They walked out one after another, leaving wounds on Fulgrim's body one after another, causing him to bleed. Fogg

Reim felt endless weakness, almost blocking his vision. He wanted to die just like that.

This is not a bad ending. He died in the hands of his loyal heir who died unjustly. It can be regarded as atonement.

But...he didn't.

He is not dead.

Fulgrim was kneeling naked on the ground. There was not a single piece of good flesh on his body. Wounds could be seen everywhere. His perfect face was cut like a child's poor portrait. His descendants surrounded him, full of sorrow.

Watch him.

Then, golden flames rose out of thin air and began to slowly burn their souls.

No!

Fulgrim watched this scene with splitting eyes. He could not understand all this, so he just stretched out his weak right hand: No!

But he couldn't stop anything, he could only watch them die again one by one - in front of him.

Sol Tarvitz was the last one to leave him, and his face was becoming illusory. Fulgrim's tears and blood had almost dried up, but he still did not die. Sol Tarvitz silently

Smiling, he said: Father, be reborn in Nirvana.

He disappeared, and the sword that gave Fulgrim his first scar clinked to the ground.

Golden flames suddenly ignited from Fulgrim's bruised body. He endured the pain and inner pain and slowly stood up. His body became intact again in the flames.

The perfect-looking giant stood expressionless. He lowered his head, picked up the sword left by Sol Tavitz, and made a long and narrow wound on his right cheek, destroying his flawless face.

.

Blood flowed out.

----------------------------------------

real world.

He Shenyan opened his eyes, smiled and sighed.

Angron looked at him with confusion, and the mage said softly: "The phoenix has reborn, Angron."

Fulgrim suddenly opened his eyes.