Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

Wait, there's color on the tapestry!

With several exclamations of surprise, it lit up and came to life!

Everything became clear!

color!

The colors on the tapestry blend together like those in the real world!

A beam of light suddenly appeared on the originally pitch-black tapestry, adorned with a graceful figure.

"It's Sister Fugen!!!"

"This is something Sister Fugen taught us, it's called the screen!"

A child's voice, brimming with pride, emerged from among the workers.

Since Herold came to power, child laborers have returned to Carax.

But perhaps it is precisely these children, whose childhoods are imbued with color, who are able to recognize the form of ideals and dreams.

"Fugan? She didn't murder the head of the Sherlock family to become a nobleman, nor did she want to seize power and control the entire Karak—"

"You're talking nonsense! Sister Fugen is a good person!"

Before the man could finish speaking, the child angrily retorted.

"Child, forget about that fool. Tell us quickly, what is Fugrim doing?"

Why did she suddenly leave us all, and why did she return at this time?

"I don't know either."

The child hesitated for a moment.

“But Sister Fugen promised us before she left that she would put on a play for us.”

"In dramas, we can hear the most beautiful and interesting stories."

Da da.

Her steps were slow and clear.

Bathed in the sole beam of light, Fugrim slowly walked to the front of the stage.

At some point, she took off her aristocratic robes and put on the simple clothes that workers often wore.

Facing the nobles before her and the countless workers waiting behind the screens, she spoke slowly.

"Brothers and sisters, the story I am telling here is not an epic of heroes; just as everything originates from the past."

A clear, melodious voice, like that of a lark, rang out, accompanying the music she had composed herself.

"The sky was still clear then, with endless stars twinkling in the night sky; merchant ships coming and going from Chemos were like pearls on a silver platter."

Countless material possessions and riches will be collected at that time; Chemos was once such a paradise.

Her intonation was incredibly gentle; her words, both ornate and concise, captivated even her uneasy enemy, Herod.

"The people of that time jointly elected several managers; under their oaths and promises, Chemos will be rich forever."

"Can--"

Fugrim's tone shifted. A palpable sadness enveloped everyone's hearts.

"The universe is so cruel: before anyone can even enjoy it, a raging storm suddenly fills the entire sky."

"If you look up again, the brilliant Milky Way is gone; now the sky is only filled with surging yellow sand and endless nothingness."

But the Chemos people did not give up.

"Managers and workers eat and live together, and everyone is united in facing difficulties and obstacles together."

"No matter what difficulties we face in the future, we will overcome them hand in hand!"

Chapter 10 A Story About the Past, Present, and Future

With concerted efforts, one difficulty after another was overcome; with mutual support, we look forward to the day when we can mend the world.

At that time, the people of Chemos were like brothers and sisters, and whether they were poor or rich, they would always live together in harmony.

They firmly believe that the power of unity will ultimately make their ideals immortal.

Fugrim danced gracefully as the recitation began.

"But time is a silent killer."

Her dance was graceful and beautiful, like a lament, tears streaming down her face as she gazed at the moon.

"Lofty ideals have all rusted away, and ancient vows have turned to dust."

"Time cannot fight us, but it can destroy everything we cherish."

"Those who once aspired to travel far and wide no longer strive for their ideals; instead, they sit high above themselves, considering themselves illustrious nobles."

Who would have thought that such lofty ambitions of the past would now turn into those of a traitorous tyrant?

Fugrim fell to her side, as if she had actually been pushed to the ground.

The sound array broadcasting from above the square was now mocking them fiercely.

"Although we are both human, we are not the same: only the innate wisdom of nobles can see beauty and art; while you are just a dull stone, born only to serve!"

The wisdom and talent of the noble will always be respected, while the lowly will die from their own laziness and vulgarity.

Some people are as noble as flowers in a greenhouse, while others are as lowly as the yellow sand beneath your feet.

"We were born this way," they said, heads held high.

"The nobility or baseness of people is predetermined. And our fate has always been nothing more than mediocrity."

Fugrim sat on the ground with her legs bent, her hands raised in the air as if she were tightly embracing something.

"Under immense pressure, the cries of the unjustly killed fluttered like wild grass rolling in the wind."

The high walls of Carax remain silent, like an old man who has seen many changes in life, quietly watching the sandbar outside the city.

Light shimmered behind her, and tiny specks of light converged to form two faces:

Colin and Toreria, Vograim's foster parents.

Their faces were weary and stoic, weathered by life's hardships; they had sacrificed so much to raise this unexpected little life.

The two men's lifespans were like those of mayflies: like countless workers, they both died from high-intensity labor.

All they left for Fugrim was an old, faded fairy tale book.

The lights inside the arena grew dimmer, just like in Carax's fortress, where darkness enveloped everything.

The vows that were once firm have now all decayed.

The once bright stars have all fallen.

Sobbing, she opened the book and wept before the goddess who shared her name:

"Forgrim!"

"O primordial God, please tell me:"

If we are just stubborn rocks, why do we still feel pain in our hearts when we part?

If we are already numb, why does anger still burn in our hearts when we feel injustice?

Why is it that those who once shared life and death can never share happiness, but only suffering?

The lights were relit, and the road ahead became even brighter.

Fugrim slowly rose and loosened her hair ribbon; the silver strands fluttered like a scattering of stars.

"whether--!"

"Am I the same as you: that my love for beautiful things is no less than yours; that the emotions in my heart are just as intense as yours!"

The crisp sound of the question came from the mouth and settled in the heart.

Her incredibly moving sobs echoed throughout the venue; even though she was dressed in coarse cloth, she still looked like a noble princess.

She was speechless, while in the dark, sunless lower levels of the Carax factory, people were already sobbing uncontrollably.

They shared the same joys and sorrows as Fugrim.

They wanted to shout, to speak out; though they didn't understand literature or playwriting, their most primal emotions were throbbing in their hearts at that moment.

"No!"

"Are we plants or trees, how can we not feel sorrow? We have no audience, we can only endure!"

"Don't we all want to take a break, to try, to try to love life?"

"But the iron gate leading to the upper levels remains firmly shut, and the protests against the upper levels have never ended. No matter how much resentment there is, it cannot break this iron lock!"

click!

In that instant, the closed gate in front of the factory leading to the upper floors was no longer an obstacle!

All the sorrow, all the anger, condensed into one at this moment—

"charge!!!"

"How is this going?"

The foundation of the fortress was shaken, and the people's resistance was in full swing.

A deafening roar of shouts accompanied the sound of footsteps. From all directions of the square came a chorus of sorrow and anger.

The metal plates beneath the crowd's feet creaked and groaned, while the anger raged fiercely from their mouths.

"Boss! People, a huge number of protesters are pouring into our area!"

"I'm not deaf! You don't need to repeat yourself!"

Herold's tone was fierce, but his eyes were filled with terror.

"But we seem to be running out of stun guns!"

"You idiot, can't you consider the situation before you speak?!"

"Patrol team, come quickly and guard my left and right sides!"

"Shut up, you evil butcher!"

Fugrim rebuked sharply: "To preserve the status of the nobility, to forever be superior to others."

"You have stooped so low as to collude with foreign tribes and murder your own father!"

"Your cruelty is beyond words, your crimes are beyond description!"

The scene behind her shifted, showing surveillance footage of Herold talking and trading with the group of Surfa thugs.

"This isn't real, this is a fabricated accusation!"

He loudly defended himself, trying to evade responsibility.

However, everyone present glared at the comical master and servant pair with disdain.

Those men called patrolmen, weren't they also subjected to all sorts of humiliation by the nobles?

How could they willingly abandon their great ideals and become ignorant pigs and dogs despised by the nobles?

The crowd's gaze shifted from confusion to determination as they surrounded the two damned guys.

"Your cruelty is beyond words, your crimes are beyond description!"

"Your cruelty is beyond words, your crimes are beyond description!"

"Um, okay."

At that moment, Raul seemed to understand his master's reprimand.

"It seems we don't have enough; there's a lot more than just stun guns."

The roar of the mountains and the tsunami filled every corner of Carax.

People followed the route and rushed to the upper level.

They are both actors and audience members.