Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

At this point, the only one still able to stay and watch Peturabo's performance in such a tragic state was Kelly Fanny, who was silently shedding tears.

And two Primarchs who had succeeded and were now gloating—Forgione and Mortalian.

Casca is backstage at the theater.

There's also Corax, who has absolutely no idea what's going on.

He sat there silently watching everything that was happening on the stage, without saying a word.

Who am I? Where am I? What are we doing?

He couldn't understand it, and he didn't know the reason behind it all.

Corax was deeply shocked.

[How could those fools possibly know the myriad emotions churning within me?]

[Like a high mountain and flowing water, only you can listen to my stories and understand what's in my heart.]

As the plot unfolds, the play has reached its climax.

Just like Horus and the Emperor's Centaur Ring, the encounter between the Blood Angel and Saint Gilles, and Luther and Ryan's Order of Order, this is the perfect moment for the two protagonists to reveal their true feelings, as a fan-made work derived from the Centaur Ring!

"me."

Peturabo blushed and stammered again.

This narrator is so... so blunt!

It was like a tapeworm in Peturabo's stomach, constantly repeating what Peturabo was thinking at the time.

Don't you understand that some things can be said and some things can't?

He is clearly a man of steel, both inside and out, so how could he act like a coward, looking back and forth?

But I am a master of steel, inside and out; in my eyes, emotions are nothing more than discarded waste.

Therefore, I disguised myself as a ruthless killer.

What I wanted to say, I could never bring myself to say.

Why is it that I, who should be steel inside and out, have a heart of soft flesh and blood?

Peturabo: "."

What the hell is this narrator doing, speaking so realistically?

Clearly, a straightforward approach counters arrogance.

Peturabo, through Casca's meticulous planning, was left with nothing by the Cleveland.

"me."

Peturabo's face turned red.

In this vast theater, witnessed by Thalia and the Olympian gods, Perturab blushed like an apple.

This time it really wasn't because the left brain was attacking the right brain; the left brain was innocent this time.

The left side of the brain was also too tense to speak.

"Yes!"

"Yes, okay, alright! He's right!"

"Just like that damn narrator said, is that enough?!"

Peturabo roared in despair.

“Wuhu!!!”

He admitted it!

In that final moment, a thunderous cheer erupted from the audience.

at last!

Finally!!!

Perturabo finally admitted he's a tsundere!!!

clap clap.

There was a burst of warm applause from the audience.

Moving.

It's like a rebellious kid finally growing up.

But this clearly made Peturabo unhappy.

Damn Fugrim, Mortalian, and Kasgar!

None of you will escape!

Just as everything was over and Peturabo was preparing to launch an attack, it seemed that the other side had been prepared for this all along.

"The time has come, run!"

The two Primarchs vanished like the wind, long since disappeared without a trace.

And what about Corax?

After observing Kelly Fanny and Perturabo, even though he had no idea what was going on, he still chose to disappear and flee.

At this point, you must run away.

"Fortunately, it won't spread."

Perturabo looked at the empty theater, now only occupied by Kelly Fanny, and thought to himself with a sense of helplessness.

(It has already been photographed)

(Hundreds of millions of copies will soon be made, ready for billions of people throughout the universe to enjoy at any time)

“Abo, you’re finally not so stubborn anymore.”

Kelly Fanny wiped away the tears from the corner of her eyes, as if she still had something to say.

But just then, the cast iron gate that had been closed was pushed open again, as if the brothers and sisters who wanted to see more gossip had returned.

This infuriated Peturabo even more.

"roll!!!"

"Get out of here! All of you, get out of here!!!"

With his back to the door, Peturabo let out the loudest roar he could muster in his life.

But the brightness seems a bit off?

He suddenly saw a golden giant figure, accompanied by a troop of equally golden Imperial Guards, enter the theater, looking at him with astonishment as he was still angry.

"child?"

he asked doubtfully.

Peturabo will never howl again.

Chapter 171 Burning

That was the last time you found him.

He was in a good mood at the moment.

Holy Terra is about to achieve a reunification after a thousand years of waiting. What could possibly make him unhappy?

"You are getting weaker and weaker, my friend."

His eyes revealed concern, and he still held great respect for a prophet who had guided him countless years ago.

Despite their different races.

He's right.

Over the course of time, all living beings have gradually forgotten the silent presence that sits on the throne, never uttering a word.

My own existence is becoming increasingly weak.

Today, no one remembers that there was once a heroic leader who shielded them from vicious forces they had never encountered before.

When everything is settled and all that remains is the endless enjoyment to be experienced, no one will waste time on something so trivial.

Under increasingly intense sensory stimulation, they lost—[faith].

The lives of the Eldar in the future will be richer and more colorful. With endless time and power, they will have endless sensory experiences that are unimaginable to any intelligent being.

But at the same time, having lost their faith, they will only be left with a journey to pursue stronger and more intense sensory stimulation, and will fall into an even stronger and more intense vortex of nothingness, repeating this cycle until they face true death.

When existing stimuli can no longer awaken their senses, they will seek new stimuli in places they had never thought of before—finding pleasure among their own kind, and among intelligent beings like humans.

As more and more slave-hunting fleets expanded outward from all parts of the empire, they needed to find new sacrifices to satisfy their insatiable and perverse desires.

"It was neither the power of chaos nor the annihilation of alien races."

"We lost to ourselves; we were all corrupted by ourselves."

"Without ideals and beliefs, there is only the path to destruction."

That broken soul struggled to tell him about its grief.

And he listened quietly.

He could sense that his old friend was undergoing an unimaginable and terrifying transformation—under the influence and sway of the will of countless fallen beings, he was rapidly rushing toward some unimaginable existence.

The endless nothingness that seeks sensory stimulation is constantly gnawing at and eroding his body.

Deep within the sea of ​​souls, under the suppression he maintained with all his might, something indescribable was churning and surging, seemingly about to break free of its cocoon.

A demon.

Not just one, but four.

Together with the three demons that had once been suppressed beneath the throne of the Burning Pyramid, they were attempting to take this opportunity to break free of their restraints.

They have been trapped for a long time.

Despite their many disagreements, they can unite and cooperate from within when faced with their only enemy, even the most vile and despicable demons.

"My people have lived in peace for so long that they do not consider these evil creatures of the High Heaven to be terrifying and abhorrent."

This kind of restraint on chaotic demons is simply hindering their novelty and excitement in reaching chaos, and it is something that deserves to be erased and destroyed.

"They don't know what the future holds for them either."

"They'll suffer."

He listened in silence for a while before speaking.

Perhaps in the future, more evil beings will appear to challenge him and humanity.

But he was not afraid.

Because he is—the Emperor of Mankind.

He had made up his mind to protect everything humankind, and he was no longer afraid of any obstacles.

"Are you here to warn me to watch out for them?"

The threat of chaos was ever-present, and he understood this from the very beginning.

"Thank you for your help, but I have more pressing things to do right now."

He nodded slightly in respect to the weak and broken soul.

What will you do after you've completed the war of unification?

“Me? I will help my suffering brethren on Holy Terra to stand up again.”

"In this way, we will restore our former glory."

Holy Terra is about to be unified.

This world, ravaged by war and with its oceans evaporated, needs him to spend ten or a hundred years saving, transforming, and restoring it.

The people suffering in this land desperately need his help.