Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

“I have heard of your deeds, Azek Ahriman,” Saint Gilles said, nodding slightly at Ahriman. Ahriman could sense that her seemingly gentle eyes did not hold the kindness that was rumored. “You are also quite famous outside the Thousand Sons Legion.”

“My lord,” Ahriman replied humbly, “I will serve the Emperor and the Legion to the best of my ability.”

“Well then,” said Fugrim, “today looks set to be very significant, brother, shall we set off?”

As the perfect Primarch, she was very careful about her choice of words.

“Of course,” Magnus said. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

"We are all like that."

The winding tunnel continued to ascend, and they were nearing the summit.

The light on the pristine white walls shone even brighter, this extra brightness coming from a vaulted foyer where the basalt walls were as smooth as a mirror. There, servants carrying food and drinks awaited their arrival, and cushioned sofas lined the walls.

“This is the private rest room for later,” Saint Gilles said with a smile.

During this ascent, the three Primarchs spoke of past battles, glories, and experiences, but only within the safe zones of those bygone memories.

Any possibility that might have steered their conversation toward the meeting was subtly and skillfully deflected by Fugrim and Saint Gilles.

What are these guys hiding?!

Ahriman thought to himself.

He looked at Radoron in front of him and Casgar and his legion of soldiers behind him.

They were less like honor guards and more like jailers escorting prisoners.

Ahriman: "."

He is letting out a silent scream.

Doesn't Magnus think this is a big problem?

Was he overthinking it, or was Primarch Magnus really such an idiot that he couldn't even see such an obvious problem?

Both options seem terrible!

Ahriman's head was covered in sweat.

"We're here, brother. It's behind this door."

With that, Fugrim and Saint Gilles pushed open the heavy bronze door.

This is a magnificent hall carved out of the steep rock face of a volcano.

Before Magnus even entered, thousands of figures were already seated on the black benches, looking down at the crowd. Most of them were high-ranking imperial officials in long robes, but there were also some Astartes among them.

The floor of this amphitheater is made of polished black marble, inlaid with a huge golden eagle.

He knew everyone sitting in the front row.

Chancellor Macardo, Commander of the Imperial Guard Waldo, and General Kelboha, the forging general of Mars—these were the bureaucrats of the Empire.

At the bottom level of the amphitheater, numerous private boxes are suspended.

Each figure sat upright among them, but when looking at them, it was impossible to focus one's attention on them, and it was difficult to discern their height, body shape, or other physical characteristics.

Only numerous dim reflections, filled with distorted light.

Although there must have been people sitting in those private rooms, their figures were almost indistinguishable due to some kind of technological obscuring.

False face.

A covert concealment technique for maintaining one's identity in public.

Is it really necessary to use these things at a victory celebration banquet?

Magnus was puzzled, and he soon realized something was wrong, just as Ahriman had given up hope.

hiss.

Something's not quite right!

This was far too dull for a ceremony similar to Ulanno.

Even Magnus's brain noticed something was wrong.

Boom!

Suddenly, the bronze gate behind him slammed shut with a dull thud.

A moment of darkness engulfed Magnus.

Now, all he can feel is the golden light shooting straight towards him.

What did you do?

Magnus looked around, somewhat bewildered.

Finally, his gaze fell on the high platform at the very front.

The source of this golden light, the golden giant with a claw in one hand and a sword in the other, was now looking coldly at Magnus, who was being led forward by Fugrim and Saint Gilles.

"The trial begins."

Shocking! The Emperor's Net will achieve a major breakthrough with Magnus's help!

—Sounds of the Subspace