Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

After the warp storm that swept across the entire galaxy arrived, the Chemos, deprived of external supplies, had to find a way to survive on these steel behemoths.

Pipelines used for producing steel have been converted into food production facilities, and metal refining facilities have been converted into water refining facilities.

It's difficult to use and very inefficient.

Fortunately, they are still alive.

All they could do was live.

Forget history, burn books.

Endless labor.

Everything on this planet serves the purpose of survival.

After many twists and turns, Fugrim finally stopped in front of a low, dilapidated gate.

Through the door opened by Fugrim, Kasgar saw the children whose colors were instantly illuminated.

"Sister Fugen!"

Cheers and jubilation filled the air as the dozen or so thin children living in the dark, cramped dormitory quickly gathered around.

They were all very young.

The reason is simple: as soon as they get a little older, they will have to work as child laborers in factories for sixteen hours a day.

These are all desperate measures taken by humankind in order to survive.

It was even said that the children's situation was worse before Fugrim arrived.

Fortunately, they still have the right to enjoy what little "wonderful" childhood remains.

It's time for Fugrim to tell stories to the children.

As for the content of the story, it comes from the picture book left to her by her adoptive parents, which records some colors that were never seen in the gloomy lives of the Chemos.

The pages are brittle and thin, but the ink is still vivid and lively.

Kasgar turned the book over and leaned over to look at a page. It was a picture of a warrior in purple armor fighting a Gorgon.

In addition, the book describes ancient gods and their luxurious meals.

Through her reading, the children understood for the first time that food, in addition to satisfying hunger, also has the concept of taste.

"Great!"

"I want to eat delicious starch bars too!"

But it seems they all interpreted it as starch bars with different flavors.

"Food is more than just starch bars."

Fugrim corrected him with a smile.

"Sister Fugen has made a decision!"

"When we grow up, they'll throw us a 'feast'!"

"You'll have access to an endless supply of pure water and an ever-growing supply of starch bars!"

"A banquet! Let's have a banquet!"

"They'll also show us plays! There will be a big, tall theater! Sister Fugen will sit in the theater and tell us the most wonderful and interesting stories!"

"Let's watch a play!"

"I want to see a play too!"

Young children are the most restless.

Fugrim's promise of the future has them jumping around excitedly in the house.

"Mr. Sherlock."

At this moment, Fugrim turned around and looked behind her. "Since you mentioned stars, you must know some legends from ancient times."

"Could you tell the story to the children, and to me as well?"

A story.

Casca fell into deep thought.

In his heart, he already knew the answer.

That's a story about the thousands of stars in the sky.

Beyond the dust storms of Chemos lies an endless expanse of azure sky.

And above the azure sky are countless stars of all sizes.

Each of them is the size of a Chemos; and each one is inhabited by countless humans.

But the humans living on these stars are not happy.

Some of them have planets with living environments just as bad as Chemos.

Some planets are habitable, but the people on them kill each other for their own benefit.

Other planets were invaded by villains, who killed all the humans who dared to resist, and the rest were subjected to their permanent enslavement.

Humanity was thus scattered among the stars.

They called out to each other in the darkness, but could no longer hear each other's reply.

Until a brave man stepped forward.

He used his wisdom to create flying mechanical birds, which carried seeds, and the wasteland was filled with flowers from then on.

He wrote books of truth with starlight, letting them guide the way forward, and helping lost people find their way home.

He used magic to conjure powerful angels to protect humanity, leaving the villains to slink away.

Finally, after he successfully lit up all the stars—

He allowed the mechanical bird, under the protection of angels, to carry countless healthy, happy, rational, and steadfast compatriots to meet.

Just like when they were still together ten thousand years ago, they communicate and sing in the same language.

People laughed and gathered together again.

The fairy tale has ended.

The children gradually drifted off into a sweet dream.

But he was the only one who never wanted to wake up.

“Mr. Sherlock, you are the first person besides my adoptive parents to mention stories from other planets.”

Fugrim smiled and gently wiped away the tears from the corners of Kasgar's eyes.

She knew her mission all along, deep down.

It led countless people out of the dark age of ignorance, allowing humanity to move back towards light, humanity, and wisdom.

This is her, the Primarch Fugrim, her innate goal.

Just like the hero in the Casgar story.

But she was unwilling to stir up further conflict over the fragile Chemos.

A political marriage with the ruler of Carax Fortress was the fastest way she could think of to improve the world.

However, she seemed to have overestimated the significance of ideals and the sky for the Chemos people.

Compared to Fugrim's perfect appearance and powerful strength, the allure of those "stars" that only exist in legends pales in comparison.

Whether there are countless beautiful lanterns in the sky that sometimes light up and sometimes dim is something no one cares about.

The same was true of the Sherlock men she encountered earlier.

In order to survive, the Chemos have forgotten far too much.

But today, she seems to have met a like-minded companion.

A person who remembers that art and beauty, ideals and dreams still exist.

She felt his passion.

“Mr. Casgar Sherlock.”

"Would you like to join me, just like in the story, to save Chemos, who has forgotten the stars above his head?"

She extended her hand, offering an olive branch to the young man before her.

And Casca always seems to give her an unexpected answer.

“No, Fugrim. Not just Chemos.”

Kaska reached out and gripped her hand tightly, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her, and remained silent for a long, long time.

Like countless foolish but persistent pioneers, he spoke after making a certain decision:

"The one I want to save is you."

And just like that, Casca's life was completely ruined.

Chapter 3 Sagittarius, the Gold Ring

Perhaps, Casca will die a terrible death.

Each of the Chaos Gods possesses extraordinary abilities and unique skills.

Slaanesh, the Dark Prince, was the most cunning and ruthless of them all.

His fighting spirit and patience amazed everyone; his various magical gadgets brought unexpected surprises.

In this cesspool of a world, having ideals is the most terrifying taboo for humanity.

Once a person has ideals and the fighting spirit to lead people out of this cesspool of a world, then what awaits him in the future is only the inevitable fate of failure.

Under the influence of the Chaos God, all beauty will eventually fade away, and all desires will eventually be distorted.

Humans can only live a life of mere survival forever.

Just like these Chemos people.

Warhammer is such a fucking world.

Even the most powerful human emperor could not change this outcome.

What can a mere mortal like him accomplish?

Casca already knew all this.

We are currently only in the 30K era, and the impact of warp space on reality is not yet strong.

He should be grateful for that.

If we abandon our ideals and ambitions here and get as far away from the original entity as possible, we might actually be able to break free from the control of the Chaos God.

Kaska can escape chaos and swim backstroke in a cesspool, but what about them?

Rellano.

Vespasian.

Carleon Zavin.

Sol Tavitz.

Akul Duna.

Solomon Demeter.

And then there was Fugrim before him, brimming with ideals and hopes.

What do they do?

Those loyalists who sacrificed their lives on the Istvaan III, those heroes who followed one after another for the future of humanity, those lost souls who were misled by the evil god's schemes and went astray.

What should they do?

"Forgrim. The one I must save is you."

Kasgar looked up at his opponent, his fighting spirit almost tangible, as if it had condensed into countless golden-red sparks.