Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 507 Phoenix in the Mirror (4)

"Have I deceived you?" Fulgrim trembled.

Darkness, do you think that this can shake me? Do you think that my heart will tremble in uneasiness? I am sure that I was wrong in one thing. This last step was not taken by Ferrus for his offspring.

But will this make me feel guilty? Will this make me fail? No, it won't... never...

“You would never deceive me, and I would never mistake you. You are the Emperor’s Son, the noble Eagle, the purple phoenix,” Ferrus said. “It was I who took the wrong step and fell into the trap of his anger.”

"You remember, my brother. Since when?" Fulgrim tried to calm his tone, but could not hide the bitterness.

"When its blood fell on you, I could see myself intermittently. If you let me return to myself, I can stop the maze from changing. This is my mistake, and I will make up for it."

The echo laughed faintly... Tieshi was deceived and Zifeng was sad. He came to save her with a burning heart. He was willing to return to the dark place for his brother, but he heard the wind crying deeply...

"Shut up!" Fulgrim snapped at whichever Dark God was chuckling. Did it think this would sway him, or did it simply find the spectacle entertaining?

"Ok?"

"Not you, Ferrus. Then go, and I will use my flames to steady your mind. May this hold us together longer! Yes, it has returned."

In just a few words, the mechanical monster reappeared from the shadows and gradually approached them. The entire maze space continued to turbulent and squeeze, and Fulgrim reached out and grabbed a hanging chain to stabilize his center of gravity. He really didn't have much strength left.

"Your power is wanted here, Fulgrim. You must not continue to lose..."

"Why can't I? I've let you go completely. How can you promise that you can wake up again? If you say one more word to me, I will never think of you again on the Feast of Ferrus' Ascension!"

Ferrus's laughter was like a chorus of iron and steel. "Are you really going to hold this festival for me?"

"Ask again?"

"Then you will help me, but you must make sure you stay alive, Fulgrim. I am not here to be sacrificed, and I will not waste your efforts. But I know that if one of us survives, we can always save the other. My existence has rusted, but your wings can still grow."

"That's enough. I understand. Speak less. You are using my strength to speak." Fulgrim said, gritting his teeth. "What should I do?"

"Get closer to it and fix the relative position—"

Fulgrim rushed forward, almost catching the machine off guard. The mirror-like metal spikes on the machine's body instantly pierced his body, as if he himself had melted into the mirror.

At the same time, he felt the cold feeling on half of his cheek fade away like running water in an instant, and his legs and one arm that he had reconstructed in the spiritual world with living metal turned into smoke and dissipated.

Ferrus took action.

He thrust his remaining hand with the sword into the mechanical body, and the mechanical structure immediately stretched out its appendages impatiently, locking Fulgrim in a cage of steel thorns. The blade began to retract, and Fulgrim still felt no pain, only a strange touch, that was the feeling of the medium of existence in his body overflowing.

He held the mechanical heart formed by the reorganization of gears and watched the flames on his fingers, casting blood-red shadows on every broken silver surface inside the machine.

Ferrus can do it.

"Are you ready?" he asked loudly.

The sound echoed in the continuously changing mechanical space, like a drop of red ink falling into a dull pool of water, without causing any echo.

Fulgrim had fastened himself to the mechanical body, unable to move except in this way. The fire burned down fiercely, reducing the last few bodies that had clung to the machine to ash. Now, all that remained connected to him was the pure machine itself, threatening each other, locking each other.

When the change in space created a hole under their feet, the dark depths below opened up to them.

The fall began.

…The deep love and affection become a joke, and a foolish act destroys oneself. The voices of calling back and forth are mournful, but who knew that love would turn into sorrow. Both of them have fallen and have no way out, and they return in tears as fate teases them…

Phoenix did not listen to a word, letting the inanimate things in the darkness laugh. The beetle-like sounds and the clanging of pincers hidden in the shadows were no more piercing to him than the whistling of the wind.

He grasped the machine and fell down, his mind searching for the existence of Ferrus, and gathered the fuel-like will from somewhere, making the flames burn even more.

…He and the machine were like a ball of firewood wrapped in an iron net. Flames rolled out from every joint of the machine's limbs, surging upward with the airflow, rising higher and higher, gradually leaving behind a tail-feather-like afterimage.

In the weightless environment, Fulgrim called out again: "All right, Ferrus!"

The thorns pierced through his inner being, his spiritual mind... The invisible force tightly grasped his soul, suspending him between life and death... He still felt no pain, but the cold touch became more and more obvious. For a moment, he thought that he had assimilated with this mechanical body and became a part of it - a part that could no longer be separated. The spikes continued to penetrate his body, approaching his heart...

"Ferus..." There was an almost pleading tone in his voice.

The thorns barely stopped, hovering on the edge of his heart, as if the final blow was only waiting for the slightest tremor of fate to fall. However, it froze there and would not move forward.

Time was forcibly pulled away, frozen at the moment when the original body's heartbeat was about to stop.

Fulgrim's hand still held the mechanical heart tightly, and the flame danced between his fingers, burning more and more fiercely as the speed of falling.

"Finished? No... not yet." Fulgrim murmured in a low voice, and the dark abyss seemed to slowly open up in his heart. His sanity began to burn. The firelight reflected on the mechanical inner walls around him. Countless silver surfaces reflected thousands of twisted and broken fires, and each reflection carried a blood-red weirdness.

Once again, the spike moved forward slightly, and the cold touch was so close that it could pierce his heart in the next moment.

A moment. A seemingly unexpected moment. A miraculous moment.

It stopped.

The mechanical structure lost all movement in an instant. All around was silent, only their fall continued.

The darkness was boundless, as if it would never end.

Fulgrim's voice was like a trembling flame in a violent wind: "Ferus! I feel it! Where are you?"

The fall accelerated, and each steel tentacle of the mechanical body wrapped more and more tightly around him, like an invisible chain, trapping him tightly. The flames surrounding him did not go out, but burned more and more fiercely... He waited for his response in the deep and silent roar.

"Ferus!" A low echo came, indistinguishable, slow and muffled, but to Fulgrim's ears it sounded so clear that it seemed meant for him alone.

When this voice sounded, his fall suddenly stopped. He was no longer swallowed by the darkness, but was supported by a gentle but cold force.

He and the machine sank into a tranquil silver lake, the surface of the lake as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the shattered mechanical body and the faded image of Fulgrim himself.

Wait. Ferrus Manus' voice echoed in his mind. This voice no longer entered through the ears of reality, but stirred directly in the depths of his consciousness. Their wills were directly connected in a way that transcended reality. It was as if after the mirror was broken, the two mirror images inside and outside the mirror finally completely touched each other, and even became one.

Their thoughts, their wills, their existences gradually merged.

At that moment, Fulgrim seemed to see Ferrus' eyes. They were no longer the cold and resolute eyes he remembered, but were filled with a complex emotion that was almost apologetic.

...A sharp cry of annoyance sounded in the distance, along with all kinds of trivial curses, such as failure, the cursed, the unreasonable Fifth Lord, the traitor of the Supreme Heaven, and even some nonsensical sighs, such as pure happiness, wonderful emotions, and so on.

They don't care about the noise. It's just that the outside world can't disturb what's inside them.

Wait, said Ferrus. I'm sorry for my impulsiveness.

"Isn't this a habit of yours?" Fulgrim said gently. "Is this the first time you've been so impulsive?"

I don't know. Ferrus's answer was a little hesitant, and it was obvious that he had not fully recovered his memory.

It seems that you haven't remembered everything yet. Do you need me to introduce you to each thing one by one, Ferrus Manus, Gorgon of Medusa? Do you need me to tell you how your Medusa chased your steps and how you governed your planet?

Good. Ferrus' voice calmed down.

And so, Fulgrim began to tell his story. He described to Ferrus his Medusa: iron and stone, cold and storm, endless challenges and icy impasses, every step he took was like a hammer hitting rock.

Medusa was his mirror, and he and the planet were of the same essence. Cold, cruel, and incomparably powerful. He conquered it - just as he conquered himself.

The entire mechanical labyrinth fell silent as Fulgrim spoke of a stormy time. Every leader is shaped by their world, and all are shaped by their fate. Medusa shaped Ferrus, just as Fulgrim was shaped by Chemos.

Perhaps emotions are always my flaw, Ferrus said suddenly, his tone thoughtful.

Oh, is this your conclusion? Without emotions, what do we exist for? I love my planet, my people, and my legion, and my planet, my people, and my legion return the same emotions to me. The fire in my heart is ignited by emotions. So is my self-confidence and pride.

Even so, my emotions still led me to make wrong judgments.

That's a question of your sanity! Fulgrim retorted mercilessly, with a firmness in his voice.

I understand what you mean, and I agree with you in part. When I saw the imitators who blasphemed you, I thought it was the curse of Medusa. Only I could deal with it, and my failure was because I was not strong enough to defeat it. Regardless, my anger still affected my judgment.

"Okay, I'll listen to you." Fulgrim chuckled. "In that case, now that we have fallen into this abyss, you will not argue with me about these things again, right?"

They chatted calmly, and Fulgrim did not discuss any complicated principles, but recounted with a nostalgic tone how Ferrus led the Legion to sweep across the galaxy. They recalled the hot flames of war and the twinkling stars, the unwavering decisions, the cold and precise art of war, and the delicate balance between destruction and alliance. The cruelty and decisiveness of each battle, the glory and price of each conquest, were all reproduced beautifully in Fulgrim's mouth.

They chatted together in the Silver Lake controlled by Ferrus, in the pure land supported by Fulgrim's fire, isolated from the interference of the outside world and bidding farewell to the threats in the darkness.

Deep in the small silver lake, they chatted about many odds and ends, lost in memories, Fulgrim's narration sometimes jumping to how they first met and how they competed in forging swords and hammers, and sometimes returning to the present, talking about how the Astronomican had dimmed, and how much they still had to do after the Warp returned to normal. They laughed, and sometimes they were sad.

"We are still trapped," Fulgrim sighed, "but at least there are no pursuers, and you are awake, and we have captured your being... your essence, your body. What is this? Well, I did my best, and you have me to thank."

Thank you. Ferrus responded calmly.

Fulgrim chuckled, recalling past events: "I told you that the Emperor saved me once. Although I am ashamed, perhaps we need to wait for him again."

Yes, you did. Will the Emperor come?

I believe Dorn will complete his mission. If even he is not trustworthy, who else can be relied on in this galaxy? Fulgrim thought for a moment and added, What do you think of him?

Not as high as you think of him, Ferrus admitted.

We all have something to learn from others. Fulgrim smiled and said with emotion.

You are right. Ferrus' voice was low and certain.

Until one moment...

There is a subtle change in the world, so familiar, even nostalgic.

The Golden Throne. Fulgrim whispered the name with a mixture of awe and hesitation.

The cold darkness poured into the Silver Lake, carrying a terrible force of destruction, competing with the power of the Warp that had deceived Ferrus to this point, brutal and tyrannical, irresistible, and could only be accepted. Another power of the Warp screamed in anger, cursing the "accursed", its language was not rhythmic, not even a sentence.

There was an unmistakable majesty to this incoming power, but there were subtle differences within it that made Fulgrim feel uneasy.

The Golden Throne, Ferrus affirmed, the Lord of Mankind to whom we have sworn allegiance.

Fulgrim was silent for a moment. This was the Emperor, the unshakable leader and his father. He had saved him once before, and now he came a second time, pushing aside the forces of the Warp and approaching them.

He should have looked forward to him with joy and thrown himself under his throne. But he hesitated.

What was he doubting? That great power? What was he rejecting? Was he questioning this cold power that was about to reach them?

"Is it the throne?" Ferrus asked again. "You are doubting, Fulgrim."

I don't know, it feels... it doesn't feel like the Emperor we remember, at least not completely.

I am indeed waiting for him. But if this is really the Emperor, why does he make us feel... so uneasy? But it is the Emperor's call. Are we deceived by the Warp and misunderstood, so that we dare not take the hand of the Golden Throne in time?

The Emperor… Ferrus said slowly. We have always been loyal to the Emperor.

(End of this chapter)