How can a retired savior be considered retired if his price drops to 40,000?

Chapter 303 Who are you?

The dead whispered to him: You are but a poor imitation of me, made by Fabius.

The clones turned a deaf ear to this.

This voice might have come from his own imagination, or it might have been implanted in his mind by some strange force. The clone could not accurately distinguish between the two, and even if he could find out, the answer would not help him in the current situation. So he simply ignored it and just followed the wheel tracks, step by step, back to the way he came.

This voice that had been following him since he broke free from the stasis field was not only negative. At least, when "Prototype No. 1" was moving aimlessly and endlessly in the Gobi Desert, it was this voice that told him why:
Unlike the material world, the High Heaven is idealistic. Time, distance and direction have no meaning here. Only firm determination can lead travelers to their final goal - that is to say, as long as anyone on this car has doubts about your so-called "trial", you will always have to waste time on this infinitely extending plain.

Perhaps in the warp, time is indeed meaningless. The clone did not take action immediately after hearing this argument. In his subjective experience, he had spent several days trying to determine this through calculations. He sat in the two seats at the end of the cabin, which did not prevent him from looking across the entire cabin and reading the readings on the instrument panel without any obstacles. The complex and unfamiliar units and symbols did confuse him for a while, but as the Primarch, he quickly understood their meaning through some clues in the operation of the vehicle, and after a few hours, he was convinced that the physical parameters on the plain where they were were changing all the time.

After realizing this, he immediately discovered that Gabriel Santo was trying to find a pattern from these changes, but he was not optimistic about this because he had tried to do the same thing and failed. Regardless of whether Fabius's cloning technology could match the Emperor's greatest and most sophisticated creations, his brain was still more sophisticated and faster than the Cogitator array installed on "Prototype No. 1". For a few minutes, he even tried to predict what readings would appear on the dashboard next based on the vibration of the cabin. After discovering that his predictions were all accurate, he quickly lost interest in it.

The clone repeatedly checked the calculations under the stare of the empty eye sockets of the Thinker Array, and finally convinced himself that there was no point in continuing to move forward. In essence, it was just a way of creating an illusion that "we are still trying to solve the problem". Therefore, after a few days, he stopped the wheel track of the vehicle and left the two Astartes who followed him for different reasons, and embarked on this journey that belonged only to him alone.

And in this journey that should have belonged to him alone, he still had an annoying travel companion.

You should at least bring Akuldona. The voice of the dead man haunted his mind through some medium other than air. Thinking back to the past, I liked him so much. This was a major event in life, and he was certainly qualified to participate.

The clone still said nothing, but his mind was indeed disturbed by these words that appeared out of thin air, just like he finally decided after he had no other choice that he could follow the suggestion that appeared in his mind and leave the vehicle. Time, distance and direction are not important, and there is no essential difference whether he moves forward by vehicle or by legs. According to this theory of "the Supreme God is idealistic", as long as his will is strong enough and he is sure that he wants to face this trial, then he will find his goal.

He could see that the two Astartes traveling with him did not want this so-called "trial" to come true - Gabriel Santo did not trust the outsider who suddenly appeared and proposed this inexplicably, and he did not care about "what will happen to the clone in the future", and even hoped that he would die in a place where no one knew; while Akurdona, Akurdona was seriously worried about him, and did not want him to get hurt or encounter an accident, and even more did not want him to fall into some disturbing conspiracy of some subspace entity.

This is where things become absurd: the Iron Hands, who were indifferent to him, were essentially indifferent to their own future, and Akurdona's sincere concern blocked the only way out of this invisible infinite loop. The voices of the dead laughed and praised this farce in the clone's mind, but the clone still said nothing.

He didn't say anything, but he was thinking. Not only was he thinking about every word the dead man said to him, but he was also thinking about every word Akuldona said and every word Gabriel Santo said. He didn't want to think like this, but he couldn't stop - it seemed to be an instinct for him, at least after he got out of the stasis field, he soon found that he couldn't stop thinking like this.

I cannot stop trying to unravel the deep causes and theoretical thinking from the surface of reality, I cannot stop discovering the irrationality and absurdity from the most common scenes, and extending meaningless thinking from the absurdity, I cannot stop transcending the tangible things to metaphysical thinking, I cannot stop looking down from the metaphysical dimension and explaining everything that happens in the tangible world.

He gained a lot of insight, both helpful and harmful. The clone wanted to stop, his consciousness was clamoring for rest due to the excessive information, but he couldn't stop - even at this moment, the voice of the dead still echoed in his mind: Do you really think you are ready?

The clone still didn't reply, but he couldn't help but think along with the other party's question: Am I really ready?

He thought so, but now he was not sure. Time in the subspace might be different for everyone, just like Akurdona thought they had only traveled a few hours on the vehicle, but in the clone's perception, they had been moving day and night for several days. At this moment, he also felt that he had been walking along the track left by "Prototype No. 1" for several days in extreme boredom, but this only road with a landmark still stubbornly stretched forward.

Sometimes he wondered if it had really been that long. Sometimes he felt like he had been walking on the same road for a hundred years. The scenery around him was unchanged, with similar stones scattered all over the sand, which even made the clone doubt whether he was really moving forward.

But he still moved his legs mechanically, and at the same time asked himself: Am I really ready?
The voice of the dead rang out again: You can see many things happening around you, but you can't see your own heart. This is normal, because your heart and soul do not belong to you, so how can you understand the subtle and mysterious thoughts and ideas in them?

The clone finally couldn't stand it anymore, and he roared to the wilderness: "My heart and soul belong to me! Everything I think and feel originates from my mind!"

Then he heard the dead man's soft and slightly dull laughter, like a silver bell, wrapped in gauze: So where do you think I was talking to you?
"You are dead." The clone announced to the empty surroundings, "You are an echo, a remnant of evil left in the warp, a resentment and unwillingness projected onto me for some reason, the last struggle and curse of an imperfect loser. You are nothing more than this, nothing more."

No. Retorted the voice of the dead. I am you, just as you will become me.

"I will never stoop to this!" the clone said - more like to himself, "I will do what you have failed to do. I will polish everything to perfection. I will wash away the bad reputation of the Legion after it went astray. I will -"

You will return to the Silver Palace. The dead man's vicious voice is like a snake hissing in the clone's ear. I am glad to see that you think so, because - you know, I used to think so too. Fabius is right. He knows that you and I are too much alike, your fate is linked to mine: you are a near-perfect replica of me, and therefore you can only tread the path I once walked. Admit it, you are me.

The clone said: "I will never follow your old path. I will be more worthy of the name 'Fulgrim' than you!" But Fulgrim is me.

The dead man's voice was filled with suppressed laughter, and the clone, annoyed by this, said: "I will be Fulgrim, but I will never be you!"

The dead man did not respond. His last voice faded away in a burst of laughter, dissolving into the clone's mind. It was as if such a voice had never appeared.

The clone ignored the other and once again embarked on this seemingly endless journey. Perhaps something was wrong, but he didn't realize it. He followed the ruts in the barren Gobi Desert, forward, forward, and forward. The only man-made mark on the sandy plain was endless, even if he walked for days, weeks, months, and years, it would still be the same, as if he would never see the end.

The clone's unstoppable thoughts gradually became exhausted over a long period of time. There was no new information around him that could provide him with new answers. In the unchanging scenery and monotonous walking, the clone even began to miss the voice of the dead. But that voice did not appear again, just as it did not care about the clone's will when it appeared.

The huge thought could not be placed, forcing him to start exploring the barren heart that he was created to be. Finally, the clone had to start facing the question he had to face: Who am I?
This question had a clear answer before the long journey began: Fulgrim. The clone would answer himself. He was Fulgrim, a Fulgrim who was more perfect than the corrupted Fulgrim. And now? He didn't know.

Akuldona's voice echoed in his memory: The real Fulgrim never had to prove that he was called that name! Didn't you realize that from the moment you said this, you already realized that you are not "Fulgrim" at all!
The original Fulgrim was corrupted, but he was still on the path to perfection. The clone thought. He had heard and remembered Akultuna's statement that there was no such thing as perfect perfection, but he refused to admit it. He believed that he was determined enough to prove that he was perfect beyond the original Fulgrim - starting with this trial that seemed to never begin.

The clone didn't know how long he had been walking in the wilderness. He only realized that the color of his once gorgeous armor had been eroded by the occasional wind and sand. For a while, he doubted whether the view of the dead man whispering to him that "the subspace is idealistic" was a lie. For another time, he doubted that this endless and boring progress was the test he needed to face. Walking in the wilderness did not bring him any sudden enlightenment or philosophy of life, but only boredom, fatigue, hunger, and repeated doubts about himself.

But the clone still gritted his teeth and walked forward, one hand always resting on the slender and ornate ceremonial sword at his waist. The person who decorated him with this outfit may have regarded him as a gorgeous ornament with only appearance, but in this seemingly meaningless action, the viewer can finally glimpse a bit of the essence of a warrior - that is part of the essence of Fulgrim forged by the Emperor through biological alchemy, and Fabius has restored this point in the clone with his own skills.

He didn't know how long he had been moving forward in this posture amidst the intermittent sandstorms in the Gobi Desert. He did feel tired and thirsty, but perhaps it was because his body, which was similar to that of his original body, had unparalleled performance, or perhaps it was because of some special feature of the warp. In short, these negative states that had accumulated to the point where they could kill a mortal hundreds or thousands of times did not affect his ability to move too much. Finally, after a certain dust storm, another shadow finally appeared on the other side of the horizon.

The clone was encouraged by this discovery, but the necessary caution did not disappear from his mind. He did not quickly run towards the only different thing in the wilderness, even though he wanted to do so very much. He stood still and assessed the other person's and his own conditions as detailed as possible: he had not eaten or drunk for a long time, but this did not seem to have any effect on his athletic ability; his reaction ability might have been worn down by long-term boring mechanical work, but he thought he could adjust it quickly; the shadow on the other side of the horizon was roughly a human figure, he did not know what it was, but anyway, he really needed to take a look.

After confirming all of the above, the clone turned again, left the edge of the rut, and slowly walked towards the black shadow on the horizon.

He walked like this for a while, and then realized that the other party was also coming towards him. After a while, the distance between them was obviously getting closer. The clone was not sure how the other party would react when they really met, but these doubts did not stop him from moving forward. After a while, he could already see that the other party was wrapped in a tattered dusty cloak whose original color could not be distinguished. He could roughly judge that it was a man based on the outline. When the distance between them was probably only a few hundred meters, the clone finally found that he and the other party were somewhat similar in shape in this desert with a lack of reference points.

This made the clone stop in doubt, staring at the giant opposite who also looked over three meters tall in confusion, and put his hand on the hilt of the sword, asking loudly: "Who are you?"

He could have said more, been more polite, and behaved more appropriately, but the clone hadn't had water for a long time. His voice was cracked by a dry cough, and the vibration of his vocal cords made his throat taste bloody because of this question. The current situation forced him to convey his information as efficiently as possible, and made his torn voice unrecognizable even to acquaintances.

But the man in the cloak stopped as if struck by lightning the moment the sound arrived. He obviously recognized something.

This unexpected development increased the suspicion in the clone's heart. He realized that something bad was about to happen, so he drew out the decorative sword at his waist - it was just a thin piece of ordinary iron, only plated with a layer of refined gold, and the structure was obviously not suitable for chopping and slashing. In terms of practicality, it would even be crushed by training equipment - and at this moment, the person opposite had already crossed the last few hundred meters between the two of them in a very short time, and crushed towards the clone like some kind of angry siege weapon.

As expected by no one, at the same time as the first sound of metal clashing, the rapier in the clone's hand broke in the middle. The murder weapon was a piece of hard stone tied to the arm by a simple and crude structure that could not even be called "mechanical", which was essentially no different from the countless stones scattered in the Gobi Desert. This murderous stone was originally smashed down on the clone's head without hesitation, and under the latter's instinctive and rapid counterattack, the ceremonial rapier broke and the fragile "rope" that fixed it was also cut in half.

When the clone realized that the stone was shaky, he also realized that it was not a "stone tied to the arm" but a "stone replacing the missing forearm". He did not give up the broken sword in his hand, but tried to cut the other half of the "rope" that fixed the stone with the remaining sharp edge. While maneuvering between retreating and stepping forward, he asked again: "Who are you?"

Then, he saw an old and haggard face hidden under the gray cloak:

"I am Rogal Dorn!"

The face replied with a fury that did not match its aged appearance.

(End of this chapter)