Chapter 321: Mortarion Is Very Calm
A long, narrow tunnel—dark as the void, silent as if nothing existed at all.
Bang!
In an instant, fire flared in the passage, dust exploded upward, smoke rolled thick, and bone-white boots stepped out from the swirling haze. Flames licked at armor plates, and a strange gleam flickered along the edge of a scythe.
The Lord of Death strode into his battlefield. The Deathshroud and the Blank followed closely behind their Primarch.
Static crackled over the vox channel. Mortarion tilted slightly to the side—a missile screamed past him, bursting ahead and washing the tunnel in blinding light, scattering the gloom and illuminating their path forward.
The earlier tension of exploring the tunnels had long since vanished. With the Death Guard's Zero Company now fighting at full strength, the illusions they had encountered earlier were nothing more than childish tricks.
Mortarion's face remained expressionless as he approached the second gate. He paused briefly; the Blank received his signal. His warriors moved forward, planting the charges.
Boom!
Mortarion stepped directly through the blasted doorway. Ferrus Manus was there, leaning on his shattered Forgebreaker warhammer. At the Primarch's feet lay the corpse of a serpent-like monster—the desecrated body sprawled head-down on the stairs, while above it, on a high dais, sat an ornate chair, like a throne fit for a king.
From the moment the Lord of Death forced his way inside, everything in the illusion froze—except for the two Primarchs. The blood seeping from the corpse no longer spread.
Ferrus Manus seemed not to notice Mortarion's arrival. His back was still turned, his eyes fixed unblinking on the corpse.
The chamber stretched deep into darkness. Higher up, twenty-one statues stood silently, watching.
Once he confirmed there was no other threat in the room, Mortarion casually rested his left hand on the Lantern at his belt, the right gripping his scythe, Silence.
"My brother, candidate for Warmaster—can you return now to your battlefield in the desert?"
Only then did Ferrus Manus slowly turn around. Mortarion's grip tightened slightly on the scythe, ready for anything—
Ferrus turned fully. At least nothing strange was growing from his head, and his expression… showed signs of strain. The face that was usually cold and impassive now twitched with small, unnatural spasms.
Ferrus also assumed a ready stance, but when he saw Mortarion, he seemed to relax—just a little. His shoulders loosened unconsciously, though his body remained as taut as forged steel.
"Mortarion… you're here too?"
Ferrus's voice was cautious.
"Why wouldn't I be? But you, Ferrus—you were supposed to be with your sons in the desert. What are you doing in tunnels beneath a jungle?"
Mortarion's tone was laced with challenge, but it didn't spark Ferrus's usual anger. Instead, Ferrus hesitated, uncertainty clouding his face.
"I can't explain it to you clearly. This planet holds things beyond our understanding… I encountered two Aeldari. They… led me here. It was a failure in judgment."
Mortarion spoke dryly: "One with very pointed ears, and one with long fangs?"
"You met them too?"
Mortarion gave a low, rasping chuckle.
"Deceitful xenos… They dare not face me directly, they know I'd tear them apart. What I met was merely a coward's shadow, left behind to whisper lies."
Ferrus blinked stiffly, an awkward, almost foolish expression—one Mortarion swore Ferrus Manus would never show willingly, unless he truly was bewildered by something beyond his grasp.
Mortarion had seen this kind of thing before. He knew it well.
His gaze drifted past Ferrus, toward the serpent's corpse—but before he could study it, Ferrus shifted slightly, blocking his view.
A dangerous move—Mortarion narrowed his eyes, staring hard at Ferrus. Toxic fumes hissed from the vents of his mask.
Sensing Mortarion's suspicion, Ferrus spoke:
"Did they tell you anything? I mean, those Aeldari, their so-called prophecies."
Mortarion let out a dry, rasping laugh.
"My brother, the most useless and poisonous thing in this universe is prophecy—especially the prophecy of aliens. If you truly wish to chase such foolish visions of the future, I could direct you to our mad brother instead."
"Ferrus Manus, contender for Warmaster—I trust the one known for reason and efficiency among us would not be so easily shaken by a few words from xenos mouths?"
Mortarion thought his words had worked. Ferrus now looked alive again—that familiar fire of anger rekindled in his eyes.
"Mortarion, spare me your worthless sarcasm," Ferrus snapped.
"It wasn't only words. They showed me… certain possibilities."
Ferrus's voice trailed off. He recalled the serpent-creature's face—confusing, yet familiar. One Aeldari had urged him to change, while the other warned that iron would one day rust, and that he had already stepped upon the path of fate.
And then he saw it—destiny… Fulgrim… no…
No, that was only a cheap imitation, a malicious trick.
Yet as Ferrus thought of his dearest friend, the serpent-beast he had just fought began to overlap in his mind with that perfect, beautiful image.
No—Fulgrim possessed a sacred beauty. He was the first mottled shimmer upon marble statues at dawn, the first glint of cold light upon a watch-knight's blade at dusk. He was the holy ascetic, the faithful paladin—
—Rippling serpent scales shimmered under faint light; the unnaturally beautiful face smiled—a familiar smile. He looked at Ferrus, laughing softly as a pointed fingernail traced across Ferrus's throat.
"What is that behind you, Ferrus?"
Mortarion's cold voice snapped Ferrus out of his trance. He realized he had once again drifted down the river of his thoughts.
His lips moved twice, but no words came out.
He could clearly see Mortarion's rising suspicion. Ferrus should have been angry—but confusion clouded his mind instead.
He stood there, motionless, probably looking quite foolish.
"…A wretched monster," Ferrus said at last.
Then he saw Mortarion fall silent for a moment—the Lord of Death drew a grenade from his belt. A strange gesture.
"Forgive my presumption, but let me guess… Ferrus, did you see a familiar face in that monster—?!"
In the next instant, Ferrus realized he had already lunged at Mortarion, throwing a punch aimed straight at his face.
Mortarion, fully prepared, crushed the grenade in his palm and caught Ferrus's incoming fist in a crushing grip. Dust billowed between the two Primarchs.
"I'm right, aren't I, Ferrus?"
Beneath the hood, Mortarion's pale yellow eyes watched Ferrus with a half-smile—though the chill in his gaze was impossible to hide.
Ferrus released the tension in his arm, his mouth twitching stiffly.
"I'm not in my right mind right now, Mortarion. I'd rather you didn't try to provoke me—even if that's what you enjoy doing."
Mortarion gave a faint smile and let go of his grip, as if confirming that Ferrus was, for the moment, still sane.
"The Aeldari are ever deceitful. This isn't the place for talk—Vulkan and your sons are still waiting for us. We should move."
"But," Mortarion said slowly, "Would you mind letting me have a look at that monster behind you, my brother?"
Ferrus said nothing. He walked coldly to Mortarion's side, keeping him in his peripheral vision, watching carefully for the Lord of Death's reaction.
Mortarion turned his head. The serpent creature's face was tangled in matted hair and pooled blood, a grotesque mess—yet those unmistakable eyes still made it clear who it resembled.
Fulgrim?
Mortarion had never met Fulgrim in person, but he had seen his brother's portraits and statues—especially those brothers who loved to glorify themselves.
It was the answer he expected. Mortarion himself had seen such illusions—unforgettable, seared into his mind.
He parted his lips slightly.
"So, you and Fulgrim were close after all. I had, in fact, heard as much."
Ferrus's eyes went wide—clearly bewildered and shocked by Mortarion's calm response.
Mortarion spoke evenly, his tone steady as ever:
"Come. Let's go find Vulkan first. Time is short. For a candidate to the great Warmaster's mantle, experiencing something like this… there's no need to lose your composure."
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Note:
In case you were wondering, Mortarion saw his Daemon Prince form, while Ferrus saw Daemon Prince Fulgrim.
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