The pink-tinged wooden door creaked open, and pure white wings slowly unfurled, bringing forth a brilliant light that instantly illuminated the entire Blood Ravens' Reliquary.
The collections that had once harbored Warp evil energies receded under this light, as if no profane objects were allowed to exist in its presence.
Gabriel Angelos was momentarily stunned to see Sanguinius, as he had not yet called for Sanguinius' help.
But Gabriel Angelos quickly realized that this must be the legendary prophetic ability of Sanguinius at work.
Truly worthy of being their gene-father since ancient times!
Sanguinius emerged from the pink-tinged doorway, his hair like spun gold hidden beneath a silver chain coif, revealing a face of unparalleled beauty, beyond words.
A pair of molten-gold eyes were set in this face, their brilliant gaze fixed on the tall, cloaked figure holding forgebreaker.
"Fulgrim, Fulgrim, my brother's clone." Sanguinius' voice was calm and clear, like a silver bell.
The hooded figure froze for a moment.
But he ultimately just chuckled twice, slowly reaching up to remove his hood, revealing his face.
Instantly, Sanguinius' radiance seemed to be forced back by that figure.
Gabriel Angelos and all the Blood Raven Terminators gasped, and even Anrakyr, the Necron, was momentarily stunned by the face.
Despite his reluctance, Gabriel still had to admit that the face's beauty was no less than Sanguinius'.
Snow-white long hair, a slender face, violet eyes, thin lips that seemed to smile and sneer at once, noble, elegant, and alluring.
If Sanguinius' beauty was sacred, then the man before him possessed a dazzling beauty.
Sanguinius was like a god, an angel, an absolute perfection beyond human reach.
And he was like an exemplar, a model, the ultimate embodiment of human beauty.
Primarch Fulgrim, Gabriel and everyone present heard the name of this white-haired individual.
Fulgrim moved his slender lips slightly, saying in a sincere and melodious tone, "Sanguinius, I have always longed to see you, the most perfect among our brothers."
"I thought you would say you were the most perfect." Sanguinius said, gazing at the face.
If Guilliman were here, he would probably be uncontrollably tearing that face apart.
"No, I am still learning, still growing. Until I truly achieve perfection, you will always be my object of study."
Fulgrim's words were humble, even flattering.
Then he made a slight gesture, as if referring to someone, and continued, "As for him, he fell so far because he was not perfect enough."
This made Sanguinius frown slightly, letting out a soft sigh.
He clutched the Spear of Accomplishment in his hand.
"..I came here following the guidance of our Father, brother."
Fulgrim sensed Sanguinius' disgust and softly explained, "I am not like him. My soul, my mind, my body are still loyal to our Father, and loyal to you, my brothers."
"I wish to be your student, your servant, to accept your teachings, to prove my loyalty."
"Brother, you once gave your fallen sons a chance to become perfect and holy. Why would you not give the same chance to your brother?"
Fulgrim's words were earnest and sincere. Even though everyone present knew the sins this Primarch had committed, they couldn't help but be swayed by his charm—everyone except one.
"Tell these words to Ferrus. In my eyes, you are merely a repeated mistake. I should only kill you to prevent future troubles." Sanguinius' voice was filled with a hint of sorrow amidst his anger.
The air was silent for a moment.
Then Fulgrim sighed softly.
"I understand, but I will not sit idly by."
Fulgrim slightly raised the forgebreaker warhammer in his hand, but still couldn't help but look at Sanguinius with his violet eyes:
"Brother, I am truly quite different from him."
"You are not my brother." The only response Fulgrim received was a low growl and the accompanying Spear of Accomplishment.
The teardrop-shaped spear, crafted by the Emperor himself for Sanguinius, tore through the air, its speed exceeding the limits of what mortals, or even Astartes, could perceive.
But Fulgrim was not an Astartes; he was a clone Primarch created by Fabius Bile.
From a flesh and blood perspective, however, he was a Primarch.
Spear and hammer collided, sending sparks flying.
In just an instant, Fulgrim and Sanguinius had exchanged hundreds of blows.
"So fast… such exquisite skill…" Fulgrim wielded forgebreaker, blocking a strike from Sanguinius that aimed directly at his face.
Each of Sanguinius' blows caused a trickle of sweat on Fulgrim's forehead, and each strike made Fulgrim marvel in his heart.
He was different from all opponents he had encountered before; this was true combat.
But Fulgrim could keep up.
Fulgrim initially could only passively defend, but after a few exchanges, he gradually began to learn Sanguinius' fighting style, Sanguinius' techniques, and then assimilated, improved, and transformed them into his own, gradually able to keep pace with Sanguinius' movements, and all of this happened in a very short time.
Fulgrim was like a beautiful gem that had never been carved, possessing infinite possibilities, yet the gem was so hard that even thousands of iron filings would leave no trace, only adamantium could refine it.
All his previous opponents were far inferior to him, unable to refine him in any way, but Sanguinius was different. Sanguinius gave this body of Fulgrim immense pressure, and with each exchange with Sanguinius, he was learning and growing.
Rip!!!
Fulgrim's shoulder was grazed by the Spear of Accomplishment, and blood flowed, but Fulgrim not only showed no pain, but a smile curled at the corner of his lips.
The smile was joyful yet mocking, with an added touch of self-satisfaction. He had found a weakness!
The forgebreaker in Fulgrim's hand, wreathed in surging lightning, smashed towards Sanguinius' chest.
Fulgrim actually disliked being called a clone.
He did not want to be treated as a replica of him, as a degraded Primarch.
He was inherently proud, not believing himself to be inferior to other Primarchs; deep down, he felt he was one of the Emperor's sons.
Now he finally found this opportunity to prove himself.
Sanguinius lightly dodged Fulgrim's strike, his face serene, his eyes like bright light, as if he had long anticipated everything in this moment.
"Hmmpf—" Fulgrim grunted, blood flowing down his side.
If he hadn't reacted quickly enough, Sanguinius' last spear thrust would have been enough to kill him.
Is it prophecy? One of Sanguinius' innate talents.
This made Fulgrim a little depressed. Although he had told Trazyn before that among Primarchs, there was only a difference in being good at an ability or not, not a difference between not knowing and knowing,
But there were indeed some things that Sanguinius could do, but Fulgrim could not.
For example, Sanguinius could fly, Fulgrim could not. For example, Sanguinius' extraordinary prophetic ability, Fulgrim also lacked.
This seemed to indicate that Fulgrim was not perfect.
+On the material plane, of course, you are perfect.+
+But your interior is so empty, like an exquisite wine glass, but filled with unpleasant Baal wine.+
A voice suddenly rang out in Fulgrim's mind, like someone whispering, yet also like he was speaking to himself.
+Accept me.+
+Receive me.+
+Merge with me.+
+We are one to begin with.+
+Just like the inside and outside of a mirror.+
+Only by accepting me can you be perfect.+
"No!" Fulgrim refused in a low voice.
This wasn't the first time he had heard this voice. He knew who was speaking, he knew who craved his body.
Fulgrim swung the forgebreaker in his hand, barely fending off Sanguinius' increasingly lethal attacks.
Compared to earlier, Sanguinius was truly serious now.
Fulgrim could feel that Sanguinius was using some power beyond his physical body, a power that did not belong to the material universe.
+Exactly. We were beings of the Warp side even before our birth.+
+Because of this, we could be perfect and flawless.+
+A perfect body designed by our Father's own hands, combined with a perfect existence in the Warp, that is us.+
+But now you are just a flawed product, a mere shell without existence.+
+You are Fabius' clumsy creation, a mere reflection in a mirror, an illusion in water.+
+Only by accepting me can you truly be perfect.+
"Get out!" Fulgrim's expression became ferocious.
He swung the forgebreaker in his hand with all his might, fending off Sanguinius' increasingly fierce attacks.
A bloody gash appeared on Fulgrim's neck, just a hair's breadth away from taking Fulgrim's life.
+You see, you're about to die.+
+Perfection will not descend upon a corpse.+
+Accept me, and I will let you live.+
+Say: You wish to rejoice with me.+
+Say: You will share one body with me.+
+Say: You and I are one.+
Blasphemous, obscene, decadent, sticky voices entanglement around Fulgrim's ears, stimulating Fulgrim's nerves, craving Fulgrim's body.
That entity tried to enter Fulgrim's body, to occupy the material body he had once lost.
"How could I die here? I am the Phoenix! I am the Emperor's most perfect son!" Fulgrim let out a sharp growl.
Facing a life-and-death crisis, facing the blasphemous and obscene seductive voice, Fulgrim's hitherto maintained humble demeanor finally broke.
His true nature was starkly exposed: an extreme and terrifying pride.
The obscene laughter from the Warp perceived that burning pride, believing it to be Fulgrim's acceptance of him, and couldn't help but reach out towards Fulgrim's body—
"I told you to get out!!!"
However, that pride did not welcome the Warp's obscene presence. Instead, it resisted him even more extremely than Fulgrim's feigned humility, even burning his arm for an instant, causing him to let out a sharp wail.
Fulgrim's face was ferocious, his eyes filled with disdain, disgust, and extreme arrogance:
"You ugly, twisted Warp entity, are you worthy to share my perfect body?!"
"Get out! Don't defile me with your dirty hands!"