Warhammer Inquisitor

Chapter 644 Doomsday Storm: Lord of Plague

The Eastern Frontier of the Empire - Limit Star Field - Macragge Sector - Fons Silva Domain
The Fortitude is suspended in the void. As one of the current twin flagships of the Death Guard Legion, it is responsible for many missions and responsibilities. One of them is as the Son of Plague, the Primarch of the Death Legion, the former son of the Emperor Mo Tarion's flagship.

No one had ever asked, dared to ask Mortarion, if the Emperor was still his father these days, no, no one, and he still kept the statue of the Emperor in the flagship hall.

The entire Perseverance was wrapped in tumors and living tissue, and the once magnificent building was replaced by teeth, squirming flesh, and tentacles swinging around in the universe. It was suspended on the edge of the galaxy's light belt, like a living star Like a beast, a dirty beast.

Around it, more living warships surrounded him, guarding it at its center from Traitor Navies, Death Guard, and twisted greatships born directly from the Warp.

But inside the giant ship, inside the Fortitude, which is full of living tissue, filled with fungal stench, and poisonous fog, there is a complete cabin that can be called a miracle here. There are no living things here. The original steel walls, tables and chairs, and tapestries are still stored here.

It is very simple here, a chair made of iron, a bed, and a table, there is nothing left, the walls are bare, it looks like a prison cell.

But this is a restricted area on the entire battleship, no one dares to approach here without authorization, even the Astartes of the Death Guard, because this is the private cabin of the owner of this huge ship, Mortarion.

Ironically, although Mortarion's legions are insulated from the word "hygiene" but he himself is very close to the word "hygiene". There are no bloated pieces of flesh on his armor, no pustules and bugs lying on it. The dark green armor has been carefully adjusted.

Just like this cabin, the few furniture here are placed almost precisely. If you have been here ten thousand years ago, you will be surprised to find that everything here has not changed. Years have never changed, so is the music box.

Mortarion was sitting on an iron chair. He was sitting in front of the only window here. Unlike in the past, the Lord of Plague did not have those wings behind him. The huge moth-like wings shrank behind him and were absorbed by psionic energy. stand up.

In front of him, beyond the huge French windows, were the stars, but Mortarion was not looking at them, his attention was on the music box.

A soul was imprisoned in the crystal, he was shrouded in a sickly mist, his face was twisted and painful, he screamed, his voice was torn apart by the lightning in the mist, together with that face.

He kept being shattered and put back together again, each time causing varying degrees of pain, and the cycle never stopped, and it has been like this for 1 years.

"O Father, my true Father, you have taught me many things, but the one I am most proud of is pain."

"How is it? My dear father, have you felt the results of my studies? You will be proud of me, because I have studied well."

Mortarion smiled, a grim smile, that was his father, I mean, real father.

Many Primarchs never actually had the Emperor as their father, yes, he created them, but that was all, the true fathers of the Primarchs were those who raised them.

Some Primarchs are lucky. They have a good native family and a really good father, such as Guilliman. Every time he thinks of this, Mortarion feels an uncontrollable anger. Is it jealousy?Is this what mortals call jealousy?
No, he doesn't get jealous, it's pain, as he's learned from childhood.

Mortarion clenched the music box tightly, and the soul inside howled in pain, and the louder he screamed, the calmer Mortarion felt, and, yes, smiling.

"Oh, my dear father, my dear warlord, you are better than the fathers of those incompetent people, you have taught me too much, let me think about it, ruthlessness, suffering, torture and forbearance, ah too much, I Can’t even count them.”

"But in this, the most proud thing is the pain."

Mortarion touched the scar on his face, the terrifying scar on the pale skin, even if he became an extraordinary existence, the wound after Nurgle's darling still hadn't healed, no one knew it was really unhealed, Or was Mortarion left behind, a memorial?
Just like the music box in his hand, Mortarion clenched it again, and the lightning shattered the soul inside, tearing his arms and legs, making him scream for mercy in pain, but Mortarion's There is only a smile on the face.

"My good father, my good father, what a beautiful voice you have, I have brought you by my side, and throughout the universe, there will be no more beautiful existence than you."

"Lord Mortarion."

The hatch was opened, and a Death Guard Astartes stood at the door, Mortarion did not look back at him, but lifted the music box up, and then Starlight examined the soul he called his father more carefully.

"You interrupt my leisure, Narakus, and this is my favorite moment."

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I have something to report."

Narosius didn't enter the room, he didn't dare to step into it, unlike Mortarion, his armor was covered with pus, although he was one of the few people in the legion who didn't want to expose his inner self , cleaned and took care of itself, but the grace of Nurgle is still difficult to hold.

The loving father makes them sing and spread true love to all directions. This is not up to Narakus. He is the container of Nurgle.

So he didn't dare to step inside the door, as if he was afraid of polluting this clean place. No one knew what the consequences would be, because no one dared to do it. This was Mortarion's sanctuary, his private domain.

Since joining Nurgle's arms, Narakus has forgotten many things. He doesn't remember Mortarion's anger, but he doesn't want to know.

"Go ahead."

As Mortarion spoke, the soul in his hand screamed again. Narakus listened, but he did not remain silent. After thinking for a moment, he spoke slowly.

"The ancient mountain blues failed, it failed to defeat Guilliman."

"it's a pity."

As Mortarion said, he clenched the music box in his hand violently. The scream of the soul did not end quickly this time, but turned into a long roar, long and far-reaching like a never-ending symphony.

"But it's not surprising, my brother, although he is one of the worst fighters of all, he is my brother after all, you know? Narakus, we were brothers, we were. "

"Yes, my lord."

Naraku Hughes nodded silently. He didn't say a word. This is the iron law in the legion. Even if thousands of years have passed, the Death Guard is no longer what it used to be, but discipline, only discipline has survived these ten thousand years. And deeply engraved on everyone's corrupt heart.

And his master, after admiring the torn soul for a while, said slowly, "Did it get Guilliman's blood? Just a drop, just like I ordered."

"No, my lord, he didn't, his soul was...destroyed."

Narakus' words were replaced by screams, and the soul in the music box was completely shattered this time. He bid farewell with an unprecedented scream of pain, and then disappeared into the mist.

"He failed. Tell me, Narakus, what was the price of failure?"

"Death, my lord."

Narakus replied in a low voice, obviously not talking about himself, but he was still startled, he lowered his head and didn't dare to look directly at the pale figure, he got angry.

"Ah, lucky for him, his soul has completely dissipated and can't be found. Otherwise, I will let him experience the results of my studies."

Mortarion said that he restored the soul in the music box, and it reappeared in the box, but it was not good luck, because there was only a longer screaming journey waiting for him.

Mortarion put down the music box, and he slowly got up and looked at the Milky Way outside the window. There were no pupils in his thick, dark green eyes. They were pure eyes, which made people feel extremely frightened.

"He got the stele."

Mortarion said after a while, he let out a long breath, a layer of fungal spores formed on the glass in front of him between breaths, they collapsed quickly, and then followed the movement of Mortarion's fingers Touch all dead.

"I hate having my territory violated, but, I guess my brother loves guests, he always loves parties, always has been," Mortarion said in a low voice, smoke in his cloudy eyes, his hands pressed against the glass. Under the finger on the top, the glass cracked in an instant.

"At a packed banquet, he always has a lot of friends, too many, and now... let me help him sort it out."

"Go down, Narakus, and wait for my call."

"Yes, my lord."

Narakus retreated, leaving Mortarion in the room standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, he looked at Macragge shining in the night sky, "You never invited me to your banquet, brother, never. "

(End of this chapter)