40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 852, Section 23: Interlude: The Cocktail Party (The End, 1.9 words)

Daylight on Duns A-2 is short, lasting only eight hours and forty minutes. It was only about three o'clock in the afternoon in Terra, and the sky had already darkened completely. However, the city's unique hazy light shone up at this moment, making the sky as bright as day.

Did any of the ancient people living in the distant past, who could only rely on torches for light, ever think of today? A visionary? Did this person ever gaze at the quiet village from their desk late at night, and then have a strange idea that is difficult to realize in the present, and then laugh it off without telling anyone?
Perhaps so. Perhaps there were indeed people who firmly believed that humanity could overcome everything through its own strength.

“At least I believe it,” said the man named Neos. “These are the best proof.”

He sat on the edge of the field, grabbed a handful of soil, and slowly rubbed it until the dry, black soil spread across his hands like paint.

He had a strange smile on his face, and his eyes were incredibly gentle, like a poor old farmer who had finally acquired his own land after a lifetime of hard work.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Father?” the other man asked.

He sat in a wheelchair, draped in a large brown robe that appeared out of nowhere, and looked very pale, as if he were seriously ill and about to die.

Nevertheless, his voice was so clear it was perplexing: a person suffering from illness could not and should not have such a firm voice.

The man he called his father did not answer the question. He simply stood up, sprinkled the soil, and then went behind the wheelchair, pushing it and leading him slowly along the ridge of the field.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the wheat and corn, two modified crops known as Ancient Terra, stretched themselves in the night air. Their shapes were beautiful, and although not yet fully ripe, they already brought smiles to one's face. Not far away, the farmers who owned this field were having lunch on their porches. The aroma of cooking meat mingled with the peaceful breeze, carrying their laughter with it.

"Father?" the person being pushed along asked.

“I am here. Why the rush, my son? By Terran time, today is still a long day.”

The weakened snake head finally laughed, but the laughter triggered a cough, and there was no kindness in the laughter.

Neos stopped, stretched out his hands, and placed them on his shoulders, silently offering a sense of calm strength.

Several minutes later, the coughing finally subsided, but the snake head remained silent, its lips tightly pressed together to prevent the smell of blood from escaping.

"Do you remember what the palace looked like when it was first built?" Neos suddenly asked.

“I remember,” said the last remaining snake head. “Back then, there were still people who resisted you.”

“Yes,” Neos sighed softly. “People have seen too many ambitious people who wave grand banners, so it’s only natural that they won’t believe me. Why should they believe a conqueror who is far more brutal than anyone else?”

The snake head was completely unmoved by these heartfelt words and even mocked them mercilessly.

"Aren't you?"

“I never said I wasn’t. I did want to bring Terra into an era of unification. But for me, conquest was just a means, not an end.”

Omega let out a cold chuckle. This time, he didn't cough, and his blood inevitably dissipated.

He said sharply, “You treat almost everyone the same thing—means, tools, replaceable parts, always have, Father. That’s how you’ve built a crude, massive, and unreliable system. But besides that, you’ve done something incredibly stupid.”

"What is it?" Neos asked.

"You've made yourself a link in the chain, a replaceable component. But ultimately, this system depends on you to exist. Every link in it, from top to bottom, can be changed, merged into other subsystems, or even eliminated, but you can't."

Neos listened silently, without getting angry, and even patted the snake's head on the shoulder with his right hand, signaling him to continue.

Omega gasped for breath, raised his hand to wipe the blood from his lips, and looked even weaker.

He spoke in a low voice.

"Do you truly understand what this face you've created, the face of an emperor, means to others? Can't you see the extent to which they worship you? Or perhaps you do see it, but simply choose not to deal with it now, thinking you'll handle it later, but you no longer have that chance. However, we didn't meet here to discuss these old, tired matters, did we?"

With that, the snake-headed man casually changed the subject. Perhaps out of pity, he didn't embarrass his father any further.

Neos's hand remained on the snake's head shoulder, his expression hidden in the darkness.

“Ask away,” the serpent-headed man said weakly but calmly. “I know what you want to ask: When did Alpharis die? To be honest, Father, I don’t know, but he didn’t die on Nostrama – I think Conrad probably told you that too.”

"Yes, he did."

"What did you say?"

“He suspected that Alpharis was not dead because the grief he felt when he killed him was not very strong, which was different from what Ruth and Leon had told him.”

Omega grinned, then spat out a vicious venom.

"Or perhaps it's just because he's a born monster, what do you think, Father? After all, he landed on Nostramore, which is more like hell than hell."

“You shouldn’t talk about your brother and his hometown like that.”

“Yes, though I’m telling the truth—we are all monsters, and Nostramore is indeed unworthy of hell,” Omega replied with a tone that could be described as contemptuous. “But what about you? You shouldn’t have made your sons do such things, much less bear such a cruel responsibility. You gave them the reason to do it, Father. You forced them to kill their own brothers with their own hands.”

Neos fell silent, and the snake head had only just begun; he had already forgotten the decision he had made ten seconds earlier.

"What you should never have done was to establish so-called insurance mechanisms before we were even formed. For example, the regret and sorrow after killing a brother, or the feeling of blood ties that surge when seeing each other."

The snake's head paused for a moment, and when it spoke again, its voice was extremely soft, as soft as a whisper in the wind.

"My God, what makes you think we need this ridiculous thing to remind us of these things? Do you think we're all born madmen who need a noose around our necks or we'll kill everyone and destroy everything in front of us?"

“I’ve been thinking about this all along, and I just can’t understand why you would do this. The only explanation is that you foresaw that we might be forced to separate, so you needed something like this to replace your education and guidance that never existed. You were worried that we would go astray.”

"So, did you foresee this, Father? All of this, and of course, the cause of all of this—Ilda's betrayal? If so, you should have killed her. You should have killed her before she committed that irreparable folly, just as you ordered the execution of others, such as La Endymion's mother, who is waiting on the other side of this field."

"But why didn't you lay a hand on her? Not only did you not, you even allowed her to continue living on Terra after all that she had done. She made an irreparable mistake, and your punishment for her was to ignore her and never see her again. What kind of punishment is that?"

The more the snake-headed man spoke, the calmer his tone became, which contrasted with his expression.

That uncontrollable smile tore through the pain and pallor, even dispelling the deathly aura, making him appear both incredibly joyful and incredibly strange.

A few seconds later, Omega slowly revealed the answer he had arrived at after a long period of thought.

"The answer is that you love her and you can't bear to do it. The answer is that you love us and you can't bear to do it."

The snake's head finally stopped. In this silence, which was neither too long nor too short, the father and son saw only darkness before them, and the dying son's slumped back before them.

Not far away, a farming family was still eating on their porch. They were eating well, and their day was peaceful and serene, just another ordinary day that didn't require much attention. Soon, when they went to bed, they would surely have a dreamless and restful sleep.

The wheat fields and corn stalks continued to sway, stretching in the wind, soon to be ripe.

Omega reopened.

"You are utterly hopeless, Your Majesty. You need people to do what you want, so you play the role of a majestic monarch to make others believe that you are the divine ruler they are destined to serve. Then you start to make mistakes, and one by one they see your true colors and end up either betraying you or leaving you, and you are not even willing to kill those who know your secrets."

"After that, you need a group of tools that will allow you to conquer the galaxy at top speed. You could have designed perfect tools, devoid of self-awareness and emotions. They would execute any order you gave without hesitation. However, your mind seems to have gone mad at this moment. You say no, you feel that this is too inhumane, so you decide to make these dangerous monsters human."

Omega burst into laughter.

"Look at what you've gained now. Why are you unwilling to learn from your mistakes? Why do you keep making the same errors over and over again?"

"You are the epitome of self-contradiction, the most terrifying patient that humanity has ever found in psychiatry. All psychiatric experts throughout history should kneel at your feet, kiss the back of your feet, and thank you for giving them a great cause that they could never finish even in a lifetime!"

On the other side of the farmland, La Endymion drew his sword, and Constantine Waldo, standing beside him, gripped the Apollo Spear tightly.

A man in black standing beside them saw this and made a sarcastic remark.

"Can't bear it anymore?"

The Imperial Guard Marshal's eyes were practically blazing with fury: "Slander! Utter slander! If it weren't for our lord's mercy, he wouldn't even have had the chance to say such a thing!"

Compared to his brother's anger, the water thief's son appeared extremely restrained.

La Endymion remained silent, only taking deep breaths.

Once, twice, three times.
Then he spoke, and at the same time, he sheathed both swords.

"grown ups."

“I remember saying that I don’t like this title.”

"I insist. Could you please give in?"

“I’ve actually been making concessions to you all along. Tell me, what do you want to know?”

The son of the water thief closed his eyes, then opened them again.

At this moment, there was no trace of the murderous intent and anger that the Imperial Guards had instinctively felt upon hearing that the Emperor had been humiliated; only calmness remained in his eyes, and even a hint of sorrow.

"How much longer?" the tribunal asked.

“It depends,” Khalil Lohals said. “It depends on when they finish talking and when they plan to call me over. Right now it’s just a family conversation, just a failed son complaining to his equally failed father. The son is almost done complaining, and soon it will probably be the father’s turn.”

At this point, he couldn't help but smile and shake his head.

“Listen, La, I know what you want to ask—but I can’t give you the answer.”

The tribunal stared at him sternly and retorted again, "You are perfectly capable of doing so."

Caril stopped laughing, and Constantine Waldo, who was standing to the side, also put down the Spear of Apollo.

The night breeze blew quietly past them, returning to the father and son on the ridge of the field.

“Ask me,” Omega said softly. “Ask whatever you want to know.”

Neos shook his head again: "It's not the time yet—"

"—Damn it, when is the right time?" Omega demanded sharply. "The next demonic invasion? The next Chaos invasion or alien enslavement? I don't have time for your idle chatter, Emperor! In the blink of an eye, a world might be suffering the ravages of war! Besides, we've never been a so-called harmonious family. I don't care if you're a good father or not, I only know you are the Emperor, the ruler of mankind!"

The roar, which should have echoed across the entire field, was transformed by Omega with unimaginable restraint into a muffled whimper, a sound that could be swallowed by the wind. He laboriously turned his wheelchair around, glaring at the face of the person shrouded in darkness, his teeth grinding together.

After a long while, the snake head began to pant and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Are you heartbroken? Are you sad? Do you feel a surge of resentment in your chest that you can't release? Try to understand, Your Majesty. This is how every family that has lost a loved one because of you feels. But you are much luckier than them. At least you know why your sons died. They are different. Most of them didn't even get to receive their death notices."

Neos finally gave a curt response.

"What you're talking about is already changing. The empire's massive, bloated bureaucracy is undergoing a reform, from top to bottom."

The snake's head gave a disdainful smile.

"But it will probably be hundreds of years before we see any results. Will those who will never see the death notice live to see that day? Your rebuttal is truly laughable."

"I'm not arguing with you."

"Really? Then what are you doing?"

“I just…” Neo paused. “I just don’t know what to say, Omega.”

The snake head pressed a button on the armrest of the wheelchair, bringing itself in front of him, and then looked up and stared into his eyes.

The emotion in those eyes transcended everything at that moment.

The snake-headed man wanted to laugh, but he held back. He didn't mock or rebuke anymore; he simply spoke softly.

“That’s right, Father. I love you, I love my brothers and this world, but I also don’t know what to say to you. Now let the Emperor come out and see me.”

As he wished, his father, who was always powerless, departed in tears, and the face of the Lord of Mankind took his place, his eyes beneath the laurel wreath utterly merciless.

The snake head smiled with satisfaction and swallowed a mouthful of blood.

“Very good,” he said. “Let me start from the beginning.”

A voice suddenly came from their side.

“Wait a moment,” said the Grand Judge. “The recorder has not yet arrived.”

Celestine walked through the cornfield to the Emperor and the traitor. A fleeting blue light flashed behind her, and the soil rose up, molded into tables and chairs by an invisible force. The nun placed her paper and pen on them, sat up straight, and glanced at the traitor.

The latter also stared at her, and for the first time did not smile at her.

"Do you really understand what you're going to record next?" he asked seriously.

“I don’t understand, but it’s my duty, and I will do it,” Celestine said. “After you die, I will archive the original.”

"Okay, I wish you success."

He turned to the Lord of mankind.

"let's start."
-
Prisoner: Our plan is very simple, although it may sound counterintuitive, but the more detailed the plan, the harder it is to implement. Most people make mistakes even when doing very simple things, so we decided from the beginning that the plan should have as few steps as possible.

Emperor: To be more specific.

Prisoner (after a moment of contemplation): First, I want to tell you our purpose, our ultimate goal.

Emperor: Speak.

Prisoner: Terra is shattered, but the war is not over; victory and defeat are yet to be decided. Chaos may be indifferent to winning or losing, but humanity cannot. We must ensure humanity's victory. However, neither Alpharis nor I are prophets, and our psionic talents are only average. We lack the ability to foresee the future. Furthermore, prophecies derived from warp powers are never reliable.

Emperor: Who helped you?
The prisoner (smiles, but does not answer)
Emperor: Me?

Prisoner: No, it's Him, the worst, most terrifying, and most unwanted version of yourself. Do you remember what you said to me in the Terran dungeon?

The Emperor (without hesitation): The warp can be seen as a well, with rivers flowing beneath it, which converge with countless other underground rivers to form a sea.

Prisoner (surprised): You remember, you even remember this kind of thing.

Emperor: I will always remember.

Prisoner (laughs): But you've forgotten the most important thing! What's wrong with you, Emperor? You've met Him, and even made a deal with Him in person!
Emperor: I could not do that.

Prisoner: What? Is this your first time making a deal with an evil god? Should I remind you that there's one standing not far from us?

The Emperor (after a moment of silence): Perhaps I would do so, but only as a last resort. When did this deal happen? Ten thousand years ago? Back then, I had no reason to make such a deal with Him, and how could He have come to our world without causing the slightest ripple?

Prisoner: He didn't come, never, and this deal didn't happen ten thousand years ago. In fact, it never happened.

Emperor (silence again, for a long time):
Emperor (speaking again): What do you want to say?
Prisoner: It is what is about to happen, the most important one, it concerns humanity's past, present and future.

Emperor: Tell me the answer.

Prisoner: I'll talk about that later. Let's talk about Alpha Reis first. The mission he received from Him was different from mine. Like I said, I don't really know when or where he died, but I have a rough idea.

The Emperor (silent)
The prisoner (who seemed unsurprised by the Emperor's reaction): The massacre that occurred ten thousand years ago on Nostramore was nothing but a smokescreen. My brother has always liked to use such simple, even somewhat crude, methods to deceive people, and this time, he was particularly successful.

He deceived the Chaos Gods, he deceived you, he deceived Conrad Coates, and he even deceived me. There should have been no secrets between us, twin hearts intertwined, but he had to complete his mission, just as I had to complete mine, and so we had to be separated forever.

Emperor (suddenly speaking): What did you do to each other?
The prisoner (ignoring the prisoner and continuing): To deceive others, you must first deceive yourself—memory is unreliable. A person's description of the same event at different times will produce polarized results due to different guidance and suggestions. Even the Primarch is not immune to this influence. We have thoroughly brainwashed ourselves, Emperor. From that day on, we can no longer hear each other's thoughts.

Emperor: Which day?
Prisoner: 001.M31, December 12.24th, nearly three years before Robert Cos was drowned in blood.

Emperor: And then?

The prisoner (shrugging laboriously): Of course it was deception, what else could it be? But that's a story for another time, let's not digress, I have to get back to Alpharis. If my guess is correct, then he died in a very remote place.

Emperor: Where? What place?

Prisoner: During the Great Crusade, its number was 7832-13-21, and the locals called it Tyre. A barren world on the frontier, where the primary means of taxation is population.

The Emperor (silent)
Prisoner: Not going to say anything more? Then I'll continue. In short, he died there. His death was the beginning of everything.

Emperor (in a very soft voice): Who killed him?

Prisoner (seemingly wanting to laugh): You.

Emperor: Me?
Prisoner: Yes, you, you killed him.

Emperor: I will not do that, nor will He.

Prisoner: But what if he's determined to die? What if he tells you that if you don't do it, humanity will perish, and then he manages to prove it? You would, Emperor, of course you would, and even I would.

The Emperor (silence again)
Prisoner: And I haven't even said when he died there. He died 128 years after the end of the Great Rebellion and was buried in the public cemetery, where his life is recorded—Lorenzo del Cunas, aged 41, the Loyal Protector.

Emperor (showing shock for the first time): Delkunas?
Prisoner: Yeah, didn't expect that, did you?
Emperor: He
Prisoner: He pulled off a clever escape and put on a good show. But is the current Delkunas family really his bloodline? I think not. It's just a smokescreen. But you could also think of it this way: he probably wouldn't mind, and might even chuckle as he tells you that he has indeed married a wife.

Emperor: Wife?
Prisoner: Yes.

Emperor: How do you know so much? You just said you only had some rough guesses.

Prisoner: I visited the cemetery once and saw the burial site; it was a joint coffin. Now listen to me. Blood ties, wife, even himself—none of these things matter. What matters from beginning to end is only one person—Cassidolius Delcunas.

Emperor (silent):
The prisoner (seemingly relieved): I've told you everything I know about him. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask him yourself.

Emperor (frowning): Now?
Prisoner (smiling): Yes, now. Go see him, question him, and then kill him. Go, Emperor, go and kill Alpharis.

The Emperor (silent, then looking at the scribe): Follow me, Celestine.

A dazzling golden light shone behind him.

The prisoner (shouting at us): Kill him!
-
137.M31, the Imperial Frontier, Tyre.

At this point, 128 years had passed since that devastating war that engulfed the entire galaxy.

There may still be places suffering from the remaining poison, but Tyre certainly is not among them. It has no strategic resources and is not even worthy of being gradually transformed into a giant hive city.

The Mechanicus had considered this idea, but abandoned it after exploring Tyre's underground mineral resources—it was simply not worth the effort. Hiveification was a massive project that would take many years to complete, and usually only worlds that had been gradually drained of resources received such treatment.

The Tyrians were quite pleased with this outcome. After all, their population wasn't large, and if their homeland truly became a nesting city, it would inevitably attract a large influx of migrants from across the stars.

This is undeniable; the imperial bureaucrats will not show any leniency on this matter.

So the old folks always say: It's good as it is now.

Yes, it's fine as it is now.

Tyre escaped the war. Although the large amount of tithes paid during the war resulted in a small population, Tyre did not send anyone back, seemingly having forgotten about them. The world was vast and the empire was far away, with no front lines around it. Even pirates and aliens disdained to come to this remote and desolate place.

What could be better than this?
Thus, the Tyrians gained a hard-won peace, but also some new traditions. These included vigilance against cultists and the forces of chaos, and a particular festival.

The Ascension Day of the Emperor.

People always love to celebrate. Even though the Imperial Truth is still more popular in Tyre than the God-Emperor's Faith due to the large number of elderly people, a festival is a festival, and who doesn't like to celebrate?

The elderly wouldn't, the young wouldn't, and officials would even less likely to—gift-giving is a legitimate opportunity to bribe.

Many people lack the courage to embezzle huge sums of money, but they have more than enough guts to accept small, exquisite gifts during holidays. These things don't amount to much, but they can genuinely improve one's life: What? This necklace? Ah, it's for my wife. That pretty data tablet? It's for my daughter.
Lorenzo del Cuñas, a junior manager in the city’s routine maintenance department, was one of those who received a large number of gifts.

Although he wasn't a high-ranking official, the phrase "routine maintenance" was certainly a powerful tool for his charade. However, according to the family's custom, receiving gifts and hosting guests were usually none of his business; the person truly in charge was his wife, Anna Delkunas.

It may sound strange, but anyone who knew the couple knew that Mrs. Anna was the one in charge of the household, while Mr. Lorenzo was basically a hands-off manager. He was too lazy to even give orders to the servants, had little social life after get off work, and spent most of the year busy in his study; nobody knew what he was doing.

Interestingly, he was actually a very volatile person in his youth, often getting into fights over the slightest disagreement. His father, a well-known local gentleman, finally lost his temper after repeatedly trying to get him out of the police station, and simply sent young Lorenzo to the army in Tyre.

As a result, he thrived in that harsh environment and became an officer just two years later. He even volunteered to serve in war-torn worlds.

This incident infuriated his parents, and many elderly people even believe that the two of them eventually died of anger.

In short, twelve years later, Lorenzo del Cunas honorably retired as an officer and returned to his hometown, carrying with him many honors. However, unlike other soldiers who returned laden with achievements, he was greeted only by an elderly butler—his parents had long since passed away, leaving him only an old house and a considerable inheritance.

Besides that, there were two suicide notes.

What exactly was written in it—whether it was a rebuke or a reconciliation—is a question only Lorenzo himself probably knows the answer to.

All that is known is that just a year later, Lorenzo married a woman he had met at a ball. Their married life was quite harmonious, but he became increasingly silent, even showing signs of reclusiveness. Furthermore, he delegated all matters such as receiving guests to his wife.

But that's a good thing! That's what the old folks commented. Anyway, Lorenzo isn't much of a talker, so it's good that he doesn't go out; otherwise, he might break someone's bones again! Anna is different; she's a kind and good person, so let her do it!
This shows that, unlike the unsociable and short-tempered Mr. Lorenzo, Miss Anna is seen as a kind and eloquent person.

That is indeed the case. For example, at this moment, the lady, dressed in an elegant long dress, is sitting in the main seat of the reception room, smiling as she greets her husband's colleague.
The smile never left her face all morning, as if it would stay that way forever.

The children brought to her home by their parents were either terrified of her or adored her, and she gave each child a gift. Some were toys, others a large box of expensive candy. This always brought a touch of genuine warmth to the smiles of those who came to deliver gifts; after all, they never expected to receive a return gift.

There were also some people whose living conditions were clearly impoverished, and Mrs. Anna treated them the same way. She even kept them a little longer so she could chat with them and promised them a few insignificant work-related favors in her husband's name.
As the afternoon progressed, the smile on Mrs. Anna's face finally vanished when the last guest left the Delkunas mansion.

She calmly instructed the servants to collect all the gifts, then returned to her study and began writing a list from memory.

After finishing this matter, she changed into casual home clothes, removed her makeup, let her hair down, and went to the couple's private restaurant for a meal.

"Lorenzo," Anna called as she opened the door, her voice gentle and pleasant. "So many people came to see you today."

"Hmm? Oh? Okay."

Lorenzo didn't realize what had happened until his wife sat down.

He responded to her a beat late, but his hands moved quickly, connecting the complex electronic components together with astonishing stability.
A buzzing sound of electricity followed, and Lorenzo leaned back with satisfaction, a barely perceptible smile on his face.

He had delicious food laid out beside him, but he didn't touch it.

"You succeeded again?" Anna asked in surprise.

“Yes, it’s another success,” Lorenzo said. “The most difficult problem has been solved; now all that’s left is to do some repetitive calculations. By spring, we’ll have another patent under our name. According to my predictions, this will reduce winter heating costs for most people by forty percent.”

“Not us,” Anna corrected him, but couldn’t help laughing. “It’s Sinail Coston, a great inventor who never leaves his house but has risen to fame in recent years.”

Lorenzo shook his head dismissively and retorted, "Only a dozen or so patents."

“A dozen or so? And that’s all?” Anna glared at her husband. “It’s a good thing I had you use a pseudonym and a fake account, otherwise what would those reporters have written about you? That the young and promising Mr. Lorenzo Del Cunas was spouting nonsense, planning to continue to use his talents for Thiel and develop another hundred patents!”

"You're exaggerating. How could there possibly be a hundred? I'd be content with just twenty more."

Mrs. Anna smiled, picked up her plate, and sat down next to her husband, while unceremoniously crossing her legs over his.

I'm already very content.

"Why?" Lorenzo looked at his wife, puzzled. "When we got married, I said I would make sure you had everything you needed, but that's probably far from the truth now."

“You’ve done it, darling,” Anna said, looking at him. “And that’s not why I married you. You had a bad reputation back then; people said you had a terrible temper and had broken someone’s leg before you even joined the army. Who knew what would happen after you came back?”

“I was worried for a while when I found out you were going to attend that ball. After all, it was held at my house. What if you got into a fight with someone? But you didn’t argue with anyone. You just sat in the corner drinking by yourself. When the ball ended, everyone took a car home, but you chose to walk.”

"I was worried you'd get drunk and freeze to death on the roadside, and I was also afraid you wouldn't want to ride in our car, so I had to send our housekeeper with you. When he came back, he told me that you'd given all the money you had to a group of homeless people at the intersection, and even sang to them while hugging them."

Lorenzo coughed and turned his face away: "You never told me this."

Anna smiled and said, "But you didn't say you would regularly donate money or do volunteer work, did you? By the way, what's the name of that song? The butler hummed a few lines for me, but I have no recollection of it. Was it a song you heard when you were serving in the military? Just like the skill you learned, was it taught to you by that Mr. Neos?"

“Yes.” Lorenzo turned his head. “This song should be considered a folk song. He said it was written by the ancient Terrans.”

"what is it call?"

"I don't know the name."

"Then sing it for me again."

Lorenzo opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, and was about to speak when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

The housekeeper they hired after their marriage, an experienced old gentleman, called out hoarsely from outside the door, "Madam, another guest has arrived."

Anna coughed, lowered her legs, straightened her skirt, and spoke again, her voice returning to its usual calm.

"What's his name? Did he bring his family?"

"The gentleman introduced himself as Neos, and he was accompanied by a young lady named Celestine."

With a thud, Lorenzo Del Cunas' knee slammed against the table, but he quickly, straightened up, and was completely unaffected.

Anna smiled and looked over. She had expected her husband to show the joy of reuniting with an old friend from the army, but she never expected to see an expression on Lorenzo's face that she had never seen before.
It made her feel unfamiliar, uneasy, and even a little scared.

“Lorenzo?” Anna called softly, but her husband did not speak.

Outside the door, the butler asked again, "Is it inconvenient, Madam? Should I ask them to wait a little longer, or should I ask them to come back tomorrow?"

No, none of that is necessary.

"Uh, sir?"

“Tell them to wait a moment, I’ll be there soon,” said Mr. Lorenzo, who never commented on family matters.

He frowned deeply, his expression as cold and hard as iron.

Looking at that face and that expression, Anna Delkunas was suddenly gripped by an intense sense of panic.
But the feeling came quickly and went quickly. When she changed her clothes and arrived at the drawing room with Lorenzo, the shrewd and kind Mrs. Anna was back.

The door was pushed open by a servant, and she saw a middle-aged man and a young woman.

The woman's clothing was quite formal and somber, and she had a rosary wrapped around her left wrist in a manner typically reserved for monks. The man, on the other hand, was unremarkable; at first glance, he seemed unremarkable at all, completely contradicting the learned and omnipotent image Lorenzo had described.

The door closed behind them, and the footsteps of the servants faded into the distance, leaving the reception room silent except for the ticking of the exquisite wooden clock on the wall.

A moment later, Lorenzo stepped forward and spoke to his old comrade. "You've come," he said in a deep voice. "I didn't expect it to be so soon."

As these words slowly fell, the panic that Anna had previously deliberately ignored surged up again—would comrades-in-arms greet each other like this after a long separation?

A suspicion suddenly arose: Lorenzo had lied to her.

Lorenzo's old comrade-in-arms, Neos, nodded and replied simply and directly, "Your brother sent me to find you."

Younger brother? You have a younger brother?
Anna's eyes widened, and she wanted to ask a question immediately, but she didn't.

Angry? Probably, anyone would be unhappy to be kept in the dark like that. But Lorenzo did bring her here, which means that at least he didn't want to hide this conversation from her, and Anna naturally wouldn't ask about these family matters in front of outsiders.

She frowned, chose to remain silent, and her gaze fell on the woman named Celestine because of a sudden rustling sound.

To her surprise, she found that the latter was writing something with his head down.

What is she doing?
"He sent you?" Lorenzo seemed to sigh. "Okay, then I think I understand. I thought it could take longer. Have a seat. You sit too, Anna."

After speaking, he took his seat first. Anna sat expressionlessly to his right, while the man named Neos sat opposite them. As for the woman, she didn't choose a comfortable armchair, but instead sat on a stool of varying heights, engrossed in writing.

"how is he?"

No sooner had they sat down than Lorenzo posed a question. Anna noticed that his hands were clasped tightly together, his fingertips white.

"He's dying."

Nios—the captain Lorenzo described as having saved his life—answered in a tone so calm it was almost unreal.

Anna gasped softly at the shocking answer, but Lorenzo barely reacted, merely shifting his posture. He had been sitting rather gracefully before, but now he leaned back, his back pressed firmly against the soft chair back.

After a while, when the second hand of the wall clock had ticked nearly two hundred times, he slowly began to speak.

"That means everything is almost over, but everything is also just beginning."

Anna was inevitably confused: what exactly did that sentence mean?
In fact, the whole thing was hard for her to understand. First, an old comrade-in-arms who only existed in her husband's stories came to visit, and then a younger brother who was about to die appeared out of nowhere.
In a moment of contemplation, she unconsciously hugged herself and suddenly felt a chill.

She couldn't quite pinpoint where it came from, only feeling that the conversation was unlikely to end well, and might even destroy their peaceful and beautiful days—but then, in the blink of an eye, she found the idea utterly ridiculous.

“You two brothers have kept many things from me,” the man named Neos said again, his voice tinged with reproach.

“Hidden?” Lorenzo shook his head. “No, we didn’t hide anything. Everything was done with your instruction and tacit approval, Captain.”

Upon hearing this, Anna noticed that the man seemed somewhat surprised, as if he didn't understand the form of address.

She glanced at her husband, while the man who was once familiar but now felt like a stranger simply extended his right hand towards her without turning his head. His palm was broad, his fingertips calloused, and a bandage was wrapped around the second joint of his middle finger. It was a wound he had sustained last Tuesday after working through the night on an experiment. It had bled profusely then, but now it had scabbed over.

Anna knew this hand very well; she had been married to him for eight years, and every evening after dinner they would walk hand in hand along the city wall for a while.

She reached out and grasped it, feeling a surge of warmth, but her heart grew even colder.

The man who used to be her husband continued, "What else? You don't expect them to give you a higher rank, do you? You beat up several logistics officers who were withholding our pay just before you were about to be discharged. It's a miracle they didn't put you in a military court."

At this moment, his tone of voice when speaking to the so-called 'captain' had become quite familiar.
How could Anna not know his intentions? His tone and words were nothing more than an attempt to dispel her suspicions.

She gripped his hand tightly, her anger swelling to an uncontrollable level. She wanted to shake off his hand, yell at him, and walk away, but she didn't.

The captain nodded: "Yes, you're right."

After a simple reply, he turned his gaze to Anna's face and leaned forward—Anna realized with some disbelief that this person cared about her.

In fact, not only that, his eyes could practically speak: Lorenzo del Cunas deceived you, didn't he? Tell me, and I'll punish him immediately if you do.

Anna blinked hard, banishing the bizarre thought from her mind, and then flashed a flawless, lady Delquinas smile that belonged to the reception room.

"I'm so sorry, Captain, my husband is so excited to see you again after so long that he forgot to tell the servants to prepare tea. Please allow me to leave for a moment, okay?"

As she spoke, she stood up and subtly twitched her hand, trying to separate it from the hand she now utterly loathed, but the man did not allow it.

He slowly turned his head, and the expression that belonged to Lorenzo del Cunas returned, but this time it no longer stirred her love; instead, it felt like a thorn in her eye.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” he said softly. “I understand. What’s happening right now is like a terrible nightmare for you.”

"What are you talking about?" Anna told him with a forced smile. "I'm just going to prepare tea for our guests."

The stranger stood up, still holding on. He looked at her very seriously and said, word by word, "Please believe me, okay, Anna?"

Anna really wanted to say yes.

Memories of the past flashed before her eyes, those brief seconds feeling like an eternity—it might seem laughable now, but they really did make such a plan, even considering the location of the burial plot.
Anna insisted on two burial plots, while Lorenzo only wanted to be buried together.

Those beautiful arguments slowly welled up from the depths of her memory, reaching her ears and bringing tears to the eyes of this ordinary woman from the remote border region.

She ultimately said nothing, but simply turned and left, even closing the living room door behind her.

The hurried footsteps faded into the distance. Lorenzo del Cunas rubbed his face with his hands and sat down again. A deep sigh came from behind his hands, carrying genuine dejection.

His father gazed at him thoughtfully, without uttering a word. The recorder was so focused on wielding his pen that he had never been so attentive, not even when holding a sword.

Alpharis lowered his hand and forced a smile that was anything but genuine.

"Alright, now we can get down to business. It's been a long time, Father."

“Indeed.” His father nodded. “You’ve even started a family and a career.”

In an instant, those words froze Alpharis's fake smile on his face, while his father had only just begun.

"How did you two meet? When was the wedding? What kind of people are her parents? Have you considered—"

"—Enough!" Alpharis had to raise his voice. "You came all this way just to chat about these mundane family matters?!"

The father countered, "This is, after all, a major life event for you. How can I not ask more questions?"

Alpharis narrowed his eyes and suddenly calmed down.

"So that's how it is. You thought I was being sincere? No, it was all just a facade. You underestimate me, Father. I am Makado's student."

"And what about his students?"

Alpharis unconsciously smirked: "He's a cold, ruthless machine, therefore I—"

His father interrupted him again.

"—He's recently taken to playing harmless pranks in his spare time, something your heartless machine wouldn't waste time on. Similarly, if you were really like the Makado you imagine, you wouldn't be sitting here so calmly, telling clumsy lies to cover it up."

Alpharis remained silent.

The wall clock still kept precise time, its second hand ticking away. Every morning, a servant would come to check on it and compare its time with the time projected onto the sky by the most precise clock in the city's clock tower. Whether the wall clock ran fast or slow, if it did not match the clock on the tower, it was an error and had to be corrected.

This was the case in every household in the city. Even if someone occasionally questioned the accuracy of the clock's timekeeping, a few words like "there is a thinker inside the clock" were enough to make them nod in understanding and never ask again.

But this doesn't mean the answer will actually satisfy them. Most of the time, it's just that they're willing to accept it—why bother? Why waste extra, hard-earned energy to get to the bottom of things? Even if the timing is wrong, life goes on as usual.

Humans are very good at deceiving themselves and often dislike being told this.

If someone were to pierce the veil they themselves have put on their own eyes, that person would not receive any thanks.

My father knew this perfectly well; he had already pierced the veil millions of times.

Most of the time, he received only curses, fists, and sticks. As times changed and civilizations shifted, curses became threats, fists were replaced by glares, but sticks became even more powerful, evolving into swords, guns, and even land-based warships the size of cities.
These misfortunes would not have befallen him otherwise; he chose to expose the truth, so this can be considered a case of asking for trouble.

But he didn't regret it—one can't live in a lie forever, and he knew all too well the price to pay for doing so.

In the distant past, he would not even want to see some people he had never met suffer such a fate, so how could he sit idly by and watch his own son fall into hell?
The father spoke patiently, but never gently.

"Where is the original Lorenzo Delcunas?"

Alpharis looked up at him and replied, "He died in battle. He was hit by a stray bullet on his first day on the battlefield."

Did you push for it?

The snake-headed creature frowned, seemingly wanting to say something inflammatory, but ultimately held back.

"Of course not. Why would you suspect me? Don't you know how many soldiers died in the first volley of fire they faced in their very first battle?"

“I understand, but this is no small matter, and I need to find out the truth. You stole his identity?”

“Yes.” The snake-headed man nodded with a cold smile. “Is that even a question?”

"How long did you serve in his place?"

"Twelve years."

How many battles were fought?

Alpharis replied with a sullen face, "I forgot."

The father seemed somewhat surprised.

“I really can’t remember. I’ve sealed off all abilities beyond Lorenzo Delcunas’s limits, including even his physical attributes,” Alpharis said, looking at him and emphasizing each word. “If you’re going to put on an act, you have to go all the way. I haven’t forgotten Macado’s words.”

The father's lips trembled slightly: "This will come at a considerable price. What do you and your brother think your brains are?"

"Experimental field".

The father sighed and changed the subject: "Let's talk about Ms. Anna. How long have you been married?"

"Eight years and four months."

"Are you enjoying your daily life?"

Alpharis nodded: "Apart from today, we haven't had any conflicts. I've played my role very well."

"What do you mean? Your husband, or Lorenzo del Cunas?"

“Both,” the snake-headed man said calmly. “Lorenzo was an eccentric before he joined the army, and the war exacerbated his psychological problems. He was bound to go astray, but Anna pulled him back. He’s a man of strong will and weak morals, and Anna is like a lock that holds him in place. He wouldn’t want to hurt her.”

"You seem to be accusing me."

As if detached from the situation, the snake-headed creature replied, "There's no need for that. This identity and everything he possesses are only for today. The only difference is that I originally thought you might arrive a little later, but there's nothing wrong with arriving earlier."

The father remained unmoved on the sofa, his expression gradually turning cold: "I still have many unresolved questions."

The snake-headed creature chuckled softly.

He seemed to have no connection whatsoever to the group of people referred to by the term 'Genesis,' and even his appearance was completely different from Alpharis in his father's memory.

The character he replaced and played had a square, broad chin, a slightly crooked nose due to years of injury, gray-brown eyes, and brown hair. His physique was also unremarkable; he was slightly thin, not tall, and had uneven feet. He was clearly not the type to run naked in the street, so naturally, no one could see the very noticeable scars on his body.

From any perspective, Lorenzo del Cunas was not a handsome man; at best, he was passable-looking, not repulsive. He was just an ordinary person living in a small town on the outskirts of the country.

Yes, he held a minor official position, but what's so special about that? His life was unremarkable; he was just one of the masses, a speck of dust.

Compared to the Empire and humanity, what is he?
Alpharis let these words flow through his mind like water.

He knew that the man sitting in one of the pale blue velvet armchairs he had made by hand could hear these words.

He knew this as well as he knew he would die eventually. If he didn't die, countless worlds belonging to ordinary people like Lorenzo del Cunas would be destroyed.

But what makes Lorenzo so special that he gets to be personally impersonated by the Primarch of the Twentieth Legion? Is it because he is actually a direct ancestor of Cassidolius?
No, that's not the case. The Delkunas family has branches all over the galaxy, and they share the same surname, but only the main branch on Terra truly holds the traveling merchant's license. Casidorius is a member of the main branch; his ancestor couldn't have been a collateral descendant like Lorenzo.

"So, what is the answer?" the father suddenly asked.

"I made him special," the snake-headed creature replied with a smile.

The winter afternoon was peaceful, with no wind outside, but his mind had gradually drifted away, arriving at a sea of ​​intrigue.

He picked out one of them and laid it out before him, with the same focus he had shown every night for the past eight years as he fiddled with electronic components under the lamplight in his study, his mind as ordinary as a mortal.

First, we need to find the starting point.

coming.

A scene slowly emerges: a dark palace, a grim throne—and then the Dark King.

The universe is vast, but all races capable of glimpsing His existence call Him by this name, regardless of their language. He is the prophesied destroyer and terminator, but He will never be born again, destined to remain only a name no one wants to mention.

The Lord of Darkness said: Your victory rests in the hands of two messengers. To the true God, time is a utterly ridiculous concept. One of them is unshakable and immortal; his existence in the material world is as solid as a rock, and they cannot touch him. But the other is different. This man is mortal; he will become a hero, but until then, he remains mortal, capable of sickness, aging, pain, and death. His time and destiny are still subject to change. You must change this, and change it forever.

"How do we do it?" the two brothers asked in unison.

His father also raised the question at that moment.

The snake's head breathed steadily and carefully released its remaining parts.

He hadn't touched those memories in far too long. In order to truly become Lorenzo del Cunas, he had abandoned most of his life as Alpharis, and now, recalling them again felt like the opposite of being stripped bare.

He felt an indescribable tingling sensation gradually spreading throughout his body; it was a terrible longing, calling to him to be Alphareth again, to be one of the Primarchs once more. To be far beyond the mortal realm, to scorn all things in this world once more. It was truly tempting.

He refused. He no longer needed them, even though they were very tempting.

The images came one after another, and then froze on the most crucial scene.

The Lord of Darkness said: Deception, lies, conspiracy. Trapped them, Alpha and Omega, bound them tightly in an eternal cycle, their energy diverted until everything predetermined truly occurs in the material world, until Cassidolius Delcinus ascends Terra with that spear. When that day comes, they will realize its true purpose. But by then, they will no longer be able to change anything, for they too will have become part of this cycle—they are not human, unable to deny or sever their past; they can only obey. A group of slaves.

"cycle?"

The father's voice echoed in the snake's head, tinged with a sense of sudden realization, but mostly with disbelief and heartache. These emotions then transformed into anger.
Rage, fury, whatever you describe it, it's a kind of anger that comes on very quickly and with tremendous force.

How could you—

He began to berate, his anger now mingling with his sorrow.

Never before had the snake's head been so close to his thoughts, but this discovery now failed to move him. He had known all along that his father would react this way.

Accept it, accept it. The snake-headed creature thought. You have no choice but to accept it.

"No!" the father roared. "No!"

Accept it, you must. It's the path with the least bloodshed and the least sacrifice.

"This is not a sacrifice, this is—"

"What is it, Father? You have peered into my heart once more." The snake-headed man smiled and accused him.

I haven't even mentioned what's to come, but you already know what I'm going to make you do. You're always like this, disregarding others' feelings and bossing them around. Of course, your followers will call it kingly magnanimity, but in my opinion, all monarchs are arrogant and petty. Especially you, you narrow-minded and arrogant king.

You can't stand anything exceeding the value you've set for it in your mind. Just like now, you can't accept that Omega and I devised and implemented a plan that completely leaves you out of the loop.

The anger subsided slightly, and it whispered, "I will not accept this."

Why? These are just two more sacrifices.

"Sacrifice is sacrifice, and forgetting is forgetting. The victims should not be forgotten."

Sacrifice is merely a facade; ultimately, it is still death, and the dead will eventually be forgotten. Time is a ceaseless river, Father, and we are not even pebbles on its banks. When a bright future descends upon every human being in this universe, empires will vanish like smoke.

This is my greatest wish, do you understand? I hope that one day, people will no longer remember us, no longer remember any of this. I hope they will forget the Empire, the Emperor, Chaos, the Primarchs, and the Astartes Legion; I hope they will forget every war that ever happened. No one should remember these things, at least those living in that wonderful new world should not suffer this torment.

"I can't forget you."

But you had no choice, Father.

The snake's head laughed arrogantly.

Let me tell you what will happen if you don't forget all of this. They will realize something is wrong sooner or later, they always will.

and then?
They will investigate; perhaps the one on the brass chair won't, but the other three certainly will. The War on Terra has lasted ten thousand years, and in their minds, it's a massive, unhealable wound, bleeding humanity every moment. How could they imagine we would be so audacious as to profit from it?
The anger completely subsided, replaced by pleading: "I will be very careful, they won't even find a trace of it."

The snake head calmly refused, almost ruthlessly.

No, that won't work, because they don't need to search for you; you'll give yourself away, your emotions will reveal everything. Unless you completely forget it, as if it never happened.

No. No.

"Absolutely." The snake-headed man said coldly. "What you need to do next is very simple, Father."

All you need to do is kill me first, then send someone to Terra to get the gun that originally belonged to Casidorius from Major Saad ibn Salah ibn Rashid al-Latib, and then use it to kill Omega.

After you've finished this, go back in time, back to when you sent Omega to deal with those scholars. You can find the Dark Lord there.

He is waiting for you, and has been waiting for a long time.

Time marches on relentlessly, and the gods, independent of the universe, can freely interfere in the life trajectory of anyone, yet they cannot alter the very path in which they themselves are involved.
I want you to finish this task so that the whole thing will be closed without them knowing.

Your two messengers are alive, have accomplished their mission, and are no longer threatened by any power. The war on Terra will be over, and humanity will prevail.

Without giving his father another chance to refuse, Alpharis stood up. He took off his coat, unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his scarred chest.

“Once and for all,” he said, staring at the emperor. “One and done.”

Never before had Alpharis seen such an expression on the Emperor's face. He didn't know how to describe it, he just found it funny, but he wasn't sad, he was even filled with warmth.

He straightened his head and stood in front of the armchair, waiting for the Lord of Mankind to rise and kill him—but the door to the drawing room was opened first, and Anna Delkunas walked in.

She was holding a lace-trimmed silver tray with four cups of tea on it.

Or rather, there were once four cups of tea.

With a crash, the silver plate fell to the ground.

Anna was terrified, a fact Alpharis could easily deduce. With the release of his memories, the powers he had relinquished were returning.

If he doesn't die soon, he will probably return in a real sense.

He couldn't let that happen, otherwise all those soldiers of the 20th Legion who died on Nostrama would have died in vain.

To put it somewhat ironically, Conrad Coz was killed in vain. His brother wasn't exactly a spendthrift; judging from the investigations he'd ordered the Legion to conduct and his own observations, the Night King was probably a very frugal man.

I don't want to be hated even after I die, Alpharis thought to himself.

He lowered his hand, walked over and closed the door, then put his arm around Anna's trembling shoulder.

He thought Lorenzo's wife would cry or scream, but she didn't. She simply furrowed her beautiful, thin eyebrows and endured it.

What is there to endure? Alpharis wanted to see through the mystery, but a voice inside him told him not to.

He didn't listen, but did it anyway, and as if struck by a heavy blow, his lips curled downwards.

“I’m sorry—” Anna said hoarsely and sadly. “—I’ll go make four more cups of tea.”

“No need, Anna,” Alpharis said to her in Lorenzo Del Cunas’s voice. “It will all be over soon, and the guests don’t drink tea anyway.”

"What do you mean?" He saw those words in her eyes, and then, through the glistening tears she could no longer hold back, he saw a broken heart.

Damn it. The snake-headed creature thought.

"My business will be finished soon."

He said this, trying to remain calm, still using Lorenzo del Cunas's voice, but the tone had become his own.

Strangely, for some reason, Anna Delkunas was not surprised at all.

She caught her breath, wiped away her tears, then straightened up and asked softly, "He came to kill you, didn't he?"

“Yes,” Lorenzo said. “Exactly. That’s right.”

"You said he was a captain, that's a lie."

"Yes. I deserve to die, madam."

“Who is he?” Anna asked, then turned to look at the pale-faced man in the armchair. “Who are you?”

Lorenzo gently pressed his wife's shoulder so that she would look directly at him.

"We can't tell you this; it's a secret."

Suddenly, she asked in a very naive tone, "Can't you live forever? Please."

“No,” Lorenzo said. “My death foreshadows the beginning of something, so I cannot live, Anna. That’s all I can say.”

She pulled away from his embrace, stood five steps away, and began to scrutinize him very carefully. After looking him up and down several times, from head to toe, and from toe to head, pain appeared in her eyes.

"Your name isn't Lorenzo, is it?" she asked in a low voice, her tone very certain, as if she already knew the answer.

Alpharis wanted to laugh, to praise her—how can you still be so smart, Anna?
However, in the real world, he simply replied, "You can just call me that."

“No. My husband’s name is Lorenzo Del Cunas, you are not him. Who are you?”

Alpharis's lips twitched, but he didn't speak.

He wanted to laugh at himself—becoming Lorenzo del Cunas was his own decision, and if you're going to play the part, you have to go all the way, a motto he inherited from Macardo. It wasn't wrong, and he wasn't wrong either. Anna was just a mortal; what did her love, hate, and life matter compared to the safety of all humanity?
Yes, you used her as part of a flawless disguise.

You have absolutely no reason to feel guilty about this, because what you're doing fully supports him in using anyone as a bargaining chip and putting them on the table.

Perhaps so, perhaps so, but the countless nights he spent during those eight years with a mortal mind were not. The designs, electronic components, and patents he painstakingly crafted couldn't lie; they weren't him. They belonged to an unexpected turn of events, to a promise he made himself on his wedding day, in Lorenzo's voice and with his own personality.

I want you to live a life free from worries about food and clothing, and to be happy and carefree.

In the end, I can't fool myself. Alpharis thought regretfully.

“I am nobody. You can treat me like a fraud.” He ignored Lorenzo’s voice and answered her in his own. “I admit I used you. Now, may I ask you to leave? We have some things to do here, Mrs. Delcunas.”

As he had expected, Madame Delcounas began to weep, but without uttering a sound. She wept silently, letting her tears stream down her cheeks and soak her collar.

She didn't say another word, but unsteadily stepped aside—I'm not leaving, and you're not going anywhere with me.

She demonstrated this through her actions.

Alpharis closed his eyes.

He practically pounced on Lorenzo to retrieve his voice, like a dog snatching food.

"Please, please, let's go, Anna. You don't want to see what happens next."

“No,” his wife said. “I’m going to stay here and watch you live or die.”

The man in the armchair slowly stood up.

"leave."

He spoke in a low, harsh voice, almost like he was giving a command. Alpharis knew something was wrong, and sure enough, Anna started yelling at him.

"Who do you think you are? You walked into my house to kill my husband, and now you want me to leave?! No, I won't leave, I'll stay here! I'll remember what you look like, murderer!"

The murderer looked at her, at this soul filled with extreme sorrow, rage, and helplessness, and then smiled slightly.

"Sigh." He sighed, supporting his back with his hand, then sighed again. "Sigh."

He stepped over the porcelain shards and tea on the carpet and came to Alpharis, a deeper sigh emanating from his body.

The event happened in the next second, or perhaps a thousand years. The other two people present didn't see how he killed him; they only saw a flash, and then a corpse fell to the ground. There was no blood, no splattered human tissue, just a limp body, seemingly unconscious, but actually dead.

The recorder wrote furiously, while Mrs. Delquinas stood still.

The father bent down, knelt beside him, and lifted his son's body.

"Ugh"

He let out a long sigh, as if exhaling all the air from his lungs. He held him tightly, pulling his head to his chest. His eyes were wide open, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. He didn't look at him, just held him like that, breathing and sighing continuously, without tears flowing from those eyes that were wide open to their limit.

After a while, he began to hum a song in an ancient language.

Upon hearing this, the wife, who had lost her husband, finally burst into tears.

137.M31, Tyre's winter has gained another dead person to be buried.

He was someone's husband, someone's son, someone's brother. His name and story were destined to be submerged in the torrent of time and history, never to be mentioned by anyone again.

The truth will be completely forgotten.
-
Meanwhile, the party ended.

(End of this chapter)