Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 668 Let me see your true face
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Ten thousand years later, on the Iron Blood, also known as the Iron of Destiny, a Fulgrim named Pallas gasped.

"What the hell is this?! Horus?!" he shouted loudly, and at the same time wanted to get up and walk around the room - because he really didn't know how to express how he felt when he saw that face and that armor being dragged into the cold night of Satya.

As a clone of one of the two brothers who had accompanied him the longest in the early days of the Horus Heresy ten thousand years ago, Ferrus Manus, Fulgrim Ishtar from another world, and he himself knew a very subtle thing:
As Fulgrim Pallas grew older and wiser, he was able to recall some memories before the cells that "made him" left him. These images and fragments were like a voice-activated video recorder in Pallas' mind, and from time to time, they would suddenly start playing something that he didn't want to watch but couldn't help watching, and then he would either feel grief and murderous or dig out an image of the Terran Palace with his toes.

So, for a long time, he had been fighting these images by distracting himself with other things and the work at hand.

He is now pursuing his own value in family, friendship, the meaning of work, victory in battle and building the future, and trying to convince the most stubborn and oldest Iron Hands masters on Medusa with his own hands and actions - of course he didn't have to do this, after all, Ferrus Manus was here, and they would not disobey their father's orders even if he forced them to bow their heads.

But Pallas, who was eager to distinguish himself completely from "that" Fulgrim, chose to try to sink to the bottom. He worked, he studied, and learned from everyone who was willing to contact and talk to him the stories they brought. Some life stories were very dull and trivial, while some life stories were just small footnotes to an earth-shaking event or one of the unknown details.

After arriving at Wandering Port, such sinking became easier because of the illusion camouflage that Magna borrowed from one of the two Perturabos. Sometimes Pallas even began to wonder whether the Primarchs were made so huge, apart from the very simple belief that "big is good, big is power"?
"——Then I do think that when the Emperor designed you, he never intended for you to blend in with humans...or the people. Your appearance and body shape have completely isolated you from the possibility of becoming mortals and understanding mortals. You know, Pallas," when he said this, he, Magna and the two Perturabos were sitting on the observation deck at the top of Central Park, enjoying the breeze. They were surrounded by artificial sunsets, and in the distance, the civilians of Wandering Port were taking a walk after get off work and dinner, and there were also the shouts of children chasing and playing. "Giant... Goliath, in the legends of the old Earth, must be killed by the king to establish his authority."

Of course, this lazy remark was immediately diverted from Pallas's thoughts by Magna with other questions. That night they secretly went to the Sailor Bar in the downtown area for an adventure. It was an unforgettable night. For the first time, they learned how the sailors under the bridge and the people below the deck lived and had fun. They also met several interesting friends who might even be on the edge of crime.

The last pride of Chemos Phoenix gradually faded away in the life and study in Wandering Port, but this was not a disappearance, but a replacement, just like the gold existing in the vast ores was gradually refined and began to shine.

His pride still exists within himself, but it no longer needs to be expressed through rituals, appearance, words and deeds. It runs through his insides, supporting his new self-confidence, relaxation, rationality and tranquility, which in turn infects everyone who comes into contact with him.

Fulgrim Pallas found himself becoming more popular among mortals and actually became an expert at listening. He learned how to speak and greet like a mortal; how to gain the trust of a mortal he met by chance, sharing a glass of wine and a story at a bar; finally, he found that he had learned how to think like a mortal.

When he understood that moment, he seemed to hear a voice deep in the remains of a distant ancient star, cursing in anger and shouting in joy at the same time. At that moment, he understood that it was precisely because of the imperfections of all things in the world that people pursue perfection. If everything went as they wished and everything was perfect, then perhaps in the end they would choose to break perfection and make it imperfect -

“Enough is enough.”

This sentence, which had appeared repeatedly in the scene they had been watching before, rang in his ears like a magic sound.

He jumped up in shock, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the screwdriver.

Opposite him sat Leman Russ, his eyes twinkling. He had just repeated what his offspring had said many times ten thousand years before. At that moment, Fulgrim thought he saw a wolf as huge as the world lurking in the shadow of Russ's backlight, baring its fangs.

The young Phoenix then came to his senses and found himself gasping for breath. The sticky feeling of his soul being instantly sucked away by the colorful vortex lingered. It was not until the white dove flew over and huddled on top of his head again that he felt his mind gradually returning to the sober reality.

"What was that just now?" he asked breathlessly.

"Oh, I don't know," said Ruth blandly, "it must be some speciality of your time, but it obviously doesn't like me."

Magna flashed a line of words, "It seems that facing the specific image of Horus caused you to feel uncomfortable... We must be careful to prevent this from happening in the future, Pallas. Fortunately, Rus and "Him" are here today, but we may not be so lucky in the future."

"I will," Pallas promised, still in shock. "I will remember to be careful about this."

"We all do."

"So if they take Horus to another point in time, won't it cause big problems in the entire universe? Just now they said that they used Casper's dreams to form the Geller force field to catch him. It shows that they are in different times." Phoenix, realizing how he had just lost his composure, began to try to bring the topic back to the scene in front of him.

"Then let's take a look." Magna flashed a line of words, "At least for now, I personally don't think this guy is 'Horus Lupercal' - or rather, most of the time he is not him."

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As soon as the armored figure landed, the color of the armor returned to pearl white and gold, but the expression on his face did not return to its original arrogance and superiority. He staggered to his feet, with a bloody mark on his face. He gnashed his teeth and wanted revenge - he was four or five meters tall, or even taller - wielding the strange enemy blade to try to kill anyone who dared to approach him -

Then, amid the sheepdog's angry and panicked roar, the tip of the enemy's blade struck the man closest to him, Perturabo, actually Ramizane Kalosini.

That moment.

In the perception of many ordinary people or those without wisdom, the world somehow stopped for a moment, but because it was very short and the scope was so comprehensive, it did not affect the daily life of most life in the galaxy at all. If there was an observer, he would only see that the entire universe was like a stuck picture, and it flowed smoothly to the next second in a pause that was almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

But to the greatest beings, the most powerful psychics, or the most advanced beings who are extremely sensitive to precision technology, what happened just now was just like someone stole a picture of time in the universe. No one knows what happened in that stolen picture, because it has been "stolen" from the image of the "entire universe". There is no divination or prophecy, or even time travel to see this picture. All that can be known is that this picture has been "taken away", and other than that, everything is in vain.

The next second, the Nemesis Blade was thrown aside. The non-stone and non-metal material fell on the smooth exposed stone at the bottom of the canyon with a dull clanging sound. It was thrown away like a worthless weapon.

The being that was holding it began to roll on the ground with its face covered, wailing and screaming. Magnus stood there as if frozen, staring at the stagnant back of Perturabo.

Othrel stood up staggeringly, panting. The bleeding of his left arm had stopped thanks to the Astartes' healing mechanism. He stared at the tumbling thing vigilantly, holding his plasma pistol in one hand. Ahriman was unable to stand up. Blood was oozing from his lips. Fresh internal organs were steaming and sliding out from the cut muscle and bones. "Leave me alone!" He said to Ushizar so sternly. "You are not Hathor Mat - you might as well go help Lord Magnus stabilize the surrounding barrier... ahem, don't let this thing escape!" "What? Isn't this Lord Wolf God?!" Ornn Evilwinter shouted in surprise, but at the same time he did not hesitate at all. He immediately pulled out his axe and held it in his hand.

"This is not him! This is a demon! The biggest demon we have ever seen!" Othrel said, "Be careful! It is very powerful!"

The sheepdog made a series of guttural sounds, no one could understand what he was saying, and he had no time to type. The black and white spotted dog jumped in front of the Lord of Iron who was kneeling on one knee, and circled around him anxiously, rubbing his head and ears against him affectionately, and even licking him with his tongue. It was exactly the look that a pet dog could show, wagging its tail as it was most worried about its owner - this made the two Thousand Sons cast strange glances at the two Space Wolves, and the latter two pretended not to see it.

But the evil spirit they were wary of still seemed to be in great pain and had no time to launch more attacks on them. It had the huge appearance of Horus, so realistic, and its pearly white power armor was stained with camel-colored dust and colorful moss juice as it rolled in pain. The smooth paint plating was scratched by the sharp stone slabs, revealing the original color of the metal underneath, and the wolfskin cloak was covered with dust.

“Uh…what on earth is this…” The Lord of Steel finally spoke from the other end, “I…I…I…I…it’s me.”

The being with the face of Horus cried out in pain, arched his huge body, and the joints of his power armor creaked.

"Oh oh baby, it's you, yes, yes. I remember, don't worry."

The four Astartes present also had extremely distorted expressions on their faces, and two of them looked like they wanted to remove their ears immediately. Magnus was stunned again, and with trembling lips, he began to look back and forth between the two Primarch brothers in stiff shock.

The spirit let out a wail, its hands grasping at its own face, fingers twitching in despair to resist the impending announcement.

"Don't worry, baby, I think I have a clue who this is... Let me see your true face!"

The Lord of Steel patted the head of the Wolf King in relief and slowly stood up. The LOGOS armor was almost intact, with only a brand new crack, but there was no blood around it. The Enemy Blade just scratched the thick surface and lining of the armor, probably just a little bit, and the tip just touched the skin of the body.

With a horrifying sound of flesh and skin being separated, as easily as a ripe fruit pod bursting, the evil spirit tore off Horus' face from his own face. There were sticky threads of juice connecting the face to the object underneath, and more crystal clear liquid flowed down his chin like sweet and greasy honey.

This time Magnus exclaimed before Ahriman and Ushizar.

"Amon?!"

As the juice flowed, on top of the wolf-god Horus' body and surrounded by his armor, the face with a look of pain was none other than Amon, the captain of the Ninth Academy of the Thousand Sons Legion, the Primarch's former mentor and current attendant.

The body of the Primarch and the face of the Astartes, the sight was so horrible and strange.

"No, that's not right!" "How could this happen?!" "Did you really do this, brother?!"

"Not him," the thing in the Lord of Steel said. "Show me your true form."

There was another tearing and breaking sound. This time, the liquid that splashed and flowed was the color of milk, emitting an unpleasant bitter taste. Amon's face was thrown away like a peeled orange peel, and then was crushed into an even softer shape under the opponent's weight.

This time the face revealed was that of a mortal. Magnus, Ahriman and Ulhizar did not recognize him, but the Rune Priest did.

"Navid Murza." Othrel frowned, "This mortal... I didn't expect..."

"Who is he?"

"This mortal was a colleague and companion of the poet before he came to Fenris. But he is believed to have died, before he came to Fenris."

"Yes," said the pale Casper, who had just woken up and witnessed Murza's face appearing from under Amon's skin. He looked like he wanted to vomit. "That's him! I remember! That's him! Murza is dead! But it was his face I saw in the orbital platform room on Terra that day! That was the trigger mechanism! Because Murza was already dead at that time! A dead friend appeared in an impossible place! The fear of that moment gave my mind an opportunity! Then I gave up all the dreams and goals that were within my reach and set off directly to Fenris!"

The evil spirit lying and rolling on the ground seemed exhausted. It struggled and its body began to shrink into the size of a mortal. Its power armor turned into a soft scholar's robe, and it stretched out its hands toward Casper pleadingly.

"No." said the being.

"Show me your true face."

This can’t be! This shouldn’t be! It’s not the right time! This is not—the crystal fragments exploded like meteors, curses were heard from behind the banquet curtain, skulls on both sides of the throne were knocked to the ground, and the creatures in the garden frantically looked for a place to hide in the anger.

"Show me your true face."

"Let me see your true face."

(End of this chapter)