Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 30 The Birth of Fire

Chapter 30 The Birth of Fire
That was when he was young, only two or three hundred years old.

In a mountain cave, he wielded a piece of charred charcoal, using it as a brush to paint on the stone wall.

His pen strokes are lively and melodious.

The painting depicts many creatures: domesticated cattle and sheep, wild beasts, lush vegetation, and strange and mischievous spirits.

There are people too.

People he knows well, like Uncle Or, the shepherd next door; and many other people he doesn't know very well yet.

At the very center of this mural is a magnificent throne.

He sat upright in the middle, a smile on his face.

This is not art or decoration, but a commemoration.

A commemoration of the future.

This came from what he sensed, the revelation from the lively spirits beyond the known universe.

Just as he originated from the essence of countless shamanic souls, these harmonious and benevolent spirits are inhabitants of a deeper spiritual world.

There, they taught him magic and the power of prophecy, allowing him to glimpse a bright future.

With beautiful visions for the future, they danced and sang together.

Click.

A short click came from his hand.

The charcoal in his hand broke at that moment.

Beautiful murals, and hypocritical friendship.
That's the end of it.

In his horrified eyes, the demons tore off their elven disguises, revealing their true forms, adorned with fangs.

They laughed wildly, devouring the future he had envisioned.

Countless dewdrops seeped from the dry stone wall, staining his painting into a dark, dull charcoal stain.

Animals, plants, and people were all blurred into a mass of pitch-black ink.

There is no other color besides that.

And he, sitting on the throne, gradually merged with the throne behind him.

In the mural, his eyes are stained with dew, and black tears are streaming down his face.

The future depicted in the painting has been destroyed.

He was torn to shreds by those elves he had previously considered benevolent, who grinned maliciously.

He was wrong.

It was wrong from the start.

Spirits from beyond the world are never benevolent.

They simply concealed their venomous fangs, waiting for the other party's trust, waiting for the best opportunity to bite.

And once the time is ripe, they will reveal their true intentions in this way: to devour and enslave the souls and spirits of humanity, squeezing out their last drop of blood and their last breath.

Humanity's future, and his future, will be like this painting, forever shrouded in boundless darkness.

forever.

He rested his chin on his hand, sitting cross-legged beneath the damaged mural.

Under the woven fabric of sympathetic magic, he saw the three largest and most dangerous terrifying beings.

Like three towering, insurmountable mountains, they cast an overwhelming shadow, shrouding humanity's future in darkness.

There will likely be more in the future.

Four, five. No.

Eight.

Eight demons, in eight directions.

Countless, endless, and immortal enemies.

The torchlight flickered, illuminating his sorrowful face.

What will the future hold?
He shed a single hot tear.

Perhaps it was for his own sake.

Perhaps it was for those he deeply loved.

You saw his hesitation and confusion.

You decide to help him.

He is extremely wary of you.

Having been betrayed once before, he would never trust anyone from the other side of the soul again.

You saw the doubt and distrust in his eyes.

But you believe he will recognize your sincerity.

You gave him the ball of golden-red flame in your hand.

The flames flickered, dispelling the darkness, burning away the ink stains on the stone wall, and scorching the demons into a frenzy.

The painting, which symbolized the future, took a turn for the better from that point on.

You saw the surprise and joy in his eyes.

You inform him:
Your people, like him, were once troubled by these demons.

But as long as this flame can be raised high, no evil spirit or demon will be able to hide.

At your urging, he cautiously and carefully picked up the flame and gently protected it.

On this day, he came to realize the reality of the subspace.

Then, he obtained [Fire].

"Whoosh!" Kasgar felt as if he were in a cold body of water, struggling to swim to the surface.

He sat up abruptly and looked around.

The walls inside the room were pure white, and the medical operatives moved slowly along the rollers.

Apart from the operating table, Melusin was also in the room with her power armor and her signature surgical tool backpack, her back to him.

"woke up?"

She asked Casca with her back to her.

".Um."

"Where am I? What time is it?"

Cold sweat soaked his back.

Everything in the world became clearer and slower in his eyes.

It's as if they've been equipped with a high-definition camera, capturing every detail of the world.

Is the renovation complete?

He immediately stood up, and even though he was still a little unsteady due to adapting to his new body, his speed was still far greater than before.

Moreover, the entire room appeared several times smaller.

Even Melusin, who originally looked very tall, was now a whole head shorter than him.

Looking at his own body, his muscles had expanded considerably compared to before, making him look as fit and muscular as an ancient Greek sculpture without appearing bulky.

Casca stretched its limbs in a showy manner.

It feels pretty good.

After their transformation, the Space Marines of the Third Legion were generally more agile and slender, a characteristic resulting from the Gene Seed.

Furthermore, his hair is prone to turning white and silver-white, but judging from the mechanical reflections on the side, Casca's appearance does not change significantly.

The key change is still in body shape.

A little high.

Now I've become a master myself.

"Holy Terra".

"Your initial transformation took about three months."

"The Imperial Guards finished modifying you in the Emperor's laboratory and then handed you over to me, asking me to complete the next steps, saying that the previous modifications were confidential."

She seemed very unhappy.

It was a great regret for her that she couldn't personally visit the secret laboratory beneath the Terra Palace.

While they were chatting, the equipment behind Casca completed its scan.

“Height 8’5’’ (2m56), slightly tall. But considering the special modification method, it is still within a reasonable range.”

"Power armor may require additional modifications or customization."

"Look at my finger, how many is this?"

"three."

"Normal vision and normal cognitive abilities."

Fortunately, he's not Gabe Newell (GabeN).

"what."

Kasga suddenly felt a sting on his arm, like a bee sting.

"The pain is normal."

Then he saw a mechanical limb on the other person's back, stabbing fiercely at him.

Perhaps when Casca was still a mortal, such a swift attack would have been impossible to dodge. But at this moment, in his eyes, the machine appeared surprisingly slow.

He immediately reached out and grabbed it.

"Nanosecond-level reaction time, acceptable."

“Logically, the anesthesia shouldn’t have worn off yet,” Melusin said expressionlessly, recording some readings onto the machine. “How did you wake up?”

"Um"

Kasgar recalled his previous dream and fell into deep thought.

Um... Is he passing the fire to Old Man Huang?

Can this be said?
Let's keep it a secret for now.

"I dreamt that you turned into a bald, white-haired old man, and while you were chuckling lewdly, you were pouring me a drink—"

Bang!
This time, he saw the other person's fist hurtling towards his face.

See clearly.

He reached out to block it.

"Ow!"

But the power of the power armor was something that a mere semi-modified recruit like him could not contend with.

"Intelligence level: no higher than that of the Euglin barbarians."

Melusin said expressionlessly.