Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 77 Sound, Light, and Color

The singing was soothing and harmonious, but it sounded even louder in Telma's ears.

This made his head feel increasingly dizzy.

I really want to
I really want to follow in the footsteps of this voice and go find out what's going on.

There's an urge to abandon all the tedious tasks at hand and put everything else aside just for the enjoyment of this sound.

"calm down."

Telma slowed his pace, took several deep breaths, and regained his composure.

His heart was in constant turmoil.

Just as he took a deep breath, a pleasant musky scent filled his mouth and nose.

"What's that smell? Thorne, can you smell it?"

Telma subconsciously touched the helmet he was wearing.

To prevent them from being attacked by poison gas and external radiation at any time, they have always used the self-circulating air system inside the power armor.

It's impossible for an unfiltered odor to reach inside one's power armor.

The readings on the helmet also showed that everything was normal.

But he could still smell that suffocating odor.

"Yes. I can smell it too."

Thorne's affirmative voice came from behind him.

It’s weird.

Or rather, nothing they saw ever seemed normal since they entered the ruins.

Telma had a premonition.

The enemy they encounter this time is very likely to be completely different from those they have faced before.

He gripped the explosive pistol tightly in his hand.

The passage became increasingly damp as they descended, and Telma felt as if he were crawling through the entrails of some kind of sea monster.

Moreover, the light in the passageway changed from dim to bright as they descended.

Finally, the narrow passage reached its end in front of a door.

This door is also unusual.

Upon closer inspection, the reliefs depicting unrestrained dancers and revelers wearing various masks are vivid and lively.

This is an extremely beautiful relief sculpture.

The Sons of the Emperor is a Space Marine legion that highly values ​​art and beauty.

Even a rough and impatient recruit like Telma possesses a certain talent for artistic appreciation.

(Except for Aqua)

Even he, the emperor's son who often admires countless paintings by famous Terran artists at the Phoenix Grand Theatre, still couldn't help but stop in his tracks when he saw this beautiful mural.

nice.

So beautiful.

Whether it was the dancer's voluptuous yet elegant demeanor, her makeup and appearance, or her lascivious attire...
Even the prominence of the stage beneath her body exudes a magical power that draws all eyes to her.

Telma was completely engrossed in watching.

He subconsciously reached out and gently touched this masterpiece that could surpass all others in the world.

As he drew closer, the girl's coquettish laughter mingled with soft whispers in his ear.

He could almost smell the fragrance emanating from the beautiful dancer, just as intoxicating as the pink mist he had smelled.

Thelma's hand unconsciously pushed open the door, and her previously tense body relaxed.

He couldn't quite remember why he had come here.

The sights, sounds, and colors before him made him feel as if he were immersed in a colorful world.

You don't need to do anything, you don't need to think about anything.

It was as if a guest invited to a party strode in with his head held high.

"Telma, watch out!"

It seemed like someone was calling his name from behind.

Who is that? And why is he calling out to him?
who cares.

None of that matters anymore.

Nothing matters anymore.

Telma's mind gradually sank into this intoxicating state. The layout of the room was surprisingly consistent with the reliefs on the front door: it was a perfect palace filled with the ultimate enjoyment of sound, light, and color.

The spheres of light hanging high above shimmered with various colors, and six beautiful paintings adorned the walls throughout the spacious room. A light whiff revealed a captivating array of fragrances, as gentle and alluring as a young girl's whisper in one's ear.

A feeling of blissful intoxication, like being slightly tipsy, filled his body.

All sorts of guests gathered together, filling every corner of the stage, craning their necks to look at the stage covered by a deep purple curtain.

Beautiful maids moved among the guests, giggling as they offered them delicacies and "services".

As a Chemos who underwent Space Marine transformation at a young age, Telmar, who had absolutely no experience in this area, felt both shy and secretly interested.

Amidst the surrounding laughter, Telma found himself sitting down in an open space, his eyes fixed on the stage before him, anticipating an art performance that would overturn his previous imaginations and unfold in this perfect place.

He is very much looking forward to it.

I do not know how long it has been.

With his attention highly focused, Telma had long since forgotten about time.

He could only, and only wanted to, see the beautiful dancer behind the curtain who haunted his dreams.

He was very anxious.

Why aren't you hurrying up!
How long are we going to make him wait?
fast!
Let me see it! Let me see it!

Telma's heart was being rapidly emptied, and an indescribable urgency and hunger were constantly squeezing his body and mind.

It seemed as if all the value and justification for his existence were poured into that dream dancer.

Fortunately, this urgency did not last long.

As he stared intently ahead, the curtain seemed to be being lifted little by little.

The woman of his dreams seemed to be right in the center of the stage.

He saw the beautiful dancer, more beautiful and more lifelike than the reliefs on the gate.

But it seems the other party didn't immediately begin dancing.

The dancer's eyes suddenly widened.

His throat opened, but he couldn't utter a single word.

It felt as if something had grabbed my throat.

Only a soft, painful cry came from her heart, filling those present with sorrow.

Then, that painful whimper slowly transformed into...
A pitiful wail.

A heart-wrenching scream!!!
She was howling and shouting!

But that shrill, trembling scream could not possibly have come from the mouth of a beautiful woman.

It wouldn't even be a human.

That dancer wasn't human.

Wait, then what is he here for?!

Telma looked at herself as if waking from a dream.

wrong!

I, Telmar, am a Space Marine, son of the Emperor of the Third Legion, and I have come here to carry out the great mission entrusted to me by Primarch Vorgrim.

I'm not here to attend some random banquet!
His dazed mind returned to normal at that moment.

Where am I? What am I doing?
She is—

It's fire!

Golden-red flames burned on the dancer's body!

"Jie Jie Jie!"

"I've finally caught you, little thing!"

From within her subspace portal, which shimmered with countless purple lights, emerged a right hand covered in numerous fine golden-red cracks.

It's fire.

Fire engulfed everything in the hall.

　Regarding the writing style.

　　These days I've been reading various versions of the original novels about the Emperor's son. The multi-narrative style is also inspired by the original novels.

　　However, I've seen feedback from many people saying they don't like it written this way.

　　I apologize, perhaps I didn't understand the difference between the writing styles of traditional books and online novels before.

　　If people don't like it, I won't write it like this anymore.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)