Fulgrim originally thought he could see a city, but now, he found that he was wrong.
He stood blankly on the top of the gloomy spire. His brothers stood side by side like him. Only one person squatted comfortably on the head of the gargoyle extending from the edge. His posture was so natural that he seemed to belong here naturally.
The stench that hit his nose and the gunshots coming from the street made the handsome demigod frown uncontrollably.
He didn't need to turn his head to know the expressionless expressions on Rogal Dorn and Ferus's faces at this moment, as well as the way Luojia frowned and thought about their father's order.
If they could endure it, so could he.
"...Conrad?" he whispered. "Where is this?"
"Quintus."
Crouching on top of the gargoyle, his brother answered in rough Gothic.
Hissing, it didn't sound remotely related to High Gothic, and the accent was still strong. However, his voice was very soft, and there was a strange habituality in it.
Fulgrim pursed his lips, and Konrad Curze's tattered clothes made him look away - this clothes could not hide the young primarch's extraordinary physique, but it could mean something else.
"confusion."
A calm voice said. "I don't see any order, not even bad order. Conrad Coates, why is this here?"
Fulgrim couldn't help but sigh, and he heard a calm questioning in Rogal Dorn's tone.
"Because the Purge is coming," said their young brother. "Once in twenty years, Khalil said, things were more chaotic the last time."
"Purge?"
"Yes."
"Haven't you thought of doing something?" Roger Dorn asked.
"What to do?" Conrad Coates asked, his tone calm.
Fulgrim was horrified, thinking that their new brother was about to start arguing with Rogge - something that was not unusual and happened to anyone who spoke to Rogge Dorn.
But he didn't want to see this happen to a one and a half year old child.
However, Dorn remained silent. After a while, he spoke: "...You don't know what to do, do you?"
"I know," said Conrad Coates. "Khalil told me what to do."
"Why do you let him tell you what to do?"
Rogal Dorn's voice was still calm, but Fulgrim had already begun to blink rapidly - he turned to look at Ferus, only to find that the latter was holding his hands and sighing silently.
Luojia stood next to Ferus, turned her head silently, and looked at each other with Fulgrim, with a somewhat complicated expression.
No one spoke.
"Why not?" said Conrad Coates. "At least, so far, Khalil has been right."
"You are a Primarch, Konrad Curze. Maybe you don't know what that word means yet, but you will soon. You will have a great responsibility. This responsibility It requires you to think for yourself instead of relying on a mortal."
"Khalil is not a mortal."
"Yes, he's a psyker, but that doesn't mean much."
Konrad Curze stood up from the gargoyle—and for a moment, Fulgrim thought his brother's face would be filled with anger or something similar. If anything, Fulgrim understood him.
but none.
There is only a kind of peace.
He walked back to the top of the building, shorter than them all but poised past them and leaning against a hum of machinery.
Then he smiled. The smile was stiff and even made people question the meaning behind it. However, the Primarchs present did not misunderstand.
They could see Conrad Curze's eyes and knew there was no malice in them.
Fulgrim pursed his lips, wondering what kind of mentality Konrad Curze had in facing Rogal Dorn's words.
He thought, if someone used the words "Colin is just a worker" to communicate with me, I might do something irrational.
"You don't know him very well, Mr. Roger Dorn."
"Call me Rogge, or Dorne - you don't need to add that honorific to my name. You and I are brothers."
"Not yet," Conrad Coates said quietly.
"..."
The cold wind blew, and then, silence.
Of course, they cannot penetrate the skin of the demigods. In fact, even if the temperature is much lower, it will not make them feel uncomfortable at all.
However, in this cold wind, these tall giants fell silent, except for one of the shorter ones who was still leaning comfortably on the air filter, calm and comfortable.
"What does it mean?"
Rogal Dorn asked, then slowly frowned, a serious expression slowly blooming on his face. Fulgrim watched his expression slowly change, and for the first time he felt that the atmosphere had become stagnant.
Ah, something is wrong. He thought silently.
"Not yet," Konrad Coates repeated. "You are his sons, right?"
"Of course." Luo Jia replied quickly.
"But I don't know if I am," Conrad Coates said. "And I wouldn't be your brother if I wasn't."
"You can't not be," Ferus whispered. "The blood connection, brother, can't you feel it?"
A pair of dark eyes looked over, and then the person being questioned nodded slowly, but then shook his head, his silky black hair flying in the stinky air.
He was obviously wearing tattered patchwork clothes, but at this moment he was so calm that it seemed natural.
"How could you not be?" Luo Jia asked anxiously, as if she wanted to prove something. "Father said that you are his son——"
"—Not yet, Mr. Golden," said Conrad Coates. "Also, I'm sorry for interrupting you."
Fulgrim almost smiled.
He kept looking into their new brother's eyes, so he knew that Konrad Curze was truly sorry for what had happened. He interrupted Luo Jia, called him Mr. Golden, and later apologized for it.
he did not do it on purpose. Fulgrim thought after laughing. He is so simple.
"...My name is Lorgar, Lorgar Aurelion."
'Mr. Golden' said in a reluctant tone: "But, Conrad Coates, you are really his son."
He was silent for a while, then suddenly waved his arms sincerely: "If you are not, why are you so tall and powerful? Your agility in jumping and moving in the night sky is not something that mortals can possess!"
"...Why do you all use the word mortal?"
Konrad Coates frowned. This was the first time he showed such an unhappy and confused look: "I don't understand the way you use it - am I not a mortal?"
"Of course you're not."
Fulgrim explained softly, his attitude was very gentle, even so gentle that Ferrus on the side was a little surprised.
"You learned High Gothic without any teacher, you can see in the dark, you can ignore the cold, resist hunger...and you are born to know many things, right, Conrad Coze?”
"right."
"Then you are not a mortal."
"But I'll get hurt."
Conrad Coates tilted his head. "I will still bleed - I will feel pain. These are the hallmarks of being a mortal, aren't they? Being hit by a laser gun will hurt, being hit by a bullet will hurt...don't you? "
For a moment, Fulgrim could hardly answer this sentence.
He was silent, and a look of astonishment suddenly flashed across his almost perfect, handsome face. He lowered his head, and when he raised it again, his expression had changed.
Now, he's serious.
"We will, brother," he whispered. "We're going to be in pain."
------------------
"We live here," Conrad Coates said.
He raised his hand and pointed to the small rainwater filter above the shelter, with a hint of happiness on his face: "That's a rainwater filter. It can turn acid rain into drinkable water."
Rogal Dorn stared silently at the terrible building in front of him. Some of his insistence made him unwilling to call this thing made of rotten boards and iron sheets a house.
Then he asked, "Can I go in and take a look?"
"Of course!" Conrad Coates nodded. "But please be careful when you come in, that door needs to be lifted to open - oh, and please don't sit in that chair, that's Khalil's."
"......I will."
Roger Dorn walked to the door. He looked at the door, pinched the door handle made of rusty bent metal with two fingers, and then slowly lifted it up.
Then, he pushed it open and saw an eerie darkness. It's less like a residence and more like a prison.
However, the darkness could not block Rogal Dorn's sight. He could see every corner without any hindrance.
There was no decoration, no soft beds, nothing to make the place look presentable.
The walls were vibrating because the wind was blowing. There are several gaps in the ceiling which means it leaks when it rains.
It protects neither wind nor rain.
Dorn looked silently at a corner covered with rags, and then at a tattered chair.
It was obviously human-sized, and Rogal Dorn could see just at a glance that there was something wrong with the chair—it was structurally unstable, so that the person sitting in it had to straighten his or her back.
This is not qualified for a chair, and there is a plastic dinner plate on the chair with a black substance that exudes a strange smell.
Rogal Dorn took a deep breath and got the information he needed.
"Is that food?"
He turned his head and asked Conrad Curze - the latter was being measured by Fulgrim. His expression looked very awkward, and he was obviously not used to such close contact.
Fulgrim also felt uncomfortable while doing this. He kept his mouth pursed and his expression was complicated.
"Yes, nutritional ointment, Khalil often takes it." Conrad Coates answered immediately.
"...There's not a lot of nutrients in that stuff, and it's probably going to be tasteless."
"Yes!" Conrad Coates nodded repeatedly. "That's what Khalil said."
"...So, you're just going to eat this?"
"Ah, no!" Conrad Coates blinked. "I occasionally catch some mice to eat."
"......mouse?"
"Yes."
When Dorn saw that their new brother actually smiled proudly, the smile was so clear that he almost gritted his teeth: "I know twenty-three ways of cooking mice!"
"Isn't there any normal food?" Ferrus Manus asked in a low voice.
"Isn't this just normal food?" Conrad Coates replied in confusion.
"..."
Donn lowered his head and didn't ask any more questions. He turned around and came to the edge of the building, staring at the scene below. After a while, he continued to speak.
"What do other people eat?"
he asked briefly and calmly, adding later. "I mean, those gang members - the ones that are patrolling the streets."
"..."
"Conrad?" Fulgrim asked in a low voice. "What's wrong?"
"...They eat meat."
Konrad Curze answered Dorn's question in a deep voice that, at this moment, hardly sounded like himself.
"Meat? What kind of meat?" Dorn continued to ask.
He was calm, but his hands were clenched. It was clear that he had sensed the answer to the question—at least part of it.
"...other people's flesh," Conrad Coates said. "The common people's, the workers'. But they don't eat their own, and they don't eat the nobles'."
Fulgrim's hand stopped - he was measuring the width of his shoulders. This task was very simple for him, and he had memorized a lot of data. However, at this moment, these data are disrupted.
His usually steady hand was even slightly trembling at the moment.
"Your Majesty the Emperor..." Lorgar Aurelion muttered to himself. "What is this place?"
"Nostramo," their pale brother said quietly. "Quintus, get down to the nest."
silence.
Huge silence swept over again, knocking down these giants easily. No one resisted its authority as dark purple clouds spread and rolled above them. The foul smell escaped in the cold wind.
Lorgar Aurelion began to chant in a low voice. Ferrus Manus folded his hands together and put them behind his back. Rogal Dorn remained as calm as ever, but his hands were clenched into fists.
Fulgrim stopped the trembling of his fingers, brushed his brother's shoulder calmly, and then patted him.
"Let's continue, shall we?" he asked softly.
"But Fogg——"
"——Fulgrim."
"Mr. Forgan."
"No sir."
"Fulgrim?"
"Yes, Conrad Fulgrim."
"But I don't want new clothes."
"why?"
"Because I'll get my clothes dirty."
Fulgrim heard his brother say. "Blood makes clothes feel heavy and hard when they dry. If you move, blood scabs will fall off the clothes. If I wore clothes like yours, I would stain them."
"...If it gets dirty, so what?" Fulgrim asked.
He didn't let himself sigh. He was afraid that he would misunderstand.
"Your clothes are beautiful."
Conrad turned his head and spoke softly. "Caryl told me that beautiful things usually mean precious, and precious things should be cherished, right?"
"Yes." Fulgrim smiled. "Precious things should indeed be cherished, yes...so I will make you a...well, more ordinary clothes, how about it?"
"Common?"
"Yes, it's the same color as the clothes you're wearing. But, it's waterproof - so it can prevent blood from soaking it. How about it?"
"...Will it bother you? Khalil said it's not good to bother other people."
"Of course not," Fulgrim said. "It's just a small thing."
"Then...thank you?"
No need to thank me.
Fulgrim sighed and turned his head, meeting Ferus' eyes. At this moment, a similar emotion to his was tumbling in the latter's eyes. They exchanged a few glances with each other and understood what the other meant.
Luo Jia was still chanting sutras, her face full of compassion. But Rogal Dorn turned and walked towards the shelter. He walked to the door, stopped, bent down and took out a chair that was too small for him.
"You can't fit in that chair, Rogal Dorn," Conrad Curze said hesitantly.
"I won't sit down," Dawn said calmly. "I'm going to fix it."
"Fix it?"
"Yes."
Dawn nodded and lifted the chair up, his strength allowing him to do it easily. However, he held the chair carefully.
"It's just a little structural issue, and with a little extra wood or metal, I can fix it."
"...Well, there's an old useless water purifier behind the shelter."
Conrad Coates blinked, puzzled. "It might help you. But why would you want to fix it?"
"...Because I want to express my apology." Rogal Dorn said with his back turned to him.
"Apologise?" Conrad Coates asked blankly. Fulgrim behind him was even more confused than him, and even Luojia stopped reciting scriptures and looked over.
Ferus raised his eyebrows slowly.
"Don't be surprised," Rogal Dorn said with his back to them. "If you do something wrong or say the wrong thing, you should express your apology. And the best way is to do something to make up for it."
"You've never done this before..." Fulgrim whispered.
"That's because I haven't missed it before."
"Including your claim that Magnus reads books all day long as a form of mental paranoia?"
"Yes."
Fulgrim finally laughed.
He patted Konrad Curze on the shoulder: "This is Rogal Dorn, Konrad. This is him. You don't know what his apology means yet. But, believe me, when we all meet each other This will surprise everyone once we meet.”
------------------
"Number seventeen."
"No. 17?"
"Yes, No. 17." The pale giant nodded. "I'll number them."
Ferrus Manus looked at the gargoyle.
They had jumped many times from the tops of spires and buildings, and Ferrus had seen many gargoyles. In his opinion, this one was no different from all the others.
"Number them in the order you saw them?" Ferrus asked.
"Yes. But some of the gargoyles don't and I don't want to number them."
"why?"
Fulgrim glanced at Ferrus in surprise, not expecting him to be so interested in this question.
"Um......"
Konrad Coates pondered for a moment and said: "Because, they should have their own names, not numbers. I numbered those gargoyles because I don't know how to name them yet, but..."
He frowned and paused, as if he didn't know how to express himself.
Fortunately, Ferus did not ask further questions.
"It's true, if you value something, you should give it a name."
Fulgrim pursed his lips and smiled.
The giant known as 'Gorgon' looked at him expressionlessly, and then continued. His voice was low but powerful.
He asked, "You keep mentioning a man, Conrad. Khalil Lohars, can you introduce him to us?"
Luo Jia looked over suddenly.
"Hmm..." The pale giant nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, but I don't know where to start."
"What's his personality like?" Ferus asked.
"......ah?"
"Has he ever lost his temper with you?"
"No," Conrad Coates said quickly. "Never - and he always apologizes to me."
He frowned.
"I don't like this," he whispered. "No matter what happened, whether it was his fault or not, he would always apologize to me. I didn't like that."
He raised his head and looked at Ferus, who was expressionless but nodded, as if encouraging him to continue.
"And... he was very smart, very patient, told me a lot of things and knew a lot of things... but, he was very pessimistic."
"He's pessimistic?" Roger Dorn repeated. "Why do you describe him like that?"
"I can't give a reason."
Conrad Coates shook his head.
"Khalil was always pessimistic. He never said it, but I knew how he viewed Nostramo. I told him once that the world was sick, and he didn't contradict me. He just laughed."
"From that time on, I knew that he was pessimistic. He smiled because he felt that Nostramo's disease was incurable... He even wanted to burn the world with fire."
"But I can understand him."
“Workers in shantytowns dying of tuberculosis on the roadside, children who choose to join gangs and eat cannibals, meat sold in butcher shops… miners… nobles… and Those hallucinogens..."
His voice began to grow deeper and softer, and by the end, it was almost like talking in his sleep.
"Those things made him miserable. He never said it, but I could see how upset he was."
"..."
Silent, Ferus shook his head - he was not very good at words, and compared to his brothers, he was even more terrifying.
He also knows his own character very well, he is aggressive by nature and stubborn in will. But that's just an external appearance. Among the many brothers, only one can detect his fondness for conquering difficulties.
The man called him Gorgon.
Ferus doesn't hate this nickname, it can even be said that he likes it a little. He thought it fit as well as the hammer Fulgrim had given him.
But now - the steel Gorgon raised his hand and patted Konrad Coze on the shoulder.
"You saw his pain," he whispered. "That's especially important, man, keep it up."
His brother looked at him blankly - and after half a second Ferrus Manus smiled for the first time, and there was nothing but kindness in his smile.
Above the heads of the demigods, the night continued.
