On board the Terminal, in a room that was as rotten as a cyst, a bloated figure was meditating.
The thick and rotten Terminator armor on his body was covered with eternal dirt that had existed during the Horus Heresy ten thousand years ago. A chimney symbolizing the plague grew out from behind, and slowly spewed out the miasma of destruction. Huge flies darted in and out of the gaps in his armor.
After a moment, the bloated giant raised his head slightly, and on the cracked helmet, a huge horn traced a trajectory in the dirty air.
The air here is so viscous and so deadly that ordinary beings would be covered in ulcers just by touching it, but for this giant, it is as comfortable as being in a sauna.
But now he has no time to enjoy all this. He is communicating with a mysterious existence.
it has no face
Or, at least he couldn't make out its face.
Every time he tried to focus on the other person, the being's features became blurry, like an overexposed image.
If he squints at the other person and slides the focus past it, he can see certain features on it, although they are not eye-catching - he can see a dark green body and a decayed branch.
But every time his gaze came closer, trying to discern more, the other person's face gradually became hazy.
He is like a ghost, floating without weight or real form, not bound by the body, hiding himself in protective spells and hiding his existence by performing rituals, but the other party still turns his vague child-like face to he,
The form looked at him with such amazing power that it effortlessly penetrated his defenses.
"Destroy the fly nest..."
It said in a language that had long since died but that he could still understand:
“The dead wood is growing.”
The next moment, a spasm brought him back to his body on the Terminus, and at that moment he appeared in two places at the same time.
He could smell the thick incense surrounding him, hear the chants of the priests around him, and feel the vibration of the ship's engine. However, he was also in the unfathomable vast ocean of subspace, and visions took him there. Once there, it was wrapped in hazy darkness and a void filled with that powerful will.
But then the illusion began to crack like a defective crystal, leaving only the blurry face approaching him. He felt uneasy, but could not look away.
He could see its eyes now, and it allowed him to look into them, shining through the unfathomable darkness, piercing him like pinpricks of light.
He began to try to escape and return to his own body, but the other party caught him and trapped him with his will.
The other person's face was now very close, filling his field of vision, trembling and flashing violently in front of him.
A dizzying succession of images, feelings and emotions flashed through his mind at that moment, overwhelming everything else, showing him these things, wanting him to see them.
Later, when he returned to his body, he could not recall exactly what he had seen. All he was left with was a vague sense of the burning yellow-green sky and the suppressed hum of countless demons.
He cannot understand them without context, nor can he know their purpose.
But he has taken these words to heart.
“The dead wood is growing.”
Then the opponent's bloated hands pushed him away, causing his soul to fly through the void, spinning out of control, and the images and feelings that appeared like lightning were cut off.
When he finally returned to the Terminus, the man who was replaced by Typhons smiled.
"Praise the Father."
Praising the eternal father of plagues, Typhonus stood up. Above him, a rotten cherub with the compound eyes of a fly exhaled a dizzying stream of smoke, and he inhaled it.
He awoke from his lucid dream and let the smoke linger in his lungs, the incense deadly to the weak.
But for this plague lord, it is just a little help when communicating with the natives of the subspace. The poison contained in it helps to open his soul and better allow them to express their wishes more easily.
Still, the messages they convey are often confusing and difficult to decipher.
But for Typhons, this is not very difficult.
Typhons, also known as Typhons the Traveler, was Calas Typhons when he was a Space Marine from Barbarossa.
But almost no one knows that Karas Typhon has the blood of a wizard, which also gives him the psychic talent that Mortarion, the original member of the Fourteenth Legion, hates most - because of his adoptive father, Mortarion Disapproves of the use of psychic powers and believes that this is not a power that a warrior should rely on.
So Typhons learned to suppress his psychic talent without any guidance, and disguised himself well, but the seeds of his dissatisfaction with the original body had already been quietly planted.
After becoming a Space Marine, Typhon's performance was very outstanding. No matter how fierce the battle, his spirit and body would appear very tough, so Mortarion quickly promoted him to the captain of the First Company, but this did not Instead of being grateful to his primarch, he dedicated his loyalty to another being.
The god of plague, Nurgle.
During the Heresy, Karas Typhon set a trap to trap the main fleet of the Death Guard Legion in the Warp. Then the plague began to spread among the Legion and the warships, tormenting every Death Guard, and Karas St. Typhon, on the other hand, absorbed all the power of the plague and became the container of ultimate decay.
His body became swollen, his skin fused to his armor, and Karas Typhon became Typhons, Lord of the Destruction Flies, and he led his legions into the abyss of eternal decay.
After the Death Guard collectively fell into the arms of Nurgle, Typhons remained the Lord of the First Plague Company and piloted the similarly corrupted battleship Terminus.
After Horus died in battle, the Heresy failed, and the Death Guard withdrew to the Eye of Terror.
However, Typhons was disgusted with the plague planet that the primarch Mortarion shaped after Barbarus. He believed that Mortarion was too sentimental, so he led an army alone to leave the new home planet to follow his father Nurgle. In the name of spreading undeserved blessings to the human empire.
Mortarion showed rare tolerance for Typhons's departure. He allowed his son, who had always been dissatisfied with him, to leave to create his own value, because he would not repeat the mistakes the Emperor had made against him.
From that day on, the two formed a tense and delicate relationship. Typhons returned to fight under Mortarion's command when necessary. At other times, Typhons could plunder the empire as he pleased.
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