Chapter 190: Creating God
"This was the Emperor's Scripture, personally written by the Eleventh God-Child himself. It told the complete story of Fulgrim, once immensely glorious...one of the most brilliant Primarchs of the entire Imperium...and how he ultimately betrayed the Emperor and fell into the dark embrace of evil itself."
"He succumbed to temptations and darkness again and again repeatedly, eventually choosing to side with evil without hesitation. He became the Daemon Primarch Fulgrim, betraying his former sacred vows and loyal brothers entirely."
Seeing this written before them, the surrounding believers wore somber expressions.
"However, it wasn't over yet..."
"Just as Fulgrim was about to fall entirely into evil forever, the Eleventh God-Child, imbued with the Emperor's own divine power, fought against the darkness directly. Finally, at the critical moment exactly, deep within Fulgrim's flesh and blood itself, a glimmer of unextinguished light still lurked there, a precious memory loyal to the Emperor."
"It was under the power of this loyalty that Fulgrim's 'resurrected body' was awakened fully: a Clone Fulgrim!"
"He seemed to have broken free from his own lost glory entirely, carrying endless loyalty and deep regret towards the Emperor. This Clone Fulgrim began his great mission immediately, to capture the fallen Fulgrim and, with his own power and deep emotions combined, redeem the controlled soul completely."
The hearts of the believers who witnessed this were stirred once again powerfully.
"As expected of the Eleventh God-Child! He truly sacrificed too much for us all!" one believer exclaimed loudly.
"Read it quickly! Scan it! There's more to the scripture!" another urged eagerly.
"Immediately after this, the Clone Fulgrim engaged his fallen self in a desperate struggle without mercy. The conflict between them was not merely a physical confrontation, but a struggle of souls, an internal battle deep within."
"The Clone repeatedly tried to persuade Fulgrim, speaking of the Emperor's eternal glory, their past sacred vows, and their responsibility to all humanity. Each time he touched the deep pain and regret within Fulgrim, the fallen one would waver slightly, as if seeing his former self clearly in that abyss of darkness."
Seeing this unfold, the believers were once again deeply touched in their softest hearts. How benevolent indeed!
"However, evil does not yield easily at all. The daemon's constant temptations still corroded Fulgrim's heart, and his Clone nearly fell several times dangerously."
"At the very last moment, exactly, the Clone let out a final cry desperately, knowing he could not complete this battle alone. His voice echoed across the empty battlefield clearly."
"The Emperor has not given up on you, Fulgrim!" he shouted with determination.
"At that instant precisely, Fulgrim's corrupted body trembled slightly before him. Evil magic surged towards him like a tide violently, yet it also seemed to be resisted by a powerful force within."
"Finally, Fulgrim's corrupted body was not completely defeated, but the Clone's power brought a glimmer of hope forward. He had not fallen completely into darkness; there was still a possibility of recovery remaining."
"In the very end, the Eleventh God-Child flew through the air above, gathering the power of the believers around him to suppress the corrupted body directly, while the Clone Fulgrim was tasked with guarding him carefully."
"Citizens of the Imperium, I need more faith to save Fulgrim!" the God-Child proclaimed loudly. "When the Clone Fulgrim reclaims everything that was his originally, a new Third God-Child will rise again! And evil will ultimately perish forever!"
"The scripture ended there. This was the last page. Francis, in his golden power armor, stood there before them with the sealed Fulgrim and his Clone at his feet below."
The story ended.
"The Third God-Child will definitely return!" An elderly believer, eyes bright with fervor, said loudly with conviction.
"The Emperor's light will illuminate everything!" another voice rang out.
"That's right! Our Third God-Child will definitely revive!" another believer roared passionately.
"Evil will never conquer light!"
The discussions intertwined, voices echoing through the temple as the believers pondered and speculated among themselves. This story, like a virus, quickly spread outward.
...
On the Abyss Howl, Francis watched Clone Fulgrim constantly punching, running, and exercising, like an oversized fly buzzing around endlessly.
"Uh, aren't you tired?" Francis asked him directly.
Clone Fulgrim replied while running continuously, "Not tired at all! I don't know what's going on exactly. I have endless strength! It's just like when the Emperor first brought me back!"
He paused mid-stride. Speaking of this, Clone Fulgrim's eyes flashed with confusion as he muttered aloud, "I seem to have gained some memories... what's going on with me..."
In fact, Francis had already been observing his state closely. Through the observations of the Hundred Eyes, he could see surges of energy crashing into Clone Fulgrim's body directly.
If this were the case, then it meant the 'nest-swapping' plan could truly be achieved through faith alone. As long as more people believed his story completely, Clone Fulgrim would continuously gain the power, and even the essence, of the original body itself. When the power of faith became strong enough, most of Fulgrim's power could be taken over completely.
Then the Clone would become the original, and the daemon original would become the Clone!
Thinking of this, Francis's mouth curved into a mad grin.
He thought of something else. If the power of faith were truly that strong, he could create another story, write about the Eleventh God-Child wearing sacred flesh armor, entering and exiting the Garden of Nurgle seven times to save the Eighth God-Child, Konrad Curze.
At that time, the flesh armor, empowered by faith, would be terrifyingly strong!
"Heheheh~"
Francis's evil chuckle reached Clone Fulgrim, who turned to see the other man's incredibly sinister smile. Light from the viewport cut across Francis's features with the interplay of light and shadow; half of Francis's face was bright, the other half dark.
Seeing this, Clone Fulgrim tensed up, feeling that someone was about to suffer greatly again. Thinking of this, he suddenly jolted. Wait a minute, why did he say 'again'?
After bidding farewell to Clone Fulgrim, Francis called Sarpedon over.
"What is it, My Primarch?" Sarpedon asked respectfully.
"Serpedon, my most trusted and outstanding son, I need you to find a few people and pilot the Soul Drinker No. 1 to establish a cult secretly. Have them worship this flesh armor," Francis said with a smile.
Sarpedon's face, however, grew paler and paler. This was practically a death sentence! "Pr..Primarch, is it really okay for us to do this?" he asked hesitantly.
Francis gave him a firm look and said thoughtfully, "Don't worry about it, it's just a wonderful social experiment."
There was nothing Sarpedon could do; after all, the person in front of him was his own father. He turned toward the exit. He left with three steps and a backward glance, feeling that he was showing a pitiful expression. But to Francis, this was just an old man dawdling.
Sarpedon hadn't gone far when Fabius ran over again, looking at Francis with a fawning expression. "Hehe~ Lord Francis, shouldn't we discuss the matter of extending my lifespan?"
When he saw Francis frown slightly, Fabius immediately explained, "My body is about to give out again. Each time I replace my body, it breaks down faster and faster, and I can't do anything about it."
Francis asked, "Do you have a Slaaneshi daemon?"
Fabius blinked. "??? Huh?"
Some time later...
They had no choice but to first go to the Eye of Terror and catch a wild Slaaneshi daemon. Afterward, they returned to the laboratory.
Francis drank the Drukhari blood, then combined the Neuro-whip in his hand with the Drukhari resurrection device, creating a giant glass jar.
Fabius stared in utter confusion.
"What are you pretending to be stupid about! Is this thing that complicated? It just needs three steps!" Francis snapped. "Open the glass door, stuff the daemon into the glass jar, then close the glass door."
Seeing this, Fabius was even more bewildered. Would this thing, which looked like a torture device, really work?
The daemon floated within. Inside the jar, the daemon was covered in purple scales, its wings twisted, its eyes flickering with an eerie light. It seemed to disdain everything around it. Blackstone chains bound its four limbs, its body slightly floating in the sealed chamber like an unshakeable deity, indifferent to the experimenters' frantic gaze.
"Hehe~ Foolish human, your methods will only please the Prince of Darkness. I will return!" the daemon sneered. "A mere torture device is not as exciting as my pleasures! Is that all? Is that all?! HAHAHA-"
However, all of this quickly changed. Suddenly, the air inside the glass jar began to surge wildly, accompanied by a low, mechanical roar. The Neuro-whip extended from the top of the jar.
With each strike, the daemon's expression began to change. The originally arrogant smile gradually faded. Black liquid began to seep from beneath the purple scales, and waves of electric-like pain began to spread through its body. Each whip strike was incredibly precise, and the intense pain, accompanied by numbness, directly impacted the daemon's nervous system.
The daemon's eyes widened. It began to struggle, its mouth slightly agape, letting out a low, pain-filled roar. "NOO AgghAAA!!"
Its wings flapped, the airflow causing the surrounding air to vibrate wildly, as if trying to break free of the glass jar's confines. However, the blackstone chains had already bound all its freedom, and each struggle only intensified the pain.
"Ahhh! How can this be!!!" The daemon let out a sharp shriek, its voice filled with unbearable pain and humiliation. Each whipping caused its body to twist violently under immense pressure, as if it were tearing itself apart from the inside.
Fabius stepped closer to the jar. Seeing this, Fabius's eyes widened. He roared, trembling, "How is this possible?! Slaaneshi daemons shouldn't feel pain, only pleasure! How is this possible!!!"
This completely overturned his understanding.
On the outside of the glass jar, a faucet quietly turned. A clear liquid flowed continuously from the pipe. The liquid seemed to be a special solvent, as it dripped, its temperature rose steadily, carrying a faint glow.
"Look, Fabius, this is the purest soul juice from a daemon," Francis explained. "Drink it, and you can extend your lifespan. Easy peasy!"
[End of Chapter]