It is said that books are the ladder of human progress. But where does the end of that ladder lead? Nyx said: that's not interesting.
Ahem——!
Nyx, in his yellow‑skinned guise, coughed lightly twice and drew Mortarion — still immersed in the book — back to reality.
"Boy. How do you find it now?"
"Can this divine book be of use to you?"
Hearing the question, Mortarion nodded like a garlic‑chopper. Though he did not possess Magnus's voracious thirst for knowledge, these books were extraordinarily precious on Barbarus's spiritual wasteland.
The knowledge within not only pointed him toward a path to overcome his present circumstances, but also clarified his mission as leader of the 'Reapers': he wished not only to liberate the bodies of his people, but to awaken their minds.
"It can... it can help me. This..."
"Just call me Nyx."
"I am merely a yellow‑skinned god. This name is but an insignificant code among the thousands of identities I bear."
Nyx played the role of a profound being. His slender ferret whiskers quivered slightly with the words. Had it not been for his form, these words might have seemed more convincing.
Of course, Nyx reasoned: since the Emperor could have ten thousand identities, surely He could spare one or two yellow‑skinned incarnations.
"Young man. What are you called?"
"My name is Mortarion."
Nyx, of course, knew his brother's name. But formalities must be observed — after all, one must make a good impression on one's brothers. He noted that Mortarion was no longer resisting, yet the vigilance in his eyes had not vanished.
"Nyx... May I ask you something? Are you truly a god?"
Mortarion spoke uncertainly. He truly could not believe that gods might appear as rat‑like xenos. In his mind, gods should not glow faintly, nor stand upon stone so... fuzzy.
If Nyx currently resembled a god, it was only that initial, fleeting burst of majesty.
Bold! How dare you disrespect the Emperor's incarnation! What's wrong with you?!
Nyx slandered inwardly, but his face betrayed not the slightest trace. He continued manipulating the illusion of Huang Pizza, once again squeezing out that humanised expression of paternal love.
"The answer has long been clear. How about... you feel it yourself?"
With these words, Nyx gestured for Mortarion to close his eyes. The boy resisted at first — he could not fully trust the strange entity before him. But Mortarion immediately recalled the incomprehensible majesty Nyx had displayed. If Nyx truly wished him harm, why expend such effort?
After several moments of internal compromise, Mortarion finally obediently shut his eyes.
A second passed. Two seconds. The waves in his heart, stirred by the gift of the books, gradually subsided. Mortarion relaxed his mind, allowing his perception to extend beyond imagination.
...This?
Silence surrounded him. His consciousness seemed to open a door. A warm current, bound by blood, quietly merged with his pallid body.
Mortarion clearly perceived the rat‑like presence before him... becoming extraordinarily familiar. As though they shared the same root.
Could this be...?!
He abruptly opened his eyes. Tears already brimmed. His face was full of vibration and disbelief. A belated sense of belonging welled ceaselessly in his heart. Mortarion immediately fixed his gaze upon Nyx.
"It seems you already know who I am."
Nyx appeared relieved — it was time to end this roleplay. He had already concocted a tale of the yellow‑skinned... the Emperor's great achievements.
"Father!"
"Actually, I'm your brother..."
Nyx's face froze. He was about to dispel the illusion. His claw, raised mid‑air, the ferret's paw, stopped instantly. He had never expected Mortarion's capacity for 'comprehension' to be so... otherworldly.
At this moment, Mortarion was also seized by an unprecedented emotional surge.
Since his fall upon this poison‑mist‑choked planet, he had struggled for survival under his adoptive father's brutal rule, witnessed the tragic deaths of countless Barbaran mortals at the tyrant's hands. He hated all xenos. This hatred was one of the driving forces sustaining him as he forged the 'Reapers'.
But today's 'recognition' of Nyx was like a lightning bolt, revealing the truth that he, too, was xenos‑born — plunging him into pain and self‑doubt.
Yet the resonance in his blood could not be faked. From Nyx, he felt a warmth long lost and long yearned for — and a certain tolerance resembling paternal love (doubtful). This feeling was so powerful that he was willing to set aside his prejudice against xenos — for Nyx. For his father.
"Actually..."
"Say no more!"
Mortarion cut Nyx off directly. His voice was choked, yet unusually resolute. He raised his hand and wiped the tears from his face.
"I forgive you. For losing me from the very beginning."
When these words were spoken, it seemed to tear out a heavy stone that had weighed upon his heart for many years.
"Now I only wish to ask — why are you like this?!"
He stepped forward. His voice was mixed with grievance, anger, and confusion — as though demanding of Nyx why he was here, now, in this state.
Gazing at Mortarion — tears in his eyes, questioning him sharply — Nyx truly felt wronged.
This gives me no chance to explain at all!
In that moment, Nyx found himself in a dilemma. He could already foresee the pitiful scene of Mortarion and the Emperor meeting in awkward, emotionally tangled circumstances in the future.
"...Child... It is because your father is sorry. In that year... Because your father was powerless..."
"And my father's appearance now — is also to find you. I had to wage a bloody battle against the greenskin Dark God beyond the firmament, and in the end I sustained severe injuries. My strength waned; I can scarcely maintain human form..."
Having spoken these words, Nyx also coughed up a mouthful of 'blood' — a dim, golden‑tinged effluence.
Seeing this, Mortarion could no longer suppress his surging emotions. He tightly embraced the yellow‑skinned being before him.
At that time, Mortarion was still a youth. He had only just formed the 'Reapers' and was not yet as unyielding as stone as he would be in later generations. And even if he truly possessed a heart of stone, it would show softness before a named kinsman.
He believed the truth of Nyx's words. And with that belief, he kindled an icy, soul‑deep hatred for the 'greenskin Dark God' who continued to harm his 'father'.
(Of course, if Mortarion were to ask which 'greenskin' Nyx referred to — suffice it to say, this greenskin was not that greenskin.)
(Nurgle: I'll take the blame if he's broken!)
Nyx knew he was dancing on the edge of the abyss of death. The more touching this 'father‑son love' was in this moment, the more tragic the 'retribution' awaiting him in the future.
He could already envision it: this brother, who now wept bitterly while embracing him, might one day employ the same embracing gesture to enact 'god‑slaying without regret' — upon himself.