Chapter 541: Sweat Glands Improve Organs: Fulgrim's Pride (Happy Valentine's Day)
[You have nothing left to fight Trazyn with on conventional terms. The C'tan Shard behind you is a weapon, but it is a weapon that kills everything in the room, including yourself. As a gesture of desperation, it carries a certain psychological weight. As an actual solution, it is the last option on a list that has run out of everything else.]
[But you have never been limited to the cards in your hand.]
[You speak.]
[You give Trazyn a partial account of your true origins: a different universe entirely, governed by different physical laws, populated by artifacts that can unmake and remake reality at scale. You name the Infinity Stones as an example. You describe what they can do in terms that translate across species and across the distance between what Trazyn knows and what he has never imagined.]
[His eyes do not change. But he is listening.]
[Then you raise your vibranium hand and demonstrate. The Ten Rings move to your command: metal that has never existed in any corner of the Warhammer galaxy, obeying principles that no Necron engineer has ever catalogued. You let him observe the vibranium of your armor. Two substances completely outside his existing classification systems.]
[Fulgrim's clone has been quiet throughout this. More than once his expression tightens toward interruption, the particular expression of a Primarch watching his brother offer something that feels dangerously close to heresy. Each time, he stops himself. The trust they built in the corridors of this museum holds.]
[You are not giving Trazyn the full picture. The possibility that a Necron substitute, transplanted into the Marvel universe, might find a path back to biological existence is real enough to present honestly. What you do not present with equal honesty is what the Marvel universe would actually do with a Necron Overlord who arrived without allies, without an army, and without a Tombworld to command. That is a separate conversation for a separate time.]
[You lay out the terms. Trazyn sends one substitute into the new world. He keeps the arrangement entirely outside the knowledge of the Triarch. His side of the exchange: Fulgrim's clone and every surviving Astartes and mortal warrior walks out of this Tombworld free. Once they have safely left, you personally hand back the Empathic Obliterator.]
[Trazyn's response is a single gentle motion of one metal hand.]
[Every Astartes behind you goes rigid simultaneously. Fulgrim's clone, the surviving Ultramarines, the Salamander, the Black Shield: all of them straighten to perfect attention at the same instant, their eyes flooding with the cold green light of Trazyn's Mindshackle Scarabs.]
["...Mindshackle Scarabs." You take one breath and turn to look at Trazyn.]
["Young human, you should consider yourself fortunate." The green light in Trazyn's eye sockets is steady and without warmth. "The scenario I originally designed had the Primarch replica pierce your heart with its own hands, while those mortals who venerate your kind tore you apart piece by piece. A fitting response to the theft of my scepter. I chose patience instead."]
[He raises a hand. Behind you, the controlled warriors are being walked back toward the stasis field projectors, filed into their containment alcoves one by one, the fields sealing around them. Fulgrim's clone goes last: still upright, still carrying the Blood Scythe, his white hair dark with blood, his eyes burning green. The field takes him.]
[You do not move. The detonator is still in your hand.]
["Now." Trazyn's attention returns to you fully. "Let me offer a counter-proposal. You return the Empathic Obliterator. You leave this Tombworld alone. In exchange, I will indeed send a substitute to your new world as discussed."]
[A pause.]
["As for the Primarch replica: consider the alternatives. The original Fulgrim, corrupted and ascended, would not permit a loyal copy of himself to exist freely. It would be destroyed the moment he became aware of it. The Imperium, for its part, would never allow a specimen carrying a traitor Primarch's genome to walk unmonitored. Here, at least, it is preserved perfectly. Safe. Cared for in the way I care for everything in my collection."]
[His tone carries the particular confidence of someone presenting an argument they find entirely reasonable.]
["This may genuinely be the best available outcome for it. You would be doing it a kindness."]
[You look at him.]
[Then something happens in your expression that is not grief and not rage. Something quieter than either.]
[You begin to laugh.]
[It starts low, and grows, and does not stop. The sound fills the approach in front of the World Nexus and echoes off the Necron metal walls until it comes back at you from several angles simultaneously.]
["Hahaha..."]
[Trazyn takes one step backward. His head tilts slightly.]
["Why are you laughing?"]
[You bring yourself back to something approaching composure. You look at the Overlord of Solemnace across the open ground between you with the expression of someone who has just remembered something they are genuinely pleased about.]
["Because I suddenly remembered something happy."]
[You let one beat of silence sit.]
["See you next time, Trazyn. And do not forget our deal."]
[You raise the detonator.]
["Wait, there is no need to be impulsive, we can still discuss this—"]
[Boom!]
[The cubic structure of the World Nexus comes down in a sequence of detonations that layer on top of each other so quickly they feel like one continuous event. The floor shakes. The walls shudder. And then the containment device fails, and what was inside it is no longer inside anything at all.]
[The wave of destructive force that spreads outward from the Shard's release is invisible and total. You watch it come.]
[You open your arms.]
[Trazyn's substitute is mid-sentence when the wave reaches him. The words stop. His frame stops. Everything stops.]
[The darkness that takes your consciousness is not slow. It simply arrives.]
[You are dead.]
[This simulation has ended. Time elapsed: unknown.]
[The following options may be retained from this simulation.]
[I. Trazyn's Empathic Obliterator (???)]
[Note: "The weapon of Trazyn the Infinite: Overlord of Solemnace, legendary thief of the galaxy, collector without end, temporary custodian and categorizer of all unclaimed things, and King of Figurines."]
[Note: "The exact origin and manufacture date of the Empathic Obliterator are unknown. It is said to be among the spoils of war seized by the Fearful Ones from the Old Ones at the close of the War in Heaven."]
[Note: "The weapon's attack mechanism appears to involve acausal technology, inflicting unavoidable damage on all targets sharing unified intent by randomly striking any one of them."]
[Note: "What is yours is mine. What is mine remains mine." — Trazyn the Infinite]
[Note: "Oh dear. My precious scepter." After exhausting considerable resources and substitute bodies to re-imprison the C'tan Shard, Trazyn recovered the Empathic Obliterator carefully from the wreckage of the World Nexus and returned it to its proper place at his side.]
[II. Five standard Leman Russ battle tanks, carrying numerous battle damage marks (ordinary)]
[Note: "The standard Leman Russ is the most widely distributed heavy ground vehicle in the Astra Militarum and appears on the requisition lists of officers across a thousand worlds."]
[Note: "Its exceptionally thick armor and powerful engine plant make the Leman Russ a centerpiece of armored doctrine in the Imperial Guard. Even a single tank on the field raises the morale of the infantry around it by a measurable degree."]
[Note: "You want us to replace our Rogdorn tanks? Even the Sguger doesn't use those!" — a Leman Russ tank commander, face flushed, at considerable volume.]
[III. Sweat Glands Improve Organs: Fulgrim's Pride (Prime)]
[Note: "This small organ, cultivated from the living cells of a Fulgrim replica, is designed to be implanted in the lower intestinal tissue. The hormonal secretions and sweat gland modifications follow the original prototype's baseline procedures exactly."]
[Note: "The organ appears to have been enhanced and blessed by the Emperor."]
[Note: "Until successfully activated, this organ makes no changes to the host body. Once activated, all sweat secreted by the host becomes a natural environmental cleanser. In extreme environments or exposed void conditions without a helmet, the volume of this sub stance secreted grants survival and combat endurance exceeding that of Guilliman himself. The replica Fulgrim was entirely unaware of this property. Do not, under any circumstances, let him know."]
[Note: "Ah... there. Don't stop. Don't stop." — the daemon Fulgrim, during a private engagement with the Slaanesh Daemon N'Kari, unaware that a loyal version of himself had just contributed to the galaxy's collective inheritance.]
[Note: "The Emperor is currently occupied and unable to receive prayers directly. For routing assistance, please press 1. This matter has been assigned to Primarch 22..." In the deepest strata of the Warp, a cold light that had been dormant for a very long time trembled, very slightly, once.]