Typhon felt a violent surge of nausea rise in his throat, nearly forcing his stomach to empty itself, but Nix's power firmly suppressed his physical reaction.
"I know it's hard for you right now, but you need to hold it together."
Hold it together? How could he endure this?!
Typhon roared at Nix within his mind.
"I have to remind you, Typhon, that these Nurgle daemons can still talk to you so calmly only because they still see you as one of their own."
"But what if they notice something is wrong..."
"Heh heh... I think they'd be delighted to have some 'mouth-to-mouth communication' with you, then stuff you somewhere, then 'pull you out', and finally feed you something 'delicious'."
After listening to Nix's series of descriptions, which his own brain had censored and replaced, Typhon's face turned green, and the barely suppressed urge to vomit surged again.
But when he thought that even the daemons were this messed up, Typhon could only grit his teeth and desperately suppress his physiological revulsion.
I do not want to have an "encounter" with the mobile mountain of filth in front of me!
He held on for a while and finally managed to compose himself, but his face was pale, and his whole body trembled slightly. No matter how you looked at it, he seemed highly abnormal.
Huh? Is this procedure correct?
The Great Unclean One of Nurgle, playing the role of a loving father, vaguely sensed that something was wrong, but his maggot-infested mind couldn't quite grasp it, so he had to ask cautiously, "My child... Are you feeling unwell?"
His tone remained gentle and kind, but for Typhon, it was mental torture. Just seeing the writhing maggots in the creature's mouth almost made him collapse, not to mention the stench that erupted when it opened its maw.
"No... It's nothing, I'm just so happy to be joining such a warm family that it's making my body tremble a little!"
As Typhon spoke, he squeezed a few tears from his eyes—he was genuinely crying, but the smell was masked by the filth.
If he could, he would destroy this mountain of life right now... No, it would be better to just get as far away from it as possible. But Nix's voice echoed in his mind again, warning him not to act rashly.
"Don't show the filling. Just do as I say next. Don't worry, this kind of 'eating session' only happens once... Oh..."
Typhon could hear the malicious glee and guilt in Nix's words, but Nix was his only hope now.
Enough talk, I'm going to be sick again... By the way, was that stuff I just drank really okay?
He endured the churning in his stomach and asked internally. Thanks to his knowledge of sorcery, Typhon vaguely sensed that bowl of soup might deepen his connection to the Nurgling daemon.
"It's fine, it's just that your consciousness has been temporarily pulled into Nurgle's garden. That soup only works on the conscious level; as long as your heart resists, there will be no real effect."
"As for the remaining taint and the connection, the Holy Egg will handle it."
"But right now, out in the real world, they're probably closely studying your glowing green holy egg."
Wait, are there still people among the Liberators?!
Typhon suddenly felt a pang of regret. But to avoid having to eat feces as a staple food in the future, he gritted his teeth and began to masquerade as one of Nurgle's Chosen.
"Typhon... Remember... Next... It's all up to you..."
"Make... your... choice!"
Nix's voice became intermittent until it faded completely, and Typhon realized he was alone. Before his eyes were only the grotesque daemons with expectant faces.
"Now that you're a member of the family, I trust you have felt the warmth..."
The Great Unclean One paused and continued, "I hope you can spread this warmth to the children still suffering on Barbarus."
Typhon could see that the words of the monster before him were sincere—these Nurgle daemons genuinely believed they were saving those suffering from hunger and cold.
"I... I am willing..."
Typhon continued to play along as Nix had instructed, but he felt his pride as a Liberator crumbling away.
If this so-called salvation meant becoming a monster like this, neither human nor ghost, he would rather die.
The surrounding Nurgle daemons heard his answer and erupted in joy once more. The leader of the Nurgle daemons raised a hand, gesturing for everyone to fall silent.
"Typhon, you don't have the strength to save all living things right now, but the loving father never abandons life. So we will take care of you."
He pointed behind him—there was a filthy waterfall, a cascade of water shrouded in dirt and poured forth.
"Go, answer there..."
Typhon slowly walked in the indicated direction, his heart filled with confusion and fear.
Nix, Mortarion... Do you trust me so much?
He understood perfectly that he was likely carrying the weight of a crucial turning point, and his decision would determine the fate of Barbarus.
Perhaps killing me would be the best choice... How naive, Nix...
He stopped before the filthy waterfall. What was reflected in the water curtain was him, yet it was not him. When Typhon first saw the reflection, he unconsciously uttered a name.
"Typhus..."
He didn't know how he knew the name, but he felt it—it was his own 'self' after surrendering to Nurgle.
"Look, I used to be..."
"By rushing into the embrace of the loving father, all brothers have received eternal life. They no longer have to endure the harm and pain of the material universe."
Typhus waved his hand inside the water curtain, and the scene changed. In the next moment, Typhon saw countless familiar and unfamiliar figures.
...
"Nix, what's the situation?"
Mortarion's voice was anxious. He watched as Nix repeatedly applied electrical shocks to the unconscious Typhon, but he still showed no signs of waking.
"I'm afraid he might not wake up soon. But I am strong enough to protect him... Until he chooses that path..."
Nix's answer left Mortarion speechless. For the first time, he truly understood what 'Nurgle' was through Nix's explanation and also gained insight into the possible destination of his own fate.
But he, like 'Nix', chose to believe in Typhon. In his eyes, Typhon was a brother who lived and died by his side, a Liberator who dared to oppose all oppression, and a true friend willing to hide his psychic powers and restrain his sharpness.
He would never abandon Typhon. Even if there was only a glimmer of hope.
"It's time for us to go, Mortarion."
Nix suddenly looked up, as if sensing something, his expression turning serious. He walked aside and distributed the already modified power armour to the veteran Liberators—armour resembling that of the future Death Guard.
"This is yours."
The metal walls of the laboratory groaned deeply as they slid aside, revealing a set of power armour specifically tailored for Mortarion. Although it wasn't as refined as the future armour of the Imperium or the Cult Mechanicus, it was forged by Nix himself, and every arc was imbued with his will.
"Thank you, brother."
Mortarion stared at the armour. Gratitude flared in his chest, yet he was also extremely sober: putting it on meant that war had begun!