"If it were you, how would you choose?"
Typhus, in his mirrored form, posed the question to Typhon, as if awaiting an answer.
Brothers who had endured hardships side-by-side howled under Nurgle's dominion, and the Primarch Mortarion himself could not grant them relief—he killed them again and again, but the tragedy repeated over and over.
Nurgle's power also eroded Mortarion, subjecting him to endless pain both mental and physical, until he finally bent the knee.
Typhon witnessed the end, as if feeling the intense agony of a soul tearing apart, and he was nearly about to make his choice in his heart—
"I... Refuse!"
Typhon's answer did not surprise Typhus, and the ugly face beneath the mask laughed softly.
"When you go through the same pain as us... I am sure you will make the right choice."
The moment the words were spoken, Typhon felt his body begin to change. First, all his senses groaned in unison, and then intense pain rolled through his body like a tide, every cell seeming steeped in corrosive acid, enduring terrible torment.
Pain... every inch of his body screamed, and even his consciousness was on the verge of collapse...
He felt his chest tear open, and a completely new vision appeared in his perception.
Typhon saw himself curled up in agony...
A deformed, alien limb grew from his chest—a completely twisted and deformed head, sharing his vision but possessing an independent consciousness. Typhon barely managed to turn his gaze to look at the ugly head, wanting to raise his hand and cut it off, but the intense pain froze all his movements.
He watched as the newborn head opened its sharp teeth, frantically biting its own flesh and blood, chewing greedily.
But the next second, foul blood and flies gushed from its mouth, and the deadly plague with its virus instantly killed the head. Then it all cycled again and again, constantly destroying Typhon's nerves and will to resist.
"And now? After the same pain... Can you still refuse?"
Typhus smiled at Typhon. He knew that even Mortarion could not endure this pain, let alone Typhon, who was now suffering several times more intensely.
Typhon did not answer. His consciousness drifted, penetrating into Typhus and revealing even more truth.
He saw himself in conspiracy with Erebus, saw himself killing loyalists, and saw Typhus, the culprit who plunged the Death Guard into chaos.
"You... That traitor!"
"Coward who bends the knee to Him!"
Typhon's angry rebuke momentarily stunned Typhus, then turned into anger and mockery.
"I am merely giving you... letting you know the truth before Mortarion!"
Typhus hissed in defense.
"So you betrayed the Death Guard, betrayed my brother, betrayed Mortarion's trust in me?!"
Typhon stared directly at Typhus, and although his eyes were gradually decaying, the contempt in his gaze wounded Typhus.
Promise him... Typhon. Only then can you escape the pain.
Pretend to obey for now—then you'll have a chance to escape!
Nix's voice sounded in Typhon's heart, as if urging him to choose.
I said... I... Refuse!"
"Don't try to tempt me with such tricks!"
Although the voice and tone were indistinguishable from Nix's, Typhon clearly knew in the depths of his soul that this was not the man he knew. Even if that man appeared before his eyes like a miracle, he would never say such a thing.
And he, Typhon, number three among the Liberators, could never surrender.
"Coward, I have experienced the same pain as you... But it seems that is not enough to make me bow my head!"
Typhon stared at Typhus, and that gaze sent a chill through the latter.
But Typhus knew that if he did not accept Nurgle's blessing, he would only die under such torture.
Either way, the mark must be made!
Typhus began to grow anxious. Typhon—or rather, the connection to Typhon—was the beginning of the Death Guard's corruption. Only by connecting with him could the seeds of decay be sown. After that, whether Typhon lived or died, whether he wanted it or not, the Death Guard would eventually return to Nurgle.
Therefore, he decided to forcibly establish the connection with Typhon.
Typhus's face suddenly darkened.
"It seems... you need a deeper 'enlightenment'."
He suddenly raised his hand, and the corrupting power of Nurgle erupted like a substance, penetrating Typhon's decaying body. New aberrations began to appear—cracks in the skin, hyperplastic bone spurs emerging; internal organs awakening as if they had a life of their own.
Typhon's vision was split between increasingly complex eyes, and countless chaotic and painful images simultaneously struck his consciousness.
The pain compounded and qualitatively changed.
Typhon felt his existence crumbling, being rebuilt, forcibly distorted into some inhuman form. He heard a mixed hissing sound coming from his throat, which was no longer human.
Yet in the depths of this shattered consciousness, something more solid became increasingly clear through this extreme pain.
Nix's voice sounded again, full of encouragement:
"Give up! Look at your Primarch, even he couldn't bear it! Your persistence is meaningless and will only bring endless torment!"
This time, Typhon did not even respond in his heart.
He gathered his nearly dissipated will, channeled all his spiritual strength together with all the intense pain caused by the gnawing and corrosion of flesh and blood into his gaze, and cast it once more upon Typhus.
In this gaze, there was neither the initial anger nor the fierce rebuke, only an almost calm, absolutely penetrating contempt for the essence.
This gaze pierced through Typhus's arrogance more powerfully than any roar.
Typhus finally lost the last of his patience and felt a slight anxiety that the plan might spiral out of control.
"Stubborn fool!"
He roared, no longer trying to persuade. The filthy energy gathered wildly, and he wanted to forcibly carve Nurgle's mark into the very essence of Typhon's soul, completing the necessary 'anchor' in this cycle of corruption.
Typhon felt a larger, filthier force trying to penetrate the depths of his consciousness, like the thickest mud trying to cover and distort the very foundation of his existence.
Typhus's phantom rushed through the filthy mirrored waterfall, directly aligning with Typhon's figure—he was going to force his consciousness to merge and possess the remnant.
"Your resistance is meaningless!"
Typhus let out a mocking low laugh, but before the laugh faded, his expression suddenly twisted and changed to horror.
"Stop!"
"If this continues... we will both be destroyed!"
He could clearly feel the silent spiritual power within Typhon's body raging and boiling, and Typhon was about to ignite his own soul and drag them both into total annihilation together.
"I am Typhon..."
"...and I will always be only Typhon."
Consciousness rapidly blurred and faded. In his final trance, he seemed to see Nix, and Mortarion—
They were nodding at him, smiling with almost relieved approval.