Leticia led Fogremia to the chamber that had been prepared for her, a room of absolute, stark white.
From her personal storage space, she took out a garment.
It was no ordinary item.
It was an elegant long dress woven from an unknown silk, shimmering with a luster like moonlight.
The color of the dress was a very pale pinkish-purple, echoing the glow of the crystal armor on Fogremia's body, as if they were always meant to be one.
"Go change into it," Leticia said, her voice tinged with a hint of a smile.
Fogremia took the dress, the silky, cool sensation against her fingertips making her pause slightly.
She nodded and walked into the dressing room inside.
When the crystal armor, formed by the power of [Divine Charm], dissipated into points of light at her will, Fogremia stood naked before the mirror for the first time.
The body in the mirror was an impeccable work of art.
Every inch of her skin was as smooth as jade, every curve natural and perfect, possessing both the softness of a woman and the might of a demigod.
She had once thought that Fulgrim's male Primarch body, honed through genetic technology, was the pinnacle of perfection.
But now, she realized that such so-called perfection seemed so crude, so... rudimentary compared to the body before her, reshaped by the goddess's own hands.
Trembling, she put on the silk dress.
The fabric clung softly to her skin, and the delicate sensation gave her an unprecedented and novel experience.
When she stepped out again, the light in the entire chamber seemed to soften.
Shedding the sharpness of her armor and changing into casual clothes, Fogremia lost some of the intimidation inherent to a Primarch, but gained a heart-trembling, feminine softness.
That contradictory combination of holiness and allure reached a perfect balance in her.
She stood there, feeling a bit uneasy.
How should she face her goddess?
Express gratitude as one who had been saved?
Or show intimacy as a new family member?
In the end, she chose to follow the instinct deep within her soul.
She wanted to be close to her.
She wanted to feel, once again, that supreme aura that had awakened her from the abyss.
Fogremia took a step and walked out of the chamber.
...
Inside the bridge, it remained quiet.
Terrania was curiously lying against the huge floor-to-ceiling window, her little hand drawing circles on the cold glass, watching the receding stars outside.
Leticia stood beside her, quietly keeping her company.
When Fogremia's figure appeared, Leticia turned her head, a flash of pure admiration in her eyes.
"Beautiful."
She praised sincerely.
This simple compliment made Fogremia's heart skip a beat.
She felt her cheeks heat up slightly; this physiological reaction, belonging to mortal women, made her feel both novel and shy.
"Thank you for your grace, my..."
She had wanted to say "goddess," but as the words reached her lips, she remembered that more intimate form of address.
"...Big Sister."
She bowed slightly, performing an impeccable lady's curtsy, and then, with a feeling akin to a pilgrimage, walked slowly toward Leticia.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
As the distance closed, an invisible yet incredibly clear fragrance began to linger at the tip of her nose.
It was not the scent of any perfume.
It was the divine aura on Leticia's body, representing the authority of [Divine Charm], originating from the essence of her soul.
To Fogremia, who had just been reshaped by the power of [Divine Charm], this aura held a fatal attraction.
It was a kind of... longing to return to the womb.
It was a kind of... instinctive worship of an artwork for its creator.
Fogremia felt her mind begin to go blank.
Her powerful Primarch mind, capable of analyzing an entire battlefield in an instant, ground to a complete halt at this moment.
All her senses, all her will, were captured by that increasingly rich fragrance.
What she had pursued her whole life was ultimate perfection, the pinnacle of the senses.
She had once thought that the grandest sculptures, the most moving poems, and the most intense battles were the embodiment of perfection.
But only now did she realize how incredibly wrong she had been.
Compared to this aura on Leticia, those things were nothing but crude imitations.
They were like a child's clumsy imitation of a real palace on a beach.
This was the [True Thing].
This was true [Perfection].
A supreme joy stemming from creation and protection.
Fogremia's steps began to falter slightly.
Her body trembled, and a misty, hazy veil covered her purple eyes.
She tried hard to maintain the elegance and pride of being the "Phoenix."
But her soul was screaming, urging her to cast aside all disguises and embrace that source of perfection.
"Sister?"
Leticia noticed her strangeness, thinking that her newly reshaped body was still somewhat uncomfortable.
She stepped forward with concern, reached out, and gently supported Fogremia's arm.
"Boom—"
Like billions of warm electric currents, it penetrated Fogremia's entire body in an instant.
The temperature from Leticia's palm, the soft touch, and the [Divine Charm] fragrance so rich it was almost tangible, right there before her, completely destroyed her last line of rational defense.
She lost control.
At this moment, Fogremia's pride as a Primarch was completely shattered by the instinct originating from her soul.
She uncontrollably leaned forward.
She did not fall to the ground.
Instead, she buried herself, burying that stunning, god-crafted face, gently and with a hint of desperate determination, into the warm, fragrant crook of Leticia's neck.
Black hair and silver hair intertwined together.
She closed her eyes and, using all her strength, took a deep, greedy breath of that scent that belonged solely to Leticia, the scent that made her soul tremble.
Leticia's body stiffened instantly.
She could clearly feel Fogremia's tall yet soft body pressing tightly against her.
She could feel the other's warm breath gently spraying onto her sensitive neck.
She could even feel the other's heart beating violently.
"This scent..."
A whisper, dreamlike, tinged with a hint of crying, and filled with endless obsession and satisfaction, rang in Leticia's ear.
"The scent of Big Sister..."
"More... than any 'perfection' that I... that Fulgrim... have pursued my whole life..."
"It is... more perfect..."
Fogremia exhausted all her vocabulary, yet could only utter such a pale and straightforward sentence.
Because no matter how flowery the words, they could not describe even one ten-thousandth of what she was feeling at this moment.
That was the ecstasy of having been redeemed.
That was the peace of having found a home.
That was the tremor of touching the truth.
Terrania, on the side, curiously tilted her little head.
Looking at this new silver-haired sister, who was acting like a large feline burying her head in Big Sister Leticia's arms to be spoiled, her pure golden eyes were filled with confusion.
The scent of Big Sister?
She also leaned over and sniffed gently on the other side of Leticia.
Mmm...
It's just a very nice, very reassuring scent.
Why does Sister Fogremia look like she's about to cry?
Feeling this "large pendant" in her arms, Leticia felt a wave of helplessness.
She could understand Fogremia's reaction.
To the creations reshaped by it, her [Divine Charm] power was like the most lethal drug, and also like the most sacred gospel.
She reached out and, gently and with a hint of doting, patted Fogremia's slightly trembling back.
It was as if she were comforting a lost lamb that had finally found its master.
This romantic and ambiguous atmosphere lasted for a long time within the bridge.
Until Fogremia's excited emotions calmed down a little.
Leticia gently pushed her away from her body.
"Alright, sister."
Her voice returned to its usual calmness, yet carried a hint of undeniable tenderness.
She looked at Fogremia's breathtakingly beautiful face, flushed with excitement, and said seriously.
"Since you are already family, it is time for you to understand our true mission."
Leticia's eyes looked back toward the deep sea of stars.
"And..."
"The story of that 'brother' of yours."
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