Chapter 91 Magnus and the Bird-Headed Man

Perturabo will not die like this.

He is the descendant of the Emperor, and what came to Prospero today is just a cross-section of Perturabo's consciousness, a branch that has nothing to do with the main body. The sophisticated body made by Morse will not let the death of the branch affect the survival of the main body too much.

Magnus knew all this.

But an empty, terrible silence still spread in Magnus' heart, like a sudden nightmare, suddenly enveloping and capturing Magnus who was unprepared.

All the scenes around him became crowded and blurred. The pages that fell on the torn robes spun and collided with each other, and the words on them twisted and blurred, as difficult to recognize as ink drops falling into water. Only in the first moment after each hard blink could Magnus confirm that the words had not changed at all.

His thoughts were mixed and confused, and several images flashed through his consciousness. Fragments of time came to him like broken glass reflecting pictures. All the conversations, walking, ruins, golden deserts, old books, serious faces, and glacial eyes flashed before him.

Then there were sounds, the sound of turning pages, the slight movement of sandals scraping against the marble floor, the sound of the boy's breath sliding through the air when he scolded him, the sound of the poetry book being put back on the table, Magnus's own heartbeat at this moment, and the empty scream of disgust and pain in his consciousness.

He opened his eyes and carefully looked at the ashes in his palms - the burnt residue had been collected in his palms at some point, and his body was already half-kneeling on the crystal-like ground.

The moment he touched the ashes, he already knew that it was the scorch marks left by the crystal-like material on the ground that was ignited, but this only meant that Perturabo's body had not left even a trace of flying ash.

Magnus grabbed the Tizca-style robe next to him, the hem of the garment had been forcibly torn off, and the edges and many parts of the robe had holes and marks of being burned by the flames.

The Primarch's brain immediately conceived for Magnus the image of Perturabo running between the bookshelves, the flames - he smelled the etheric vibrations of the School of the Phoenix - easily burning through the thin fabric of ordinary materials and directly burning the body of his first brother. Was it this flame that consumed the boy?

He believed that Perturabo was still alive and could still wake up on the other side of the galaxy, but would his death really have no effect on the complete Perturabo?

Would his brother feel pain when he died?

They burned his brother to death once.

Magnus felt a downward fall, a chaotic fantasy torn by the flames rushed towards him, pushing him off the solid ground and falling straight into the bottom of the valley of despair.

He taught the law of fire to the psykers of Tizca. The fire that once killed the Soul-Eating Bees now killed his brother. Wasn't this his crime?

Then Magnus slipped into another possibility that made him tremble.

How close Magnus had been to his scholars, and when they were hunting his brother, he was still so slow and late to arrive at the evil that he should have stopped long ago because of his own psychological reasons.

Would Perturabo think this was his indulgence and acquiescence? Would he think that it was his brother, Magnus, who wanted to kill him?

No, it didn't matter. If he had arrived here even a moment earlier, Hastal, who had just died, could have been saved, and Perturabo would not have to experience this pain.

Magnus's pain faded, because he seemed to have lost the ability to feel himself. The whole world was shaking in his heart. He was like holding on to the edge of a high cliff with one finger. The lack of oxygen and suffocation made his ability to feel pain disappear.

The remaining piece of cloth slipped from his nervously trembling hand, and Magnus loosened his fingers and fell from the cliff irresistibly.

"Don't think too much," he heard Perturabo's voice echoing in his ears, "Admit your mistakes and take your responsibilities. That's all you have to do."

He remembered every word, every sentence, and the warmth of Perturabo's hand on his shoulder.

This would be the last mistake he made in a moment of thought. He would remember this day forever, remembering the pain and shattering of his brother.

The red Magnus stood up and waited for the arrival of the murderer. Soon, a group of people who were familiar and unfamiliar to him appeared in front of him. The wisdom and sharp thinking of the past were gone from them. Mason, Tothmus, Zahn, Walton... Did they ever have such a hideous look immersed in darkness and violence?

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Everyone's hands were empty, so Magnus couldn't figure out the purpose of their coming to the Great Library. However, such confusion quickly dissolved in his disgust and anger for treating himself and others equally.

Magnus' cheeks burned and hurt, as if he was slapped in the face by this annoying world. A cluster of fire ignited in his hands. The reason why he didn't fight them on the spot was that he decided to first know the reason why these scholars came here today.

"Tothmus," he looked at the old psychic who was once particularly close to him, and vaguely felt that the other's face was deforming uncomfortably. "What did you do!"

"You need help, Mag..." He was caught in Magnus's palm before he finished speaking. The red giant grabbed him with one hand, which was no more difficult than holding a poultry.

The opponent's excuse immediately swept away Magnus's hesitation and weakness, and a desire for revenge that he had never had before rose in Magnus's empty heart. The psychic chains bound everyone he saw and made them unable to move, and only a little power was enough to suffocate them to death.

When they burned the library, betrayed his will, killed his companions, and burned his brother's body, the emotional connection of several years had been broken between the two parties.

Magnus's other hand covered the psychic's head in his palm, and his mental psychic energy burst through the opponent's mental defense line, revealing all the discussions of these psychics in recent days, the slander of his respectable brother, and the arrogance of arrogance.

Magnus had never been so aware that when these psychics were speculating and plotting, he was curled up in his small room, closing his eyes and ears, allowing everything to get worse.

Magnus browsed through the memories of Thothmus, and made up his mind to hand these people over to Perturabo, letting the brothers who had been hurt decide their fate, and then he would add his own judgment to this.

Without warning, he saw the hands of the scholars in Thothmus's memory replaced by bone-white claws. At the same time, the psyker he held began to scream heartbreakingly, and Thothmus' bones began to crack and break, and his skin was damaged and twisted.

Magnus watched in horror as his face was strangely stretched and deformed, the human skull began to elongate in an incomprehensible way, and the teeth and upper and lower jaws protruded outward at the same time, turning into an extremely ugly bird beak. He immediately ended the psyker's life before the other party's transformation was completed, but during this time, several others grew silver-blue bird feathers all over their bodies.

Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine strange laughs stabbed at Magnus from all directions, the loudest of which came from the top floor of the pyramid-shaped library. A trace of Almazbek's remnant could still be recognized in the strange laughter.

"Magnus, the light of the veil has been introduced by the nine-story golden tower, and the fire of transformation is for the truth of eternal change--"

The Tizca Library transformed into its own form in the waves of psychic energy, and the strange and evil golden and silver towers reappeared in the world, and the most well-preserved colorful bird temple in Prospero reappeared in the world. The furnace formed by the fusion of countless broken psychic instruments and the souls of sacrificed psychics continuously supplies ether upwards.

Falling from a corner of the crystal maze, the temple sacred ritual vessel shaped like a sextant shone brightly on the top of the golden tower, and together with the other eight temple golden towers scattered in the ruins on the surface of the entire planet, they opened a corner of the curtain of reality in the sky.

When all temples are fully operational at the call of the core tower of Tizca, the scene of the vast ocean will directly replace the sky of Prospero, and all living things will witness the waves of the highest sky with their own eyes. Even a mortal with an ignorant mind will clearly see the magnificent and mysterious true appearance of the ether up close.

At the same time, the psychic fluctuations of the temples and ruins instantly catalyzed the hatching of countless Prospero's soul-eating bees, completely resurrecting this dying race.

The beasts that once almost destroyed the planet have returned, swarming from every corner of the planet to the core of the ether reaction, the city of light, Tizca.

"The Most Holy Tzeentch will protect our souls," the demon laughed wildly, "the lost beings will be guided, and a new kingdom will come to Tizca!"