In this galaxy, mercy was difficult to find, and the very word peace had become a concept more distant and luxurious than anything else.
Some might look upon the tranquility enjoyed by me, the Ark, and Nuceria and call it hypocrisy.
But even the peace we enjoyed now had never come free of charge.
It was a red peace, barely forged after shedding blood and tears for countless years, after piling corpse upon corpse and paying an immense price.
In this cruel reality, where one could not even dare feel the warmth of peace without such merciless sacrifice, countless beings throughout the galaxy were driven into wretched conditions and could do nothing but pour out negative emotions—hatred, despair, and fear—with every breath, like screams.
And the more they screamed, the greater grew the power of the monstrous Chaos Gods and daemons dwelling within the Warp beyond reality.
The Emperor of Terra was keenly wary of this fatal threat of the Warp, and he conceived of a truly grand plan to cut humanity off completely from those malformed creatures of the soul.
The first step of that plan was the Great Crusade: conquering the galaxy and forcibly subjugating it beneath his banner.
Yet even the Emperor, for all his transcendent power, could not rule and govern this vast universe in its entirety alone.
So he personally fashioned and shaped his own magnificent genes, creating twenty-one children: the Primarchs, lords destined to command the galaxy.
"Your biological mother, Erda, ultimately scattered you Primarchs across every corner of the galaxy in order to keep you from living as the Emperor's tools."
"That was terribly irresponsible."
At Angron's cold assessment, after he had listened to my story so far with wide-eyed surprise, a small snort of laughter escaped me before I knew it.
"Is that how it looks to you?"
"Yes. At least, that is the only way it appears to me."
"Heh heh heh, you're right. It was an irresponsible choice. She let her emotions sweep her away and impulsively did something enormous. For a Perpetual who had lived so long, she was far too careless."
"But... are my other brothers all right?"
"Each of them is enduring trials suited to the environment where he landed. And in the end, they will all survive."
When my quiet yet clear explanation came to an end, a cold silence settled over the lounge.
Having encountered the truth, young Angron fell deep into a long whirlpool of silence, his lips sealed tight.
"My son, were you very shocked?"
"...Honestly, it is shocking. From the fact that I have so many brothers to the reason for my existence and even my origins, it is all so vast that it is difficult to believe."
"Compared to what I will tell you in the future, and what you will experience for yourself, this is only a tiny fragment of the truth."
At my candid words, a deep shadow of worry fell across Angron's eyes.
For a Primarch who wore the form of a child, the truth I had told him must have been like a massive boulder crushing down upon his chest.
I quietly watched the troubled child's face, then softly added, as if to ease the burden in his heart even a little.
"But Angron, do not forget this. No matter where your roots began, the ones beside you now, holding you in their arms, are Veronica and me. The ones looking up at you and crying out in cheers are the people of Nuceria. Your true father may have designed you to be a tool of war, but only you yourself can decide who will be the master of your life."
"Thank you... Father."
"There is so much I have to tell you, but grand truths like those are not what matters to me right now. We shall leave the story there."
What Angron needed now was not every truth in the galaxy, but a firm identity that would allow him to stand upright on his own.
I stopped there and quietly waited for Angron to gather his thoughts.
Father and son said nothing for a long while.
We sat in the lounge, quietly watching the preliminary matches through the window and listening to the tremendous cheers of the crowd.
This time, Angron spoke first.
His voice was subdued to the utmost, as though full of deep contemplation and anguish.
"Why did you choose to take me in, Father? You could have gone to find my other brothers before me."
A typical question that any parent would someday have to hear from their child.
It was a hellish either-or question, in the same category as asking whether one loved one's mother or father more.
At that question, I forgot my words for a moment and considered deeply whether to evade it with a suitable answer or tell him the honest truth.
But I did not want to offer the sweet poison of lies to the young egg before me, trying to break out of its own shell and hatch.
"...Angron. What I am about to tell you is a false future that has already disappeared."
"The future... You know about the future, Father?"
"That's right. I know the future you were originally meant to walk."
"You know it... Then I suppose my original future was terrible enough to draw your attention more than my brothers' did."
It was remarkable insight, worthy of a Primarch.
I nodded readily.
"That's right. The reason I chose you first... was simply pity."
"Was my original future truly that bad?"
"Calling it bad would fall far short of the truth. It was a horrific, miserable tragedy."
At my words, Angron began anxiously scraping the nails of his thumb and forefinger against each other.
It was a habit Angron unconsciously revealed whenever he felt great unease or agitation inside.
Even so, he met my gaze as if to say that he wished to keep listening.
I rose from my seat and slowly approached the window.
Then, looking out at Nuceria, utterly transformed from what it had once been, I spoke.
"Nuceria may look peaceful now, but until I came here, it was a planet filled with nothing but madness and chaos."
I told Angron of Nuceria in the past, when it had been little better than a sewer.
The atrocities of the nobles, who ruled the planet mercilessly and strutted about in arrogance.
The ignorant, uncivilized people who shut their eyes and ears, obsessed only with the bloody death-duels of gladiators.
A bottomless abyss where not even the faintest trace of a better future could be found.
That was the grim reality of Nuceria before I intervened.
"Angron, you were originally destined to become a slave gladiator on such a Nuceria. No matter how much you hated spilling blood, you would have been forced to cut off people's heads. Later, you would ultimately meet the tragedy of killing with your own hand the mentor who was no different from an adoptive father. And... a horrifying machine of torture would be forcibly implanted in your skull, endlessly tormenting you, gnawing away at you until you could feel no emotion but rage, driving you gradually mad."
That was where my story ended.
"...There is more to the story afterward, but you cannot bear to tell me any more of it."
"Yes. But it is a false story that no longer exists in this world, one that will never happen again. There is no need for you to hear more."
"It truly... felt as though I had heard a dreadful and cruel fairy tale."
"But that was this galaxy's brutal reality. Beyond Nuceria, there may be countless planets throughout the galaxy overflowing with hells even more terrible than that."
"..."
"Angron, the world is far crueler and more merciless than you think. Even those people cheering themselves hoarse for you beneath this lounge would, in the original course of things, have locked you in a cage, mocked you, and made you suffer."
"...But you taught me, Father. You taught me that human beings are ultimately creatures who cannot help but change according to the environment they are placed in and the teachings they receive."
"I did."
"Just as the people of Nuceria, once so wicked and cruel, were reborn as far better people in only a few years under your guidance and teachings. If... if I were to travel the galaxy in the future, as my original purpose of existence intended, and save and guide pitiful people as you have done, could not even the people of that cruel world change for the better?"
The child clenched his still-small hands tightly and looked up at me with eyes firmer and more noble than anyone else's in the world.
(Rooooar!)
From the heart of the arena beyond the window came a grand, massive cheer, crashing in like a storm with enough force to shake the earth.
It was the people of Nuceria.
As though possessed by something, Angron quietly rose from his seat and slowly walked toward the lounge window.
When the child approached the window overlooking the entire arena,
one warrior was the first to spot Angron. He raised his sword high and shouted.
Then, beginning with that cry, the hundreds of thousands of Nucerians gathered in the arena all raised their heads at once, looked toward young Angron at the lounge window, and began cheering until their throats went raw.
"Angron! Ferox Angron!"
"Angron! Angron! Angron!"
They chanted only the child's name, offering reverence and love as though they would lay down their very lives for him.
I stepped up behind the child standing blankly at the window and spoke quietly into his ear.
"Angron, the name Angron is not one I gave you."
"Pardon...?"
"Ferox Angron—the child of the mighty mountain. That is the noble name the people of Nuceria gave to you when we found you tearing apart a monster in the body of a newborn infant."
At my words, Angron listened quietly to the cheers filling the vast arena, then spoke in a low voice.
"...I have never once wanted this one-sided adoration, Father."
"Yes. I know."
I quietly nodded.
Then Angron stroked his swelling chest and continued.
"But... I do not dislike it either. Rather, it has become the clearest signpost showing me what future I should envision and pursue."
Angron turned and looked up at me with eyes as steadfast and unshakable as a mountain.
"I am Ferox Angron. I wish to become Nuceria's true hope, and the one who stands at the very forefront of this pitch-black world and brings forth the light."
The child looked out at the people in the arena and clenched his fist with resolute determination.
"Just as they have become my signpost, I too wish to become the most dependable beacon lighting their path. The unease lingering in their hearts, and the pain in their souls... I will erase it all."
"It will be a truly difficult road."
"I know, Father."
"You may regret it. No... the day will surely come when you do regret it."
"Even so, I will rise again. Just as you did, Father, despite shedding blood countless times, and always rose again in the end."
"..."
Angron gave a faint smile toward my silent self and asked softly,
"Do you... not believe in me?"
"No, I believe in you. Of course I do. But what father would not worry and feel afraid when his child says he will walk into a horrendous firestorm of his own accord? I say this because I know all too well what harsh and merciless trials the noble will and purpose you have sworn will bring upon you."
"Then... I will give you unshakable faith in me, Father."
With those words, before I could stop him or even react, Angron rushed toward me in an instant like the wind and wrapped his child's arms tightly around my waist.
"Ah, no! Wait, stop—!"
"This is the path I have chosen!"
I shouted in horror, but it was already too late.
In that fleeting instant when flesh touched flesh, the blood-soaked pain of eternity that had settled in the deepest depths of my heart, along with visions of the terrible wails of countless Noahs screaming as they died, surged mercilessly into Angron's soul like a river bursting through its dike.
"Kraaaaaagh—!"
Clutching my waist even more tightly, Angron let out a scream as though his chest were being torn apart.
The young Primarch's small body shook violently, unable to bear the agony of eternity flooding into him without mercy.
Bright red droplets of blood burst from the corners of his eyes and the tip of his nose, while his pupils trembled violently, as though pain might turn them inside out.
Let's GOOO