He decided to start with this phrase. Frankly, the choice was not the best – in fact, it was terrible.
However, his tone was calm, as if he were simply stating a fact.
"Like you," the Emperor replied.
He answered with the same composure.
"So, our official conversation has begun."
Kariél nodded calmly.
"So, what is it you had to tell me, for which you needed to send them away?"
"Much," the Emperor said.
He did not deny the word "send away."
Then the giant stepped forward again and extended his right hand.
The golden-armored hand froze in the air, motionless and confident. The relief image of a two-headed eagle on the bracer gleamed, and even darkness could not hide its dazzling magnificence.
In fact, darkness feared it.
With its appearance, all the beasts left the Wasteland. Their primitive minds could not comprehend what was happening, but their instincts understood everything.
"Leave or die," their instincts said.
"What does this mean?" Kariél asked slowly.
"A greeting, a necessary ritual, or an alliance. It all depends on your choice."
Kariél laughed.
"I think you haven't left me a choice. Besides, we've already shaken hands."
"That time it was for salvation."
"But you didn't name the price."
"The price is not important now."
"Really? I'd like to hear it."
The giant of giants slowly bowed his noble head. His eyes shone with a dazzling golden light, and a laurel wreath sparkled on his forehead.
Kariél remained unperturbed.
This divine appearance – or mask – made no impression on him. Deep within his black eyes, something even seethed.
"You want to know the truth," the Emperor said slowly. "But you may not like it."
Kariél Lohars looked into his eyes. The golden radiance did not change the blackness of his gaze in the slightest.
Then he stepped forward and shook the hand that was disproportionately large for him.
"I'm not afraid of anything anymore," he said.
…
The world turned upside down.
The mind was torn to shreds and then glued back together.
Ancient memories crashed down on him, and countless shadows buried within them rose like suffocating dust. Their fingers were wrapped in bandages, their bodies were devoid of internal organs, and a peculiar smell of herbs hit Kariél's nostrils.
He inhaled.
And again – deeply, very deeply.
"Mummies?" he asked.
"Yes," replied the man in white robes, walking barefoot on the stone slabs.
His face, as last time, was marked by fatigue. He was without a crown and golden armor, just standing like an ordinary person.
"Egypt?" Kariél asked again.
"Yes."
"So, you were once a pharaoh?"
"Yes," the man said.
Kariél shook his head and began to walk around the burning pyramid. His voice remained calm: "Last time we met, you showed me a primitive tribe, saying it was at the junction of Asia and Europe."
"Correct."
"So, you went from a savage to an Egyptian pharaoh?"
"Not only. I had many personalities, many names."
The man paused, and a flicker of confusion crossed his tired face. He seemed to realize something and said: "You can call me Neot."
"I dare not call you by name. Your armor speaks volumes. If I'm not mistaken, you must be a king."
"Emperor," Neot corrected. "I have created many personalities for myself and played their roles. I usually don't do this, only if humanity is in great danger."
Kariél laughed softly. He turned around and, leaning on the pharaoh's tomb, crossed his arms: "How many were there?"
"Countless."
"Which ones?"
"God, man, madman, king, prophet… man, woman, old man, child… All the lives you can imagine, I have lived."
"Immortality?" Kariél asked.
Neot did not answer. He knew that Kariél had already received the answer – a ghost from the distant past looked into his eyes, and at that moment, he wore no mask.
The man named Kariél Lohars was not blind, and therefore saw everything clearly.
"Immortality," Kariél nodded. "What a cruel punishment. Innate or a penalty?"
Neot smiled – for the first time he showed emotion.
"I'm glad you call it a punishment. But, I'm afraid, humanity is incapable of punishing someone in this way."
"Perhaps it wasn't humans who punished you," Kariél said calmly. "Perhaps it was them."
"They are incapable of that… By the way, it seems you already knew something about me before our meeting. Did they tell you?"
"Prometheus," Kariél slowly uttered the ancient name. "God of gods, whose name means 'seer,' a titan who stole the sacred fire and brought flame to earth and people…"
He squinted, looking at this simple and tired man, and shook his head.
"What have you experienced?" Kariél asked quietly. "And what has humanity experienced?"
"Catastrophe," Neot answered briefly, and a deep wrinkle formed between his brows. "A great catastrophe."
Kariél shook his head.
"It's all riddles… And you seem to like it?"
"Some things are destined to remain buried, so, yes… I will gladly let you know the truth, saving you the trouble of touching the dust of history."
Kariél smiled again.
"Let's get to the point," he said briefly. "What about my body?"
"It's related to your essence," Neot replied in an even calmer tone, his gaze focused.
"Essence?"
"We both understand perfectly well that a ghost wandering beyond that Veil is unlikely to be human."
Neot spoke in a low voice that echoed off the ancient walls.
"And your body… I merely brought it back to life and made minor changes. The real changes in it are caused by your essence."
Kariél nodded vaguely: "And what is my essence, Mr. Neot?"
"I cannot answer that question," Neot said.
It was not a refusal, but a statement of fact. In his eyes at that moment, there was such sorrow, as if he sympathized with his interlocutor's future.
Kariél waited calmly.
As he had said – he was no longer afraid of anything.
"Words have power, and to resurrect your body, I made a pact with it. If I speak, your spirit will change under the influence of the flesh – they are now closely linked, Kariél Lohars. You will no longer be able to be that ghost."
"I'm all for it," Kariél said. "Not the most pleasant experience."
Neot smiled again.
"Do you find that feeling so repulsive?"
"As long as I consider myself human, I can't like it."
"And immortality?"
Kariél also smiled, and there was clear contempt in his smile. Neot was not offended; he knew who it was directed at.
"If this is a test, then your communication skills are simply terrible."
"Perhaps it is indeed just a test, or perhaps just a casual question – but that's not the main thing."
The absolutely black eyes met the tired and ancient gaze. Neither retreated, both trying to penetrate the other's soul, to find hidden emotions and answers.
Like two people grabbing for the same dagger, in a struggle of strength, they tried to open each other's hearts and look inside.
"The main thing is…" Neot slowly straightened up, and his appearance changed.
He became taller, like a god. Thunder and lightning raged around him, flames obediently lay at his feet, and darkness instantly receded, trembling and dissolving into dust.
The vision of the pyramid disappeared, replaced by a winding river, in the middle of which they stood, looking at each other.
"In what, Emperor?" Kariél asked calmly.
"In whether you are willing to form this alliance."
The Emperor answered impassively and coldly.
"Tool number eight sees you as its de facto father. Therefore, if I need this blade, I must have your consent."
Kariél did not answer immediately; he was silent. He looked at this impassive face, and a shadow of compassion flickered in his black eyes.
"Firstly, he is human."
He said slowly: "Secondly, I will not control his actions, at most – give advice. He must determine his own future."
"He is a Primarch," the Emperor declared coldly. "One of my creations, made for the future, so he must follow certain rules."
"He will set the rules for himself, Emperor."
"You cannot simply give his future into his own hands. You, like me, know what lurks in the darkness."
Kariél merely smiled slightly: "Yes, that's why I don't think the Night Ghost – or Konrad Curze – will lose to them."
He laughed loudly, and his laughter carried contempt and coldness.
"Wretched, distorted creatures who fear even the light will not deceive him."
"…"
The Emperor nodded silently.
"Then," he began slowly, "welcome, Kariél Lohars."
"No need," Kariél said.
He looked at this god-like being and slowly shook his head.
"This mask of indifference hurts you yourself. You are bleeding, can't you see?"
"I know," the Emperor said. "But I must wound myself for humanity to survive."
"Sooner or later… it will wound others too, Emperor," Kariél said quietly.
***
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