Its surface was adorned with intricate carvings, and some unknown masters had covered it with silver filigree, making it feel unusual to the touch.
Silence, silence, silence.
The Khemosite closed his eyes, raised his head, and took a deep breath.
He wore a light purple long-sleeved shirt, and his long hair was neatly tied in a ponytail. His entire appearance expressed extreme seriousness. In his hands, he held a black book.
This attire, so different from his usual silks and open-shouldered robes, made him almost unrecognizable.
"Calm down, Fulgrim. You just came to give a lesson. You just came to pass on the knowledge he needs to your brother. So there's nothing to worry about, nothing to fear..."
He opened his eyes and pushed the wooden door.
Konrad Curze, in a black robe, sat at the table, waiting calmly.
"Good day, Master Fulgrim," he greeted in a steady voice. "Did you sleep well?"
"...Konrad, you..."
Before he could finish, Fulgrim realized how weak his voice sounded – as if he had come not for a lesson, but with an apology.
Taking a deep breath, he transformed instantly. Fulgrim had studied acting for a long time and could become anyone if he wanted to.
A shadow of calm fell on his face. The Khemosite straightened up, assumed an impassive demeanor, and, as if by chance, patted his right shirt pocket.
A pendant lay there.
"...I slept wonderfully," Fulgrim said calmly.
"I didn't sleep at all."
"Is that so? Well, that's good."
Konrad Curze nodded slightly, then stood up, yielding his seat to Fulgrim. There were no so-called "study rooms" on the "Emperor Sovnium," and the decision to hold lessons was made spontaneously, so Konrad Curze's bedroom temporarily became the classroom.
There was only one table here.
Fulgrim, squinting, approached fearlessly and sat down. He kept his back perfectly straight, and the bun of silver hair tied in a ponytail swayed behind him.
"Today is your first lesson," the Khemosite began. "Therefore, I will teach you the very basics of knowledge about the Imperium."
He paused, turned to Konrad Curze, who stood with an impassive face, and asked questioningly, "Do you have any questions?"
"No."
"Excellent."
Pursing his lips, Fulgrim placed the book on the table. It had no title; the cover, clearly handmade, looked very old.
"These are my own notes and conclusions."
The Khemosite blinked.
"It has been with me for a very long time. Sixty-six years ago, I personally wrapped these soft pages in the skin of a wild beast. Since then, I have always carried it with me, adding new knowledge, new pages, new words, new thoughts."
He turned to Konrad Curze.
"Now I want to give it to you, Konrad."
"..."
"Konrad?"
"...How long did you rehearse those words?"
Fulgrim froze in astonishment.
"What?" he blurted out. "What 'how long'?"
"When you spoke, you stretched out every ending."
"It didn't sound like normal speech," Konrad Curze continued impassively. "That's why I assumed you rehearsed this phrase many times."
"What the hell?!"
"Why is he so perceptive?!"
The Khemosite pursed his lips in annoyance.
"No, Konrad. Although these words were indeed spoken from the heart, I did not rehearse them as many times as you say."
He paused, looked into the black eyes, and added sincerely, "There's no need for that, is there?"
"...Perhaps."
Konrad Curze looked away and looked at the book.
"You didn't give it a title?"
"..."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't... Wait, Konrad, I'm here to teach you. Now, sit down, we don't have much time."
Fulgrim coughed.
"Your Legion will arrive on Nostramo in two weeks. You must learn all of this before they arrive."
"And what if I don't want to learn?" asked Kon
Konrad Curze.
The Khemite froze and slowly turned his head.
From the look in those black eyes, he understood that Konrad Curze had asked the question with complete seriousness.
"…Why might you not want to learn?"
"Because I've never seen them."
The pale giant frowned.
"I was suddenly informed that I have sons by blood… But I don't know them at all, Master Fulgrim. How can I meet them?"
Slowly, a wrinkle as deep as his brother's formed on Fulgrim's forehead.
For a moment, he even fell silent.
"…First, remove 'Master' from after my name, and I'll give you a small piece of advice. How about that, Konrad?"
Konrad Curze turned away and muttered quietly,
"It's not fair."
Finally! Fulgrim couldn't suppress a cold smile.
"I play unfairly," he stated bluntly. "In short, until you remove those two damned words, I won't tell you anything."
"…Fulgrim," the pale giant said reluctantly. "Will this do?"
Ha.
A small step – but how important!
Fulgrim nodded encouragingly.
"Excellent!"
However, after that, he suddenly fell silent.
He didn't know how to tell his brother about the past.
Before his return, his Legion was called the Third. Fulgrim met them on Terra, and, contrary to everything the term "Legion" implied, there were only two hundred men left in the Third.
Two hundred men.
A painful image flashed before his eyes. The mere thought of it made it difficult for Fulgrim to breathe. Two hundred men, two hundred strangers…
Two hundred men.
His two hundred sons.
The Khemite lowered his head. His voice, usually melodious like an opera aria, became low and muffled, like a funeral dirge.
"…Take it calmly, Konrad," Fulgrim said dully. "Yes, you are not acquainted, that is an undeniable fact. But you have nothing to worry about."
"Why?"
Because…
Fulgrim raised his head resolutely.
"Because you are their Primarch."
"Every Legion awaits, my brother. Father gave them numbers, not names, because only their own Primarch has the right to give them a name."
"They were selected, trained, modified, infused with our blood… You are not acquainted, but you are already bound by blood. This bond is pure, clear, and irrevocable."
"When you see them, you will understand everything."
"…But what if I am unworthy?" Konrad Curze asked quietly.
His question made the Khemite look at him incredulously.
"I can't do anything properly," the pale giant said, lowering his head. "I haven't made Nostramo better; that's all thanks to K материаl.
"I didn't save K материаl. If it weren't for him himself, K материаl would be dead."
"I failed my first solo sortie. I was chased through half the city and then shot with a hunting rifle. I lay in an alley like some beast."
Fulgrim opened his mouth but found no words.
'So this was your past, Konrad?'
"…And I also ruined yesterday's dinner."
"I didn't want to do that," Curze continued dully, his voice filled with clear despondency. "But I couldn't help myself. I shouldn't have thrown that pendant in your face… And Lorgar, he…"
"He deserved that beating," Fulgrim suddenly said coldly.
His words made Konrad Curze look up in surprise.
"He was talking nonsense about a man he doesn't know at all. Even if it was out of love, out of the best intentions. But whoever makes a mistake must be punished."
Fulgrim shook his head.
"And also, Konrad. You are not as useless as you say."
The pale giant, without realizing it, tensed, awaiting Fulgrim's next words. Before he entered, he had told himself countless times that he would ignore him, but he couldn't.
He was still wearing the clothes Fulgrim had given him.
"You saved Kariél Lohars," Fulgrim said calmly. "If it weren't for you, he probably would have burned himself with the fire he himself ignited."
The Ghost looked at him in confusion.
"You are an anchor for him."
"He clearly has many secrets, doesn't he?" Fulgrim explained patiently. "His strength, his vast knowledge, his creed, so alien and unlike Nostramo's. All of this is obvious, isn't it?"
The Ghost thought for a moment, then, shocked, his eyes widened, and he nodded.
"I don't know who he really is, but he is clearly a good person. He is desperate about what is happening on Nostramo, and you are the only reason he still maintains his sanity and reason, Konrad. Otherwise, why would he…"
Fulgrim fell silent, not finishing.
"Why would he what?" the Ghost asked insistently.
'He ignored Lorgar's insults. He also let the provocations pass him by. But when it came to you, when Lorgar presented you as an ignorant child…'
Fulgrim calmly shook his head. An image flashed in his memory – two points of icy blue light.
And the giant's face, contorted with rage.
"Nothing, Konrad," the Khemite said slowly.
"You can't do that!"
"Do what?"
"You can't… You can't, I… I want to hear the answer to that question!"
Fulgrim smiled slightly, touching the pendant in his pocket again, and his gaze warmed.
"Shall we continue the lesson?" he asked softly. "I'll tell you the answer after we're done for today."
Konrad Curze looked at him for a long time, then quickly brought a second chair and sat down at the table next to him.
***
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