In Warhammer, My System is Minecraft-Chapter 187: The Era of the Primarchs Bears... Fruit (Bonus)
This is the bonus chapter for reaching 1050 Powerstones.
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The Lion's fingers loosened on the hilt of his sword, then tightened again.
It was a hunter's instinctive reaction; when facing the unpredictable, the fingertips always needed to find something to grasp.
"Do you still remember everything you've experienced?" The moment the question left his mouth, the Lion regretted it.
"I remember." Angron raised his head. "I remember everything. I remember every whip strike on Nuceria. I remember the Emperor taking me away and leaving those slaves to fend for themselves and die. I remember every single person I have killed."
Fatigue revealed itself in Angron's eyes. "Brother, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Just recalling these things makes me feel endless sorrow."
That was not the answer the Lion had expected. The Lion thought Angron would at least show some kind of hostility.
The Lion's grip on his sword hilt finally loosened. He looked at this strange yet familiar brother before him.
This was the brother who had once made him feel disdain, anger, and even a trace of pity.
Disdain for his savagery, anger at his madness, and pity for a life that had been entirely crushed by fate.
But Angron was never quite what he seemed on the surface, and the Lion himself had never truly tried to understand him.
But I can't be blamed for that, the Lion thought.
You can't delve into the heart of a madman who actively wants to kill you.
"Lion, your stereotypes are too heavy. Angron is actually a literary youth; he even wrote books and poetry back in the day," Zeke chimed in.
"Could it be you've read the book I wrote?" Angron's gaze turned to Zeke.
"Uh, my memory isn't too good, maybe I have." Zeke quickly glossed over the matter.
"Save the rest of the small talk for after the battle. Right now, Angron, you need to quickly bring the World Eaters army to a halt."
Zeke pointed at the distant battlefield.
When Angron's Butcher's Nails were extracted, the World Eaters army he had brought with him also felt their Primarch's salvation. One by one, they stood frozen in place.
The World Eaters looked at their Primarch. First, they were utterly shocked to see that the Primarch's daemonic body was gone; Angron had reverted to his former, human-like physical form.
Then, they saw that the Butcher's Nails had disappeared from Angron's head.
A massive wave of unease welled up from within the Legion. The Primarch had broken free from his corruption and the Butcher's Nails, but what about them?
Did this mean that they, the sons who had followed him for ten thousand years, were being abandoned once again?
Unease turned into anger, and anger twisted into agony.
Angron could feel their pain. With the Butcher's Nails gone, his once-suppressed Warp empathic abilities had returned.
"Angron," the Lion's voice sounded again. Seeing the struggle on his brother's face, he offered a suggestion. "If you still recognize me as your brother, I have a proposal."
The Lion made a throat-slitting gesture. "The fallen should only have one end. If you are unwilling, I can do the deed for you."
Angron shook his head. He didn't know what the right thing to do was, but he absolutely did not want to slaughter his own Legion once again.
He closed his eyes, opened his mind, and expanded his Warp perception across the entire battlefield.
He connected with every single World Eater, absorbing their ten thousand years of accumulated pain, confusion, and remorse entirely into his own consciousness. If doing this could make them feel even a little better, then let him bear the weight.
The emotions that had been suppressed deep beneath their madness now surged back like a bursting dam.
Angron only touched a mere fraction of it, yet he felt a suffocating oppression. Mixed within it was the corrupting energy of the Warp, attempting to violently drag him down into the abyss once more.
The World Eaters, on the other hand, felt comfort from their genetic father for the very first time.
Angron's sharing of their pain allowed them a moment of respite from the Warp's corrosion. They realized that Angron—the very same Angron who had once personally slaughtered sixty percent of his own sons—was now bearing the pain for his children.
Angron wept bitterly. Tears mixed with sweat rolled down his contorted face.
He wept because, once again, he felt unable to save his sons. He felt their agony but was utterly powerless to fix it.
The World Eaters were weeping as well. For the first time, they felt warmth from their genetic father—something they had never even dared to hope for.
But they also knew they had long since fallen to Chaos. That warmth was like a lantern seen from across a rushing river: visible, but hopelessly out of reach.
The Lion turned his head away. As a Primarch himself, he naturally understood this bond between sons and their father.
He thought of his own Dark Angels, and his throat tightened slightly.
"Stop crying like a bunch of big babies," Zeke's voice suddenly shattered the heavy, tragic atmosphere. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢
He pulled out buckets of Milk and Golden Apples one after another. "Angron, you should have clearly seen how I purified you just now."
"These must be very precious, right?"
"You wouldn't be wrong to say that, but honestly, I'm not exactly short on these things." As Zeke spoke, he tossed a Chest Cavity Opener straight into Angron's hands. "After purifying them, remove their Butcher's Nails as well."
Angron hurriedly fumbled to catch it, holding it like a priceless artifact.
Angron stared at these two supreme treasures. One could cure Warp corruption, and the other could remove the Butcher's Nails. The World Eaters truly had hope once again.
"Oh, let me remind you of one thing. The Lion is right: the fallen are unforgivable. So even if your World Eaters Legion is purified, I reckon they will have to rush to the Imperium's front lines from now on, undertaking the most dangerous, suicidal missions. Death in service is the only fitting end for them."
"I only let you out because of the guarantee provided by the Poké Ball," Zeke casually added.
Angron nodded repeatedly. What 'most dangerous missions'? Could anything be more dangerous than being Angron's subordinate?
One had to know that the World Eaters' non-combat casualty rate ranked at the absolute top among all the Legions. 60% of them were killed by an enraged Angron, 25% by Khârn, and the rest died in gladitorial death matches.
Being able to die in actual combat on the Imperium's front lines was already an incredibly blessed fate.
Gripping the Chest Cavity Opener, Angron swept across the battlefield.
His Primarch strength made him as fast as lightning. With every strike, he accurately knocked a World Eater warrior unconscious.
Those World Eater warriors, urged on by the screeching powers of Chaos, should have resisted fiercely.
But instead, they merely went through the motions—swinging their chainaxes a few half-hearted times, roaring a few obligatory slogans—and then blissfully closed their eyes, willingly allowing their Primarch's hands to fall upon them.
Thus, this utterly bizarre scene unfolded across the warzone.
The Lion looked at Zeke.
"What's wrong?" Zeke asked.
"Nothing but If I had to say, perhaps I am just genuinely happy for Angron."
The Lion looked at the battlefield in bewilderment. He didn't know what a World Eaters Chapter without the Butcher's Nails would turn into.
He just had a sneaking suspicion they would be even more utterly reckless with their lives—only this time in a completely different direction: in their fanatical loyalty to the Imperium.
When the first batch of purified and Nail-extracted World Eaters woke up, they touched their unmarred foreheads, hugged each other, and wept tears of absolute joy.
Of course, there were some World Eaters who never woke up again. Some simply didn't survive the procedure, while others were killed by Angron personally.
Those were mostly individuals who had willingly and eagerly thrown themselves into the embrace of Chaos. Angron's Warp empathic abilities easily detected the dark, hidden thoughts of those true traitors.
