In Warhammer, My System is Minecraft-Chapter 189: Born of the Same Root, Why Such Eagerness to Destroy Each Other?

"A golden opportunity. The Dark Angels' forces are attacking the Arks of Omen, leaving the rear defenses on Wyrmwood entirely empty. It is the perfect chance for me to slip in and steal the Key fragments."

Vashtorr schemed, but Abaddon, standing beside him, remained silent.

Vashtorr looked at his ally. As a Warp demigod, he could easily perceive the emotions of any living creature.

"You are afraid, Abaddon." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"Afraid? No! The undefeated Abaddon never fears anything," Abaddon flatly denied.

"Remember our deal, Abaddon," Vashtorr prodded him. Before the task was completed, he still needed to rely on the power of this ally.

Abaddon recalled his deal with Vashtorr.

Once the collection of the fragments was complete, Vashtorr had promised to build Abaddon a Webway boring machine.

This was a powerful weapon capable of chewing through the barrier between reality and the beyond, capable of tunneling even through the Webway itself.

Greed conquered fear. Abaddon burst into laughter. The devastating power this device possessed would inflict catastrophic damage upon the Imperium.

Vashtorr was unlike any daemon he had faced in the past. Although belonging to the Warp, he was also an entity with a profound spirit of cooperation.

As long as they won this final, crucial battle, the terms He laid out would be fulfilled.

"All personnel, prepare to engage the loyalist scum." Abaddon's angry bellow was magnified by the vox-casters, echoing in every corner of the bridge.

"Our only mission today is slaughter! Wyrmwood is incredibly thirsty; let us send it a grand gift enough to fill its oceans!"

The bridge crew erupted into cheers, beginning to shout vile oaths.

Abaddon let out an uncontrollably gloomy laugh. However, just how many other things were hidden behind that laughter, perhaps only Abaddon himself knew.

–

"Then it's settled. I'll go build the Nether Portal first. It should connect to Sanguinius in a bit."

"This 'Nether Portal' shares a similar concept with my Forest Walk." This was the first time Lion El'Jonson had seen Zeke's Nether Portal. Amidst his shock, he couldn't help but praise it. "Truly worthy of the man who could save Sanguinius, to be able to bring out such a thing."

"I love hearing praise, but Lion, it's time to give me back that golden dandelion. Remember what we agreed upon? I was only lending it to you."

Even though Lion El'Jonson was a hundred times unwilling, Zeke still forcibly took back the golden dandelion.

Only after losing something do you know how to truly cherish it. Lion El'Jonson reverted to that aged and frail appearance, which made his heart itch after having tasted youth once more.

"Like I said before: do one thing for me. Let me know when you've made up your mind."

Zeke and the Lion parted ways at the end of the assault craft's corridor.

One went to construct the Nether Portal, while the Lion intended to meet with the current Chapter Master of the Dark Angels.

–

"Where did this Fallen Angel come from?! Kill him! The secret of the Dark Angels' past rebellion must absolutely not be leaked!"

At the end of the corridor, exclamations mingled with the roar of bolter fire.

The Lion immediately sensed trouble. He quickly stepped forward and pushed the door open.

The room was thick with the smell of gunpowder. Two groups of people were in a standoff, various weapons already drawn.

Leading the group on the left was the Supreme Grand Master, Chapter Master Azrael of the Dark Angels.

He wore the rather comical-looking Lion Helm with its red wings—a helmet that Haarken Worldclaimer had once mocked to his face as looking like a child's toy.

The Sword of Secrets at his waist was already drawn, and he was preparing to attack the group of Fallen Angels opposite him.

Leading the group on the right was Zabriel, the Fallen Angel who had been following the Lion ever since he awakened.

"Stop!" Seeing Dark Angels at each other's throats with weapons drawn caused the Lion's heart to ache endlessly.

The Lion's appearance caused both sides to freeze in their tracks. Chapter Master Azrael looked at the aged Lion, "Father, is it truly you?"

A part of Azrael's heart was trembling with fear due to the many sins he had committed: Caliban being defiled by the enemy into this state, Luther's prison break...

But these memories did not in the slightest diminish the vitality and joy in his heart upon seeing the Lion return alive.

"Yes, I have returned," the Lion announced. His arrival drew the gazes of everyone in the room.

"Everything that happened on Caliban was a massive misunderstanding. We were all deceived. The Fallen never fell. As the Primarch of the Legion, I failed to take the correct actions and instead indulged this behavior. I apologize to you all."

"End this senseless slaughter. The Dark Angels need to unite as one once more."

Upon hearing these words, Azrael's very first thought was: Which bastard is impersonating my Primarch? This is absolutely not Lion El'Jonson!

Lion El'Jonson was notoriously stubborn; once he chose a path, he never looked back. The man standing before him actually dared to boldly admit his mistakes and even apologized to them.

Impossible!

Azrael frantically tried to hypnotize himself into denial, but the sensation transmitted from his gene-seed couldn't be wrong. The man before him was indeed his genetic father.

With the Primarch stepping forward, the hostilities between the two groups finally ceased.

The Lion took this opportunity to correct the mindsets of these Fallen Angels.

He had the Fallen gather around him, and then, with a roar suited for reviewing an army, he asked, "Who are you?"

"We are Dark Angels, my Lord!" the Fallen Angels replied in unison.

"I can still hear another name echoing behind those shouts, my sons." The Lion sighed. "I ask you once again to lay down the burden brought upon you as the Fallen. I have forgiven you. You are no longer the Fallen; you never truly fell. So answer me again, my pardoned sons: who are you?"

"We are Dark Angels!" the Dark Angels roared.

"My sons, to whom do you pledge your loyalty?"

"For the Lion!" they shouted loudly. "For the Emperor!"

This time, the Unforgiven behind Azrael—those Chapters tasked with hunting down and killing the Fallen—also shouted out.

"Azrael, from now on, you will lead these Risen."

'The Risen' was the new name the Lion gave to the Fallen, signifying that they had been forgiven.

As the ringleader who mobilized the entire army to hunt the Fallen, the reality of having to work as colleagues with them made Azrael extremely unhappy.

But he could not disobey. He had no choice but to accept the command. "I follow your teachings, Father."

Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks sounded on the door.

The issue regarding the Dark Angels Chapter was temporarily settled. Ten thousand years of accumulated grievances could not be resolved overnight; the suspicion and sense of betrayal between brothers still lingered. But getting off to a good start was, ultimately, something worth celebrating.

"Come in."

The Lion's voice still held a trace of lingering fatigue as he attempted to push aside the worries occupying his mind.

The door was pushed open.

Light flooded in from the hallway, laying down a warm, golden carpet across the threshold...

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