Glory to the VIIIth

It's very sad and unfortunate that everything turned out this way, but here they are, the fruits of the decisions that Curze chose. It was very obvious that a lonely tunnel vision of the world would not lead to anything good and righteous, that the fear and doubt in his heart would eventually drive him crazy. And I could give 1001 and one example of how it would be necessary to make Curze come to his senses in the end, but for some reason I'm sure that they tried to help him more than once, but did they really understand him? And only his father's words came to his mind and really sobered him up. The very same "conversation with my father" shot me over the head with a piano from the intensity of madness at the end, which made me swim, too, this sudden light at the end of the tunnel. literally. a revelation before the face of death.

It's not your fault. If only we could meet and talk just once, I would show you the way back to the light.

I could have been carried out feet first, because I believed in it, because he was not a thoughtless beast and a weapon of intimidation that he so blindly believed in, but the more and more Curze went crazy, the less it seemed to me that it would work. Just someone who is a support for him, like he is for his sons.

No father wants to see his sons suffer, no matter what burden he had to put on their shoulders. what a sweet lie, but I want to believe it so much… I strongly disapprove of the destruction of Nostramo, the killing of innocents is unjustified, and burning down your home, even if it is wrong, is not an option. (even if it seemed to him that this was how he stood up for his ideals, which others tremble in fear of.) We don't choose where to be born. All the atrocities, pain and horrors caused are truly impossible to justify. But which of us would have done better in his place?

The lights went out.

The primarch slumped to the floor, trembling and whimpering. The remains of his creation fell to the floor with wet slaps.

"I cannot be forgiven," the Night Ghost whispered. Tears were streaming down his face, but dripping from his nose and chin, they dissolved without a trace into pools of blood on the floor. "After everything I've done."… What kind of justice is this? I had no choice! There wasn't!

But even so, I really liked Curze, this smelly, stupid, terribly human, night ghost.

But even now, he doubted those words. Back in his private chambers, a ghostly voice had simply voiced his own fears. He knew that the Emperor had not spoken to him. Or maybe he did? Both thoughts tormented his soul equally, while burning in the primarch's inflamed brain.

I'm free.

I'm not free.

I'm free.

I'm not free.