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Hatred.
It was a feeling that could cultivate a person’s entire life. Too feel that every moment they lived for was ruined by the person who they oh so truly hate. They were the ones who did it to them, they were the ones who ruined their life.
Such was with Fulgrim. The Primarch who played a fool only once. He was a perfect being, reasoning that all his follies were because he lost to TalOS.
He failed because TalOS played a trick.
People looked down upon him because of TalOS.
His legion was weak not because of him, but because TalOS pulled the support of the Mechanicum.
He did not fall to Chaos of his own free will, he did so because TalOS forced him to.
It was a pitiful way to live life that called upon someone else being the cause of all those problems. In truth it was he, Fulgrim, who brought all of this upon him. It was he who challenged TalOS and it was he who lost the fight. He had ruined his own life but saw TalOS as the source of it.
The Omnissiah could tell how he trained for this moment. Oh how he schemed to bring TalOS down a notch and teach him a lesson. What forces he would bring and what forces he would invest to take him out. What strategy could be played against the Primarch that he would not expect. And in this era of treachery, what magics could he wield that gave him the upperhand.
All of this thought was placed upon TalOS, the Worshipper who could barely care less. A one sided rivalry that consumed Fulgrim’s life. The Worshipper could not care less for he had so many greater things to achieve. To transcend the flesh and become a fabric to the Universe itself through his own aptitude and labor.
It was stupid. Fulgrim had ruined the Imperium because of a stupid desire for revenge. Vengeance for simply being laughed at. He had sold his soul to the damning Daemons of the Warp because he was made fun of by the people of the Federation.
As Fulgrim prepared for the attack, the Omnissiah laughed.
