Из диалога с отражением. Некоторые реплики в нем хороши и таинственны: кем бы ни была произнесена фраза (физическим Фулгримом или его отражением), она может принадлежать как примарху, так и демону. Некоторые склоняют к версии, что демон владеет телом. Но намеков на то, что Фулгрим настоящий, больше, и они сильнее.
"большой текст"He had heard a disembodied voice before, hadn’t he?
It had told him dreadful, secret things. Unendurable things. (Фулгрим бы демону ничего секретного не шептал)
Fulgrim closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple as he tried to remember.
I am here, brother, I will always be here.
Fulgrim looked up in surprise, and an emotion he had long cast aside in his ascent to glory stabbed into his chest like the thrust of a lance driven by the Khan himself. (демону нечего отбрасывать)
Deep in the forest of mirrored spires, he saw a powerful warrior in battered war plate the colour of tempered onyx. A face hewn from granite stared back at Fulgrim, and he cried out as he saw the look of endless sorrow in the silver nuggets of his eyes.
‘No!’ whispered Fulgrim. ‘It cannot be…’
...
‘What are you?’ he yelled, the echoes of his cry bouncing around him so that it seemed as though a host of angry voices demanded answers. He lost sight of the warrior in black as he ran, pushing deeper into the maze of mirrors without heed for any thought other than unmasking this invader of his solitude. (не слишком ли бурная реакция на появление Мануса для демона? Демону должно быть все равно)
Every time he looked up he saw nothing but his own desperate reflection, his aquiline features twisted and pulled into ugliness by the crazily angled spires. To see his wondrous face so deformed by a quirk of reflective geometry enraged him, and he pulled up short in a ragged clearing of spires.
He spun on his heel, daring his reflections to show anything less than his true beauty.
A hundred or more Fulgrims stared at him with expressions of equal anger, though only now, still and enraged, did he see the pain and terror in the depths of those oh-so-black eyes.
‘Where are you?’ demanded Fulgrim.
I am here, one reflection answered him.
I am where you abandoned me and left me to rot, said another.
...
Who are you?’ he asked.
You know who I am. You stole what was mine by right.
‘No,’ said Fulgrim. ‘It was always mine.
Not so, you only borrow the flesh you walk in. It has always been mine and always will be.’ (намеки на первый вариант, что демон во власти. Хотя заявлять о праве на тело они оба могут в равной степени)
Fulgrim smiled, now recognising the sentience behind the myriad voices and broken-glass reflections. He had been expecting this, and to know with whom he conversed gave him a welcome feeling of brotherhood. Fulgrim sheathed the anathame, now certain it was not the source of the voices.
‘I wondered when you would manage to reach out beyond the golden frame of your prison,’ he said. ‘It took you longer than I expected.’
His reflection returned his smile.
Being confined is a new experience for me. It took time to adjust. Freedom such as I once possessed is hard to forget. (неоднозначно)
Fulgrim laughed at the petulance in the reflection’s voice.
‘So why show me Ferrus Manus?’ he asked the myriad reflections. (демону показывать Мануса было бы бессмысленно, он не испытывал к нему никаких чувств)
What better mirror is there than the face of an old friend? Only those we love have the power to show us our true selves.
‘Was it guilt?’ asked Fulgrim. ‘Do you think you can shame me into surrendering this body to you?’ (читай: повторить тот трюк, который был использован демоном в конце "Фулгрима")
Shame? No, you and I have long since outgrown shame. (тут непонятно. "you and I"? Независимо от того, кто тут что говорит, как может демон потерять стыд? Он же демон, по определению бесстыдный)
‘Then why the Gorgon?’ pressed Fulgrim. ‘This body is mine, and no power in the universe will compel me to relinquish it.’
But there is so much we could achieve were I to command it again.
‘I will achieve more,’ promised Fulgrim.
Keep telling yourself that, laughed his reflection. You cannot know the things I know.
‘I know everything you knew,’ said Fulgrim, lifting his arms and flexing his hands like a virtuoso pianist preparing to play. ‘You should see what I can do now.’
Parlour tricks, scoffed his reflection, his eyes darting to another mirror image. (это все неоднозначные фразы, поддерживающие обе версии в равной мере)
‘You make a poor liar,’ laughed Fulgrim. ‘But I should expect no less. You once ensnared the weak minded with offers of empowerment, but what you really offered was slavery.’ (демон!)
All things that live are enslaved to something; be it lust for wealth and power or the desire for possessions and new experiences. Or the desire to be part of something greater…
‘I am no man’s slave,’ said Fulgrim, and his reflections laughed, a hundred peals of mockery that cut him more deeply than any blade ever could.
You are more a slave now than ever you were, hissed his reflection. You exist trapped in a body of meat and bone, caught in a broken machine that will grind you to ash. You cannot know what true freedom is until you have embraced power beyond imagining. That is to know the power of a god. Release me and I can show you how we can ascend together. (Фулгрим не может говорить такие вещи демону, это не имеет смысла. Демон уж точно знает, каково жить, не будучи ограниченным телом)
Fulgrim shook his head. ‘Better yet to subdue that power and bend it to your will.’
We can experience such wonders together, you and I, said a reflection to his left.
A universe of sensation, said another.
Ours for the taking, added a third. (опять же, как может Фулгрим соблазнять демона Слаанеша? Это все равно, что больному ангиной нурглитов соблазнять)
‘Say what you will,’ countered Fulgrim. ‘You have nothing to offer.’
Think you so? Then you have no understanding of that body you claim as your own.
‘I grow tired of your games,’ said Fulgrim, turning away, but finding himself face to face with yet more mirror images. ‘You will remain where you are and we will speak no more.’
Please, begged a reflection, suddenly contrite. I cannot exist like this. It is cold in here, and dark. The darkness presses in on me and I fear I shall be gone soon.
