Second Chance.

[Okor]

Okor took a moment to look at the sliver of metal point itself at his eye. "Are you so weak, that you would... hurl yourself against me, simply because I offered a warning?" His eye gazed down, sizing up the whelp. "I give you my courtesy, I warn you away from the depraved path you... tread. And now, you believe yourself to be perfect, to be invincible. All you have accomplished in your short, disgraceful life is to betray your people, and to.... slay mere novices." Okor laughed again, shaking his head. "You truly do not understand what the real world is like, do you? To not see Nurgle's presence."

"In every rotting corpse, in every fly, in every leper. In every child, in every forest, in every ocean, in every beating heart. Everywhere, he exists. The universe itself will one day cease, and when it does, Nurgle will be there. When the last maggot, in the carcass of the last beast, on the last planet, orbiting the last star finally succumbs to entropy, Nurgle will be there. When reality itself falls apart, when all that is left is the primordial sludge of raw potential, he will raise it again, and we will be reborn. There will be no more war. No more pain. No more want. And until then, we will fight. We defy the doom of reality, by embracing it." Okor breathed out a palpable cloud of corruption, a fine green mist seeping from his horned helmet. "You speak of Nurgle, as if he does not hear you, his wayward child. Even in this hellish place, he... watches over us." Okor thumped his skeletal hand to his chest. "He still protects us. He still sustains us in our endless quest for vengeance. As our legs wither, we walk a thousand miles. As our flesh rots, we live eternal."

"And you still suggest I am little more than a.... murderer. I have faced Daemons, horrors from beyond our stars, the unceasing hammer of the Imperium, and worse. I have stood against... hordes of chitin and talon, tides of green muscle, and the heat of stars themselves. I have seen a hundred worlds crumble into ruin, by my hand. I have crushed the skulls of the champions of the Imperium under my boot, torn down their cathedrals with my bare hands. I fought a loyalist captain, so far removed from the gene seed of legend that I could scarcely... determine his source. For 3 days we fought atop the ruins of the citadel of Faalion III, until he could no longer stand, so fatigued from battle and disease to raise his blade. Even then, he muttered curses, decrying me. I granted him a quick death. Was that better than what you would have done, I wonder?"

"And you name yourself a... killing machine. You have sacrificed your life, for the sake of violence. Perfecting your... Art. I see what you are now. What you are is a child, playing at war. Still believing there is beauty to it, deluding yourself into believing that all there is to life, is death. You cast aside your humanity, killing for... Fun. What you are is a blind child, failing to see the universal truths of reality. Substituting them with yourself. What cannot offer you pleasure, what cannot serve you, is a toy. What you are, is a fool, believing that you can intimidate me, with all of my faith, all of my gifts, all of my ten millennia of warfare, using only a decorative piece of silverware." Okor loomed over the pathetic whelp. "I have never slain a... child. I do not intend to start this day. " Okor's eye communed a look of mirth. "Now run along, young one. Remember your... place, and strive for more."