40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 110 13. Red Sand (1)

Once upon a time - or rather, a month and a half ago, Robert Guilliman still believed in the truth and science of the Empire.

But now, there has been a small change. He still believed in the latter, but inevitably had deep doubts about the former. He couldn't help but doubt it. After all, he had personally observed the world he lived in every day in another way.

After that, he became deeply aware of one thing - the nature of the Empire's truth.

In essence, it's just a lie. That's all. If viewed with common sense, Guilliman should have exposed it immediately. However, the person who fabricated this lie was the Emperor and his father.

He didn't understand why the Emperor would concoct such a lie, but he believed in the Emperor, so he was still willing to let this lie protect others. He won't expose it out of trust.

However, Robert Guilliman must admit that he did not expect that one day, he would actually have a vague doubt about science.

At 8:11 in the morning in Nuceria, two reports were handed over to his desk. One of them was about the mass deaths in Nuceria, and the other was about the physical condition of his brother Angron.

He was holding the latter and looking at it non-stop, his brows furrowed.

Valentus Dorlo's handwriting stood out among the mechanically typed characters on the document, even stained with wet ink. The usual duty hours of medical officers are from 7:30 in the morning to 5:30 in the afternoon, and overtime will be counted separately.

A complete medical examination takes about thirty-five minutes, which means that this report was urgently sent over shortly after the examination was completed.

A few minutes later, Guilliman completed his thirteenth reading.

He put down the document and raised his head to glance at Valentus Dorlo with an indescribable look: "You said those nails have lost their activity. What do you mean?"

".Literally, the Primarch."

Dorro replied sternly, and every detail on his face revealed doubts about his knowledge. "According to the information collected by Second Company Commander Milo, this machine will not stop until it completes the complete replacement of the victim's brain and spinal nerves, unless their host is dead."

"But they stopped torturing my brother?"

"Yes, Primarch."

"What's the reason?"

"I don't know, Primarch."

".Okay, is he still in the medical room now?"

Guilliman rubbed his brows with a headache. Combining what happened yesterday, he roughly knew who was responsible for this. However, he did not expect that Khalil could actually have an influence on Angron even though he was still on Nuceria.

What did you do, Khalil?

"Yes, Primarch."

Guilliman nodded, sighed, stood up, and reached out to pick up the blue coat draped on the back of the chair. He stayed up all night last night, busy with paperwork, preparing to hand over Nuceria to the war dogs as quickly as possible when they arrived.

"So," the Lord of Macragge said, wearing his clothes. There was a complex and strange joy on his face. "Let me go see my brother."

"Understood, Primarch."

——

Guilliman slowly walked into the medical room, and just like before, the medical officers and medical staff all walked out.

The conversations of the Primarchs were considered sacred in some quarters, but to those on Macragge's Flare, they only did so because of Robert Guilliman's orders.

Angron's back was turned to him, and due to some instruments, he did not turn around to greet him, but he still showed courtesy.

"Good morning," Guilliman heard Angron say.

His brother's voice was still broken, evidence of the effects of those seven months of torture.

Guilliman approached slowly, holding his hands behind his back so that his posture could look more natural. When he came to Angron, he saw a weak face. The muscles on this face still twitch from time to time, but they are much better than before.

"Good morning, brother," Guilliman greeted in Nucerian. "How are you?"

Angron smiled, not ferociously, and his muscles were not forced to tremble and raise his canine teeth. The smile was quiet and peaceful - Guilliman didn't know what had changed in him, but he was happy to see Angron showing his canine teeth. Such a gentle smile.

So he laughed too.

"I'm fine." Angron replied in his broken voice. "Except for being a little hungry, everything is fine."

Guilliman let out a sigh of relief. He had gotten some answers from Angron's answer. However, he still had a few questions to ask.

"Well, Angron, I have to ask you something about—"

Guilliman pursed his lips and raised his right hand to make a gesture.

"——The problem with those things, this morning's inspection showed that they have lost their activity, but we all don't know enough about this kind of thing, and no one knows whether this matter will be just temporary. Moreover, after all, they are in the On a Primarch."

Angron listened patiently, thinking was no longer a torture to him. He nodded and said, "I will tell you all about those nails but I also have a few questions for you, Robert Guilliman."

"Then, you invite me first?" Guilliman asked tentatively.

Angron did not give in. He nodded slowly again, his eyes binding Guilliman like a heavy iron chain. The Lord Macragge was uncomfortable with this, but he instinctively felt that his brother did not mean it.

The pain of those seven hellish months was so deep that a part of him had been changed forever.

"You - no, you, where are you from?"

very good. Guilliman thought. The first question is so simple, direct, yet overwhelming. After his pain was removed, I was finally able to understand his character.

For this matter, Robert Guilliman smiled sincerely.

"My legion and I come from Macragge, a planet not too far from Nuceria. As for Khalil, he comes from Nostramo." He answered softly. "He is the instructor of the Eighth Legion and the adoptive father of Konrad Curze, the Primarch of the Eighth Legion."

Angron nodded thoughtfully and was silent for a while.

"I also want to ask you about a few people." He whispered.

"Are they gladiators?"

Angron was taken aback, and a look of joy appeared on his face: "Are they still alive?"

"Most are alive." Guilliman smiled and nodded. "Some are injured, but I assure you, the Ultramarines will do their best to treat them."

Angron lowered his head and let out a long sigh.

His breathing was extremely calm at this moment, as if it had almost disappeared. Guilliman suddenly had a strange feeling. He didn't know where this feeling came from, but he felt that all the emotions he had been suppressing in his heart had disappeared a lot.

He looked at his brother keenly, and then saw Angron's twisted face again.

"Brother——!" Guilliman was horrified. He wanted to call the medical officer to come in for examination, but his brother raised his hand and stopped him.

"No, no, I'm fine," Angron said in a low voice, with drops of blood dripping from his nose. Guilliman looked at him worriedly, but complied with his wishes and did not call the medical officers.

After a while, Angron finally raised his head again. He pursed his lips and wiped the blood under his nose apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect this, I just wanted to express my gratitude and make you feel better."

"What?" Guilliman frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about - no, did you do that thing just now?"

His eyes widened.

Angron nodded slowly and smiled slightly. Although he was still in pain, he still showed the greatest kindness. "I've always been able to do this"

before.

Guilliman keenly caught the word in his words, and a heavy emotion came over him again, and Robert Guilliman did not want to hide it. He frowned, there were many things he wanted to say, but he didn't say a word.

"It's okay." Angron said.

He laughed crippledly and tapped the steel cable behind his head with his finger. The pain on his face flashed away, but he still smiled tenaciously: "We have already defeated them."

"."

After a brief silence, Guilliman changed the topic slightly stiffly. This was rare for a politician like him, but at this moment, this happened.

".Those nails, do they still hurt?"

"Sometimes," Angron replied thoughtfully. "They will if I do what I just did. There are still times, but it's not as bad as it used to be and I can handle it."

"They have lost their activity," Guilliman said. "My medical team was completely at a loss as to why it happened overnight."

"Is this something bad?"

"Perhaps," Guilliman replied cautiously, then sighed and complained.

"Those damn things are some kind of technology that we have never seen before. Even the technical sergeants who came back from Mars for further training can't understand the principle at all. In addition to knowing what kind of impact it will have on the host, we don't know what kind of impact it will have on other people. I don’t understand anything at all. Damn it.”

Angron nodded thoughtfully again. He captured some noteworthy points from Guilliman's words, but he did not mention them immediately, but turned to ask about another thing.

Or rather, a person.

"What about Khalil?" he said. "I want to thank him in person. I have 472 gratitudes that I want to tell him in person."

Guilliman once again showed a blank expression. ".He is still on the surface of Nuceria."

Angron frowned, this time it was his turn to be confused.

"Wait, surface?"

This chapter is 3k.

8 Okay, my brother has been squeezed dry, I will pay him back tomorrow.

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