40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 119 22. Burn out (1)

Guilliman frowned slowly and seriously.

"Is that what he said?" The original body used his extraordinary calmness to restrain certain emotions and asked the person on the other end of the communication channel. "Are you sure, Second Company Commander?"

"I'm sure." Milo's voice came from the other end. "I have ordered all brothers of the Second Company to be restrained, Primarch, we are not acting in our style."

"You once said that Instructor Khalil is trustworthy. I don't know how much this trust is, but I think he will never be a targetless person, so I followed his advice and put it to the police as soon as possible. This matter has been reported to you.”

Robert Guilliman rubbed his brows, feeling sincerely grateful for Milo's somewhat stubborn character.

He was holding a communication device that did not fit his size. He was very careful and gestured to the correspondent on the bridge to leave temporarily.

After doing this, Guilliman rested his hands on a cold iron table on the bridge of Macragge's Glory. His eyes swept over the emblems, cables, ivory-inlaid joysticks and buttons. Finally, he raised his head and looked at the vacuum outside the porthole, as if he had a premonition.

"Primary body?" the second company commander asked at the other end. "What are your instructions?"

Guilliman did not answer.

A strong glare shone on the face of Robert Guilliman. He stood up straight and stared at the whirlpool-like light that began to become more intense, without saying a word.

The sounds of commotion on the bridge reached his ears. Guilliman calmly raised his left hand and made a gesture, making all these sounds disappear. He stood there, and after three minutes, he spoke to the second company commander on the other end of the communication channel.

"Evacuate," he said quietly. "Stay away from that plain. No one is allowed to approach until I give the order. The same goes for the air force. Change the route of the airship transporting supplies, start martial law, and let all residents in the city closest to the plain stay at home."

"Understood, Primarch."

The communication was hung up, and Guilliman gently placed the communication device on the table. Twelve minutes ago, there was a crash on Nuceria. It caused great damage to the communication system of the Ultramarines.

This is why Robert Guilliman would use such an instrument that was very embarrassing for him to communicate with his second company commander - if it weren't for the continuous efforts of the correspondent in charge of this channel, he might not be able to communicate with the ground now. communicate.

"Primarch." Marius Gage stepped forward. "It's been confirmed, it's a ship -"

His voice was interrupted by a violent light. The intense light that could make ordinary people lose their sight flashed away. A huge ship appeared not far away in the dark vacuum.

The hull is huge, the Imperial Skyhawk shines peacefully on its rear half complementing the iron-gray armor, and the War Hound logo rests quietly on the side of the ship.

But that's not the case with the first half. The brutal and cruel bloody decorations are clearly visible in the front half. Huge hooks, almost as big as a small escort ship, are waiting hungrily at both ends of the hull. A bloody symbol is dimly displayed on the bow of the front half. Flashing.

Guilliman turned his head sharply, his eyes so firm that Gage was speechless.

"--Listen to my order, all crew members should immediately evacuate the deck and return to their rooms to wait. Close all the portholes on the ship, Marius, notify the first company, third company, fourth company and fifth company to prepare Get ready. Captain, tell the gun emplacement that they are allowed to use lethal force."

"But, the primarch——"

"—I cannot explain this to you now, Gage." Robert Guilliman spoke to his First Chapter Master with an unprecedented gloominess. "Where's my brother?"

".Still waiting in your study."

"Very well, I'll go find him. You wait here. I'll be back soon."

"As you command, Primarch."

Guilliman hurried away, and Gage stared at his back, beginning to recall the expression on his primarch's face when he said every word - he soon realized that in Robert Guilliman's gloomy solemnity, In fact, there is another emotion brewing.

Another emotion that Marius Gage was reluctant to admit.

Are you afraid, primarch? He looked at the retreating figure in disbelief and asked himself.

——

The flickering light was wrapped in the misty mist, and the stars were twinkling. The mist was thick and sticky, like the blood of some kind of creature.

Khalil stared at all this expressionlessly. For some reason, he was not unfamiliar with this scene, as if he had experienced it countless times a long time ago.

The chaotic ocean took him to the location of the fragment. At the same time, he began to think.

He didn't know where he was at the moment, but he could vaguely guess it. What separates the subspace from the material world is a stable curtain. This curtain isolates the hungry gazes of monsters from behind, and also protects humans from direct gaze.

The reason why these things can happen in the material world is because the bloody false god devoted too much power and paid an unimaginable price. Khalil didn't know what means he used to achieve this, but he This must be taken advantage of.

There are countless monsters in the subspace, but the subspace itself is the biggest monster.

It accepted him a long time ago, even if he left and became what the monsters called a betrayer, it also welcomed him back briefly, because it has no emotion or intelligence, it is just an existence, it only has a certain kind of existence. Instinct, nothing more.

This instinct made the dark power whisper in Khalil's ears. It calls out to the power hidden beneath the skin of Khalil Lohars, begging him to let his authority be fully unleashed.

Let him sit on the throne.

Sounds wonderful, right? However, the reality is that every second that he breathes here, the body of Khalil Lohars is bleeding and losing some irreparable life.

But the will that dominates this body doesn't care.

continue. He gave the order. The darkness obeyed, and the burning flames ignited from the other side of the curtain, carrying the pale giant to the other side that he could not reach originally.

Behind the curtain, a being wearing ferocious armor and sitting on a brass throne let out a terrifying roar at this moment. The chaotic world shook endlessly, and the stars died and rolled away in the long river of blood.

He couldn't accept this, but he had to accept it. And another being who was always watching here made an undisguised laugh at his experience.

A strong squeezing feeling came from his limbs, and Kalil groaned, feeling that several bones in his body were broken during this 'leap'.

He adjusted his posture in the air and finally landed smoothly. When he raised his head, he saw an Astartes wearing blue and white armor staring at him seriously, holding a chain ax in his hand.

"Who are you?!" he asked sternly, the hand holding the ax not shaking at all, even if he was facing a giant that was much taller than him. "Send your name!"

Khalil said nothing, but slowly folded his hands together and performed an eagle salute.

Astartes was suddenly startled. Although he still did not put down his axe, when he spoke again, his tone had become much gentler: "Who are you?"

"Khalil Lohars. From the Eighth Legion."

Astartes was silent for a moment, then raised his arms again: "My cousins ​​cannot be so tall."

Khalil still didn't answer his words.

His vision is still affected by darkness, which makes his eyes far away from the simplicity that a mortal should have, and reaches a terrifying other side. He stared at the Astartes in front of him and saw all of his past, and even saw a blood-red collar around his neck.

A. The symbol of slaves.

Khalil sighed softly, his anger flashed away, and the cold light lit up the next moment, and the Astartes roared alertly.

"Psychic?!"

He immediately wanted to resist, but the enemy had disappeared, and he could not find any trace of the giant. Khalil disappeared into thin air, leaping out from behind him in a manner that the Astartes could not understand, ripping off his helmet and lifting him to his feet.

"Don't move." Khalil whispered.

He stretched out his right hand and strangled Astartes' neck. The cold temperature disappeared in a flash. Astartes' eyes widened. At this moment, all the confusion in his mind dissipated, and he finally remembered everything.

Khalil let go and let the Astartes fall to the ground, feeling a terrible fatigue. The consequences of purging the false god's power were more serious than he thought.

Use human bodies to exercise the authority that belongs to gods.

It would be fine if he just summoned the dead to seek revenge, but what he was doing now was truly walking in the realm of gods.

"Who are you?" Astarte looked at him in surprise. "what did you do to me?"

"I helped clear up the fog for you. Like I said, I'm from the 8th Legion. You don't have to believe me, Karn from the 8th Company of War Hounds, but," Khalil spoke slowly. "I'm just here to help."

"My cousins ​​are as pale as you, but their eyes are not as dark as yours." Kahn frowned. "Besides, he's nowhere near as tall as you."

Khalil shook his head calmly: "I never said I was an Astartes."

"You are not an Astartes, so why can you join -" Kahn stopped talking. He looked at Khalil in surprise and did not speak for a long time.

Khalil sighed, knowing that he had misunderstood: "I am not the Primarch of the Eighth Legion, Karn of the War Hounds, but now I need you to recall one thing."

"What? What are you going to do?" Kahn asked nervously.

"Think about your ship," Khalil said quietly. "It's called the Resolve, isn't it?"

"Yes, but how would you know?"

"Think about it, Kahn." Khalil slowly exhaled a breath of cold air with silence, and vomited a large mouthful of blood in the next moment.

The backlash is already showing.

"you--"

"——Keep calm." Khalil stood up straight and extended his right hand to him. "Think about your boat."

Kahn raised his head and stared at the pale giant, not knowing what to say. He still had many questions that needed to be answered. However, from the dark eyes that stared at him calmly, Kahn saw his own reflection.

He clearly saw the war dog emblem on his right shoulder.

Then he reached out, took the cold hand, and began to do as he was told.

——

Two seconds before the light was about to bloom, Angron was reading. Although this process was often accompanied by the pain imposed on him by the Butcher's Nails, he enjoyed the feeling of gaining knowledge.

What he was reading was a novel on Macragge. It described in detail how an ordinary soldier who was discharged from the army because of his disability witnessed the collapse of his country in just two years. The soldier finally committed suicide by drinking a bullet. .

Angron especially liked the scene where the soldier was insulted because of his disability, got drunk in a bar, and was thrown out of the bar to lie in a cold alley fighting an imaginary enemy. He kept this scene firmly in his mind. Note it down.

'He stared at the cold, dark alley, and a strong anger surged in his heart. He sat up, leaned against the entrance of the alley, and began to curse his right leg. ’

'Damn you, you worthless lame! You caused me to end up in this hellish place! What a lousy place this is! I am a soldier, and I retired from the army to protect them, but they call me a murderer. Even the children on the street look down on me! ’

'He looked at the alley again. Too much alcohol had destroyed his vision, making him feel like someone was looking at him in the darkness - he widened his eyes and saw some shadows after a few cold minutes. ’

‘There are indeed people there! It's his enemy! They are people from the Principality of Alvador. They are marching here in crisp uniforms with guns on their shoulders! How did they come? Where are the guards, where are the guards in the city? Why didn't they sound the alarm? ! Could it be a rebellion? No, no! ’

'He reluctantly got up, stood unsteadily in the cold wind, raised his cane, and cursed loudly into the darkness. ’

And now.

Angron stood in front of the porthole. He had closed the book and placed it on Guilliman's coffee table. The gladiator stared at the huge battleship waiting quietly in the vacuum, and felt a complicated feeling in his heart that he could not explain.

Then, someone opened the door and walked in. Angron turned around and saw Robert Guilliman with a serious face.

"You need to come with me, brother," he said briefly but forcefully. "Something happened, did you see that ship?"

"I saw it."

"That is the flagship of your legion, the Unwavering Resolve." Deep wrinkles appeared between Guilliman's brows. "At least the second half is."

"."

Angron nodded wordlessly.

The update has been completed, I recommend a book, the same seedling of Hammer Literature, "Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul", the writing is very good, if you want to support the boss, go read it!