40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 121 24. Burn out (3)

Gil Baldwin waved his arm and pulled out a power sword picked up on the road from the enemy's chest.

The owner of the twisted face fell to the ground, the dirty ashes scattered in the wind, and the blue-white armor reappeared. Gil Baldwin didn't know the reason for this, but he knew the last name of every brother he killed. Whose name.

He knew everything, but that didn't stop him from continuing to fight.

"Who's next?!" he roared at the enemy on the bridge. "Gil Baldwin of War Hounds awaits!"

The next man rushed forward and was knocked down by him, but also gave him a new scar. The man fell to the ground, and Gil recognized who he was, Lo Endless of the Third Company, and now he was dead, killed by Gil Baldwin, their regimental commander himself.

But it doesn't matter, I'm not dead yet.

"Next!" the war hound roared at the sea of ​​scarlet and brass. "who is the next?!"

The next, and the next, and the next, and the next—the bodies piled up, and Gil Baldwin's body began to drain of blood, but he remained standing.

He was only a few steps away from the bridge and communications equipment. If he could win this battle, he would be able to send out a transmission to contact the nearest Imperial fleet.

He had already thought of it, he would send a code to let them understand that this was Gil Baldwin, Master of the War Hounds of the Twelfth Legion, and then he would issue an order, and he would make it known in the name of the Emperor to all Imperial fleets who received the message Come and open fire on them.

The Resolute Resolve no longer has the protection of its shield, and its power system and all other systems have shut down. It only takes one salvo, or two salvos, and the tainted War Dog will completely disappear and become dust in space. .

He must be.

They must be.

"Next!" Jill Baldwin barked into the darkness, with a ferocious face. His face had long been obscured by blood and dust, but his eyes were still bright. "who is the next?!"

There were no answers, no enemies rushing towards him with a thirst for blood. He looked around and saw the dead eyes of his brothers.

Gil Baldwin dropped the power sword and tossed it away like trash.

He stumbled forward. He was too familiar with the bridge of the Resolute Resolve. Even though it had turned into an almost unrecognizable place of twisted evil, he could still recognize its details hidden by the skull. .

He spent most of his life here.

He rushed toward an instrument, his gauntlets brushing against its torn-out cables. Then he used it as a springboard and pushed himself to another long, dark platform, which he knew where to be.

Gil Baldwin fell to his knees, then got up again, grabbed the edge of the iron platform with his hands that had almost lost all strength, and pulled himself up.

I'm dying. he thinks.

He stood up straight, then supported his body and used the iron platform to replace his weak legs.

He wiped away the dark dust, found a few buttons, and pressed them - Gil Baldwin could feel his life slipping away, his eyes almost closing, but not yet.

In a few seconds, the machine lit up, a faint blue light flashing in the darkness. The communication system had emergency power, which was great.

Jill wanted to laugh, but she didn't have the energy. There was a dark vacuum outside the porthole in front of him. He breathed the smelly air without even looking at the vacuum. He could barely feel the joy and anger welling up in his heart.

Cold contentment, contentment wrapped in death.

He fell to the ground again and lay on the iron platform - he should have crushed the machine, but he didn't, maybe because his blood had dried up.

Jill Baldwin leaned against it and touched a button with her cheek. The machine began to search for nearby Imperial ships and responded with a creaking mechanical tone.

Unfortunately, Jill Baldwin could no longer hear the response.

He opened his mouth and spoke after several seconds. He first read out a complex identity code, then touched another button with his cheek, setting the broadcast to repeat broadcast mode.

At this moment, he began to be especially grateful to the group of communicators headed by Talloran. They pursued efficiency, so they set up this unique communication button, which simplified many complex operations into operations that could be replaced by a single button.

But they were dead too, all of them, and their bodies were hanging outside the bridge.

Is there anyone alive on our ship besides the enemy?

Jill Baldwin doesn't have an answer.

He opened his mouth, his body was on the verge of death, but his will still made him speak, speak clearly.

"This is Legion Master Gil Baldwin of the War Hounds. I have sent the code. I demand that any Imperial fleet that receives this message immediately opens fire on us. This is no joke. I am the Emperor and our Primarch Angor. On Lang's behalf, this is not a joke, no matter who you are, please open fire on us."

Thirty seconds, long, brief, the last thirty seconds.

He finally finished speaking this passage, speaking it clearly and speaking it covered in dust and blood.

Jill Baldwin fell heavily to the ground, with no warmth or strength remaining in her body. He opened his eyes, his pupils began to expand, and two dry tears rolled down, streaking through the blood and dust, and shattered into pieces.

Angron.

In his final moments, the War Hound's Gil Baldwin continued to mutter the name of the Primarch they had never met.

——

"What's the meaning?"

asked Roboute Guilliman - already donning his armor and taking his weapons. He was armed. The same cannot be said for his brother. Angron is taller than Guilliman, so naturally he cannot wear the armor tailor-made for the Lord of Macragge.

However, no one advised him not to join this gang-hopping gang.

"Literally, the Primarch."

Marius Gage spoke to his primarch on the bridge via the ship's intercom.

"We received a broadcast from the Resolute. Its signal is unfamiliar and is not what it looks like in the database, but the code reported by the broadcaster is correct. He claims to be Gil Baldwin, the commander of the War Hounds. , he asked us to open fire on the Resolute."

Guilliman turned and glanced at his brother from his private arsenal. Angron frowned, so Guilliman said: "Play this speech."

"Are you sure, Primarch?" Marius Gage asked in the arsenal.

"I am sure."

A few seconds later, a voice that could not be described in words sounded from Robert Guilliman's personal arsenal.

"This is Legion Master Gil Baldwin of the War Hounds. I have sent the code and I demand that any Imperial fleet that receives this message immediately opens fire on us. This is no joke. I am the Emperor and our Primarch Angor. In the name of Lang, I swear this is not a joke, no matter who you are, please open fire on us."

silence.

Robert Guilliman looked back at his brother and saw that Angron's face was changing at a slow pace.

"Primarch?"

"What's up?"

"Are we going to open fire?"

"."

Guilliman did not answer. He looked at his brother again, but Angron had closed his eyes, and his expression gradually became a terrifying vortex that Robert Guilliman could not understand.

Guilliman suddenly understood something with his extraordinary powers of observation, and understood the only thing his brother wanted to do at this moment.

He wants to find the person who made his Legion like this, and then he wants revenge.

revenge.

This concept appeared in an instant, and the lights in the arsenal began to flicker on and off. The unique rustling sound of the communication system disappeared at this moment, replaced by some kind of gloomy and solemn low sound, a thousand- —Or maybe it was the voices of ten thousand dead people, playing lowly in the arsenal.

Guilliman tried to speak, but he was unable to do so as the temperature plummeted, almost to the point of freezing his blood. The next second, as Angron opened his eyes, the surrounding scene finally turned into complete darkness.

And Khalil Lohars stood before them.

With a bloody appearance, his eyes were shining with golden light.

"Don't fire, Robert," he said in a soft voice. "There are still war dogs fighting bloody battles on the Unwavering Resolve. Although they long for death, do you really want to send them to death with your own hands?"

Khalil? What's going on? Guilliman wanted to ask him, but he was speechless and unable to speak.

"I" the bloody Khalil lowered his head and showed a smile. "I can't tell you specifically about it, and you know why, Robert."

Guilliman frowned.

Are you using psychic communication? Who hurt you like this?

"It's not important, Robert Angron."

Khalil sighed.

"You can board the ship."

He said calmly, his face began to change back and forth between pale bones and bloody flesh. The golden light was still there, but it had weakened a lot.

Vaguely, Guilliman heard a series of angry thunder and the sound of some kind of feather scraping, accompanied by high-pitched laughter.

"I have cleared the obstacles for you, but don't bring anyone else with you. Only the two of you can board that ship. The power I can still use is not enough to support the many warriors I help you, Robert."

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Go and save Angron," Khalil said to them. "Go and save your legion, your flagship, your heirs"

As the words fell, the thunder faded away, and Armeiku returned to normal in the next second. Angron and Robert Guilliman maintained absolute silence, but Marius Gage's words still echoed in their ears.

"Shall we fire, Primarch? Lord Angron?"

After a long time, Angron, the gladiator from Nuceria, spoke his first words in a new identity.

"No," he said slowly. "Don't fire."

Guilliman looked at him, feeling genuinely sad for him. But at the same time, there was another kind of cold anger rising in his heart.

"I will help you," Robert Guilliman said seriously. "We will find the culprit and we will throw him into hell."

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