40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 126 29. Resurrection from the cemetery (Part 1)

Not many people would believe this when told about it, but there was indeed a medical hall on the Night Veil.

It is located between the upper deck and the lower deck. It is a quiet and cold place. The heat transported in the pipes in the wall has no impact on this place. It is a place that cleverly avoids all the noise and bustle.

It is as quiet as a cemetery. In fact, it does look like a cemetery. There is even mist here.

Now, if you can pass through the twelve security gates and pass through the layers of isolation rooms isolated by airtight bulletproof glass, you can reach its main hall, a huge ward with energy supply cables all over the ground. .

This place is completely different from a regular ward. The lights are dim, the environment is gloomy and cold, but for people who have lived here for a short time in the past, these are meaningless.

In other words, the Eighth Legion didn't care what their 'ward' looked like. And Konrad Coates didn't care.

At this moment, he was staring silently through the bulletproof glass at a corpse covered with many instruments. Jairzinho Guzman, the medical officer of the Eighth Legion, stood beside him and remained silent with him.

Thirteen minutes later, a meditator in the aisle hummed heavily. So Guzman immediately ran over and came back seconds later with a report.

He raised his head, looked at his tall and gloomy original body, and handed over the diagnostic report, but Konrad Curze did not reach out to take it.

"Would you mind telling me the results directly, Jairzinho?" the Lord of the Eighth Legion asked softly. He had his hands behind his back, and the cuff of his right hand was empty.

"As you command, Primarch."

The medical officer immediately obeyed. He lowered his head and quickly scanned the document before speaking.

"Judging from the examination report, the deceased showed no signs of life, and there was no organic tissue on the bones that could be investigated. From a medical and physiological sense, he was completely dead."

"So, what was the cause of death?" Coz asked again, his expression very calm.

For a moment, Guzman didn't know how to answer this question.

Four hours ago, when his original body carried this corpse to the medical hall, there were four medical teams here trying to overcome the miners' lung disease, and they wanted to reverse the patients who had already progressed to an advanced stage.

This is necessary, not only because Konrad Coates personally said the words "Everyone's life is precious", but also because everyone in the Eighth Legion has seen North with their own eyes. Teramo.

No one should live like that, they all agreed.

Now, they have left with the equipment and dispersed to various medical rooms on the ship to continue their research work.

Conrad Coates told the story of why he did this and expressed his deep apologies for disturbing the medical officers' work - but Guzman was certain that his medical team would not be able to find out tonight. No results.

After all, the corpse was named Khalil Lohars.

"The cause of death was severe heat." Guzman replied in a low voice. "However, no promethium flame can burn away flesh and blood without destroying bones, Primarch."

"According to our understanding of science and the laws of physics, yes. Moreover, common flames cannot keep his bones at high temperatures."

Cozz lowered his head and looked at the medical officer, his expression still calm, as if the mood swings four hours ago were just a dream. However, out of sight of Guzman, his hands were opening and closing repeatedly.

"Primarch, do you want to talk about psychic powers?"

The leader of the Eighth Legion fell into deep thought and did not answer. He was very calm, almost eerily calm. Staring at his side face, the medical officer felt a biting chill rising from the bottom of his heart for some unknown reason.

"No," Conrad Coates said some time later. "More than that - that's it for tonight, Jairzinho, you can go and rest."

What about you, Primarch?

Jairzinho Guzmán forced himself not to speak. He stood there and continued to accompany his primarch in silent silence for a while. Conrad Coates raised his head and sighed softly.

Then he smiled.

"I'm fine." He lowered his head and blinked at Guzman in the same way. "You should still have work to do tomorrow, right? It's only six hours until eight o'clock in the morning. If I remember correctly, it should be your turn to be on duty on the ground today?"

"Yes, Primarch," Guzman said. "I'm in charge of Quintus."

"Then you need some time to rest." Konrad Coates said patiently.

Jairzinho Guzman did not insist anymore. He quickly left this gloomy and quiet cemetery, leaving their original body and a corpse there. The medical officer's mood was extremely calm, but he did not go to his room, but to the upper deck.

This matter must be known to all the soldiers of the Eighth Legion. He didn't know why their instructor came back in the form of a corpse before the 500 people who went with him, but he didn't care about it very much.

This is a blood feud. Jairzinho Guzman thought calmly. And we will have our revenge.

Midnight Ghost slowly exhaled a breath of cold air. Jairzinho Guzman left, everyone left, and he was the only one left in the medical hall. It was nice that he no longer had the responsibility and he could be someone else for a short time.

Two minutes later, he passed the inspection and entered the hall. The mist lingered at his feet and did not disperse as he moved. The ghost slowly approached the skeleton lying on the iron platform with the pace he had learned.

He gently pushed away the instrument and the connected inspection wire, and pushed the iron platform to a relatively open place. Then, he slowly sat down against the iron platform, as if leaning against a corner.

After a long silence, he spoke.

"I know you're alive, Khalil," the Midnight Ghost hissed. "I can feel it. I shouldn't be hallucinating at that time, right?"

There was no answer, just cold silence and a flash of cold blue light. The corpse trembled slightly, and its right hand slipped from the iron platform, gently leaning on the Midnight Ghost's shoulder.

The ghost was startled, but soon laughed.

"I knew it," he said firmly in a soft tone. "So, come to life quickly"

He lowered his head again.

——

Drifting, familiar feeling, cold and lonely. The ghost was indifferent to this and just wanted to wake up quickly.

He still has a lot of work to do. And that doesn't include comforting the midnight ghosts, yes.

Midnight Ghost does not need the comfort of a ghost, he is already strong enough.

But maybe he shouldn't be called a ghost now, he's no longer a nameless monster.

Khalil Lohars, a name he occupied, became the anchor that truly anchored him to reality.

Even on the covenant, he wrote this name. He rolled his eyes, wondering where he was at this moment, but the world suddenly changed in the next moment.

A tired man with dirty blood on his face stood in front of him holding a sword and staring at him thoughtfully.

"Khalil Lohars?" he asked slowly.

Khalil nodded as slowly as he did.

The man sighed and dropped the sword. He tapped his temples, and the light flashed away, replaced by a bright room.

The firewood crackled in the fireplace, and the dim yellow light was very gentle. If Khalil was to tell me, this place looked like a hunting cabin in the woods.

He turned his head and began searching the wall for a window.

"There are no windows here," Nios said. "This is a corner of my memory."

Khalil raised an eyebrow, turned his head, and watched him slowly sit down.

Neos shook his head.

"I know what you want to say - it's so sad to find a resting place in your own memory. Is this what you want to say?"

Khalil smiled but did not go over to sit with him, even though the chair Nios was sitting in looked so comfortable. He folded his hands, leaned against the wall and shook his head.

"Aren't we all like this?" he asked calmly. "At this point, the only way to get real rest is death, but we can't get real death."

Nios was silent for a moment, and his clothes changed again. At this moment, he was wearing dirty boots and a thick plaid shirt, and his hands were covered with calluses. He looked like a lumberjack.

"It took me a long time to realize what you just said," he said. "I used to live in seclusion in the mountains and forests, working as a carpenter in isolation. I occasionally hunted animals, skinned them, and sold them to shops in the town down the mountain. This is what I looked like at that time."

Khalil glanced at him and nodded.

"You look sloppy." He smiled and shook his head. "It's not easy to take a bath in the deep mountains and old forests, isn't it?"

"It's not just that it's not easy to take a bath." Nios smiled.

"I made up my mind to be an ordinary person at that time. I often shivered from the cold in the winter, and often forgot to move the firewood from the warehouse, causing it to become damp and difficult to chop and burn. However, looking back now, I was so happy then.”

"You are happy now too."

"Indeed." Nios nodded. "Seeing the future of mankind getting better little by little, for me, it is indeed a kind of happiness."

"What a great speech." Khalil also smiled. However, the smile only flashed and he soon became serious.

"Why can that thing ignore the curtain?" he asked calmly. "What price did He pay?"

"Blood," Neos answered. "His own blood."

"That's it? Just like that, can He ignore the obstruction of the curtain and force the war dogs to become His slaves?"

Neos sighed silently.

"Yes." he said. "But what He gave was not 'just' as you said. What He gave was much more than you and I may know."

Khalil narrowed his eyes.

"Very good." He nodded. "That's good."

He said no more. After a brief silence, they began to continue chatting, as if they were really just a reclusive carpenter and hunter entertaining his friends.

But is it really sad to find a resting haven in one's own memory?

Perhaps no one has the answer.

update completed