40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 205 30. Transactions and Dreams (two in one)

Falling from orbit is not fun, ever. The deck was trembling, and so were the walls, metal banging against each other within the confines of the bolts with an excruciating jolt.

There are no so-called 'seats' in the transport plane. When the night blades stand next to each other, they even have to avoid stepping on each other's feet.

That's basically the only thing they can do when they land in the normal way.

No, maybe plus small talk.

"I heard that the Adeptus Mechanicus is studying the shock absorption system." Van Cleef said. The voice of the company commander was still clear in the noise, and the communication channel steadily output his voice to Khalil's ears. "Do you think this news is true?"

"Maybe," Khalil said. "However, even if it is developed, I am afraid it will not be used by us immediately."

His voice is equally clear, but not protected by technology like Van Cleef. To be fair, he didn't speak loudly, but he could still hear every word.

Siani curled his lips at what their instructor said. He was not wearing a helmet, and his expression showed clearly that he looked unhappy.

Having a bad relationship with the Mechanicus is actually an old tradition of the Eighth Legion.

After all, you can't expect a group of superhumans who run around killing people and not caring about anything else to mingle with a group of people obsessed with research and murdering to protect what they know.

Although the two parties have cooperated quite often, in most cases, the Adeptus Mechanicus is just a formality to recover the technology located in the pile of corpses, nothing more.

The priests in red robes did not care about where the technology came from, just as the Eighth Legion did not care about the identity of the people they were about to kill.

However, no one can deny the benefits of having a good relationship with the Mechanicus.

However, you can't expect anyone in Night Blade to have a good relationship with them. A Siani can be regarded as a genetic mutation, and a Siani who likes machinery and is obsessed with the beauty of machines is even less likely.

The landing process was not long, but in just thirty minutes, their transport plane arrived at one of the eight landing pads in Quintus Hive. The hatch slowly opened, and two hundred people walked out one after another, while more transport planes passed by in the sky.

They will always land, no bird can fly forever.

Khalil walked out of the cabin, and the cold air hitting his face made his expression look a little loose and dazed.

Nowadays, the meaning of the word Nostramo has changed from 'living hell' to another noun. Khalil would always try to avoid thinking about that term, but he wouldn't deny it.

Honestly, what's there to deny?

"Primary body." Van Cleef's voice came from the front, with a little surprise. "Aren't you going to work today?"

"It's three o'clock in the morning. To be honest, Van Cleef, it really chills me that you ask me why I don't work at this time." Conrad Coates replied with a complicated expression. "I've finished my work today."

"What about tomorrow?" Khalil asked calmly.

The Lord of Midnight sighed obviously. He acted normally, but his shoulders couldn't help but sink a little, and his standing posture became much more relaxed: "I think it's best to do things tomorrow."

"But it's already tomorrow." Khalil smiled. "What do you think, Legion Commander?"

"I think you talk too much - don't you, Van Cleef?"

The first company commander expressed his attitude by putting on his helmet. Seeing this, Konrad Coates couldn't help but make a slight noise from his throat.

His eyes widened.

"Van Cleef!"

"Yes, I am here, Primarch." The Captain answered the Primarch's call dullly.

Kurtz choked, and seemed to want to say something, but refused.

He chuckled uncontrollably and gestured for them to follow him. Five minutes later, they arrived at a conference room.

A faint light floated above the head, and the holographic projection flickered in front of the conference table. A dark world is clearly revealed in the fluorescence. If you stand farther away, it will look like a dull dark blue gem.

In fact, if you consider the ore it contains, then there is no problem in calling it a gem.

"The Adeptus Mechanicus wants to trade with us," the Primarch said softly. "They need adamantine and research permissions on some ancient technologies on Nostramo. I can accept the former, but I don't like the latter."

Ancient Technology on Nostramo

Khalil narrowed his eyes and his voice became duller: "Don't tell me, they want to study those torture devices that have been around for who knows how long."

"Absolutely," said Conrad Coates, who didn't seem surprised.

He turned his head and looked at his company commander. Van Cleef took off his helmet again at this moment, and the eyes behind his high cheekbones were very bright.

"It is not difficult to understand, Primarch. I don't know much about the Adeptus Mechanicus, but every Tech-Priest has a fanatical pursuit of it."

"That sounds really disturbing." Coze said thoughtfully, seeming to remember something. "Anything that has anything to do with fanaticism is probably not good."

Khalil tapped his fingers on the table, drawing attention to it. He asked expressionlessly: "So, what are they going to exchange for us?"

"Replacement of the obsolete instruments on the Night Veil, engine maintenance, and free maintenance and replacement of weapons and equipment for thirty years."

Konrad Coates couldn't help but smile. His expression looked quite intriguing, and he added something later.

"The priest even promised to deliver twenty power weapons every month for the next ten years."

Khalil glanced at him and saw his hidden true thoughts: Of course the Lord of Midnight found these conditions very tempting, but he was actually more curious about another thing than these.

"The instruments used for torture are actually so attractive to them?" Khalil asked this question on his behalf.

"Maybe it's just because it's ancient," the company commander once again gave a guess.

Konrad Coates nodded, and the fluorescence was dissipated the next moment, no longer illuminating his face. Now, there was only a glimmer of light left in the room.

"So, let's talk about reserve Yago Savitarion." Konrad Coze said.

"Our only recruit performed very well in the past six months. He passed the physical training with flying colors and performed well in the subsequent weapons training. Although there was a slight setback in swordsmanship at the beginning, he was very good. Adjusted quickly.”

"Jairzinho believes that the operation can officially begin. He believes that Yago Sevitarion is completely ready, but for now, there is still one problem that has not been solved."

"What's the problem?" Khalil asked.

"He's been having nightmares. Every night for six months. The Think Tanks have examined it and they've determined that there's no psychic influence behind it. It's hard for me not to think of it as The reason comes down to the twentieth operation. Now, he can hold on, but what happens next?”

Conrad Coates paused. He seemed to be smiling, but his tone seemed a bit too flat.

"Maybe he'll get through it, maybe he won't. And we don't know now whether this dream will stop, and if it doesn't stop, then..."

He didn't continue, but both Carrier and Van Cleef actually understood what he wanted to say.

The Astartes don't really need long periods of rest like sleep. After they are implanted with the neural node, they can use it to shut down different areas of the brain in turn. They can use this to achieve a fast and high-quality rest state. , similar to meditation.

Sleep is a very rare thing for Astartes, but if Sevatar's condition spreads until he officially becomes an Astartes.

"He might break down." Van Cleef advanced the discussion rationally. "Unless he insists on not meditating, but I think that will only make him collapse faster."

"What was the dream about?" Khalil asked emotionlessly.

"He didn't say anything, and the think tanks couldn't get into his sleep." Coze frowned. "This is the crux of the problem. His dream was affected by the ritual, and our think tank has no way to break through the barrier built by the ritual."

Khalil nodded slowly and stood up, with no trace of emotion on his face. Neither Van Cleef nor Conrad Coates could extract any information from his analysis.

However, for some reason, Konrad Coates suddenly felt that Khalil did not seem surprised.

"This is an issue that needs to be taken seriously, and now is a break."

He said this and walked into the darkness in front of them, his figure disappearing in an instant. The darkness itself did not even persist; it faded into a loose mist.

Konrad Coze was silent for a moment, then turned to look at his company commander.

"Van Cleef, when did he start acting like this?"

"Perhaps you should ask how long this phenomenon has lasted." Van Cleef replied tactfully. "And I would answer at least four months."

The Midnight Lord's expression became unspeakable at a speed visible to the naked eye.

——

Iago Severtarion is dreaming.

Again.

again.

He could clearly feel that he was in a dream now. This feeling was strange, but he was used to it. The six months of high-intensity training have brought him not only a stronger body and mastery of the discipline of 'killing', but also a fundamental change.

He became tolerant.

He could endure the pain, endure the fear, endure being knocked down again and again, endure the physical training that seemed to never end and the emptiness after returning to the dormitory alone. It’s natural to endure the strange feeling brought about by dreams.

But the problem is that he still needs to endure another thing.

Or rather, something else.

Corpses, wandering corpses. They were tall, they wore midnight-colored armor, and they looked like ghosts from a ghost story, which they were.

The most crucial point is that Yago Savitarion actually knows them.

He knew them, even though he had never actually met them.

Savita took a deep breath and started walking forward. He was in a desolate world, empty and empty except for the dead. The sky is blood-colored, but there are also gauze-like clouds hanging on it.

The reserve ran through a pool of rubble and received the first death in this night's dream.

"Hello, boy." Sergeant Tadeusz, who had lost half of his face, said with a smile.

His armor was riddled with dents and scratches, and the ceramite could not escape the fate of being destroyed. His helmet was also damaged, and one eyepiece hung in front of his only remaining eye, staring emotionlessly at Sevatar.

"Hello, Sergeant Tadeusz," Sevita said. "Why are you here to welcome me today?"

"Because everyone else is dead." The sergeant grinned. "Of course, I was joking - just in case you're too stupid to catch it, I'd better explain my joke."

"I'm not that stupid." The reserve curled his lips. "Your jokes aren't even funny."

"You don't have any say."

"I am the only one who can see you. Who has the final say? It doesn't matter what I say." Saiweita responded. "Also, why do you have to wear that broken helmet?"

"Guess." The dead sergeant sneered with malice in his terrible face. "Can you guess the right answer, kid?"

"I'm too lazy to guess."

Sevatar brought a stone and sat on it. He put his elbows on his thighs, supported his cheeks, and looked at the dead sergeant boredly: "But..."

"Oh, no, don't even think about it, boy." Sergeant Tadeusz suddenly became serious. "I can't possibly tell you how to deal with those fighter servants anymore. It's no different from cheating."

"Come on, don't you want to hear me describe Richtnar's surprised expression?"

"I think I'd want to hear more if you could rely on your own efforts instead of surprising him with the experience you heard from a bunch of dead people." The sergeant shook his finger at him sternly. "There is nothing wrong with your street smartness, but if you keep relying on it, sooner or later, you will die in its hands."

"But I really have no talent for swordsmanship. Besides, if you don't want to talk to me, then why do you have to come to my dreams every night?"

Tadeusz did not answer the question, and the dead sergeant slowly took off his helmet so that half of his pale face could be fully exposed.

He glared at Savita with his only eye: "Do you think we dead people really want to see you, a stupid boy who doesn't know the heights of heaven and earth, every day?"

"Since you don't want to." Savita muttered. "Why do you have to come here every day? I really want to have a good sleep."

The sergeant looked at him with a sneer and said nothing. Silence spread for a while, and then another footsteps sounded on the gravel beach.

He came from behind Sevita, which made the reserve's expression immediately change from not surprising at first to a kind of horror - in the past six months, the dead had never appeared outside his sight.

Moreover, Sergeant Tadeusz's changing expression at this moment also explained one thing to a certain extent.

Yago Severtalion immediately turned around, stood up suddenly, and took the stone in his hand. However, the owner of the footsteps was not the evil spirit that finally appeared in the nightmare as he thought, but a person he really knew.

Khalil Lohars, instructor of the Midnight Blades. The tall and pale giant stood there, staring quietly at Sevatar who was in a funny posture. The latter reacted quickly after being stunned for more than ten seconds.

He dropped the stone, his pale face quickly turning paler. Even his voice trembled when he spoke.

"Teach, teach, instructor...?!"

Khalil nodded to him and raised his eyebrows: "What's wrong?"

"You-why are you here?!"

"Can't I be here?"

"But, here is -" Sevita looked back at Sergeant Tadeusz, with a look of help on his face. The sergeant raised his head, using his height advantage to prevent Sevita from seeing his expression at this moment.

Seeing this scene, the reserve officer gritted his teeth and spoke out himself. "——This is a place where only dead people come!"

"What about you?" Khalil asked. "You are not a dead person, why are you here?"

Sevatar was stunned.

"You don't think the instructor is dead, do you, kid?" the sergeant said softly behind him. "You are so brave, how dare you think like this? It seems I have to teach you a little lesson."

He walked through the reserve with a low smile, came to Khalil, and put on his helmet: "The mission was successfully completed, instructor."

"Well done, Sergeant." Khalil nodded approvingly. "How is he doing?"

"The talent is indeed amazing," Tadeusz replied in a low voice. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing? His psychic talent seems to be a little too strong."

"He's still very young," Khalil replied meaningfully. "Anyway, leave it to me now."

"Understood, instructor."

Tadeusz turned his head and nodded to Sevita. A black flame ignited from the bottom of his feet in the next second, wrapped the sergeant and left.

The sanity that Sevatar had just regained was emptied again. He was stunned for a while before he remembered that he should turn his head and observe the other dead people in the wasteland - he did this, and the dead people were once densely packed. The wasteland is now deserted.

Now, it's just Khalil and himself.

".What's going on, instructor?" After a long silence, Yago Savitarion asked.

"What do you think?" Khalil knelt down and kept eye level with him. His voice was still soft, but coupled with the pair of dark eyes, Sevita suddenly felt a sense of fear. He would eliminate this emotion in the future, but not now.

Now, he still gets scared.

"I don't know."

"It's normal not to know, Sevita. Unfortunately, the answer to this question is not something you can know now." Khalil smiled at him, stretched out his hand, and poked his forehead. . "Now, go back to your normal sleep."

Savita's pupils shrank sharply, he opened his mouth and tried to say something more, but there was no chance - he was wrapped in black flames and disappeared in the next second.

Khalil stood up and shook his head. The flame did not disappear, but continued to burn. After a moment, an illusory armor-clad figure emerged from it. The midnight-colored armor has lightning-like lines on it, and his expression is calm.

Khalil stared at him. After a few seconds, he suddenly reached out his hand again and poked the man's forehead.

"Don't be like this, instructor." The man's calm expression disappeared in an instant, and he couldn't help complaining. "No one has done this in ten thousand years."

"Ten thousand years" Khalil said slowly. "Are we all dead?"

"I can't say, instructor." The pale man replied sternly. "I really can't say - I didn't even think I'd be found out by you today."

"I know you can't say it, but I've discovered you a long time ago." Khalil smiled at him. "I will never forget anyone, even in a special situation like you."

"."

The illusory shadow remained silent about this sentence. He seemed to be sad, but he didn't seem to be. After a while, he spoke again.

"I'd like to say something, instructor."

"No," Khalil said. "You can't say."

"But--"

"——You can't say."

For the second time in his life, Khalil interrupted. He looked sternly at the shadow and shook his head at him.

"I know what you want to do, but you can't do it. Think about it carefully, reserve force, is there still a chance of hope in the future?"

Shadow spoke tremblingly, his voice so trembling that it was almost unrecognizable: "There's more, there's more, instructor. We've found your weapons and armor, we"

He stopped his voice abruptly, and the pause and lengthening at the end of his sentence sounded almost like a whimper.

"Then, that's enough." The pale giant nodded gently to him. "Leave."

The shadow slowly dissipated.

update completed.

A little spoiler to give you some idea.