40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 263 34. Judgment Day (3)

Nerat Keeling could hear the bell, he could hear it, he could fucking hear it wherever he was.

There is no use covering your ears, and there is no use trying to lose your hearing. The existence of the bell seems to be a kind of ridicule to them - try it? Try it, whatever you want, there is no point in trying.

He just hears it. Somehow, he just hears it.

Captain Shadow grabbed the collar of his uniform and ran his fingers through each button, trying to calm down. But he failed because he saw the sky.

The color of the sky is as light as dust. The sky should not be this color - it shouldn't, it shouldn't be.

What color should the sky be?

Captain Shadow's fingers began to tremble, and his eyeballs turned dully, driving his own visual nerves to look at the fighters hovering in the sky.

They were motionless, as if dead. Their engines no longer roar, their fuselages no longer tremble, and they drag a long white wave of air behind them. This air wave does not disappear, it floats in the sky.

Nerat stared at it and felt a sting in his eyeballs. Only then did he suddenly realize that his eyes were bleeding. Finally, he began to blink, and his vision blurred.

The ground began to tremble and crack, and rich blood emerged from it, but it was like lava with hot bubbles. Inevitably he stared at it, and in this painful but fascinating gaze, the captain's consciousness was torn away.

In the next moment he came to a darker place, naked and separated from everyone. No one was around him except the dead. Silently they stood up in the darkness and stared at him.

His jaw opened, and his last scream before death came out of his throat.

"Why, Captain?"

Nerat wanted to answer, but he didn't have the chance. He blinked once, and just this time, he returned to the crazy hell again.

The ground closed, and no more blood or lava emerged from it. The ground was terrifyingly good, as ordinary as every alien ground he had ever stepped on in his past life.

The captain looked to the ground, his mind once again confused: Where am I? Where is this?

His question was dismissed by a roar, and like a corpse run over by a tank, it instantly turned into splattering fragments and flesh.

"Cheer up, Nerat!" The officer's shouts and curses sounded the next moment. "Look below and focus your attention!"

Well, yes, focus.

Like a puppet, Nerat Keeling bowed his head and did as he was told - what did he see?

He saw a rift valley, collapsed ruins, and the Sorosian Point Corps fighting bloody battles.

Their opponents are bloodless and tearless drones. The Balatrum people have devoted all their life's learning to these drone swarms. They have terrifying firepower, agile movements, and various types. They are formidable enemies even to the Astartes.

Nerat Keeling raised his head and asked his superior: "Are we conducting assault support, sir?"

His commander, a man with half of his body torn off, shook his head at him. He was only as tall as Captain Shadow's waist, but Nerat was looking up at him at this moment, as if he was the giant among them. .

"Assault? Are you out of your mind?" His commander sneered. "We have communicated with the wolves of Horus, and this will serve as a positive lesson in the tactics of another decapitation strike."

"But." Nerat Keeling hesitated for a moment. "This will cause heavy damage to the Point Corps."

"What does it have to do with us?" The man wearing the tattered uniform of the Sorosian Point Corps replied indifferently.

"This is not something we should care about, Captain. We are Astartes, and our lives are far more precious than these mortals. We can sacrifice, but we must die in a valuable place, not here."

A wave of shame welled up in the captain's heart, forcing him to clench his fists.

He hadn't noticed yet that he was still wearing a military uniform instead of power armor. There were no weapons around his waist, just a leather belt. He also didn't notice the look in his commander's eyes at this moment; he didn't notice anything.

The captain lowered his head silently and did not refute anything, as if he had already acquiesced to all subsequent developments.

One hour and fifty-three minutes later, all the Sorosian Point Corps responsible for building fortifications in the middle of the gap were dead. They made numerous requests for support before their deaths, but no one responded.

Looking at the pile of tall corpses, Nerat Keeling felt confused. There was an almost instinctive shame that reminded him of something, but he couldn't see or hear them clearly at the moment.

The only thing he could see was the pile of corpses outside the collapsed walls of Hell's Anvil.

The only thing he could hear was the broken roar of his commander in his ears.

"Get ready, Captain Nerat Keeling! Get ready for me quickly! Bring your Ash Claws and break into the fortress as planned!"

"Yes, sir!" The captain subconsciously put his toes together and loudly answered the officer's words.

Instinctively and mechanically, he reached out to the armed belt around his waist. It was originally empty, with nothing there, but now, as he stretched out his hand, a bolter appeared inexplicably. Just like that, he held the gun and jumped down the rift alone.

The military uniform swayed and the hem fluttered wildly, but the very recognizable sound of the jetpack came to his ears. After several shocks caused by the reaction force, he reached the ground.

"Listen up." Nerat spoke calmly to the non-existent communication channel. He had already entered combat mode.

"The mission is to break into the Hell Anvil and find the energy source of this fortress. According to calculations, the Balatrum people should be using machines with huge thermal energy such as reactors. We need to bypass their overseers and find the reactor , and blow it up directly?”

"I have a question, Captain," a voice said. "Why do we have to listen to Horus? He is not our original body. To abandon the Zorosians without communicating with them is simply too arrogant to accept."

"If you were dissatisfied with the plan beforehand, you should have said it beforehand." Nerat Keelin turned around and started talking to the air where there was no figure.

His expression was distorted, because he actually agreed with the words of the voice. But his duties as a captain did not allow him to disobey the already established orders and plans at this moment.

"In order to win, we need them to make sacrifices to contain the enemy forces. This is all in order to successfully regain Balatrum, and they will understand."

"Will they really understand us?" the voice asked again. "Our actions amounted to betrayal, Captain. We ignored all requests for support from them."

"That's not our concern," Nerat Keeling growled back. "Hold your gun, soldier, and prepare for battle."

"As ordered." Nerat Keelin raised his head mechanically, grasped the illusory gun that appeared in his hand at some point, and bent down into the living hell composed of corpses.

What's the scenery like inside the fortress? Nerat didn't care at all. There was a black-red fog in front of his eyes, and everything was wrapped in the fog. The walls and ground were obviously made of bleeding corpses, but he didn't feel anything strange at all.

The captain walked mechanically, shuttling between the corpses. The confusion of his consciousness did not affect him at all in carrying out his mission at the moment. He was already aware and prepared.

The Astartes are a subspecies of humans who have been transformed in order to win the war. They are superior to humans in some aspects. They gain growth and rebirth in battles, and they will eventually die in a certain battle. This is their fate. , is a fate that cannot be escaped.

Nerat Keeling had accepted this a long time ago, so it only took him a short five hours and twenty-three minutes to lead his non-existent team to the Ion of Hell's Anvil. reactor.

The fortress overseers of the Balatrum people attacked them like crazy. These dry humanoid shapes transformed from living people and covered with mechanical enhancements caused a lot of trouble for his team.

Wait, do they really exist?

For a brief moment that was almost imperceptible, a small suspicion arose in Nerat Keeling's mind.

He stared blankly at the large swaths of broken corpses in front of him, his eyes turning wildly. Enemy, overseer, death. Several words were connected in his mind to form a short sentence.

At this moment, Captain Shadow fell into inevitable madness and fear.

Yes, the Balatrum overseers should have been dead a long time ago. They should have been turned into ashes together with the explosion of the ion reactor. How could they still appear in front of him and fight with him?

The confused memory and time and space made the captain's brain tremble crazily and made saliva flow from the corner of his mouth. After several minutes of torture, he fell to the ground tremblingly, his uniform stained with blood, but he got up again the next second.

This time, his face was blank.

"We found it." Nerat Keeling reported to his superiors with a dull expression and excited tone. "We have found the ion reactor inside Hell's Anvil. Sir, please give instructions on the next actions."

His commander didn't answer.

"Sir?"

"You don't need my instructions, Captain," his commander spoke softly from behind him. "The mission goal was set early, wasn't it? Install the melta bomb, then lead your team to evacuate as quickly as possible and detonate the bomb."

Nerat Kilin turned around in astonishment and looked up at the officer who was much shorter than him again.

"But-" He couldn't help but defend himself. "——This will cause those Zorosians who are still fighting to be killed together. Even if they are not killed, they will be buried by the ruins of Hell's Anvil."

"They are just mortals." The officer smiled coldly, his broken cheeks scorched black. The rough cross-section of flesh makes his face look almost like a postmodern abstract painting.

"And mortals should sacrifice for the Astartes. This is the teaching of Horus. He did not say it explicitly, but he taught you this truth in his own light. The Luna Wolves taught you this. If Astartes Stat can sacrifice himself at will for the Great Crusade, so why can’t mortals?”

Yes, why? Nerat Keeling was stunned again. He wanted to refute, but the remaining sanity was struggling hard, and in his almost dead consciousness, he threw out a sentence in this scorching hell.

"Should we at least inform them?" Captain Shadow said hesitantly. "Even mortals are still auxiliary troops. If they hadn't withstood the frontal battlefield, we would never have won so easily."

The chief sighed, and in an instant, the world was spinning. Darkness struck, pulling Nerat Keeling forcefully into the deep darkness he had once walked into. Once again, he was naked. Once again, there was no one around him.

Once again, the dead turned their empty gazes.

"Why didn't you say so then, Captain?" his commander asked quietly. "Why didn't you say those words then?"

Nerat Keeling was stunned, he couldn't believe what he saw.

One second, he was fighting against their abominable supervisors in the huge fortress of the Balatrum people. The next second, he was here and saw these dead people. These were dead people with pale faces, black eyes, and open mouths exposing withered gums.

"I"

"Why, Captain?" the commander continued. "Why do you have to watch us die and do nothing?"

Am I hallucinating? Nerat asked himself, but got no answer. Then, he looked at that person, the person he called sir.

His eyes scanned every detail of the bloody face, and finally, some memories that were too long ago even for him were evoked.

A creepy feeling suddenly arose behind the captain's ears. He had never felt the intense chill and the urge to vomit out his two hearts like this before in his life.

"It's you."

Between the chaotic time, chaotic memories and chaotic self, Nerat Keeling spoke softly, his voice as thin as a mosquito.

"It's you."

"Yes, it's me." said the officer. "The Sorosian who communicated with you before the war, you finally recognized me, Captain."

"Why?" Nerat Keeling asked with difficulty. "Is this some kind of revenge?"

"No, that's not it." The Zorosian smiled. "If I wanted to take revenge on you, you wouldn't be talking to me here. But I actually have every legitimate reason to take revenge. Do you agree with this?"

Nerat Keeling was silent for a long time before he nodded gently.

"I agree," he admitted and repeated. "I agree, you have every reason and right to take revenge."

"So, this is not a premeditated revenge." The Sorosian smiled and shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, Captain, I'm no saint. I would kill you if I had the chance."

He raised his hand and pointed mysteriously at the top of his head. There was nothing in the darkness, but at this moment, the sound of a bell suddenly came. No, maybe the bell never left.

"He who awakened us from eternal sleep has given us this sacred right. Have you ever heard the bell? That is His declaration. Revenge is sacred and supreme, and no one with any reason left can His enemies should be allowed to continue to breathe greedily in the world.”

He paused, his eyes reflecting the color of dusk suddenly filled with sadness.

"Do you know why I haven't taken action yet?" the Sorosian asked sadly.

"Why?" Nerat Keeling couldn't help but ask this question.

His thoughts were still confused, and he still had no idea who he was talking to or where he was. However, he didn't care that much. To be honest, he didn't care that much.

The image of Alkas Far, groveling and groveling before Horus flashed before his eyes, and the friendly, overlooking smiles of the Luna Wolves flashed through his mind.

And their voices, the frivolous voices that carry the lingo of gangs - "Just do it, cousin, it's not difficult, mortals should die for us."

"Because you are not a complete bastard, and because your life is still useful to the Emperor and humanity."

The Zorosian put away his sad smile and answered the question with the indifference of the dead. And with this indifference, he started a speech.

No, not a speech, only Nerat Keeling would call it a speech. In fact, it is the last words of a deceased person.

"Let me tell you something, Captain Nerat Keeling. I'm afraid of death. All of us are afraid of death. We are recruited from our own hometowns, trained, take guns and go to other people's hometowns. Be the invaders. We fight for the Emperor, we fight for humanity, and we have been prepared for it since the beginning."

"But we are still afraid of death."

"Take me as an example. I think of blades, stray bullets, and bombings. These images related to death have crossed my mind countless times, making my legs tremble and my muscles tense before the war started. But when When it really came, I discovered what the fundamental fear in my heart was.”

"In the final analysis, the death I fear is a meaningless death. Am I brave? No. But I will not be afraid of death, if I can give my life for the Great Crusade, if I can keep my oath to serve as the Emperor If the emperor sheds his last drop of blood, then death is simply a compliment to me.”

Nerat Keeling raised his hand and covered his cheek.

"What, are you going to cry?" the deceased mocked. "For this finally revealed truth? Yes, accept the reality, Captain. What you did on Balatrum was not just to let us die. You let us die for nothing."

Yes, I know, yes. Nerat Kilin screamed inwardly, while the Zorosian continued.

"Do you think that the Zorosian Legion will be unwilling to sacrifice for victory? Or are you Astartes so proud that you believe that no other army in the galaxy can match your courage?"

"Let me make it clear to you, you are brave because you have no fucking need to be afraid. You can overturn a car with a wave of your hand, and you can easily tear through our defenses with a single charge."

"But we are different. We are mortals wearing carapace. We are a hundred things that may not be able to match one of you. But we are much braver than you, do you understand?"

Captain Shadow covered his face and nodded tremblingly. His answering voice leaked out from between his fingers. It sounded like an apology or a confession, almost a whimper. The Sorosians didn't care at all.

Now, he looked far taller than Nerat Keeling. He was a broken, frail dead man. He was only 1.76 meters tall, but he looked like a giant.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he cursed viciously. "What is this? Why can you look down on everyone like this?"

He began to pace in the darkness, his eyes blazing, his footsteps like the echo of gunfire. After a few minutes, he stopped, and Nerat Keeling looked at him expectantly, waiting for the verdict.

Then he spoke.

The voice was extremely solemn.

"I want you to remember this day, Captain Nerat Keeling. You remember that I had a legitimate reason for my revenge. I was raised from my sleep by Him, and I endured the pain that is endless for the dead. In front of you, I could have taken revenge on you directly, but I didn’t. Do you know the reason?”

Nerat Kilin put down his hand and looked at the Zorosian.

"Because you are still useful to the Emperor," the dead man said with a mixture of pity and disgust. "And I pity you. So take this life I give you and go away, Nerat Keeling, and never forget this day."

He took a step forward, and the wind suddenly rose, and thick thunder streaked through the darkness. The air suddenly became extremely cold, and a blizzard swept in, completely engulfing Nerat Keeling. Until the last moment before disappearing, he kept his eyes wide open, trying his best to capture the figure of the Zorosian.

In the darkness, the deceased closed his eyes in silence. A pale skeleton appeared in front of him, its cloak was pitch black, and the blue light in its eyes was surging like a tide.

"You chose forgiveness." Khalil said softly. "Your nobility astounds me, Sergeant."

"This is not noble, my lord." The Sorosian opened his eyes and shook his head, his body already wrapped in the dark red of the angry flames.

"I lied to him, I exercised my rights, I got my revenge on him. I'm going to make him think of my face every night for the rest of his life and what he did to us. He will be confessing He will live the rest of his life, and from now on, every enemy of humanity he kills will bear the wrath of the Sorosian Legion."

"Then leave," said Khalil. "You can continue to sleep."

"What about you, my lord?" the deceased asked at the last second before disappearing. "When I crossed the boundary between life and death, I could hear those calls. Countless dead people, even hateful aliens, were wrapped in them, looking forward to the arrival of revenge."

"You talk too much, Sergeant," Khalil replied gently. "War has a price, just as you paid your life. If the price I have to pay is just some insignificant humanity, then why not do it?"

The dead man no longer spoke, but disappeared silently.

This chapter is 6k, so I’ll get up after a nap and write the remaining 4k.