40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 439 165. Terra (thirty-three)

Constantin Waldo looked intently in the darkness for a possible path. He stared at the ground tightly while smelling the poisonous breath of chaos, never relaxing for a moment.

They were so far into the darkness that the demons seemed to have yet to truly discover the group, and the air here began to torment them before they came again.

It fits Waldo's imagination of subspace very well.

He calmly called the armor's processing system to analyze the pheromones in the air, and got the following concept.

toxin, error, unanalyzable, error, toxin.

Putting aside those repeated conclusions, Waldo knew in his heart that there was indeed a kind of toxin in the air. His armor might have had a small problem with its analysis and processing, but the blood-mist-like air could directly prove that Is its conclusion correct?

Waldo believes that the air is now the toxin itself.

They were digging deeper into his lungs with every breath, bringing a kind of needle-like pain. Interestingly, what lies behind this pain is a suddenly accelerated heart rate and a sharp increase in hormone levels in the body.

The Marshal of the Forbidden Army accurately captured the strangeness of his body and concluded that his strength and speed were enhanced in a way that did not belong to the subspace. The toxin in the air was a powerful one with no side effects. of stimulants.

Repeat: It does not bring any power from chaos, it comes from chaos, is born out of chaos, but it is more accurate.

And how is this possible?

He reported the matter to his master through the connection. Within the webway, the master of mankind used his eyes to see the whole picture and gave an order.

+Don't worry, keep doing what you have to do. +

He didn't explain, but Waldo didn't care.

He stopped and drew a circle in front of him with his spear. The golden light shines for a few seconds, briefly dispelling the darkness. A few corpses were exposed, and the alternating black and white armor brought an interesting coldness.

And the crest on their armor, the black, abstracted cross. Valdor's memory was unmistakable unless his lord was willing to change it. Therefore, he came to the conclusion that these marks belonged to veterans of the Imperial Fists.

At the same time, a sigh came from behind him. Waldo kept this incident in mind and asked aloud: "Why sigh, Captain Alessio Cortez?"

"It's nothing, Lord Valdo." Alessio replied awkwardly

He had a natural smoothness when pronouncing the word "Sir", and Waldo immediately reminded himself that Alessio might not be the same as the Astartes he knew.

The successor Captain, who had only served for only three years, respected the Custodes and not because of the Emperor's brief appearance.

He respects me. Waldo thought. Does he know who I am?

He turned his head and observed the young-faced warrior, but found no evidence to support this conjecture.

"Are they your friendly forces?" Waldo asked.

"They are blood brothers." Alessio replied solemnly. "They are among the most fervent and loyal warriors in the galaxy. If we were to choose a role model among us, they would be at the top."

Waldo nodded and strode over.

The ground was still covered with thick ashes. He knelt down and took out a handful, where he saw some melted ceramic particles. The pheromones in the air changed again, and a unique smell that remained after burning rushed into his nose.

He stood up and continued to approach the dead warriors.

Their white burqas were stained with dried blood. But if you look closely, you can find that all the dark parts of the armor have actually turned a dull blood red.

These warriors must have endured unimaginable brutality before dying, but Waldo must continue his work.

So, he reached out and took off the helmet of a corpse. It didn't refuse Waldo's behavior, and everyone saw a glaring face.

The teeth were clenched, the muscles in the cheeks were locked together stiffly, and there were long and narrow blood marks spreading from the eyes and nose to the chin.

"Do you know him?" Waldo asked.

Alessio was silent for a few seconds and gave a name: "Lazon Danuiton."

"Military rank?"

"I can't tell."

"Interesting." Waldo nodded. "So, where are these parchments?"

He reached out and gently picked up a long parchment roll hanging on the deceased's right shoulder armor. It looks very old, but miraculously it has not been stained by such a cruel war, and the writing can still be read.

"God Emperor?" Waldo asked, pointing to a word.

Alessio suddenly felt a little nervous for no reason, but the Forbidden Army did not ask any further questions. He just put the helmet back and buckled it tightly. Then they moved on.

From time to time, there will be some distorted sounds coming from the depths of the darkness. It is impossible to see anything here. Even after modification or using the night vision function of the eyepiece, it is impossible to see through this darkness.

No matter how long they walked, the ground seemed to be pale and thick with ashes, without any change except for their own footprints. Waldo led the way without saying a word, as if he knew exactly where the road was.

After a while, their perception of the center of gravity of the ground suddenly changed. Just one step, and everyone's perception became strange. They began to "walk up" instead of walking on the flat ground.

The distorted sounds began to become more and more obvious, and there were more and more corpses on the road. Some of them could still be identified, while others had weathered along with their armor. There were even two sets of Terminators. If it weren't for the tenacity of the adamantium, they probably wouldn't have been able to find this from the ashes.

The chaos of time was becoming more and more obvious. Valdor reported the matter again. During the connection, the Emperor's voice was still calm.

+You are going deep into a high tower. +The Lord of Mankind spoke slowly. +Maybe it shouldn't be called a tower, but it is indeed a spiral building. The spiral that represents entanglement is a very dangerous concept on Terra today. Fortunately, Alessio Cortes holds the sword in his hand, so you have permission+

+Is it his permission? +Valdor asked. +Is he still there, my lord? +

+Suffering. +The Emperor said. +Just like all of you. Let them bow their heads, Waldo, and you too. +

The Imperial Guards Marshal immediately spoke: "Bow your heads."

As soon as the words fell, a flash of lightning struck the darkness strangely. The raging flames burned fiercely, and the ashes that had been safely on the ground suddenly hung upside down and rose wildly to the sky.

There was a blood-colored light that easily tore through the darkness, and a huge shadow enveloped all of them. The whistling wind passed by his ears, mixed with the roar of the dead. Waldo remained quiet, lowered his head, and felt a gloomy and cold burning feeling.

He immediately realized that this was a gaze, and the owner of the gaze was observing him.

No, that's not right, this is not observation, He is just weighing his soul.

Five seconds later, the strange phenomenon just disappeared, and he had already understood something in his heart.

Waldo raised his head and saw a blood-red setting sun hanging high in the sky.

"It looks like we've arrived." He said.

What he said was true. At this moment, the scene before the Admirals and the 425 Astartes of the Crimson Fist was no longer darkness, but a blood-red desert.

The terrifying high temperature burned their armor, the servo system began to sound an alarm, and slight electric sparks emerged from the components. They raised their swords or guns, alerted the surroundings, and waited for the next order. But the Admirals did not take a step, just standing there in contemplation, the tip of the spear shining with the sacred glow that dispelled all impurities.

Alessio Cortes simply raised his head and looked at the sky. However, the sword in his hand suddenly hummed at this moment, sending a cold force into his heart.

Unlike Constantine Waldo, at this moment, the scene he saw in the sky was not a blood-red sunset, but a calm moon.

It was not fanatical, nor angry. In fact, on the contrary, it was cold with a dead silence, the kind of soft moonlight that would shine on the tombstone of the dead at rest

+Master, what should I do? +Valdor asked.

He was annoyed with his indecision. This series of requests was a shame, but the strangeness here was making his intuition warn him wildly. And if intuition was not enough, then the burning sensation from his injured right hand would prove something else.

He once swung the sword for his master, and that sword did hurt the so-called Blood God, and thus a certain connection was established between him and Him.

Unlike the sacred connection between him and the Emperor, Valdor could still sense some emotions.

It was like the blood-red desert in front of him. It seemed to be windless and quiet, but in fact, there was an undercurrent. The terrible rage was cruelly wriggling under the calm red sand. This was why Valdor was reluctant to take a step.

+Wait. +The Emperor said. +Just wait until night falls, just wait until the Astronomican burns. Our broken timelines are moving in tandem, and two things that happened at different times will soon end at the same point. +

+Astronomican? Thunder is there too. +

+Yes, Thunder is there too. +The Emperor said, his voice was calm and smiling, and the weakness from before could no longer be heard. However, Valdor also heard a kind of divinity that should not appear.

He frowned and wanted to ask, but the next sentence of the Lord of Mankind immediately reached his ears. The voice was a collection of multiple voices, a collection of old people, young people, women, and children, including the wisdom of the king and the madness of the madman.

+There are also the redresser Sol Tarvitz, the champion Sigismund, the lone wolf Bjorn, and the blind Azek Ahriman.+

The Lord of Mankind sighed deeply, and his voice returned to a single voice after this moment. And his voice actually rang in Valdor's ears, with warmth, sadness and pride, and it was definitely not the coldness unique to psychic energy.

"And my sons."

I will write as much as I can before twelve o'clock, and I won't stay up late.