40k: Midnight Blade

[You will soon know who I am, but now, Konrad Curz. Hold his hand. ]

[Who are you? Who is Konrad Curz? ]

[Do you want to save him? ]

[.I think so. ]

[Then hold his hand. ]

The light curtain dimmed, and the expressions of the noble imperial demigods beside the round table looked a little strange.

Take Sanguinius as an example, the face of the Baal angel was obviously confused, which was completely different from his usual smiling appearance. There is no doubt that he is thinking about something, so what is he thinking about?

Why not ask Horus Lupercal, would the gangster of Cosonia know what his closest brother is thinking now?

The answer is yes, of course he knows, but he has no time to care.

"Is that the voice of my father?" Horus slammed the table. No, he did not slam the table, he just stood up very quickly and sent his voice to the ears of everyone in the room.

Leman Russ sighed, lying on the table and waving lazily at him.

"Yes, yes, that is the voice of the father, Horus, sometimes I want to give you a nickname, you know?"

"What nickname?" Alpharius suddenly asked.

Russ smiled maliciously, his overly sharp canine teeth glittering.

"I'd better not say it, my dear brother. Your question is obviously to make me be troubled by this bald guy for a week."

Alpharius shrugged and patted his head. He was also laughing, but his smile was not very obvious. Rogal Dorn looked at them calmly, and then stood up.

"Yes, that is the voice of the father." The Invit said. "But I don't think this is what we need to worry about most at the moment, this-"

He looked down at the videotape, swallowed back the words he was about to say, and changed to a more polite address.

"——Narrator, sir, what it is doing is the most important. We should let it continue."

[Hey, how can you assume my gender? ]

". Madam?"

[Ha! ]

The light screen flickered, as if it was laughing, one after another, continuously. After a few seconds, the rapid flickering slowly stopped.

[No, just call me sir, although it doesn't matter at all. It's really interesting to deal with you. Look at you, I can't wait to know what your reaction will be when you see the back.]

"You seem to be looking forward to it?" Perturabo asked gloomily and coldly.

[Oh, don't get me wrong, it's just a little bit. This kind of thing is not common even for me, not to mention that this time I am personally there. Ha, anyway, the next one is the highlight, I respectfully advise you all, you'd better be prepared. ]

"What preparation?" Chagatai asked.

He narrowed his eyes, leaned forward slightly, and his sitting posture suddenly became quite threatening.

[What do you think, the great Khan who didn't have time to become the only eagle?]

Chagatai leaned back in his chair and stopped talking.

He was not the first person whose expression changed. All the people present were Primarchs. Even if some of them had personality defects, their intelligence level was still far beyond that of ordinary people. They certainly heard the implication of the videotape, but was it really possible?

Horus sat back in his chair and gave up thinking. He didn't want to follow that sentence to imagine. What was revealed behind it seemed a little beyond his cognition even for him.

[Very good, it seems that the great, extraordinary, noble, invincible and outstanding Primarchs have no objection]

The light screen immediately vibrated, as if it couldn't wait, and quickly projected the next scene. Conrad Curze squatted on his chair, looking at the picture expressionlessly, his hands still dripping with blood.

In terms of the Primarch's recovery ability, he should have recovered long ago.

[No, Caryl Rohals, nameless ghost, this is not death. 】

The light curtain flickered, and a huge thunderous sound instantly resounded throughout the room, and the white light illuminated everyone's face. Colvus Corax turned his head expressionlessly and looked at the only person with weak light among them, but found that the man's dark eyes were staring at the light curtain without reservation.

He wanted to say something, but Horus's voice overwhelmed everything at this moment.

"Father?!"

The Cosonia shouted this sentence, and stood up again in shock, looking at the man wearing a laurel crown and golden armor on the light curtain, with a face full of helplessness.

Leman Russ inevitably scratched his side face with his hand, muttered and asked: "How many times have you shouted this today, brother?"

Almost no one paid attention to him, only Alpharius snickered and gestured a number to him. Their communication was not paid attention to by anyone, and most people stared at the light curtain closely, wondering what would happen next.

【Are you Caril Rohals? No, you are not. Caryl Rohals has long been dead. He knocked on the gate of hell at the last moment of his life, and you, the ghost, came from behind the gate as promised. 】

【Or, let's put it another way. This is the earth, the junction of the Eurasian continent at a certain time before Christ. The movement of the land mass has not yet made this place disappear. Those people are preparing dinner. They have just finished a whole day's work. 】

[My son—you call him Ghost, I call him Conrad Curze. 】

【.He is one of my visions for the future of mankind. 】

[I want to thank you, Ghost, for protecting him and saving him from a rough and astray path. But I didn’t save you because of his wish. So, are you going to accept it? 】

【Accept what? 】

[Becoming Khalil Lohars. 】

【I accept. 】

The picture zoomed in, quickly and directly, and it was fixed on that pale face.

[I still owe him a knife. 】

The light curtain went out and no more images appeared. There was no text, and the video tape suddenly became silent, making one wonder if there was something wrong with it.

The originals had no time to care about why this chattering so-called story telling machine became silent at this moment. They all had their own thoughts going on in their minds. However, there were always some people who would become those exceptions.

Like Conrad Coates.

After waiting for a full ten minutes, he rushed up to the round table in three steps and two steps at a time, kicked up the video tape, and then rushed down the long table without losing any momentum. He pressed it against the stone wall viciously and pressed his sharp nails on the dark surface of the video tape.

The Nostramo looked back at the screen of light, then moved his profile closer to the video tape and whispered menacingly.

"Where's the back?" he asked. "You'd better tell the truth, you endless hateful machine, otherwise I will definitely tear you apart."

【Tear it down. 】

"I'm not kidding you!" Curze growled. "Ten minutes have passed! Tell me what happened next! I want to know whether this idiot is dead or alive, and whether their ridiculous ideals have drowned them!"

[Don’t worry, radio programs need time to insert advertisements, not to mention that what you are watching is a story from a parallel universe]

Magnus suddenly raised his arms and shouted, raising his fists excitedly.

"You damn thing!" Curze ignored his brother. He laughed in anger, raised his right hand high, and was about to throw the videotape to the ground.

At the critical moment, a slender left hand as white as jade stopped him.

Fulgrim took his wrist sternly and asked, "What do you want, Konrad?"

"I'm going to smash this crap!"

"I don't think you can do this." Ferrus Manus said calmly, still sitting in his seat.

His words attracted a lot of attention, and Curze was one of them. The Nostramo turned his head suddenly like a wild beast and stared at him coldly, his eyes full of threats.

Ferus narrowed his eyes and began to beat his left arm rhythmically with his right hand. The sound of metal collision could be heard endlessly. However, this confrontation did not last long. Fulgrim stretched out his right hand and pulled Curze's head back without any refusal.

He got a wild growl.

"What? Are you going to bite me, Konrad?" Fulgrim asked nonchalantly, then snatched the videotape from Curze's hand and even raised it to him very calmly.

"You can give it a try," he said. "I promise you I will bite you back. This is how I treated machines that didn't listen to me when I was a worker."

"Then do you know how I treat those criminals who don't listen to me?" Cozz asked with a sneer, taking out his right hand and hiding both hands in the long sleeves of the wide black robe.

"I'm not interested in knowing," Fulgrim said.

He turned around, took the video tape and walked back to the round table. Konrad Koz hunched his back, his hands had already reached out of his long sleeves, and his sharp and somewhat abrupt nails sparkled in the air.

He moved his fingers and followed Fulgrim silently. The Chemos man reached out his hand nonchalantly and threw the videotape back to the center of the round table. As for Coz.

He quietly returned to his seat.

Ruth grinned at him.

"Shut up, you stinking wolf," the Nostramo said without looking up.

"You too, shut up, you little idiot who is trying your best to pretend not to care."

Ruth burst out laughing. There was no trace of anger on that young and wild face, but it was full of joy. His words made Curze raise his head, and began to peek gloomily at Russ from behind the cage made of broken hair.

"What?" The Fenrisian chuckled and spread his hands, shrugging nonchalantly. "Do you think there is anything wrong with what I said?"

"I'm going to slit your throat and let you see your windpipe."

"And before that happens I will break every one of your fingers and stick them in your mouth."

"I will let you gradually suffocate in your own blood and beg me for relief, but I will not lend a helping hand to you, wolf." Conrad Coze put away his hands coldly, slowly The ground shook his head. "I'll show you what pain is."

"Anyone can talk harshly, little brother." Russ laughed again, and these were the last words he said. At Sanguinius's disapproving look, the Fenrisian wisely kept his mouth shut.

The light curtain flickered just right.

[The debate between you is quite interesting. 】

"Please continue playing, Mr. Narrator," Roger Dorn said. "We all have our own things to do today, and we can't completely waste our time watching a movie like this."

【how? Don't you think this story is worth wasting a whole day on? 】

"I don't have time to waste on anything," Dawn replied calmly. "I need to continue to learn military theoretical knowledge. My teacher Olanez is a grumpy middle-aged man. He will not like me being late."

[I suggest you beat him up. 】

"."

Donne was silent. Even he didn't know how to answer this sentence. And if anyone asked, Perturabo would say that he enjoyed Rogal Dorn's speechless silence.

However, he is more concerned about another thing now - this so-called narrative machine has been communicating with them since the light curtain lit up, regardless of how much disrespect there is and how much obvious ridicule it contains.

One thing is very worthy of affirmation.

This narrative machine is self-aware.

None of its actions can be explained clearly by the so-called programming. Every reaction and every word it says is filled with an understatement of cynicism. Perturabo hated this attitude, but he wanted to know what this so-called narrative machine was.

So he asked bluntly.

"What on earth are you?" asked the Olympian.

He slowly stood up and drew the ceremonial sword from his waist. It was gleaming and sharp - yes, it was indeed a ceremonial sword, at least to Perturabo.

He raised his sword and pointed it at the black videotape.

"Explain, or I will destroy you."

[I have no interest in talking to you, Perturabo. As your brother Roger Dorn said, his time is valuable. In fact, everyone’s time is very precious, and I don’t want to waste your common time]

"So, you want to continue playing?" Ruth asked with a smile. "I mean, what about the second half of the story? The narrative machine? Did the man named Khalil come back to life, and what did our father do to him?"

The light curtain flashed, and the screen lit up again, and it was fixed on a face shining in the darkness, a pale face covered with blood.

Khalil Lohars' face.

But the problem is not here, the problem is the giant opposite him, a giant with bruises all over his body, steel braids hanging down the back of his head, and a face twisted like a ghost.

"What's going on?" the Primarch from Nuceria asked in confusion.

The answer he got was a roar from Conrad Coates.