40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 539 57.Primal Fear (1, 7k)

Cato Sicarius fell into a sudden silence, not for anything else but for the bloody massacre that suddenly appeared in front of him.

He saw two corpses lying on the wall near the porthole outside the door of his room. Judging from the uniforms, both of them were crew members, and blood flowed from their orifices. Other than that, there were no external injuries on their bodies, and even their uniforms were clean and tidy.

Sicarius stood still, staring into their swollen, dead eyes for a while before looking away to look at the other corpses.

There were four people lying closest to him, two men and two women. Their bodies had no external injuries, but their expressions were quite ferocious. Judging from their uniforms, they should be maintenance workers responsible for the maintenance of various decks.

One of the women held a tool hammer in her hand. The towel that should have been tied to her belt was wrapped around the handle of the hammer for some reason, and then she tied it around her wrist to make a simple hand strap. .

This can prevent the weapon from falling off during combat, which is a quite simple combat strategy and very useful. Sicarius recorded this detail in his mind, took steps amidst the strong smell of blood, and left the door of the room.

After walking eleven steps to the right, he found eight more corpses. Compared to the others, their deaths were much more miserable.

Sicarius looked at the broken limbs here and calmly observed the details.

He has only served in the army for three years, but he has already risen from a scout to a real Astartes with his outstanding strength. This is not unrelated to the rigorous training he endured in his hometown of Thalassar. Of course, it is also related to his character. There is a certain relationship.

No matter the training, no matter the difficulties, Sicarius always strived to do his best - and that included the challenges he faced during his career as a Scout, and he overcame them all with flying colors. The blood and sweat did not fail him.

Sicarius knew that the dead did not speak, but the corpses did. He quickly concluded from his observations: the edges of the corpses were very flat, which meant they were cut off with one blow, and he found no trace of the decomposition force field.

In other words, the killer did not use a power weapon or a chainsaw weapon. Generally speaking, even if a normal and strong adult male has been training in swordsmanship for many years, it is impossible for him to be able to cut an enemy in two with a sword.

Then, the murderer is either extremely strong or not an ordinary person, and must be armed with a weapon.

Astartes?

Sicarius frowned at his suspicion.

He looked back at the door of his room, feeling slightly worried.

He was supposed to receive his own set of improved MK7 power armor today. The mechanical priests on Macragge's Glory had put them on display early in the morning.

By borrowing from the MK4 Extreme Power Armor variant 'Judge' type, the improved Skyhawk type has stronger defensive performance without becoming bulky. Moreover, they are a new batch of manufacturing.

They have no inherited honor, and this is exactly what Sicarius wants. He does not want to inherit the armor of his ancestors and heroes. He just wants to obtain a share of glory with his own hands.

Therefore, he entered meditation early last night just to rush to the company station in advance today so that he could participate in the armor conferring ceremony as soon as possible.

Moreover, just the day before yesterday, Robert Guilliman informed everyone through the ship's broadcast that the Glory of Macragge was heading towards Calth. Sicarius keenly smelled the scent of the honor he longed for, and was excited about it.

Coupled with the armor conferment ceremony, he has silently linked these two things together, and regards getting a set of power armor of his own as the first step in gaining honor.

But he didn't expect that after finishing his meditation, he stepped out of the door and encountered such a heinous murder.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Cato Sicarius solemnly clenched the fighting knife at his waist.

He has been with this knife for six years. It was with him before he joined the army, when it was still a big knife to him. It's a blood-drinking weapon, sharp and reliable, with a simple design that delivers smooth kills.

He pulled out his knife and walked towards the end of the corridor holding the only weapon he had. There was no trace of blood on the closed door. Sicarius approached it and began to verify the iris and voiceprint.

"Fearless," he said.

The door made a low and short notification sound, and the red light on the door frame turned green. The two closed pieces of steel were slowly opened under the operation of the machine, but what happened next made Sicarius's heart sink to the bottom. .

He didn't see half a living person, but instead saw more blood and more corpses.

The death that comes from nowhere quietly touches the crew and workers. They may have just finished the night shift and are rushing back to their dormitories to rest, or they may have just gotten up and plan to go to the canteen for a meal.

But now, they were just a pile of wet corpses lying under the light. Unlike the eight fragmented corpses, everyone in this corridor maintained their appearance in life. Blood gushes out from the seven orifices strangely, taking away their lives.

chaos? demon?

The young scout took a deep breath and stepped into the corridor.

He held the fighting knife behind his back, leaned against the corridor with the porthole, stepped over the corpse cautiously, and began to walk slowly.

There are still four decks and twenty-one corridors away from his destination. In the past, this was not a difficult task. Sicarius could arrive in just a few minutes, but now

He gritted his teeth.

Such a terrifying scene

What about his brothers? Where did the Ultramarines go? Even if they happened not to be carrying out their usual activities on the various decks today, what about the Ultramar auxiliaries? Where did those brave guards go?

Until now, Sicarius had not seen a single figure of a soldier, nor had he heard a single gunshot. Everything was extremely silent, and even the usual battle report broadcasts had stopped.

Macragge's Glory seemed to be a dead ship, with only Cato Sicarius left aboard.

This thought slowly stopped him. Just now, within a second after the thought was born, a new idea was born in Sicarius's mind.

He had reached the end of this corridor. The bodies of all the victims were still intact, except for the eight bodies that turned eleven steps to the right when he went out of his room. They were in pieces.

Does this mean that the murderer went in the completely opposite direction?

The noble descendant of Thalasa tightened his young cheeks and suddenly looked back in the direction he came from. There, the automatic doors were tightly closed, waiting to be opened.

It took him two minutes to quietly walk back and verify his iris and voiceprint again. The door opened, the familiar corpse came back to his eyes, and the door to his single dormitory was closed.

In recent years, the number of Ultramarines has been increasing, so some unoccupied rooms have been requisitioned by the Chapter, preparing to temporarily use them for those battle brothers who have no place to live, and then recall them when the station is expanded in the future.

Sicarius was one of the lucky ones - and he himself considered himself lucky until now.

Now, he wished he were with his brothers now, instead of alone and confused, unable to hear the sirens and muster calls, and not seeing a living person.

Sicarius gripped the knife and walked towards the end of the corridor. But this time, under the gaze of the corpse, he did not use iris and voiceprint verification to unlock the door, but instead adopted manual input mode.

A long series of secret keys were entered quickly with one hand, and the door was quickly verified. Mechanical gears and other things began to buzz in the wall, but Sicarius clung to the edge of the wall without any need. It means stepping into the world behind the door.

He didn't even observe, he just held the fighting knife, held his breath, and carefully listened to the movement on the other end.

As expected, he heard the sound of some soft chewing.

The door waited for a few seconds, and then began to close when no one stepped inside. Stuck at the last second, Sicarius quietly poked his head out and glanced at the corridor, but this glance made him a little dazed.

He saw a tall giant squatting among the corpses and feasting. This man had his back to him and was not wearing any clothes. The muscles on the back are extremely strong, and the arrangement and distribution of each piece have a transcendent beauty.

He seemed to hear the sound of the door closing. His hands were covered with blood, holding the minced meat. He quickly turned his head. Under the short golden hair, Sicarius saw a face that made his heart stop.

The door closed and the Scout trembled and fell to the ground.

The Emperor, Terra, and the Throne—!

That person, that person - how could he do this? !

Sicarius' mind was in confusion, but the door was suddenly knocked by something at this moment. The synthetic metal, harder than ceramite, showed signs of distortion, and then more.

Someone is knocking on the door continuously, and his power is so strong that it can even make the door wail.

Sicarius should have reacted at this time, but he was too shocked. At this moment, he forgot the purpose of coming here, his previous anger and worries, and even forgot that he was still alive. .

His mind could only hold one thought, or rather one picture.

That face.

"boom!"

The door twisted, revealing a hole. A hand reached out, tore off half of the door and threw it behind. Sicarius instinctively looked up and saw that face again.

Robert Guilliman's face.

Correction: Robert Guilliman's blood-stained face, his lips trembled, his teeth were exposed, and the flesh that had not yet been swallowed was stuck between the teeth. Young, flawless, innocent, yet harboring some deep malice that Sicarius still cannot understand.

It was like a kind of greed, or a desire, Sicarius had an idea again, like an instinctive leap, lightning struck.

He wants to eat me.

'Robert Guilliman' rushed towards Sicarius, and it took less than half a second to grab his left hand and pull him up from the ground. The force was so strong that Sicarius could faintly hear him. He heard the sound of his own bones shifting.

His nails as sharp as razors and as thick and long as daggers also penetrated deeply into Sicarius's flesh in the process. In pain, Scout's ability to think began to return rapidly.

He looked at Robert Guilliman again, and this time, filled with shock, fear, and subtle but genuine anger, he keenly noticed something different.

His original face had a vicissitudes of life, with a head full of white hair, but this man was too young, and his blond hair even looked sparse, like a baby that had just been born for half a month and whose hair had just begun to grow.

And the look on his face, Robert Guilliman would never have looked so evil, nor would he have had that terrible desire.

Of course, there is the most important point.

Robert Guilliman was the Emperor's loyal thirteenth son, Primarch of the Ultramarines, and genetic father of Cato Sicarius. He would never kill and devour those he was sworn to protect.

The Scout roared and swung his fighting knife. It sliced ​​the creature's right hand with precision, severing it from the wrist. The force exerted on Sicarius disappeared, and he fell to the ground, and immediately stood up with a roll.

His two hearts were pounding, and adrenaline was being secreted at an unprecedented speed.

There was still some fear in his heart, and he would not speak out about this fear, but, for the emperor's sake, he was really afraid of it to death. He even dared not face the thing directly, and wished he could turn around and run away immediately.

But he didn't. Maybe it’s because of that slogan – fearless.

Sicarius raised his head resolutely, looked at the creature, and saw the exact opposite of his fears.

He saw the thing kneeling on the ground, holding its severed right hand, and stuffing it into its mouth haphazardly, not caring that those terrible nails would turn its own mouth into a bloody mess.

There was pain on his face, but there was also a curiosity about discovering something new. He opened his mouth wide and began to chew his own flesh, and the pain and curiosity quickly turned into greed.

The thing lowered its head to look at its right wrist, and without any hesitation, it stuffed its hand into its mouth and started chewing it.

Cato Sicarius suddenly felt the urge to vomit.

Then, there is anger.

He almost went crazy because of this. He had never been so angry before and didn't even know that he could be so crazy. Until now, until he had witnessed this monster taking on the form of his Primarch and committing such depravity and blasphemy.

He howled and lunged forward, thrusting his fighting knife into the thing's chest. It did not resist, but fell to the ground, chewing its own limbs and turning a blind eye to the injuries on its chest.

Sicarius's anger became even more intense. He held the knife with both hands and disemboweled the giant, who was much taller than him. The steaming internal organs gushed out of his belly, and blood spurted out.

Sicarius pulled out the knife without hesitation, and then began to swing it continuously. He kept waving until his hands became stiff, his fingers trembled, and his clothes were completely soaked with blood before he stopped.

By this time, that thing had already lost its life. Its blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, its mouth was filled with flesh and blood, and its body was covered with stab wounds.

Sicarius sat trembling on the ground, gulping air and bleeding but not crying.

He felt like he was going crazy—or already.

——

Roboute Guilliman felt like he was going crazy—or already.

He stood in a hall. Under his feet were broken bones, stained with blood, which turned into a pink color similar to petals under the influence of light. Of course, there are other things. Such as internal organs, limbs, teeth, half body

Countless human remains are piled up here, which is disgusting, and the traces left on them are enough to drive people crazy.

The marks were gnaw marks, bite marks left by something far larger than human size. Judging from the marks, its teeth are very flat and its bite force is also strong.

It once stayed in the hall used for the public to listen to the Ultramar news briefing for the day, and then killed everyone.

Or eat it all.

There is no difference. There is no sequence between these two things. They are most likely to be done at the same time.

So, what kind of monster is this thing, this thing that dares to cause trouble on Macragge's Glory? Is it a devil? Or some type of alien, or their old rival, the Zerg?

The answer is not any of these options, the answer is a name that should be excluded, a name that shines, is trusted and is regarded as a hero.

Robert Guilliman.

He looked down at his feet, where he faced a puddle of steaming minced meat.

Half a minute ago, this scrap of meat belonged to a monster wearing the face of his youth. The monster used his face to chew his people alive into scattered skeletons.

Guilliman killed it, but it did no good; those it had eaten could not come back. The more important thing is that there is more than one thing like it.

Once upon a time, there was only one Roboute Guilliman, but now it is different. Now, according to numerous eyewitness reports, there are many things with his face roaming the Flare of Macragge, committing evil deeds that he could never even imagine.

but why? Why does this happen?

To get the answer, you must use one of Guilliman's principles. He believes that everything can be traced back to its origin based on clues. It has been verified many times over the past 10,000 years.

This time, too, it played its part.

Robert Guilliman's memory began to go back, all the way to eighty-two hours ago.

That was three and a half days ago. He had a conversation with Khalil Lohars who suddenly returned through the Star Grammar in his study. During this conversation, the instructor he trusted asked him and some of his discoveries on Calth.

So, just two hours later, Guilliman issued an order. As a result of this order, many messages were passed to his office, and in the end, it formed a list.

There were six people on the list, all of whom died in an interrogation room on the Macragge's Glory, killed by Guilliman himself. Until his death, they did not answer his questions.

Twelve hours later, Guilliman announced to the ship that they would sail for Calth and now.

Guilliman closed his eyes, took a deep breath, slowed down his thoughts, and began to search for more things in his memory that could help him find the truth.

He smelled the scent of human blood, but the voice of Corvus Corax suddenly sounded in his ears.

Of course, the solemn crow does not really exist here. He is just an illusion, a shadow created by Guilliman using his own thinking ability to help him.

"You were negligent." Corax, clad in jet black robes, said mercilessly.

"Things related to Erebas have never been simple. He even had the ability to send people to your ship to spread this religion, but you just ordered the believers to be detained and executed, and these so-called popes were Bring inquiries?”

"Yes, I know that you have found their identity report. It states when they boarded the ship and a brief biography of them. Everything is detailed. Every major event has been firmly recorded by your officials. But you have Have you never thought that the most reliable thing and the most unreliable thing in the world are actually the human heart? "

Guilliman replied in a low voice: "I don't believe they can penetrate this far under my eyes. My eyes can now see the slightest chaos pollution, and I have never failed in thousands of years."

“Moreover, after the incident, during the voyage, I called everyone involved, and I examined each of them in the meeting hall. They had no problem. This is what I saw with my own eyes. "

Corax shook his head.

"Then, Robert, your eyes deceive you."

Guilliman closed his eyes tightly, staring at his brother in fantasy, waiting for his next words.

"You can see the pollution of Chaos because it is malicious, and it has been so since ancient times. The creatures in the Supreme Sky may not all be malicious towards humans, but Chaos must be."

"You're stuck in a mindset where you think Chaos will continue to do things the same way they did in ten thousand years. And I ask you, Robert, what if those people didn't come into contact with Chaos?"

"What if they really believed in you wholeheartedly and were deceived into believing that what they were doing would help you?"

"How can you detect the so-called malice that doesn't exist in someone when they trust you wholeheartedly?"

Guilliman remained silent and did not answer.

"I'm using hindsight to torture you." The Lord of Crows said calmly. "And that's exactly what you need, isn't it, Robert?"

"Yes," the Lord of Macragge said hoarsely.

"Then, you should now understand what you should do best. Once again, you are wrapped in regret, this feeling of powerlessness and the feeling when you witnessed Calth bleeding, Macragge destroyed, Terra broken, and your father died. Is the scene exactly the same?"

"Yes."

"Are you in pain?"

"Yes, I'm in pain."

"But you must not suffer," said Corax. "Regret is useless, pain is useless, mark my words. Those who are powerless can only resent themselves. If you want to reverse the situation, you need to do more than this."

His figure began to dissipate until it became nothingness, and then another person walked out of Guilliman's memory, an old woman wrapped in a wool blanket for warmth.

Her hair is gray and her face is wrinkled. Her back, which used to be straight, is now bent. She looked at Robert Guilliman. There was no kindness on his face, only seriousness.

She didn't say anything, but she seemed to have said everything.

Guilliman looked at her, slowly opened his eyes in the real world, and saw two fully armed eagle-faced warriors.

They are the victorious, a position that has been very different from the time of the Legion, but they still serve as Robert Guilliman's personal guard.

"grown ups."

"What's the matter, Odalos?" Guilliman asked in a calm tone.

"There is news from the chapter leader——" The ever-victorious army known as Odalos paused before speaking the second half of the sentence. "—more than half of our engines have failed."

Guilliman nodded slightly, indicating that he already knew, so Odalos continued to speak.

"The Chapter Master also discovered that we have lost contact with many decks. Someone has activated the emergency measures you designed to separate the decks. We can no longer directly explore the situation inside, Saul Ying First Captain Victus has moved forward, intending to restore our control over them."

"Very well," said Guilliman. Other than that, he didn't say a word. He turned around with the Chicheng dagger in hand and walked toward the exit of the hall. The furnace in his chest was boiling and roaring, cooking pain.

Everything he had experienced was transforming, a mixture of regret and pain, then self-loathing and insane rage. In the beating of the forge, they merged into one, becoming something new, something that had never been seen in the world before.

Feeling it, Guilliman calmly walked back to his office along the corridor filled with corpses.

The cries of civilians lingered in his ears, and some people looked at him differently. They were the lucky ones who had experienced the monster attack and survived, but something in their hearts had been changed.

He knew that if he didn't deal with it, sooner or later, this kind of thing would turn into hatred.

He stood still and sheathed his sword. There was a bloody aura lingering on his armor, which was completely inconsistent with the antique atmosphere of the office. This place is still the same as it was ten thousand years ago, with the statues of the Emperor and King Connaught still standing above the bookcase, one with his eyes closed and the other with his eyes open.

Robert Guilliman stared at them, making his final decision.

He picked up his helmet from the belt on his waist, put it on, and entered the communication channel within Macragge's Glory.

"This is Robert Guilliman, speaking directly to the crew."

"The things you see are not me, they are nothing, just another conspiracy created by Chaos. It is trying to confuse you with my appearance, make you fear me, and make me a monster."

"But I am nothing inhuman. I am the Emperor's loyal Thirteenth Son. I have sworn to be a loyal servant of mankind. This oath cannot be broken. I am your shield, your sword, and I will I will always stand in front of you until death."

"Now, I speak to the Ultramarines."

"I authorize the use of lethal fire."

He finished his speech and calmly took off his helmet. At this moment, the light of the astral array lit up under his feet.