40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 566 84. Dark Crusade (Fourteen, Silver Skull Chapter Commander)

Sousa's space station Aegida welcomed a special guest today. He was very tall and sparkling like a silver statue, with eyes as bright as melting emerald stones.

There is no doubt that he is not any kind of human in this galaxy, not even a subspecies. No matter which angle you looked at it, the shape of his skull was far from the Empire's censorship standards.

Furthermore, he did not arrive at Ajda through normal means. This defense facility, which was established as an outpost during the Great Crusade, has been updated with equipment many times, but it still failed to defeat this tall silver The skeleton noticed something as he climbed onto it.

Instruments, alarms, and all pre-programmed programs failed, and neither it nor those on it knew anything about it.

And Trazin was very pleased with it.

He's here for something, and it could be something small or something big, depending on what happens here in the next few hours.

If the skills of his good friend Orikan had not deteriorated, then in about twenty minutes, Trazin would be able to define this matter.

Good things, bad things, big things, small things. No matter what, the matter itself must have a conclusion.

Just like the definition he gave to the human race: small, stupid, naive, brave, intelligent - and most importantly, extreme luck and misfortune.

In a galaxy where the so-called gods can easily reach into the material world, they can actually have two gods.

Trazin felt the urge to laugh every time she thought about it, just like now. It took a lot of effort to get rid of this weird sense of humor that didn't belong to him.

Trazin walked with the same expression - that was another joke - with a mysterious light shining on his hard metal joints, and he was ready for what was about to happen next.

Traveling without servants, spending time transforming a clone, and most importantly: asking his friend Orican many times to confirm the authenticity of this matter.

It took him six centuries to fulfill this last condition.

He has no choice. His best friend is a very stubborn, very stupid and very annoying bastard, but such a bastard has otherworldly attainments in astrology.

In order to get his help, Trazin even had to ask several ancient overlords for help. They didn't give him a good look. It must have been because he was disturbed from his sleep, but Trazin couldn't care about that much.

From the moment Orikan revealed the news to him, Trazin was determined to find out the authenticity of this matter.

For it, he could spend two centuries courting Orican, another two centuries threatening Orican, and then spend the last two centuries chasing Orican across the galaxy.

Eventually, he succeeded.

The astrologer, who was almost going crazy, revealed all the details of the matter, no longer hiding it, and then growled with boredom at him to get out.

Trazin did as he was told with great respect and gratitude, leaving the customary gift for his friend before leaving the secret tomb.

Of course, this is no longer what he needs to care about now. Whether Orikan is alive or dead has nothing to do with him.

Now, the great Endless One, the overlord of the Solemus Dynasty, and the owner of the Prism Gallery, the famous archaeologist Trazin is about to complete the most important archaeological investigation of his life.

Of course, it might not be archeology. After all, only taking things from the hands of dead people is called archeology. So, let’s call this operation an investigation for the time being.

He walked intently into the darkness, then this corner, that corner and the next. The map of the space station marked out on the visual sensor unit showed everything he needed, along with some flashing red dots.

Well, actually, not a few, but a lot.

They almost occupied the entire space station and were fighting with other white light spots. In addition, there is a black light spot approaching slowly outside the space station. Its approximate speed and arrival time are marked next to it.

Trazin glanced at the numbers, then counted them fifty times again, just to be safe.

Finally, he concluded: fifteen minutes.

Ouch, what a coincidence. Trazin thought.

He is not a superstitious person, but the set of disciplines designed by the foresighted Mortarion is not very superstitious either.

Numerology may sound unreliable, but it reveals some of the truths hidden in this dark galaxy in a subtle way beyond imagination.

It would be great if I had the chance to meet him, I think I could learn more. Trazin thought rather regretfully.

But this regret soon went away, because one of his memory storage units that had just surfaced due to triggering the keyword told him that if Mortarion really saw him, he would most likely chase him and fight him.

why is that? The Endless asked himself doubtfully, and then got another floating memory storage unit: Because you took away one of his sons.

one?

The third floating memory storage unit said: No, it's a team.

Trazin immediately took a breath of cold air: Oh, I am the best, I am really capable.

He stopped in silence, and magically took out a pipe from behind the metal skeleton body. It was very long, but also very simple.

This is a rare collection he took from his gallery, dating back to the Necrontyr era. If Trazin could still smoke, he would probably keep it and use it with those precious reappearances.

But he no longer deserves a pipe, he is not qualified. Therefore, he brought it here with the intention of giving it away as a gift later.

He walked out of the darkness into a bright corridor. Many observation windows separated by metal reflected the scene outside the window on the silver wall on the right. Trazin turned a blind eye to the twinkling stars and just walked forward.

His specially enhanced auditory sensing unit had captured certain sounds coming from behind a heavy metal door at the end of the corridor. Trazin listened intently for a while as he walked.

He heard roars, screams, curses, and the sounds of various human weapons.

He suddenly became interested in this, and while rewriting the coding protocol of the door, he secretly decided that he could write a survey on the galactic race after returning, and the entry point could be sound for the time being.

What a novel angle to start with. The roars of the orcs, the cries of the humans, the muffled sounds of the Eldar, and the voices of the noseless blue men.

Uh, what are they called?

Trazin could not continue thinking because he had already reached the door. It opened spontaneously immediately, and instead of turning away Trazin because he was an officially recognized alien by humans, it welcomed him in with a bit of excessive enthusiasm.

Its set of rotating gears creaked in the wall, and Trazin felt a rare desire for destruction. He didn't waste it, turning it around and using it on a group of Astartes.

These giants, clad in grim ceramite, are slaughtering their own kind, and even laughing about it, appearing to take great pleasure in doing so. Some people went a step further and started torturing them on the spot, skinning and cutting their faces, and removing their bones and flesh. It was extremely cruel.

Moreover, it is unnecessarily cruel, because their torture essentially only arouses greater anger in the enemy.

Trazin shook his head, coughed, and spoke in the loudest voice his body could muster.

"I said, everyone, stop it."

His voice echoed in the battlefield like a supernova explosion, strangely pausing the battlefield filled with bloody murders. At this moment, everyone looked towards him.

And that's exactly what Trazin wanted.

"Thank you, thank you," he said very politely, and was met with a flurry of fire.

Whether it was the Astartes who called themselves the Emperor's Scythe or these strange creatures that appeared from nowhere, they all fired at him in unison.

The tinkling sound continued, and Trazin sighed, backed away from the shock of the bomb, and then mobilized the sound unit again.

"I know that my arrival is very presumptuous, you warriors who hate aliens, but I come here with friendly intentions - and, with all due respect, your weapons are useless to me."

"Alien scum!"

An Emperor's Scythe roared towards him, and the poorly designed plasma pistol in his hand made a low buzz and fired a stream of blue heat. Dangerous, precise, and deadly.

Trazin turned it into a stream of raw energy with a wave of his hand.

Then, he raised his left hand and used the simple area block manipulation protocol installed in his fingers to freeze the warrior in place. A flash of white light flashed, and his running posture and face full of murderous intent immediately became very interesting.

Trazin estimated that if he continued like this, it would take him about four hundred human standard years to get from his current location to Trazin's current location.

If this battle were to end here and Trazin were to leave now, he would probably come back to find this warrior in four hundred years and talk to him about the past.

But he has no such leisure now.

The Infinite stretched out his left hand and summoned his Staff of Empathic Annihilation in the form of molecular reorganization through the Summoning Protocol.

This scepter can kill a being while erasing the creatures around him who have the same idea as him. Of course, using it in this situation is not the best choice.

Trazin was self-aware. He knew that the two parties currently fighting probably wanted to kill him first and then each other.

Oh, so stupid.

"First of all, the term alien scum is inappropriate. At least in my opinion, it is inappropriate to use it on me."

Trazin said politely, he was so elegant, but the sound blasted out very violently. Through precise calculation and simple vibration, this sentence became the killing of a dozen giants wearing gloomy ceramic steel on the spot. .

Trazin originally wanted to continue talking, but found that several more Emperor's Scythes were rushing towards him. So he immediately lifted the area block manipulation protocol, freeing the man who shot him from the chaos of the time flow.

The Endless raised his scepter and politely used it to block an incoming sword light, and then knocked the attacker to the ground with his backhand. He held back his strength and was very careful, but his enemies didn't appreciate it and they immediately surrounded him.

Trazin said in a normal voice: "I have no intention of being an enemy of you, can't you see that?"

He got some other curses, and attacks.

Trazin flicked the middle finger of his right hand, a blue light flashed, and several tough tentacles spurted out from the tip of his finger, tying up the warriors tightly, making them unable to move, and the weapons in their hands also Dropped to the ground.

The Endless One finally couldn't help but sigh.

"Why are you always like this? Although humans are short-lived species, they should not be so impatient, not to mention that you are not Robert Guilliman's sons? You should be calm and rational, abide by discipline, and unite everything. "

"We have nothing to say to an abominable alien like you!" roared an Emperor's Scythe bound by him.

"Okay, really? What about this?" Trazin asked.

He deliberately lengthened the last word of this sentence. This violent sound turned into a source of terror that could destroy everything. It hit those gloomy Astartes and knocked them to the ground in pain. Unbearable, lost the ability to move.

While continuing to control the battlefield, Trazin turned his head and his hips danced gracefully in the center of the battlefield like a dancer. He rarely does this and doesn't like dancing, but he must now pursue efficiency.

Half a minute later, under his deliberate control, all the giants in the area wearing gloomy armor fell to their knees. Some are dead, others are seriously injured.

The Emperor's Scythes looked at him warily but in shock.

Trazin ignored them, looked back at the man yelling at him, and asked, "What now?"

He got a moment of silence.

Trazin let out a burst of laughter as expected. He retracted his tentacles and appeared undefended, and then Shi Shiran walked to another group of forces in the field.

He grabbed one of them, pulled off the latter's helmet, and took a good look at him with his burning green eyes. After more than ten seconds, there was a sudden muffled clicking sound in his body.

"Oh——!" he suddenly shouted in shock. "Orican, you didn't say anything about this!"

"You damn metal lump!" The giant he caught cursed viciously, coughing blood, but still said the words. "The Night Lords will tear you apart!"

Trazin dropped him, turned around, and raised his hands to the Emperor's Scythes who had gathered around him. The scepter he regarded as a treasure fell to the ground, turning into a molecular state and returning to where it came from.

He himself raised his hands and said very fast: "First of all, I hope you can cuff me to prove that I have nothing to do with this matter. Secondly, I hope you will send troops to the ground of your planet immediately. "

"You have no right to speak!" someone roared.

Trazin shrugged and put down his hands. The black spot on the visual sensor unit was getting closer and closer. He thought to himself, after a while, I will not speak even if you beg me to speak.

Unless he allows it.