40k: Midnight Blade

Following habit, Hayid began to take a deep breath.

Push back the time twenty years, to the afternoon when he first joined the army

Under the scorching sun, the recruiting officer shouted the points of military discipline in their ears. The veterans stood not far away with their hands folded and sneers on their faces. And they had just finished running with weights. They were sweating profusely, their heads were dizzy, and they were thirsty and hungry.

Hayid couldn't remember how he persisted until that night. He only remembered that there was a half-grown boy standing next to him who kept mumbling one sentence.

"Breathe deeply and stay calm."

This sentence has followed him for the next twenty years, and it remains true to this day. He took two deep breaths and then regained his composure. Suddenly, the down-and-out old sailor on Banjo-1 disappeared, and another man took his place.

Khalil looked at him, waiting for him to ask. But Hayid didn't do this. He just stood up from the sofa and pressed his heels together for a moment as a habit.

He stood there with an upright posture. Even if he was dressed in rags, people would subconsciously think that he was a soldier - and that was indeed the case.

Hayid took another deep breath. When he exhaled the last breath of air, he slowly raised his right hand and saluted.

"I'm not your superior," Khalil told him as gently as possible.

Hayid said nothing, just put his hands down and waited for subsequent orders.

Khalil sighed and said, "Come with me."

They left this small lounge and headed all the way up.

This journey was not very friendly to Hayid's knees. Walking on the ground and walking in a warship are two completely different experiences. No matter how good the ship is, it is inevitable to have sudden shocks or bumps, even if they are stopped. There is no movement at all in low-Earth orbit or in the dock.

Hayid thought he had forgotten how to balance on a boat, but he was wrong, he had not forgotten at all.

This instinctive reaction formed by habit surged from the depths of his bones, not only allowing him to walk quickly in crowded or wide corridors, it even made him temporarily ignore his own identity.

He was wrong again. It seems that after that war, he always made wrong choices

In a daze, Hayid even thought that this was just another wait on the boat. Soon, he and his brothers will take a transport plane to perform a mission on the surface of a certain planet.

They are an assault company, always at the forefront, always the first sharp sword. At times, not even the Astartes were as fast as they were.

He thought of this, and then actually met a group of Astartes. They wore black armor and knight's robes, and their winged helmets were held in their arms or hung on their waists. Every face looked ruthless.

Hayid controlled himself, lowered his head, and stood aside, wanting to wait for them to leave, but they did not do so.

"grown ups?"

Hayid heard one of them speak, and there was even a little hesitation in his voice. He raised his head and saw his mysterious employer communicating with the group of dark angels as expected.

"What's the matter, Azrael?"

"I'm just returning to the team." The giant known as Azrael said dryly. "I didn't expect to meet you on the road, so I thought -"

"—apology?" his employer asked.

"Yes."

Hayid heard a chuckle, and he was a little confused. How could this be so funny?

Doubts were born, and then immediately eliminated, as he saw his employer pull a complete bomb from his arms and hand it to the Dark Angel.

"There's no need to apologize, you just did what you were supposed to do. But, like I said, you're going to need it - legally speaking, I'm working for the Inquisition now, and you opened fire on me Fire. So you have to write a lot of reports."

Hayid heard a gasp.

".I see."

The power armor began to buzz again. Hayid lowered his head and watched them leave from the corner of his eyes, feeling a little reassured: his employer was indeed from the Inquisition.

After realizing this, the doubts that had always existed in his heart were finally eliminated, but he still needed to confirm one thing, so when they were about to turn the next corner, Hayid spoke.

"grown ups."

Sighing, but not impatient - Hayid saw his employer turning around, his tone still gentle: "What's the matter?"

"Are you an Inquisitor?"

His employer nodded, using the same ambiguity favored by the Inquisitors, exactly as he had seen it before: "You could say that, Hayd."

"Then I'll take it as you." Hayid nodded. "So, you are actually cooperating with the Dark Angels? Are you here on Banjo-1 for some kind of investigation mission?"

Khalil narrowed his eyes and suddenly showed a half-smiling expression.

Hayid understood his subtext, but he still continued firmly: "I understand that my problem will probably get me executed, but if you are here after that matter, I'm afraid I can't help you. ”

"Why?" Khalil asked softly.

Hayid stopped answering, but still stood up straight.

Khalil smiled and said: "Actually, I know nothing about 'that thing' you are talking about, Hayid."

"The Imperium is large and rigid, and so are the Inquisitions. At this very moment, in these few minutes as we speak, how many Inquisitors are active across the galaxy? How many things do they deal with each year - or, let's say Let me put it another way—how many inquisitors die every year?”

"I just happened to come to Banjo-1. I'm not chasing after something as you think, but since you mentioned it."

He paused for a moment and saw Hayid's face gradually becoming tense.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the door of a study room. The door was open and no one was standing guard. There are many rows of huge bookshelves in the room, some are empty, and some are filled with books.

It is worth mentioning that these bookshelves are not very delicate. The surface is mottled and the shape is rough. Some places are not even polished and burrs can be seen.

Hayid was led into it, his steps cautious, while his employer seemed to be strolling through a jungle of bookshelves. It was so quiet here that Hayid could barely hear his footsteps and his own breathing.

They walked all the way to the end of the bookshelf and bookshelf, and then they met a person here.

In other words, a giant.

Hayid's mind suddenly went blank, and he had the urge to kneel down from the bottom of his heart. If those pair of dark green ruthless eyes hadn't looked over, making him stiff, Hayid would definitely do this.

The eyes quickly looked away, and its owner slowly stood up from a chair. His long, faded pale blond hair spread like a beast's mane, and his thick beard almost covered it. The lower half of the face is still visible, but the firm lines can still be seen.

And those eyes.

The throne is up there. Hayid shouted in his heart, following those eyes, and saw his own reflection in them - a trembling, sweating mortal, an insignificant speck of dust.

This mote of dust is facing one of the most noble people in the entire galaxy. This incident makes the mote of dust feel hard to breathe, ashamed of itself, and ashamed of itself.

He even had the urge to cry, regretting that he didn't dig out the military uniform from the bottom of the box today.

Then the giant called his name.

"Corporal Hayid," Leon El'Jonson said calmly. "Finally waiting for you."

"What, what, what?" Hayid asked with difficulty and inarticulately, acting as if he had lost the ability to speak.

In an instant, the veteran's calmness completely disappeared. At this moment, he was like every devout believer who was meeting the gods, his chin was trembling, his cheeks were tense, and there were tears in his eyes.

Khalil looked away, not allowing himself to look any further. He understood that this is the power of faith. When a religion is promoted for ten thousand years, this is the result they will get

He understood, understood, but it was hard for him to fully accept.

The lion approached Hayid and spoke slowly: "Perhaps you already know who I am, but out of etiquette, I still want to introduce myself to you - I am Leon El'Jonson, One of the Primarchs. I've been waiting for you, Corporal."

"wait for me?"

Hayid asked hoarsely, he was even more shocked, as if he was about to faint. Khalil reached out and patted his shoulder, shaking his head comfortingly.

"Yes." The lion nodded. "You don't know, but we have met before. Remember that weird old man in the Foolish Fisherman's House? The old man who only wore a robe in the cold weather?"

"That person is me, I just used a little disguise. I want to apologize to you for this. I didn't mean to deceive, but I had to do it as a last resort because I had something to deal with at the time. Now, Corporal, let's talk about you. Something that was mentioned in the pub.”

He raised his left hand, turned his palm, palm upward, and put his five fingers together, pointing at a chair like a sharp sword.

"Sit down, Corporal, and let's talk about who your honor was stolen from."

Hayid did as he was told, but he still couldn't believe it. Did he hear a little anger in the lion's tone just now? A Primarch, angry at what had happened to him - over a speck of dust?

The corporal of the 23rd Company of the 77th Doom Guards Regiment sat in the chair with a stiff and sour look, his body stiff.

His employer stood aside, leaning against the bookshelf, with a calm expression, his hands folded across his chest, and his right index finger tapping his left arm continuously. The lion stayed where he was with his hands behind his back, and Hayid heard him taking a deep breath.

After a moment, the lion spoke like this, and he asked a question in an affirmative tone: "Have you participated in the Battle of Sauvet."

Hayid quickly replied: "Yes, sir."

"Call sir," said the lion. "Next, I ask that you be completely honest with me, and I will be completely honest with you. Can you do that?"

".I can, sir. I swear to the Emperor."

"Very good, Corporal. So now, tell me, when the second battle group of the Hadiran Orcs approached Sauvet, what orders did the 23rd Company of the 77th Doom Guard Regiment you were serving receive? "

Hayid took a deep breath.

Calm down and stay calm. The half-grown man who had died long ago slowly comforted him in his heart. Take a deep breath, Hayid, take a deep breath.

Hayed took another deep breath, and then he spoke: "We received the order when they were about to land, and it was too late to deploy at that time. In order to buy time, we were ordered to go to the landing site and fight them."

"Don't you have any complaints about this?"

"I am a member of the assault company, sir." Hayed answered firmly. "Every member of the assault company joined voluntarily. We are never afraid of death. We always go to death."

"Very good, corporal. How long did it take you to get there?"

"Thirty-nine minutes, sir, I remember it clearly."

"How did you enter the battlefield?"

"Airborne."

Hayed said so. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and a naked hatred was born on his face.

"Time is urgent. The battle situation cannot wait for us to build fortifications, and the greenskins will not wait either. Therefore, we are divided into two groups. Six assault companies will stay outside the landing site to dig trenches, and the other six assault companies will be airborne."

"We caught those greenskin bastards by surprise, sir. They didn't expect that someone was even crazier than them. At first it was smooth. We used flamethrowers directly in the jungle. My company and I defeated them."

"But everyone knows that you can't win the battle with the greenskins. We are not Astartes and there is no way to kill them all."

"Soon, we were surrounded, but we also bought time for the rear. Our armored company has set off, and we only need to hold on for a while to hold on until victory comes."

"But you didn't." The lion said in a low voice. "Twelve companies, twelve thousand elite soldiers, fought to the end, but the death rate was as high as 83%."

Hayd raised his head bitterly, glanced at the lion, then quickly lowered his head, his voice becoming hoarse: "We have no way, sir."

"That group of greenskins always finds a way to break through our defenses, and if we are not afraid of death, then they are looking for death."

"We shot them into sieves with explosive bombs, roasted them with flamethrowers, used grenades, knives, and even teeth and fists. But they just didn't retreat or run away. We really have-"

"-I understand." The lion said.

The anger hidden in his voice finally fully appeared, and the huge anger that could not be suppressed made Hayd tremble. Even though he knew in his heart that this was not coming towards him.

"I have read the battle report of the Sovet Battle many times before you came. I wrote down every detail, and it is exactly the same as what you just said. But I still don't understand one thing, Haid."

"Sir?"

The lion put down his hands, walked to the corporal, stared into his eyes, and asked word by word: "Who crossed your name off the list of survivors?"

Haid was silent for a long time, and finally, he uttered a term.

"The Tribunal."

Khalil's index finger, which was about to fall again, suddenly hung in the air.