40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 632 15. Interlude: Journey to the Solar System (1)

The lion hurriedly led Hayid into a cabin that had just been cleaned. The decoration here was simple, not luxurious, but everything needed was available.

The Blade of Reason has been serving the Lion since its birth, and its internal structure has been specially designed with reference to the Primarch's own opinions. These cabins are one of the results. He demanded that there must be a place for mortals on the Blade of Reason.

This incident attracted many expected accusations from the Lions, and those at the center of the empire's politics unanimously expressed the same opinion: Does the Lord of the Dark Angels want to return to the era of the Legion?

The holder of the seal remained silent on the matter. And the Lion said that the Legion never left.

Hayid walked into the cabin silently, his hands clenched into fists in his sleeves that were worn to the point of turning white. After learning the truth, he has always looked like this.

The truth was as cruel as a bone-picking knife, ruthlessly peeling off his flesh, blood, and pride, making his face pale and his steps weak.

Despite this, the Lion has not slowed down to wait for him - in fact, he has not even verbally expressed any kind of sympathy for Hayid since the trial ended.

The security door slowly closed, the metal rubbed, and a faint hum came from the wall. Hayid stared left and right, his lips pursed, while the lion strode towards a human-sized desk.

There was a set of unopened military uniforms on it. The military boots were placed on the ground according to the little superstition among soldiers. They were shiny and spotless.

Both the Guard and the Navy believed that failure to put new boots on the ground would bring bad luck. No one knows whether such superstitions actually work, but the soldiers are clearly too lazy to trace their origins.

You just have to do it, they believe in it so much.

The new boots placed on the ground are like pendants, rosary beads and nameplates, possessing a convincing power that, no matter what, can give them a brief moment of courage when a certain moment comes.

The lion reached out to pick up the military uniform, then bent down to pick up the pair of boots, pressing them on top of the military uniform, and the hardened plastic used to protect them made a soft crisp sound. He turned around, and Hayid saw some kind of invitation in those dark green eyes.

A genuine wry smile appeared on the old corporal's face.

"Sir."

"What is it, Hayid?"

Hayid was silent for a moment, and then said the second half of the sentence together: "Is this some kind of compensation?"

The lion stared at him seriously. After a while, he slowly shook his head and denied it coldly and firmly.

"Compensation is an insult to you. It's the same to me."

"So, what's this, sir?"

"Isn't this obvious enough?" the lion asked back.

Hayid did not answer again.

There was a courage that was too incredible for mortals to slowly sprout in this aging flesh and blood. Not many people in the galaxy dared to ignore the problems of a primarch, but Hayid did it.

In fact, more than that, he not only ignored the Lions' problem, he even expressed an obvious rejection.

No matter what the reason was, whether it was a moment of anger or some weird desire to die, he finally did it.

The lion nodded slightly in understanding but appreciation, and put the military uniform in his hand back on the table. Then, a certain moist atmosphere unique to the forest began to fill the air.

Hayid's body froze.

"My time is very tight." The lion said in a rare soft tone. "So, be prepared."

In the next moment, his right hand rested on Hayid's shoulder. For the old corporal, this feeling was really indescribable. Every part of his body stopped working at this moment, but his consciousness was still clear.

Hayid saw very clearly - or felt - something that the Lion wanted to show him.

A forest.

This is what Hayid saw, but he didn't even know how to describe it.

The low-hanging tree crowns and lush grass he saw, as well as a forest path that somehow appeared in the center of his sight, were not muddy, and there were no footprints left in the mud.

This calm green brought a kind of 'perception' beyond reason, as if he was really in it. Unconsciously, Hayid became sweating profusely, but he did not hear any insects or birds in this forest.

All he had was indescribable silence. Listening to his breathing, Hayid felt that he probably had goosebumps on his hands. He felt a little scared, but his body made a choice first.

He stepped onto the path. No one pushed, no one forced, the lion didn't even say a word.

But it was only a step forward.

For some reason, Hayid felt this very clearly. He only took one step, which was absolutely true. However, that very step brought him to a completely unfamiliar place.

This place is grand and vast, and every place you look at is made of pure cold gray steel. The light source was dim, but the place ten steps away was completely obscured by darkness.

Moreover, it was eerily quiet here, even compared to the forest. Hayid felt dizzy and had to lower his head to calm down. Thick cables lay on the rough steel, embedded in the cold gray skin like blood vessels, spreading into the dark depths.

Hayid quickly closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and tried again. He raised his head and stared at the ceiling, but was hit again - the ceiling was simply unreachable, at least dozens of meters high, and a dim light source slowly fell from a place where the direction could not be determined at all. , making his hair stand on end.

What on earth is this place? What else is hiding in the darkness?

Hayid swallowed a mouthful of saliva and tried to take a deep breath, but he only inhaled the choking coldness. It was only then that he realized that it was extremely cold here.

Then he heard a voice.

"Leon El'Jonson. I remember you promised me last time that you would not do this again."

The speaker called out the lion's name without any respect, and there was an obvious accusation in his words.

Behind Hayid, the Lion responded calmly: "I'm in a hurry, brother."

Hayid froze in confusion. He was mentally tough, but this toughness had its limits. The forest, the steel in front of him, and the lion's words "brother" all turned into thick dark clouds that pressed on the top of his heart, making him blind and dizzy.

Fortunately, this did not last long. When the other giant walked out of the darkness calmly, these things completely turned into nothingness.

Hayid's eyes widened and he looked at the person in front of him in shock. A word slowly rose from the depths of his completely blank mind, and then was extended and expanded to become a word.

Steel.

"Urgent matters cannot conceal the nature of your behavior, Leon." Steel said calmly. "You can take that trail and go wherever you want, but how much do I have to think about?"

"Three seconds before your arrival, I had received advance warning. The psychic monitors inside the fortress detected sixty-nine sets of abnormally active data at the same time. These data made them almost faint. Twenty-two Individuals are forced to inject life-shortening emergency suppressant drugs to overcome the impact of these data.”

"As soon as I received the message, the first moment your boots set foot here, the automatic alarm inside the fortress was triggered, and I must now turn it off in manual mode."

"If I don't do this, all nearby Imperial forces, whether Guards or Chapters, will arrive as quickly as possible upon receiving the news, not to mention my guards."

"They are already fully armed. And they are not me. They can't recognize who you are. Even if they can recognize you, they don't dare to confirm whether you are true or false, so they will shoot."

"So, what happens if I'm not here next time and you break your promise once again, Leon?"

Hayid heard the lion sighing at these startling words.

"I apologize to you." After a moment, Leon El'Jonson said this. "I apologize sincerely, Perturabo, I'm so sorry."

Perturabo nodded expressionlessly: "I accept. So, brother, why are you here?"

"I want to see Malcador."

Perturabo frowned slightly: "If that's the case, then why don't you go directly to his 'Government Council'? He spends ninety-five percent of the year in that dark place wrestling with various documents. ”

"I want to go through the official process."

Perturabo was silent for a moment and said, "Nice joke."

"I'm not kidding," said the Lion.

He raised his hand and put it lightly on Hayid's shoulder. He paused for a second and added very seriously: "And, during the meeting, I want to bring this man who was once a member of the 77th Doomsday Guard Regiment with me. Corporal Hayid serving in the 23rd Company.”

Perturabo narrowed his eyes, as if he had realized something, so he lowered his head and looked at Hayid. The old corporal couldn't help but tremble all over at this moment. He couldn't help but feel fear, even though he already knew the identity of the person in front of him.

He wanted to kneel down, but his body was stiff and refused to obey. He was lucky, however, for Perturabo's gaze soon ended for good.

The lion nodded to him and asked again: "The sooner, the better."

"I will arrange it," the Lord of Steel said. "Besides, if there is a next time, you'd better come to my place again."

"Why?"

"Because Rogal Dorn's fortress did not adopt the same design as mine, his anti-psionic devices will only have two consequences when they come into contact with your abilities."

The Lord of Steel turned and walked into the darkness, his voice still echoing calmly.

"First, you tear apart his anti-psychic device and damage the fortress. Second, your abilities are reduced, leading to unpredictable chaos. Where will you go then?"

His footsteps faded away, and Hayid and the Lion stayed where they were, staring into the darkness one after the other. A few seconds later, the old corporal heard a chuckle.

"What he means is that he has left a special road for me, Hayid."

"Sir."

"Cheer up." The lion patted him on the shoulder.

An hour and a half later, they boarded an iron-gray shuttle. Hayid was placed in a window seat, which was probably specially designed for mortals to ride in. It was slightly smaller in size and the safety belt was specially adjusted.

Besides him, the shuttle's passengers included ten heavily armed Astartes, as well as the Lion himself.

He sat at the head of the cabin, and the design of the chair was simply destroying people's eyes. Unlike other seats, its edge was extremely sharp, like a blade.

The lion revealed his true feelings with his frowning eyebrows, and then, in the vibration of the shuttle, he asked: "Has my brother always treated himself like this?"

"My lord--"

An Iron Warrior took a deep breath. He was not wearing a helmet, and there was a little subtle frustration on his face.

"--We can't convince him."

The lion suddenly uttered a dialect. No one knew what he said, but from the deeper wrinkles between his eyebrows, the words were probably not very gentle, and the passenger cabin fell into silence.

Hayid carefully turned his neck and cast his eyes out of the window.

Every day, countless people in the Milky Way want to make a pilgrimage to the solar system. Some wealthy worlds have already opened special routes, but the price is very expensive, even for the nobles.

The poor people naturally can't take this ride, but they have other ways. They would set out in their youth, following the footsteps of their predecessors on a difficult and arduous pilgrimage, basically begging for a living along the way.

Captains would be very happy to take these pilgrims if they did not have too much cargo, and then put them on a planet on the pilgrimage route, letting them continue to wait for passing ships

Helping pilgrims is generally believed to bring good luck to people in the empire, and if it were not for livelihood, who would not want to take a look at the solar system?

When the journey finally ended, the pilgrims who did not die usually reached the last moment of their lives. They were ragged, their cheeks were sunken, and their wrists and necks were full of the certificates of faith given to them.

Those who could not be like them chose to bring their piety to the eyes of the God-Emperor in this way, hoping that he could see it.

Whether he could see it or not, Haid did not know, but he felt that if he was a pilgrim, and finally reached the edge of the solar system after going through untold hardships, he would be so excited that he could not breathe.

It was so beautiful. The old corporal gritted his teeth and suppressed his trembling.

He had seen many things in his life that other people would never see. Not to mention the burning hell on Sovet, he had also seen the battleship fall.

That thing fell from the sky like a collapsed town, disintegrating and burning, people screaming and falling freely from the crumbling wreckage, and a woman was crushed in front of him.

He had also seen an entire army frozen to death by a blizzard, with the sun shining on them, shining. But now, he was so shocked by the miracle in front of him that he could hardly utter a word.

In the final analysis, what he saw was not the cruelty of war to people, nor the horror brought by the great power of nature. At this moment, what Hayd saw was a miracle created by humans themselves.

In the past ten thousand years, tirelessly, generation after generation, endlessly devoted themselves to this endless feat. In the end, they succeeded.

Every planet in the solar system has been transformed into a planet-sized fortress, linked to each other by unimaginably thick iron chains, and stays in the void.

Countless other fortresses that are slightly smaller than these occupy the blanks left, filling up the cruel curtain of the void together. Countless warships, aircraft, and shuttles come and go, constantly moving forward on every planned route.

This is where Terra is located, an ultimate and last line of defense.

And he came here.

Hayd suddenly realized the sadness of this matter-what was he doing here?

He had no intention of pilgrimage, nor was he a wandering merchant who could come to the solar system to discuss business or other matters. He was just a dirty sailor who had settled a matter not long ago and learned the truth.

I think he will die soon.

But he finally came here.

With such complicated thoughts in mind, Haid sat on the shuttle with mixed feelings and waited. Their voyage lasted about two Terra hours, and finally ended at a star port.

It was extremely busy here, and the ships coming and going squeezed the surrounding space. When Haid walked out of the cabin, every staff member he saw was roaring loudly.

He looked at the things in front of him at a loss, shocked by the busyness beyond imagination. Just in front of him on the left, a team of officials in red robes were arguing with others, and both sides had obvious impatience on their faces.

A fat official panted and roared: "You can't just take over our business! The formation of the Penal Corps should follow the imperial law. Law, you understand! This is not the one-sided opinion of your military department!"

His words aroused the approval of his colleagues, and one of those in military uniforms sneered in contempt.

"I only know that those who fight on the front line, whether they are scum criminals or elite soldiers, they are all fighting on the front line, sir."

"Unlike fat pigs like you, they can't eat any delicacies three times a day. Where is the imperial law at that time? Why are the prescribed supplies always not delivered to us as required?"

"Don't blame us for your own corruption!" the fat official roared. "Every supply I handle is handled according to the highest standards!"

"Okay, that's enough." An old officer said lightly. "There's no point in arguing any further. Let's go and line up. Let's see what the Sigillite's Arbitrator thinks of this."

They left angrily, and what attracted Hayd's attention was a team of tall Astartes wearing dark green power armor. They were even taller than the team of Iron Warriors standing behind Hayd.

The dark skin and dark red pupils made them look extremely intimidating, and with that calm expression, Hayd couldn't help but shudder.

As a result, just a dozen seconds later, his shudder was torn to pieces. He saw the pair of Astartes surrounded by a group of civilians who came from nowhere. They were cheering and shouting a name that Hayd vaguely remembered.

"Salamander?" He murmured the name.

A cold snort came from behind him: "Just give them some wreaths, I think they will definitely not refuse."

Hayid did not dare to look back to see who was speaking, but he was not unfamiliar with this kind of scene, so he had the urge to laugh. If the lion had not stepped past him at the right time and led the way, Hayid might really laugh.

At that time, the situation might become a little ugly.

But they did not enter the crowded crowd like others, but left this vast and noisy place through a side door and a long corridor.

Another hall appeared in front of Hayid. There were much fewer people here than in that port, and it was very quiet. Most people either had no expression on their faces or frowned very seriously.

Not only that, they were also very sharp, at least much sharper than the people in the noisy hall.

The moment the lion appeared, they looked over, and then saluted and greeted silently. No one was as excited as Hayid at the beginning.

"Finally, there is no choir." Hayid heard the lion say so in a low voice.

He was talking to an Iron Warrior, the same one he had talked to on the shuttle. Their pace was not fast, leading the way in front, and the others surrounded Hayid in the middle.

This weird treatment made the old corporal feel uncomfortable. He felt it was unusually absurd, so he had to concentrate on listening to the conversation in front to divert his attention.

"Do you hate choirs, too?"

"I don't think many people like them - except for psychic choirs, of course. How is the situation in the solar system recently?"

"Same old, sir. Starting from last year's Emperor's Ascension Day, we have dealt with sixteen potential demon invasions. Overall, the situation in the solar system is good."

The lion hummed without comment, and then said: "Are you still holding competitions?"

"Of course, sir." The Iron Warrior seemed to sigh. "To be honest, I don't mind exchanging combat techniques with Rogal Dorn's sons, but when I think about this matter being broadcast throughout the solar system, it's a bit difficult for me to accept it."

The lion looked at him with a little surprise: "Broadcast throughout the solar system? Why haven't I heard of this?"

"The new regulations have only been implemented for four years." The Iron Warrior said in a muffled voice. "However, I must admit that the benefits of this matter are immediate."

"For example?"

"The economic and livelihood data have increased, and some things based on our chapter culture are selling very well in the solar system. The number of applications to join the chapter has also increased by fourteen percentage points. The Primarch said that people are gradually realizing that we are actually no different from them."

The lion snorted and laughed: "Full-range broadcasting is a good plan, but it doesn't sound like a decision that Perturabo would make. So, tell me, how long did Rogal Dorn take to convince him?"

"Half a century."

The lion laughed.

A few minutes later, they walked into another door, but there was no other passage behind the door. Two bald men in black clothes were standing in front of a flash of closed relief door waiting, with a complex tattoo engraved on their foreheads.

The Iron Warriors stopped and gently pushed Hayd with one hand, motioning him to leave the team. The old corporal left the iron and gray package at a loss, and walked in front of a bald man at the lion's signal.

The man looked at him, raised his hands, and suddenly made a few gestures. Haid looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he meant. At this time, the Iron Warriors had turned and left.

The lion spoke up to explain his confusion: "He is Malcador's mute guard, sworn to remain silent forever. He just asked you if you came here to see the Sigillite?"

Haid was silent for a moment and said, "No, no."

The mute guard continued to make more gestures, and the lion spoke again: "He asked you, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know either." Haid answered in a low voice. He looked up at the lion, and the Lord of the Dark Angels gave him a calm gaze, as if encouraging

The door suddenly opened, and a tall, silver-haired young man walked out, with a golden flame gushing from the Sky Eagle Staff in his hand. He was followed by a dozen servo skulls, and heavy documents were floating and humming under their anti-gravity blades.

Haid was stunned, and the young man had already looked at him.

The old corporal was struck by lightning.

Emperor, those eyes

Hayid almost thought he had seen it wrong, but the young man did not give him a chance to ask. He just waved his hand, signaling the lion and Hayid to come in, and then went back inside.

"Let's go." The lion said.

Hayid was led in with a blank mind.