40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 90 88. Invisible Form (3k)

Robert Guilliman did not expect that he would be asked this question. Logically, he was the one asking the question - but he was already familiar with the trick.

Politics is the sum total of the most formidable communication skills humans can invent. You don’t have to learn them all, you just need to master the worst of them to thrive in politics.

And Roboute Guilliman holds them all.

So he knew—or thought he knew—that Khalil Lohars was trying to take the initiative.

But he was wrong, he discovered this after thirteen seconds of silence. He saw a rare honesty in the eyes of his taller opponent.

That kind of honesty reminded him of the days when he was still arguing with people from all directions for a little order in the Presbytery. At that time, he also had such a look in his eyes.

Frankly, it almost stung him.

".Reason?" he asked briefly.

He didn't crave more than that, he didn't use the draft he had prepared to deal with the problem, and he didn't even try to regain the initiative.

"Your home planet is under threat," Khalil Lohars said slowly. "This threat comes from the invisible, from an undetectable world. Although what I say may sound alarmist to you, please believe it."

He slowly clenched his fists. At this moment, Guilliman keenly noticed that the blood belonging to Van Cleef was spreading along the lines of the skin on the palm of his right hand. They didn't drip, but left a sticky trail on that palm.

In silence, Robert Guilliman once again thought of the man who stubbornly raised his hand, took his helmet and slowly put it on.

And a familiar rage.

He smelled it, clearly visible, spreading over his tall opponent, as palpable as his silence.

"good."

Guilliman nodded solemnly. "I trust you."

He quickly came behind the heavy marble table and stepped on some mechanism. Then the ground covered with mahogany floors cracked, and the machinery operated. During the flip, a huge metal countertop emerged directly in front of the marble table.

Guilliman came to it and pressed a few buttons, and the light blue holographic projection began to appear. From scratch, from two dimensions to three dimensions, from abstract lines whose specific shape is unpredictable, to the magnificent city overlooking scene.

All of this took less than five seconds.

"How?" Guilliman asked with a little pride. "The products created by Macragge's scientists have finally paid off after four years of huge expenditures."

However, Khalil did not answer his words. He just came to the front of the projection, stared at it steadily for a while, and then quickly raised his right hand.

Guilliman originally wanted to tell him how to use this projection, how to split the exterior of the building to see the inner layer, and how to make the underground water and electricity storage system visible to the sky without sending anyone in.

However, the moment Khalil Lohars firmly stretched out his right hand, he knew that his thoughts at the moment were all unnecessary.

——He knew how to use this thing early on?

This question arises, then is squashed, and then comes another, not a question, but a conjecture.

- No, he didn't know how it was supposed to be used, he had just used it or seen something similar. His movements were unfamiliar, but that didn't stop him from showing a strange familiarity

This guess made more guesses come oncoming, like waves on the seaside, one after another, never ending.

"Look here," Khalil said. "Sir, there are here and here, a total of nine areas. From your power station to the flood control dam built on the mountain, schools, research institutes, residential areas and finally your office, this building."

"What happened to them?" Guilliman asked, raising his head and looking at Khalil intently.

"They're in danger."

"Danger?"

Guilliman left the table and began to pace the room.

There wasn't much room left for him, but he was still able to show his dissatisfaction with his pace and put pressure on his opponent - who remained expressionless and silent, just waiting for his next line. talk.

Difficult, extremely difficult. He thought this way, even with a little anger: I didn't originally want to use these things to communicate with you, but why did you use them on me?

"Is that all, instructor?" Guilliman stopped and asked seriously. "You needed solitude and a room, and I believed you. You said Macragge was under threat, and I believed you."

"Now, you said there is some danger in these places. Okay, instructor. Where is the danger?"

"Macragge has complete air defense means, and my legion has also protected the ground very well. I did not see any invasion sirens today, nor did I hear news of anyone making trouble in the city. And this is a happy city, even if there is civil unrest None of the conditions are met, so where is the danger you mentioned?”

After saying this, he began to wait. To be precise, wait patiently and carefully.

He was as excited as a hunter who had laid an ambush early in the morning waiting for his prey to fall into the trap. The feeling of meeting his opponent in chess made him excited. His eloquence kicked in without him even realizing it.

And his opponent.

"That's all I can reveal." Khalil Loharus replied softly, his voice as soft as catkins compared to Guilliman's seriousness. "But I can repeat what I have revealed before, Lord Robert Guilliman."

He changed his standing posture.

In just this moment - the feeling of threat came over me.

"Invisible form," he said quietly. "Monsters, supernatural evil spirits, ancient things that cannot be seen directly. Or the darkness itself."

"You were just trying to play charades with me! You didn't answer my question!"

Guilliman roared - he rarely used this voice to speak to others, and when he used it at this moment, he was not really angry, but just trying to apply pressure and want to ask more things.

However, no matter how hard he tried and how hard he pressed with his eyes, his opponent remained motionless.

Even started to smile.

Smile approvingly.

"You control your emotions very well. Considering what we are going to face next, I would call the ability you are showing now a rare talent. You have acquired it through acquired training. ,Yes or no?"

"Yes." Guilliman blurted out, but suddenly realized something was wrong with the question. Khalil Lohars changed the subject and he took the initiative again. The realization chagrined him greatly.

"But this has nothing to do with you."

He raised his chin and spoke with an arrogant attitude that he hated.

"You just have to tell me the truth, Instructor Khalil. You promised me, on the tarmac, under the gaze of more than ten thousand pairs of eyes, that you would tell me anything I wanted to know."

"I'll answer every question you have." His opponent smiled slowly and gently. "I promised, yes, and I never lie. But I have spoken, Lord Robert Guilliman, the Invisible."

He smiled away, became extremely serious, and then began to repeat a string of awkward Gothic words.

"Invisible form," Khalil said. "This is what is threatening your city and even your home planet, an invisible threat."

Guilliman pursed his lips.

Angry, this emotion is so obvious on his extraordinary face. His handsomeness is a kind of handsomeness that exceeds the limit of mortal imagination. The green leafy laurel crown sets off his blond hair, and his serious gaze almost makes Car. Leal thought of another person.

If he could, he would use his psychic powers here to ask for help, but he couldn't. Psychic communication across such a distance is extremely risky, not to mention that something is already spreading here.

Khalil lowered his head and began to wait for Robert Guilliman's answer. At the same time, he began to think about something.

The Emperor—or Neos—made his words clear as he left.

He has feelings, but his feelings are those of a father to his son, and of one friend to another. He couldn't let these two feelings control everything. Apart from Neos, he was still the Emperor.

Therefore, it is impossible for Khalil Lohars or Konrad Coates to receive some kind of preferential treatment beyond the ordinary.

"conquer."

At that time, the Emperor stood in his hall, standing on the ground as bright as the reflection of stars, and spoke to him seriously.

"This is his mission and his responsibility. And the tasks brought by his nature must be carried out after this. You must let him understand this matter, Khalil Lohars. If not If we conquer, mankind will not be able to escape its gloomy destiny. Call it ambition or foolish wish, but I just want mankind to become one."

"Is there no other way?" Khalil asked.

"No," said the Emperor. "There is no alternative but sacrifice. As my sons, they cannot escape this. As my friends, neither can you, Khalil Lohars."

"I'm a friend of Neos."

"I am he," the Emperor said majestically. "So conquer, for humanity."

"I don't want to believe you."

After a long silence, Robert Guilliman spoke in a low voice.

"Whether it is due to rational considerations or the content of Imperial truth, I am unwilling to believe your statement about the invisible form. You are trying to make me believe that Macragge will be attacked by ghosts from myths and legends, Kari El Lohars. You are crazy."

He shook his head angrily and wiped his sweaty forehead.

"And I am actually willing to believe you." He raised his head, anger burning in the depths of his eyes. In addition, there was something familiar to Khalil. "For the sake of the people on Macragge, I want to believe you."

Khalil smiled.

He came to the edge of the long table and stretched out his right hand.

"You won't be disappointed," he promised. "I will kill every monster that dares to invade here."

Guilliman also smiled, and the tense atmosphere dissipated in an instant. He shook his hand and shook it up and down twice.

"You sound like a killer when you say that." Guilliman joked at the end of the conversation.

Kavin was stuck for a long time, and finally wrote this chapter when he was on the verge of sudden death. After waking up, I will continue, probably around 10,000, it will only be more, not less. Asking for votes.