Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Walking with a child through a city full of corpses is definitely not a pleasant experience.

Prometheus kept frowning, but not just because of this, there were other reasons.

He thought he would be full of fear and disgust towards corpses like normal people, especially those that were so swollen and putrid... but he didn't.

On the contrary, he even felt that his mood was calm and normal.

It was as if, to him, corpses were just like the red-hot steel in the workshop, ordinary sights that deserved no more attention. No matter how miserable their death was or how horrifying their appearance became, they were just among the many ordinary scenes.

It’s just a scene.

This strange calm made him frown.

The blacksmith Prometheus was an ordinary person living on Fenilos. As a blacksmith, of course he would be familiar with things like red-hot steel and forges, but a corpse?

He should not feel familiar with corpses. This is not the attitude that Prometheus, the blacksmith, should have.

If I wasn't a blacksmith, who would I be?

He had no answer to this.

Tia's voice sounded at the right time, interrupting his thinking: "Uncle, are they moving...?"

There are not many things in this city that can be called them, but there should be none that can move. With this thought, Prometheus turned back and stared at the place pointed by the girl, where there was a group of people piled up on the corner of the street.

's corpse.

His penis has shrunk—frankly speaking, the girl was right.

They were indeed moving, their bodies trembling and squirming on the ground, and then, a corpse stood up.

The arms that turned into blue-grey within just a few hours supported his swollen body and climbed up from the ground. His eyeballs rolled out of their sockets and fell to the ground into two disgusting puddles of slime. He opened his eyes

The teeth were no longer visible in the mouth, they had all disappeared, the exposed gums showed an abnormal brown color, and the tongue was swollen and full of mold.

Prometheus calmly pulled the girl behind him. He held the m35 light gun in his hand and watched the thing walk towards them step by step, observing its every move carefully and vigilantly.

.

In his mind - this corpse has become 'it'.

The movement of the corpse was generally very slow. It should have been a healthy person with a well-proportioned body in life, but after death it became fat and swollen. Its exposed skin turned blue-gray, and the blood vessels on its neck were twisted.

It bulged thickly and was trembling as it moved.

Out of some intuition, Prometheus felt that blood was not flowing in it.

"I heard footsteps, Uncle Prometheus, is there anyone else like us?"

"No, child," said Prometheus. "You'd better cover your ears."

As soon as he finished speaking, he swung the light gun violently, using this masterpiece of engineering as some kind of blunt instrument to hit the corpse's head hard. The butt of the light gun hit its head, damaging the skin and damaging the skull.

It was squeezed and then broken. And all of this was clearly seen by Prometheus.

With a heavy face, he let go of his hand and let the deformed light gun fall to the ground. The corpse staggered for half a step, and finally fell to the ground with a pop. Its head had completely disappeared.

Some kind of yellowish-brown mucus is pouring out of it.

Will this be the end?

of course not.

In nightmares, monsters often move in groups.

Prometheus turned around without saying a word, held Dia in his arms, and then ran away. He did not answer the girl's anxious questions, nor did he tell her what was happening now or where they were going.

. He just moved quickly and nimbly through the group of zombies standing up swayingly, and returned to his workshop.

"What the hell happened, Uncle Prometheus?"

The girl stood on the ground of his workshop and asked timidly. During this period, she kept stroking the bracelet on her right wrist with her left hand, as if she wanted to dispel the fear in her heart.

"Something that shouldn't happen." Prometheus replied with a serious face.

He came to the forging table and picked up the forging hammer on it. This one-handed hammer was his own work, thick and strong - of course, the concept of one-handed is a relative term, considering his size.

, this is of course a one-handed hammer. But to others, it is a giant hammer.

Taking it in his hand, Prometheus immediately felt that his heavy heart had been relieved. Just like a blind man found his crutch, a thirsty man got a glass of clean water. However, the emergence of this emotion

There is no reason for it either.

Why do I feel at ease?

He stared at the one-handed hammer, and could still remember every detail of forging it by the stove. Memories cannot be faked or deceived, at least that's what he thought. There was no doubt that this hammer was

His work on Fenelos.

However, at the same time, a sense of familiarity began to surge up from deeper in his mind.

He was not familiar with this one-handed hammer, but was familiar with the process of 'forging a hammer'. It was as if he had done this a long time ago. And he had done it more than once.

"Uncle Prometheus?"

Once again, the girl's voice woke him up from his thoughts.

She said with a trembling voice: "There are a lot of footsteps outside...can you hear it? What is going on?"

"Get behind me, kid."

Without hesitation, Prometheus said this while raising his one-handed hammer.

The strange feeling of familiarity was gradually increasing, and he knew that he was probably very familiar with combat.

Everyone, please go and try it soon.]

As for the reason...

Prometheus took a deep breath.

I can leave it to find it later.

----------------------------------------

"Have you been dreaming about continuous images?"

Crane raised his head from the papers on the table and asked blankly.

You can't tell his emotions just from his tone of voice. This is probably a skill that all people who have ever been Batman have. They will never allow people to find out their true emotional reactions from the dialogue.

"Yes, sir." Cordos said hesitantly. "It started after I... came back from the dead."

"This is an interesting phenomenon. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Another seemingly casual question caused beads of sweat to appear on Cordos's forehead. He only learned the identity of this lord after coming into contact with the Astartes of the Crimson Blades.

And position——Although it seems unrealistic that the Tribunal will be banned, but...

This is an empire after all, and anything that is unrealistic, ridiculous, or ridiculous is often true.

In other words, according to the Crimson Blades, this gentleman is now the leader of the new Tribunal of the Empire. Although Cordos does not know what his character is like, he is very familiar with the Tribunal.

.

To be honest, if the matter of his resurrection from the dead had been handled by the previous Inquisition, they would have probably classified him as a suspected subspace supernatural incident on the spot and then taken him back to a secret ship of the Inquisition for slow interrogation.

.

Although this gentleman did not do this, what if he changed his mind?

Cordos did not dare to be careless and answered cautiously: "I didn't take this seriously before... After all, everyone dreams."

Crane glanced at him without emotion, then lowered his head again, immersed in the documents on the table: "Yes, you are right, Sergeant Cordos, everyone dreams. Just look at it.

When it comes to dreaming, your experience is not that unusual."

He reached out and took out a document, held it in front of him and read it carefully, still talking, and his attitude was quite calm: "It's just that, considering your experience, this is obviously not a simple continuous dream."

Cordos couldn't help but wipe his sweat.

Yin Qijier, who was watching, saw his movements clearly and couldn't help coughing slightly, indicating that he didn't need to be so excited.

"There is no need to be so nervous, sergeant. I am not a judge who is keen on beating loyalists into traitors or traitors. Yes, I have made many private judgments, and I also have the ability to make judgments, but I personally

I prefer to draw conclusions after careful investigation and meticulous reasoning.”

Whether it was an illusion or not, Cordos always felt that when Crane mentioned the word reasoning, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"So."

Crane finally turned around and put the document back on the table behind him. He asked calmly: "What are these dreams you have about?"

"Mostly about fighting, my lord."

"Fighting what?"

"And many things, sir. There are humans, there are bugs with purple light on their bodies, there are corpses manipulated by some kind of witchcraft... By the way, I seem to have fought a giant with gray skin.

His chin is a black crown."

"Interesting." Crane nodded. "Have you had similar experiences in the past?"

"I'm sure never, sir. I have indeed fought against corpses manipulated by cultists, and I have fought against Tyranids, but the enemies in the picture are not similar to them. It can even be said that they have nothing in common."

Cordos' words were firm, which led Crane to his next question: "Why are you so sure they aren't?"

"because......"

Cordos was stunned.

Yes, why?

Why am I so sure they aren't?

Looking back now, the chitin-carapace bugs don't look much different from the Tyranids, and can even be said to be very similar. And the corpses manipulated by witchcraft are even more similar to those of the cultists through desecration.

The corpses evoked by the method are very similar.

His eyes widened, and the huge sense of absurdity began to shake his reason. The Astartes are a group of strong fortresses, and fortresses are often breached from within. Their reason is their strongest weapon.

, but it can also become the most vulnerable thing in them at certain times.

"Come to your senses, Sergeant Cordos," Crane said. "My questioning is not over yet."

"Yes...yes, please say."

The sergeant of the Emperor's Sword replied distractedly.

"Your conviction is obviously not derived from a logical perspective, right? So, can I understand that someone has instilled this idea in you?"

Crane crossed his arms and looked as stern as a steel sculpture. He said word by word with the coldness and rationality that only steel can possess: "I'm afraid your sanity has been contaminated to a certain extent... Of course,

This is just my first guess."

Cordos, who was originally planning to accept arrest, raised his head in shock and watched helplessly as Crane, who had just pronounced him to be contaminated by subspace, said another sentence.

"The pictures you saw are indeed real, and the enemies in them also exist, but you are not the one fighting them. You just saw the memories of others."

Crane pointed at Yinzekiel on the side: "Considering some of the symptoms that the Blood Angels had, it actually makes sense that you would have this problem. The only problem is that the Emperor's Sword Chapter belongs to the Ultramarines

, even if you have similar symptoms due to genetic mutation, what you saw should be some of Robert Guilliman's experiences on the Emperor's Glory..."

He threw these secrets that should not be known to anyone one after another in the faces of the two people present, without caring about their feelings. Cordos was still thinking hard, but Yinzikiel couldn't hold himself any longer. He

I was originally a spectator, but I kept getting mentioned about 'seeing other people's memories'...

"Sir, since the return of the Gene Father, we have been freed from the curse of the Black Fury..." Yinqi Kil said with difficulty. "And, can you please stop mentioning this matter?"

"But blood thirst is not there yet, is it? And I have not mentioned the issue of blood thirst." Crane nodded to him. "For now, what we are discussing is still the continuity of Sergeant Cordos.

Dream incident.”

He rounded up the topic without leaving a trace.

"Then, continue to reason from this point of view. What you see is the memory of someone else, someone related to the Emperor's Sword Chapter. If you dig a little deeper...

Sergeant Erdos, who did you get your gene-seed from?"

Cordos replied in a low voice: "My gene seed comes from Lord Cronus Tiberius. He was once the captain of the Emperor's Sword and disappeared in a battle three hundred years ago.

Well...his name is also the origin of my tactical team, and the war group has taken many measures to commemorate him."

"disappeared?"

"Yes, sir. There are not many records left of this battle."

At this point, Cordos obviously hesitated for a while before continuing: "...In fact, the details about this battle were artificially erased, because Lord Tiberius

Encountered subspace turbulence, the whole person suddenly disappeared after the victory."

Crane narrowed his eyes. If there was someone familiar with Batman here, he would probably make relevant preparations immediately - that is not a good sign. This kind of look usually means that Batman has made some discovery.

.

But, he won't tell you.

"I see. I'm glad you didn't hide anything from me, sergeant. You can go back. I will start investigating this matter."

Crane said neatly.