The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"The Void Dragon fears the Necrons; it won't allow them to revive. Sotha Sil probably never imagined that the Void Dragon would be on your side. No, perhaps it made some deal with someone else."

Talos murmured to himself, nodding slightly.

"Tessera, Tessera, the place where everything began, the place where everything ends."

In a daze, he noticed someone behind him in the reflection, a slender, ghostly figure peering out from behind his shoulder, a gaunt, pale face filled with sorrow.

".Also, the place where I lost my brother."

Talos's vision suddenly blurred, no, filled with tears.

In the alien temple surrounded by lava, two executioners were pulling their blood-stained spears from the back of a kneeling man in white robes, crimson blood spreading across the scorching floor, staining the pristine white.

An old man holding an Aquila-topped staff was collecting something from the man's body with a narrow-necked white bottle.

"No, no, no!!!"

He rushed forward, countless warriors in golden armor turning their war scythes towards him, but they couldn't stop the tangible shadow.

"Get out of the way!!!"

He stretched his claws towards the bastard in grey-iron armor with a wolf pelt on his shoulders, sparks flying as he shoved him away with his claws the moment he turned around.

The old man also quickly flashed away, throwing the narrow-necked bottle into a rift that opened in mid-air.

"Haaiah! Haaiah!"

He picked up the kneeling man, rushed to the other side, kneeling down and trying to wake him up, but that familiar face was now only serene, and the once tall and mighty body was rapidly withering, becoming a dried corpse, as if all the essence of life had been drained by some power.

He held him tightly, his brother, the only one he opened his heart to, his growls turning into whimpers, finally settling into silence.

"Ah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The moment he raised his head and roared, violent sound waves swept across the area, forming a terrifying shockwave.

The golden-armored warriors had to plant their weapons in the ground to steady themselves, and the old man holding the Aquila-topped staff also pushed forward, forming a psychic barrier, only the two executioners, the tallest golden-armored warrior, and the Wolf Lord stood still.

After the outburst, there was endless mourning, the silent pressure suffocating.

He slowly stood up, carrying the withered remains of his brother on his back, wrapped in his cloak.

The next second, he suddenly appeared in front of the old man, smashing through his psychic barrier with his head, his face almost touching the old man's, then revealing his fangs.

"From now on, the Night Lords no longer belong to the Imperium."

With his gritted words, the glittering claws in his hands creaked.

"How could you be so vicious, trampling on a sincere heart, even beasts know brotherly love-"

He turned around, the black hair fluttering in the wind could not hide the cold, sharp gaze - a gaze that pierced the Wolf Lord like claws.

"Are you even human!"

"This is his greater good, for the greater good of humanity, your narrow emotions only taint this sacrifice, Konrad!"

Hearing the old man's words behind him, he let out a shrill and mad laugh.

"Greater good? Then remember my words, one day, this ridiculous Imperium will pay the most terrible price for everything it has done today!"

The towering golden-armored giant raised the spear in his hand, stained with the blood of a god.

"Konrad, put down the body and leave immediately, or I don't mind staining it with the blood of a second primarch."

"You, you..."

Konrad raised his claws, pointing at the golden-armored warriors.

"You are not worthy of my killing, my claws only kill sinners, not touch beasts."

Finally, his hand stopped in the direction of his other brother, Leman Russ.

"You really are too pathetic, dog."

Leman Russ clenched his teeth, revealing sharp canines, but two lines of clear tears streamed down his rough face, his throat only filled with gasps.

He might have wanted to explain something, but in the end, he didn't say anything.

But he didn't care, just lowered his hand and walked out in silence.

"Stop him!"

The golden-armored leader roared, and a swarm of golden-armored warriors rushed forward, his gaze instantly turning cold.

"Since you're looking for death--"

The next second, the space in front of him cracked like a tangible thing, or rather, was cut open, like a shattered mirror, and the movements of those golden-armored giants instantly stopped.

The old man in the distance frowned.

"Konrad, when did you..."

But he ignored him, walking forward step by step.

As he passed through those shattered spaces, the neat golden fragments wrapped in flesh and blood fell one by one.

But he stopped at the tenth step, or rather, something stopped him.

An existence that could not be seen appeared in front of him, his palm on the top of his head.

"Leave, Konrad, leave here, forget here, return to your legion"

He tightened his face, bared his teeth, but still couldn't resist the pressure, slowly kneeling down, and then two golden-armored warriors walked over and carried away the body behind him.

Trembling, he slowly raised his head, staring at that indifferent face, and said hoarsely:

"You can't change me. Nor can you force me to forget. I will come back. I have already seen your ridiculous delusions will be ruthlessly torn apart. I will use countless flesh and blood to create a shameful idol for you... I am a sinner but will never ask for forgiveness again... Your ideal country will become a morgue... You will get nothing. Nothing."

His vision was gradually swallowed by dazzling gold, but in this sun-like dazzling outline, an inconspicuous black spot slowly emerged, and spread at an extremely fast speed, gradually dyeing the bright platinum sun into an obsidian dying sun.

Talos blinked, the ghostly figure had disappeared, he just stared at the radiating black scars on the table, then slowly wiped the area below his nose with the back of his hand, wiping away the black blood that had slipped from his nostrils.

Then, as he stood up, he suddenly swayed, fortunately grabbing the chair in time.

Seeing him like this, Kyrian straightened up and was about to open his mouth, but Savine suddenly shook his head.

Talos silently turned around, staggering two steps, then leaned against the wall and slowly left the conference room.

"Savine, is he really okay like this?"

"This is his choice, maybe it's one of the few choices in his life that is completely out of his own will, what can I say?"

Although he told Talos to organize things, Sotha Sil was still worried about the situation of the various companies, and waited in Ulan Huda for a few more days until the first company, the 10th Company led by Bakhram, arrived first, and then he was relieved and asked about the situation of the Victory Scars.

Bakhram immediately informed Sotha Sil in detail about the training period and what happened at the Victory Scars, including the situation of the Relictors Chapter.

After listening to the report, Sotha Sil praised Bakhram's on-the-spot decision-making.

In addition, Sotha Sil was also pleased and gratified by the calmness and wit he showed in handling such complex diplomatic affairs.

He clearly remembered what Bakhram looked like when he first met him, that thin and naive boy, who had now grown into an Astartes company commander capable of standing alone.