The Emperor’s Angel of Death

For them, you are just a war machine. They put you into battle, then lock you in a cage, and will wake you up again when they need you to spill more blood.

But you were also a powerful hero, remember?

You do remember, don't you, the seventh company commander of the Star Claw, Kandali Kara Harir?

Some memory fragments from the past flooded up, twisting his mind into a ball of thread...

Before that person turned him into this appearance, when he still had his own body, before he heard these sounds...

Their voices, thousands of voices rolled in their heads.

They taunted him, robbed him of reason, and aggravated his pain...

He didn't want to hear them, and he never wanted to hear them, just as he never wanted to kill forever, just to make them stop even for a moment.

But those voices won't stop, they were chattering every time he was sober.

And when he rests—even though he can't dream, the face of the deceased will still be entangled in his mind.

He kept rejecting them, and those voices kept getting louder.

Memories have become more chaotic.

His brother, his own brother, quarreled with him and tried to persuade him.

The man told him that if you want to guarantee their independence, that they are not bound by ordinary people, and not driven like dogs, they must resist.

But he refused again, and those voices became louder.

"You should listen to him more, you poor worm."

"He is always strong, always above you. If you had the opportunity to obey him back then, you wouldn't have fallen into such a field."

A planet has been burned out, and the person he once admired has already embarked on a path of no return, and he is absolutely not in the same way.

When he violated the will of the man, he was imprisoned.

The only reason for that person not to kill him was just their former kinship.

While the claw of the stars turned into a red pirate, he slowly decomposed in a cell, slowly crazy...

Sometimes, at night, that person would come to his cell to persuade him to reconsider.

Those voices would cheer him up, but he still refused.

Finally, the man became impatient.

what is his name?

The only trace of reason left in the brain is like a drowning man clutching the only straw.

He remembered.

That person is Ruft Huron.

The people who reformed with him, received training together, served together, and walked through the toughest years of the battle group together.

His brother, his best friend--

Huron told him that his will would soon not belong to him, and he would not be able to control his behavior.

His brother, his own brother, even so did not shake him, no matter how hard Huron made, no matter how hard those voices made.

Many years have passed. In those years, his skin has never experienced sunlight, and his feet have never stepped on abnormal shapes.

He exists in the darkness of nothingness, and only those voices are with him.

His brother would still come to jail him again and again, but the interval between visits was getting longer and longer.

And every time he saw him, he no longer looked like the warrior whom he once called a brother.

Those voices became ubiquitous and deafening, but what they said had no meaning to him. It was just an elegy to block his deceitful words.

He can't feel time, space, or self.

Sometimes, those voices would whisper to him in a convincing tone the horrible acts of his brothers and his brother.

When he sleeps, they will show a picture: blood is flowing on the street, and the children watched in terror at their parents being killed, knowing that they are the next target of the butcher's knives in the hands of those butchers.

In the burning world, millions of souls cried in fear.

And the new prison built for him.

Suddenly, his thoughts plunged into a deeper chaos.

Kandali Kara Harir, are these things shown to you, or are you seeing them with your own eyes?

Then they stood in front of him.

During his imprisonment, his brothers had become completely unrecognizable, and his madness had eroded his memory, and he could not even remember their names.

The once-smooth curved surface of the Star Warrior power armor is now covered with spikes and ridges, and sharp horns stand on the helmet. The skins of those who do not wear the helmet have strange symbols. When they looked at them that day, those voices Become an unprecedented excitement.

When he looked out of the small prison for the last time, he found that the warship that had imprisoned him had also been eroded and changed.

They laughed at him, and his brothers laughed at him like those who have fought with him for countless years.

Then he fought with them, not because of their ridicule, but because of abandoning him for years and months, and locked me aside.

It was not the madness that drove him to pounce on them, and it was not that he wanted to be free, but when they walked him through the corridor full of organs, the instinct of survival kept him dying.

Those voices had already told him what was waiting for him.

Staying in that cold and dark cell forever is much better than his brother, his own brother, and the destination for him.

He hoped he would not remember what happened after that, because madness would confuse all memories of atrocities.

But those voices will keep reminding him and let him experience the horror every second.

"We don't have to do that. That was the greatest moment in your life. It was your new life. You should be proud of it."

The hall was filled with various instruments and devices. The acolytes dressed in black robes murmured prayers in dark language, and poured the burning foul incense on them.

His brothers pressed him on an obsidian base ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ and tied him with a thick iron chain that burned the flesh.

He wrestled with them to the last moment, even though the shackles had been locked, all hope had disappeared, and he was still biting them.

His brother, his own brother, walked up to him and was treating him like an animal to be sacrificed.

"Brother, I have found a way to restore our prosperity and our former glory, but I need your help. Will you help me? Will you help us?"

The man's arm swept across the former Star Claw members in the hall dramatically.

His years of life as a prisoner made his speech ability plummet, but he actually didn't need to use words to answer the other party.

He mobilized every fiber in his body, recalled the long-forgotten memory, then activated the glands in his mouth, and vomited a mass of acid on the right face.

His brother, his own brother, didn't hide from him—the other person still wears the scar to this day.