Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Regardless of region, planet, or even humans and demi-humans, every boy has imagined that he is the chosen one.

They saw a great thing, so they first finalized it in the script of life as the starting point of their star-studded road of conquest, and carved it over and over again during the hour-long tossing and turning before going to bed every night. Every detail of the most epic scene in the script.

If there are exceptions in this world, then at least Fafnir Lane is not one of them.

Unlike other boys, even if the fantasies of all boys his age on the Wet were counted, Lan would still stand out with his unusual wishes.

"I will kill Dorn."

Lann fantasized about cleaning his two paired small axes, putting them on his waist, letting his mother hold his hand, and sitting on a brand-new semi-floating iron that he didn't know what it was yet. In the cabin, we followed the tribe to the core of the land of Inwit Yongri, the fortress of Roger Dorn, the current patriarch of the Dorne family.

The iron cabin climbs from the underground to the ground, and crosses the boundary between morning and dusk from the half world of night. It is embraced by the light of the half-extinguished sun into the day, and slides on the smooth ice.

Lan held his hands on the glass window and looked out. The sun was too bright, so he squinted his eyes.

He knew that right here, just a thousand meters below the unfathomable ice surface, a wide underground river was like a blood vessel on the planet, along the boundary between light and darkness, sending warm water to thousands of kilometers. Each branch of the long river provides hundreds of tribes with a living on the water.

River of Life - When people move from one ice cave to another, and pass by this underground river, they will respectfully bend over and caress their chests, praising nature's tolerance and gifts.

The Dorne family once controlled the largest tributary of the River of Life, and Rogal Dorne expanded Dorne's territory to the entire Invite and even to several planets beyond.

Lann thinks this is unfair because Dorn is the bad guy.

His anger came from a simple hatred - he was still in his infancy when he was found by the Rann tribe on the banks of the River of Life. The corpses of two dead men wearing Dornish armor and a woman who was hunted until she was covered with bruises were there. Lie down next to him.

The murderous intention he cultivated in his ignorance towards Rogal Dorn, whom he had never met, came from the simple values ​​of revenge for his biological mother.

However, as many mythical warriors wearing armor fell from the sky, it seemed that many things were changing very quickly. Just as Lann hadn't figured out what was going on, the iron cabin was running from night to day.

One day the leader of the Lann tribe visited Rogal Dorne's fortress, and no one told him how many people their tribe and the Dornish family had killed each other, and no one encouraged him anymore, telling him that Fafni El Rann is the chosen one of the Rann tribe.

Later, the entire tribe moved to the ground together and lived in a strange but comfortable house. His time to practice knife skills was cut in half every day, and the extra time was used to learn sewing and cooking.

Fafnir Lane touched his small axe. The sharp ax blade gave the boy a simple sense of confidence. Today, on the day when his mother said, "The Phalanx is about to set sail," he was finally going to meet Rogal Dorn.

This made him eager to try. After talking to his mother, he ran to the end of the iron cabin with a wider view. Although he was still a boy, his ax could already defeat the less strong adults in the tribe.

The train track twists and turns up and over the snow-capped mountains, and clouds roll past the windows.

Lann breathed a sigh of relief and began to draw pictures on the foggy glass with his fingers without any instruction. Through the clear glass with the water mist wiped off by his fingers, he suddenly saw a huge building, ten meters, twenty meters... Lann couldn't estimate how terrifying and huge that golden-roofed building was, as tall as the snow-capped mountains themselves. things.

Lann was a little confused and didn't understand how humans could build such a tall building. He shrank his neck back, and for a moment he felt that his small self was being protected by the glass of the iron cabin.

Then, driven by the uncontrollable curiosity of childhood, Lan wiped away more fog and soon became immersed in the buildings in front of him.

There was a faint rainbow light floating around the majestic buildings that he had never seen before, which seemed to be some unknown means of protection. The flying iron tools flying back and forth intertwined like a loosely woven sweater net, busily transporting information and supplies.

Among them is a tower that is countless times taller than the Golden Dome Tower, directly leading into the clouds. The air transportation platform unfolds at a level closer to the ground. Countless busy people are like black dots, intersecting with the flying iron machines with wings.

Further up, various conveying machines and closed tracks are connected by cables, like nets cast during fishing.

The huge building rose along the narrowed steel, and the port on the top was an open platform. Lann couldn't estimate its size. It might be dozens of kilometers in diameter. Some flying things fell directly from the sky and stopped at the top of the platform. How they disappeared onto the platform, Lan couldn't see, maybe there was a vertical well there.

Shadows and flickering golden light fell on the overly bright surface of the snow-capped mountains, burning Lann's eyes. He vaguely felt that the river of life and the tower were the same thing, and they also supported the lifeblood of Invite.

But the tower belongs to Dorne.

Why did Dorne build it?

The boy rubbed his eyes and wiped away the water droplets that overflowed from his eyes. In his memory, Inwit, where people lived by hunting and trading, seemed to have been turned upside down.

He is the Chosen One, and he is going to kill Rogal Dorn.

Lann repeated to himself what he had said a thousand times, touching his axe, a hole suddenly appeared in his heart, a hole that needed to be warmed by new light.

Lann heard a chuckle, which was the air snorting from the nasal cavity, like a prey in the snow mocking a failed trap.

He heard himself speaking and found himself turning around: "Why are you laughing!"

This dark-haired man wearing a felt hat and a dark brown fur coat with a string of animal teeth and bone fragments on the edge of his clothes had been sitting here for a while.

He looked very strange. This strangeness not only came from the fact that the two parties did not know each other, but also came from a sense of alienation between people. He was sitting alone at the end of the carriage, wearing different clothes from others, and his appearance seemed to be somewhat different. Surrounding him was an air that did not belong to Invite.

Lann could find nothing in his dark eyes, which were also hollows, a cold hollow where a satiated predator drew light.

"I saw you said you wanted to kill Rogal Dorn," the black-haired man clicked his lips, "You said it with a tight mouth."

"I..." Lann closed his mouth, panicking that he might have done something wrong. What if this guy is from the Dorne family?

"Don't worry." The black-haired man said in a cold tone. His accurate grasp of Lann's psychology made the boy begin to wonder whether the mind-reading ability in Inwit's fairy tales really existed in this world. "I'm not a Dornish, and I won't reveal today's conversation."

"I don't believe you." Lan said firmly.

The man blinked. "Oh," he said, unexpectedly falling silent.

The loner's reticence made Lann uncomfortable. He looked at the other person awkwardly, unsure if he had made him angry. Soon he confirmed that the man's attention had completely left him and fell into a mysterious void. Lann breathed a sigh of relief.

This silence lasted until Fafnir Lane's growing shame no longer supported him in continuing to stand next to the black-haired man and look out the window. He hurried away and returned to the section of the train that belonged to the representatives of the Rann tribe.

Not long after, the track that undulated with the snow-capped mountains, together with countless other railway tracks, fell under the most glorious fortress of Inwit like a tributary pouring into the main trunk.

Lann was told that they would all transfer to a transport vehicle under the fortress of Rogal Dorn and go to the shadow of the mountain called the Phalanx. As a representative of the Lann tribe, they would visit the great recovery of the Phalanx and witness the great revival of the Phalanx. How Witt entered a new era.

The boy didn't know what the "mountain array" was. Maybe that's a word everyone is mentioning lately, spaceship, he thought.

He jumped off the train's pedals, and his tribe gathered around him to wait for the next step. Lan touched his pair of axes and thought of the strange man he saw at the back of the car just now.

He soon saw him again.

This started with the soldiers clearing the way in advance after receiving the order. They cleared the road for others to allow the approach of an iron-gray transport vehicle that reflected a deep silver light.

An astonishingly tall giant got out of the transport truck. His stern expression concealed his extraordinary appearance. Lan held his breath and looked up at the men of steel who were probably three or four taller than him, his upper and lower teeth grinding with tension.

The giant walked to the side of the train, followed by his guards. The five warriors wore armor decorated with yellow and black stripes, and their iron boots collided heavily on the cleaned and re-poured concrete. The powerful stamping sound echoed in Lann's young heart.

When these huge iron armors passed by the boy, he realized so clearly for the first time how the word power manifested itself in reality.

"How's it going, Morse?" asked the giant, using the Gothic language that had recently been adopted throughout Inwit. Lann worked hard to apply what he learned about the language and identify their words.

"The route design is good, and the train itself is of good quality. Well done, Perturabo - yes, I decided to praise you."

The black-haired weirdo's smile appeared on his pale face, and his tone was so different that Lann wondered if he and the person he met in the car were the same person. The guy now sounds lazy and casual, with a smile lurking in his every syllable, like some kind of animal that sleeps through the winter, only becoming alive enough in the presence of the right season or person.

"Okay." The giant nodded, "I will continue to improve the drawings."

The black-haired weirdo stepped onto the ground. Although he looked much shorter than the giants and even the giant's guards, he undoubtedly found a balance with these tall humans in this relationship. Lann was a little envious of this scene.

Then, there was an exaggerated commotion in the crowd, and many people inhaled together, reminding Lan of the way a blizzard tore off the roof. Thanks to the fact that he squeezed into the front row at some point, he didn't have to be dragged around by people.

It was still an iron-gray transport vehicle, and four yellow-armored soldiers walked out of it first.

The armor of these men is not uniform. Two men have rivets on their shoulder pads, and one man has a burqa hanging from his armor. There is no doubt, however, that their uniformity of movement and formidable silence, and of course the longer-than-mortal weapons they carry, give the warriors an almost divine majesty.

Then, another extremely tall giant was greeted and guarded by the yellow-armored warriors, and placed his majestic body under the sun.

The giant's white hair was short and neat, and his light-colored eyes shone like ice and snow on the top of the mountains. Lann caught the giant's gaze from bottom to top, from which he was struck by a cold and inevitable firm aftermath. Scratch the mind. His body instantly fell into the same chill as a cold night, as if it had been penetrated by wind, snow or lightning.

This giant - this combination of frost and gold, he is the character chosen by God. No, he can only be chosen by a person who is farther away than the sky of Inwit and closer to the origin and end of all things. The Eternal One.

The first giant nodded to the second giant. "Ready?"

"Climb the mountain formation and check the last round." The white-haired giant said.

"You can choose to believe it or not," the black-haired man said, "You will succeed. But if you must check it twenty more times and calculate the data forty times, I have no objection. Roger Dorn."

Roger Dorn. The name struck Fafnir Lane instantly. Is this the person he swore to kill?

At this moment, all the changes in Fafnir Lane's life - the good ones - rumbled past the boy's eyes, and the background of all scenes contained the image of this incomparably great giant. An angular face and eyes as clear as cold crystal stones.

This tall giant brought all changes and sublimations to Invite. Everything they have is due to him.

He tried to remember how his people had told him about his biological mother's death, and how his current mother had firmly declared that she would not hand him over to appease the anger of the Dornish people. Deep down in his heart, however, his admiration for Donne continued to grow. The conflicting emotions tore apart the boy's young mind.

"Rogal Dorn." He muttered the combination of words in a low voice, unsure of how much hatred remained in it.

Donne heard him, and his eyes glanced down, but he didn't pay any more attention. The impulse generated by being ignored overwhelmed Lann's will, and he suddenly shouted: "I want to kill you!"

Rogal Dorn's gaze returned, and Lan began to gasp. Yet part of him still took pleasure in being looked at.

"Your name," Dorn said to him.

"Fafnir."

"Lan." The weirdo in black robe added his last name.

Lan En's adoptive mother pushed through the crowd and rushed to his side to kneel down for him, but a ray of golden light held up her knees. This ray of light swept through the scene, forcing everyone to fall into silence.

"Lan," Dorn said, "the non-threatening family has surrendered." He said the words that were close to insult in the most objective tone.

"Cicero, Aeolus, lay down your arms."

The two soldiers drew back their guns.

"Why do you want to kill me?" Dorn asked calmly, "Tell me how you are dissatisfied with my rule."

"You did well, and we thank you," Lann said, his heart beating too fast to count, "but the Dornish family killed my mother."

"who is she?"

"I don't know," Lane replied.

Another giant walked up to Dorne: "There is no need to reflect on whether there is something wrong with your rule, brother. Apparently there is no wave of resistance among your citizens."

"No boy can hate without being incited," Dorn replied, still looking at Lan.

"There is no longer an echo of the voice of hatred in his heart," the black-haired weirdo said, cruelly peeling off the disguise in Fafnir Lane's heart, "He just wants to attract you. Let you hear him."

"You're crying, Lann," Dawn said. "what do you want?"

Lane was speechless. Tears frozen into ice.

"I will remember you," Donne said, no longer lingering.

The giants, their guards, and the black-haired weirdo returned to the transport truck one after another.

It wasn't until they completely disappeared in front of the crowd that the golden light lifted the blockade. Lane's mother hugged him and held him tight.

Lann stood numbly. Looking past his mother's hair, he saw a circle of light gradually lighting up on the shadow in the sky.

I am the false chosen one. Lan thought. The tribe lied to me.

And Roger Dorn. He chose the sky.

——

"It's running normally, I mean, everything is running normally." Morse listened to the sound of the mountain formation, opened his eyes, and gave the two busy giants a clear answer.

They nervously raised their heads from the countless flowing data, glanced at each other, and both breathed a sigh of relief.

"We have revived the Mountain Formation." Perturabo said. This grand project made the Iron Lord equally happy, although at least half of this joy came from the fact that he had obtained almost all the drawings and data of the Mountain Formation.

Morse wouldn't be surprised if he ordered Olympia to build its own Phalanx within ten minutes of returning to the Iron-Blooded.

"Thank you, brother." Dawn smiled. "This will be my gift to the Emperor."

"Then remember to remove your daily necessities from here before giving gifts." Perturabo said, "For example, your little blanket."

"Oh, I think you can keep it," Morse said. "I bet the Emperor will give it to you after receiving the gift. Why go to the trouble of leaving and taking the items you need, such as a rug."

Donne didn't answer.

Since Perturabo discovered Dorn's rug, he finally confirmed that there was something shy in the world that could trigger the stone.

"Set sail, then," said Perturabo. "I will continue on to Ultramar. What about you?"

Dorn was about to speak. The next moment, a bunch of cannonballs came from an unknown distance and drifted in a very strange way. Their heads were flying everywhere, accompanied by a large number of sparks and oily smoke, which tickled the void shield outside. .

Although these inexplicable gadgets caused no harm, Dawn still looked up cautiously. At the same time, a sense of crisis that was extremely rare for Rogal Dorn's rationality was spreading deep in the heart of the White-haired Primarch.