Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

In this gorgeous hall filled with treasures, warm and ecstatic cheers erupted from time to time under the gauze lamp that imitated the black sun, like drums reverberating in thunder and black wings splitting the night sky. The wind music played by huge instruments with indistinguishable materials shrilled the eardrums of the pointed ears of the visitors at the banquet amid the din of the crowd.

Occasionally, when the music dies down, the dancers and slaves present the dual extremes of lightness and clumsiness to the guests, presenting spiritual aesthetics and materiality among the clattering cups, plates, knives, forks and spoons. enjoyment. Slender, feathered slave gladiators impromptuly fought between the wide gaps between tables, biting each other and using long hooked sticks to pull out the beating hearts of their opponents.

These multiple perceptions satisfy all the guests' fantasies about high power. Even if they live in the muddy streets and turbid poisonous water of the lower level of Gomo, only when the dim twilight of the black sun accidentally passes by can they dodge and ignore the glory of the upper level. Even a small noble can enjoy a supreme dream moment in this large banquet.

"I invite you to enjoy yourself, my guests! Enjoy the sunshine of the sect! It is a complete feast, a declaration of prosperity and harvest! First, before it all begins, come and drink our wine, drink our fire! "

"A social banquet." A low voice sounded next to Conrad Coates, and a plate of delicacies made from precious echinoderms was handed to Coze's hand respectfully.

This is exactly the identity Victor has chosen today - an unknown servant of the Haemonculus who has undergone facial modification; there are few things that this former little slave cares about, and false dignity is not one of them.

"Of course, of course," Conrad replied nonchalantly. He should have responded more to Victor's words, such as one or two oblique sarcasm or a soft and cold curse, but the Blood Marquis's eyes always fell on the other end of the banquet hall.

"Who is that, the Blood Marquis?" Asdubal Victor noticed something strange about him.

"I'll go take a look." Conrad stood up quietly, his huge body sliding into the deep shadow.

He drifted quietly through the gaps between the revelers and suddenly stepped into a burning galaxy.

Countless ships in deep space are like Leviathan shuttles between the stars. In the interstellar dust and meteorite belts, they compose a soul-stirring symphony with deadly and cold firepower. The light of the naval gun was cold and silent, and the dazzling beams of light streaked across the dark universe, each one a symbol of destruction and creation.

A term suddenly jumped into Conrad Coates' mind. Farr. he thinks. This naval battle took place in Phar, and the participants were...

The omen of a moment passed quickly, and the bloody Marquis who grew up in the night was thrown back to the time and space where his body was. He himself was stiff and unable to speak, his knees were strangely weak, and his heart throbbed as if a hard and slender diamond carving was piercing his flesh and blood.

In this moment of powerlessness, he was almost defeated by the loss of control over his own situation. Fear and self-loathing rose rapidly in his limbs and bones, like a deep and dark nightmare, and part of his brain was on edge. Yelling to force him to respond.

In the next moment, he gritted his teeth and ordered his body not to betray his will in such a cowardly manner.

Konrad Coates licked his lips, spat out the black hair bitten in his mouth, and re-observed the banquet scene that changed in one of his uncontrollable breath-holdings. He saw that the secret transactions of banquet customs had begun to take place in many places, just like autumn leaves always falling into the mud when the season comes.

In a corner of the banquet hall, he saw the steel giant again.

While the entire world descends into a monstrous orgy, the giant displays an utter indifference to the situation. He didn't care about proving that he didn't belong here.

However, when Conrad Coates saw the remaining half of his face, he was struck by a... no matter how complicated the words were, it could not be described.

There is always a steady but irresistible light in the mechanical soul, so stable, so sure of victory, opposite yet similar to himself, charming enough yet disgusting to him.

Yes, Perturabo. He recognized him, or his handwriting, his work, his mechanical creation, who knew what that machine was?

In the fragments of fantasy and the scorching flames of destruction, in the collapsed ancient stone pillars, the collapsed halls and the slaughtered world of light, in another story in which Perturabo never arrived in Youdu Gomor, Kang Rad Curze got to know this gloomy and twisted king, the arrogant and sensitive general, and the traitor who defeated the galaxy.

Perturabo.

After decades of hard growth and long torture, after growing up longing for and laughing at the visions and prophecies given to him by fate, after waiting for him to be separated from the entire human world as if in two realms, suddenly, at this moment , he was reconnected with the world, and his blood flowed through his veins.

"The city will be torn apart," Conrad murmured in a low voice, his pale fingers pushing aside the Eldar blocking the way. "Beasts will roam the spires, and when fate whips the dark sun, the dead will cry out for mercy. . And I'm going to stand, stand, stand and watch this happen."

What is Perturabo doing here? he thinks. Is he loyal to the false emperor, or does he succumb to ignorance, or is he still ignorant of the truth of the world?

Conrad Coates smiled and walked around behind the steel thing. A rare interest was leading him to do something unusual. He wanted to grab the iron doll's shoulders from behind and whisper the name Iron Warrior from the side of his radio device...

A bolt of lightning suddenly struck into the hall, directly breaking the high-hanging black sun imitation lamp. Blood-red smoke and azure brilliance erupted with great courage and artistry among the Eldar who immediately grasped their weapons and prepared for war, splashing dazzling light into the entire hall.

Conrad Coates angrily dusted off the crystal sequins and smoky powder on his head, and pulled off a pink ribbon hanging on his shoulder that was worse than damn Willis. The only thing that could comfort him was these inorganic things. The object was not stained with alien blood.

The attack, which was not an attack, spoiled all his spirits and made him abandon the idea of ​​communicating with Perturabo now.

He retreated into the darkness and quietly watched a slender figure wearing a two-color red and blue plaid tight-fitting camouflage uniform jump from above the blown-up black sun lamp, and fall lightly into the center of the hall, with the toes of his shoes touching the ground. The top of the light stand.

"Good evening, blood relatives." The strange voice of the Eldar was as melodious as a bird's song. "I am honored to see that you are willing to take time to watch the first performance of our troupe. The prelude to the doomsday has been cut on the thread of life, and we are here today. The play is a re-enactment of a legend that everyone knows... No, no, dear blood relatives, please don’t point the sharp tip of the poisonous crystal at my heart. Except for a few necessary assistants, we will not contribute a single cent to my heart. Please ask for it.”

The bone-white masks of the Eldar gradually turned towards the direction of Conrad Curze and the Iron Giant.

Two cards fell from the sky, floating into the shadows like falling flowers. One of them was caught by the missing finger of the mechanical giant, and the other fell into the pocket of Xue Hou's chest.

Conrad hummed and took out the card from his pocket. There is an afterimage of an old god painted on the card, with gold and red intertwined, a pointed helmet covering his face, his body like flowing fire, and full of anger.

Keiramensha, Kane.