Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Morse came on deck.

Looking ahead, countless spider-like glass fibers are fixed on several remote-controlled towers with sharp corners on the top, weaving into a huge network in the middle.

A weak and dim sun is restrained in the center of the cocooned network by the power of transcending dimensions. A huge form that can swallow up a corner of this dark city falls asleep in the secondary space, leaving only a crack to penetrate into Ge. Touch the cold light from the upper layer of the ice.

The fate of this star is just like an eternal metaphor for the fate of those who fall into Gomo, that is, it uses its own dying pain to provide the eternal city with huge energy enough to operate until its last trace of energy is exhausted. At the end, he fell into a completely dark space and was no longer noticed.

As they approached the captured star, the black sun suddenly expanded into a huge sphere against the laws of vision, and the flares twisted back and forth like snakes in the rolling clouds. Among the stars orbiting Comoros,

"Which tower are you going to hang him on?" Morse asked. "On the edge, or near the center?"

Victor was about to answer when his helmsman found the two men and consciously ignored Morse's presence: "There is a group of people behind us, Lord Archon. Including a fleet and a group of plunderers."

Victor glanced at Morse to confirm that the craftsman was not ready to take action.

"Where is our Blade Wing fighter team?" Victor said sternly, making a waving gesture as if to include all enemies in his palm, "And there are new natural disasters?"

"Yes, Archon." The helmsman took the order and left.

Not long after, a group of aircraft with blade-like outlines approached their location. Two sets of shattering missiles and poison crystal cannons hung under their sharp scimitar-like wings. In the crystal-carved window, the driver's black Armor is looming.

The artillery fire from both sides and the vast attack network weaved were like a black river of flames flowing in the surging clouds. The crackling burning of the black sun itself was intertwined with the explosions that erupted when the man-made aircraft collapsed. Burned by the heat wave, all forces are accelerating into destruction in the aftermath of the dying star's power.

"It's a nice view," Morse said.

"Is this a joke, Morse?" asked the Eldar Archon.

"You hope it is?"

Victor didn't ask further questions. The power of the Church of the Sun was attracted and dispersed by Konrad Curze, who decided to seize the time. Before the angry Church completely turned its attention back to the location of the Black Sun, the airship quickly approached the tower under the cover of Blade Wing fighters.

These towers are not spiers in the traditional sense, but rather a series of complex and massive ancient structures, made up of thin arched doorways, interconnected cornices, and sharp columns, reflecting the afterglow of the ancient Eldar empire.

Before Victor decided on the specific landing platform, Morse knocked on the deck railing where his arms were pressed to alert Victor to the new situation.

A hazy figure stood alone in the center of a wide platform. The bodysuit composed of red, yellow and blue squares was divided into multiple broken patterns against the background of silver fibers that bound the black sun.

Through visual enhancement equipment, you can see him stepping to the beat of artillery fire, spinning, shaking hands, and dancing lightly with his imaginary dance partner.

"Followers of the Laughing God." Victor frowned in a rare way.

"You seem to be mentally disturbed, right?" Morse commented with great interest. "It seems that someone in the Midnight Gospel Troupe has received a message from Si Gaole again and insists on getting involved in the chaos of Comoros. ”

The spacecraft drew a large arc and turned to the broad platform close to the tower, maintaining its suspension after violent bumps and jitters. The Cabal warriors and the winged Scourge respectively jumped out of the spacecraft to provide multi-dimensional defense for their masters.

No one saw clearly how Morse descended from the Raider airship to the surface of the platform. In short, while Victor was still descending step by step along the rope ladder, Morse had already appeared in front of the colorful Eldar.

"No one wants to dance with you, Master?" Morse asked. "Also, please speak nicely."

The face under the Eldar mask may have stiffened for a moment, but no matter what, he swallowed the first sentence as if nothing had happened.

"Well done, our honorary horn." Avatar bowed to Morse in the arc of a dramatic curtain call. Then with a dexterous flick of his fingers, he pulled out a brand new dance drama invitation card from nowhere. This time the invitation card was exactly the same. Both sides are the side of grief and death.

"New rehearsal?" Morse glanced at it, "I'm going to charge performance fees."

Avatar snapped his fingers, and a string of colorful actors emerged from the tower, including the shadow prophet wearing a black mirror helmet. They ignored the dozens of muzzles raised and the sharp blades hovering above their heads, silent and agile. The ground slid around Morse and Victor, who finally arrived, forming an iridescent circle.

"You are going to hang a prey on the top of the tower," said the clown on the far left. "Although this is very creative," said the second Eldar in counterclockwise order, "but it is not eye-catching enough." The third person explain.

In this order, each Eldar continued the words of the former, passing on their proposals until they were finished. Because the cooperation was particularly skillful, the whole process did not take too much time - Bladewing's fighter planes were still entangled with a group of Sun Church defenders in the distance.

"By adjusting the cosmic flux controlled by the tower, we can hang the projection of your prey in the center of the black sun. In the swirling dim light, the flag of war will hang in the center of Gomo. If this reward can make you Satisfied, can we invite you to the next masquerade?”

"When you send invitations to two people at the same time, it's best to state who you want to participate." Morse raised an eyebrow.

"You two." Avatar came from among the pied elves, and his actors stepped back gracefully on both sides of the troupe leader. “There’s more than one tour, just like there’s more than one night of killing.”

Morse stared at Avatar's smiling face for a while, the power of the spell gradually lighting up and then extinguishing on his transformed robes. After a peek, his expression became intriguing.

There are some structures or beings of life that are not as simple as they appear, Morse always knew this. But the troupe leader provided him with an even more novel example.

"If you still need Bloodhand Kane, I think Konrad Curze will not refuse after weighing the interests. But I hope to take Perturabo to participate in subsequent activities. If you are willing to open the stage in the web channel, Behind the portal, I can participate."

"I'll stay in Gomor," Victor said shortly.

"Of course, of course..." Avatar agreed softly, "Then, I look forward to the day when we meet again in Cordoris, with the honor of being alone."

Victor made a gesture and asked his nightmares and warriors to let the Pied Eldar pass. To the beat of a silent drum, they brought out the dying body of the Bloodling in the airship.

Soon, a clear phantom of a bloody broken body was projected into the center of the black sun crack, gently swaying in the dim light of the background. The symbol of the Church of the Sun was completely desecrated. The corpse was like a bloody flag, showing a symbol of intimidation and fear to all witnesses. It implemented the ruthlessness and coldness of the Eternal City in the most direct way.

Victor looked at the black sun above his head, feeling relieved and growing worry at the same time. While the infinite desire for status in his heart was slightly satisfied, the inevitable uneasiness also flickered in his eyes.

With the help of the power that he should neither possess nor be able to control at this moment, the world of the Dark Eldar has finally reached a turning point. The decisions they make will soon affect the fate of the entire Nether City and even the wider universe. .

Soon, this slight uneasiness turned into a pleasant heartbeat. Asdubal Viktor carefully maintained his calm, sternly warning himself not to fall into the echoes of past depravity, nor to flee blindly from disaster like his weak cousins ​​- the path he chose for himself was enough. Long, so long.