Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

At the end of the 30th millennium of human chronology, the diluted, copied and re-cultured blood cells of the Primarch Konrad Curze turned into a bloody rain, following Irma The sky fire brought by the sub-star poured on the land of Gemo, an important port of the Ancient Spirit Empire.

A drop of blood rain was born from the damaged scar in the sky, and was caught by the seam of the spire on the top floor of the Dark City. Then it flew out of the eaves according to gravity, and continued to fall towards the purple-black city.

Its curved surface reflects the outer wall of the high-rise tower that was melted by the intense heat. In the gap in the outer wall, half of the face of the dead Eldar and the black and green helmet were melted to the point where the skin and flesh were connected to the gold and iron, and the remaining half of the skull's face was , you can vaguely see the panic in the last moment of your life.

The ornate sword inlaid with opal and turquoise in his hand was also pierced into the torso of another of his kind, which was evidence of his crime.

The blood rain continued to fall, and the water-red surface reflected the brilliant golden and white firelight, painted with melted broken glass, and charred wooden window lattice. Next to it, a torn off warrior arm fell side by side with it until the arm fell on a spike-like horizontal flagpole protruding from a hall.

This is also a blood-stained hand, a hand punished by heavenly fire.

The raindrops passed through many modalities on the top floor of Gemo and entered the upper level of Gemo. The nobles and the church once controlled this prosperous and luxurious area and controlled the trade area of ​​the old empire. Its perfectly curved surface rolls past ruined banquets, ruined costumes and mysterious toppled statues.

As it passed a tangled ramp of twisted metal and half-collapsed masonry, two standing figures flashed across its surface.

A tall weirdo wearing a midnight lightning robe and a pale Eldar wearing black armor stood side by side at the edge of the precarious dark hall, staring blankly at the rain of blood from the sky to the ground.

And the raindrops just fall, and fall, until they reach the lower level of Kama.

This port and labyrinth is full of the old glory abandoned by the Eldar. Whether it is the dark structure shrouded in fog inside or the fleets and aircraft parked on the edge, they are all burned by the scorching burning matter brought by the star Ilmea. , amidst the harassment of demons.

The black sun falls, and violence is destroyed by greater violence. Every Eldar who died here had in their blood the grave sin that was brewing the Great Fall.

The bloody rain witnessed one desperate battle after another: Eldar and demons, demons and demons, Eldar and Eldar.

They were bleeding and their skin was connected to the air.

The blood rain waits for its chance, letting air currents and gravity take it to that final option, just like other raindrops do.

Snapped. Raindrops fell on the head of a haggard Eldar, sliding along the pointed ears and down the side of the neck. The Eldar who had just finished the battle wiped it away, bringing this drop of rain and more blood rain into the shoulder wound.

The blood rain penetrates deeply into the blood circulation, and a large number of new pairings are quickly embedded in the multi-helical gene chain. This violent tampering quickly extended from the blood to the muscles, bones and brain.

The Eldar's eyelids were trembling, and his eyes were constantly switching between a world of blood red and strange hallucinations. He screamed and fell to his knees. His bone cells were on the verge of collapse, his skin became pitch black, and his hair was dyed pale every inch.

Eventually, after a series of unknown genetic rearrangements, his condition was fortunately stabilized.

When he looked at the world in front of him again, he felt that everyone was exuding the unbearable stench of blood and the smell of sin that deserved punishment.

This smell also existed in his own body, filling him with a deep hatred for his past actions and wishing he could die.

At the same time, the image of a noble and clean Midnight King was deeply ingrained in his fantasy. Every time he thought about it, he wished he could kneel down and offer a gift to the king on the spot, offering a bloody flag to cleanse his sins, and transform into a sinless person from then on.

——

"Hexakaris calls your idea a rare work of genius," Victor said, his left hand holding his aching neck, his voice hoarse. "This potion allows the Eldar to unconditionally devote their body and mind. Here you go. He mentioned that this blood medicine has side effects, that is, users will have a preference for skinning, but I immediately knew that this was exactly the effect you wanted..."

He put down his left hand, turned his head and glanced at Conrad Coates, who was pursed lips and staring at the rain of blood, and continued to narrate.

"I asked him to improve this potion. Surprisingly, he said he was not sure how far he could go, but many directions for improvement were obvious. Perhaps you should have asked these people who have been steeped in flesh and blood art for thousands of years. Old Haemon, instead of studying alone, Conrad."

Conrad Coates snorted and refused to admit that he was not good at his studies.

For an apprentice on the path of flesh and blood art, his learning time is indeed too short, and two-thirds of his energy is spent on how to resist the old blood devil.

"What happens next?" he asked softly, his voice low enough for Victor to just hear. "What else did you do?"

"Hexakaris flipped through his ancient human skin classics, and through a large number of experiments, he improved the theoretical survival rate of potion users, lowered the conditions for potion use, and based on your blood, he cultivated a large number of next-generation potion-specific drugs. Blood cells. Now, just a few drops of your blood and the appropriate nutrient solution can quickly produce a large amount of blood medicine. This is the technical basis of this blood rain."

He thought for a while and added: "Another new side effect is that the aroma of the blood potion has increased. I think you don't mind."

Kurtz stretched out his hand, and a few drops of rainwater drifted into his hand, accumulating in the depression formed by the palm prints. He sniffed it and licked the blood into his mouth, tasting the taste of the improved potion now.

"Where does this water come from?"

"A liquid planet. The process was not easy, and I got help. The man named Morse, and the leader of the Piedmont Troupe, they control power beyond imagination." Victor said. He has been busy dealing with the docking between the liquid planet and Gemo in recent days. It was Morse's idea to borrow the dimensional rift of the black sun.

Curze's silence became long, and complex light flashed in his oversized black pupils.

"If they survive the transformation of the blood rain..." he said slowly, each word becoming sour and stinging between his lips and teeth, "then they are half innocent; when they receive my order , complete the blood flag ceremony..."

His stomach contracted heavily, and he reluctantly admitted the fact: "Then their sins will be temporarily cleansed. I will not violate the laws I made myself."

It was strange that although destroying Gemo made him excited and full of enthusiasm, when he learned that he did not have to judge a world, he inexplicably felt that an innate burden was lifted from his shoulders.

The corners of Victor's mouth slightly raised, barely forming a bitter smile. There is still unfulfilled ambition deep in his eyes, but in the end everything must turn to regretful relief.

"This is your territory," he said, "You are already the overlord of Gemo. After tonight, at least tens of thousands of Dark Eldar will have the honor to kneel at your feet, begging crazily for the chance to wash away their sins. Another Tens of millions of spiritual people will recognize your power again and crawl under your throne from now on."

"What about you?" Kurtz turned his head, "You gave up?"

"Oh, my friend..." Victor's voice was like a heavy sigh, and his fingers trembled slightly, revealing a rare fear. Despite this, there was still a flash of determination on his face. "I am still a guilty person according to your rules, right?"

He spread his right hand, holding a miniature test tube. The bright red blood sloshed in the tube and collided with the transparent tube wall.

"Do you think I have any luck surviving the blood potion?" Victor asked.

Conrad Coates focused his eyes on the potion and shook his head, not knowing what he wanted to deny.

Victor smashed the test tube, the glass exploded, and the fragments mixed with blood pricked into his palm. Sweat immediately covered his forehead, and his pale face became like a piece of parchment about to be broken.

Soon, his body began to twist and deform uncannily, like candle wax gradually dissolving in front of a blazing flame. His skin first lost its color, and then slowly became as transparent as black crystal. Finally, his armor crashed to the ground. Asdúbal Victor turned into a pool of gray plasma, flowing silently on the ground.

Curze stared closely at the pool of blood, as if searching for Victor's shadow in it. His expression lingered on confusion about this method of destruction.

He slowly looked away from the blood, closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of blood raining down.

The rain falls on the heads of the nobles, on the heads of the poor, on the heads of the guilty, and on the heads of the innocent.

A few drops of blood were swept up by the airflow, wetting Conrad Coates' eyebrows, and dripped down his cheeks as his facial muscles trembled.

"I don't need to be an overlord." The Blood Marquis said calmly and clearly to the rain. "I will definitely leave Commorragh, return to the Human Empire, and participate in the expedition. At that time, I will definitely need an escrow to serve as the royal court. The sub-leader, governs this dark city.”

"From another perspective, the relationship between the overlord and the Eldar he rules is too secular, which will also...affect the fairness of the trial. If Gemo must be kept, I will climb to a higher level. Perhaps, the name of Dark Muse would be the best choice..."

"Then, the only person qualified to rule Gemo for me is Victor, right? Since he knows me so well, he should have expected that I would give him the actual right to rule Gemo."

"Victor will not allow himself to die like this... He must have planned his way back from the gate of hell. Even if he has a long-term plan, I have not yet been able to see it. He left me a genetically destroyed body. , Ashes to dust, dust to dust, it seems that he will never be reborn, but I have to believe that he will return to the world in some incredible way."

He opened his eyes and looked around.

"No matter who will bring his carefully arranged resurrection plan, now is the time for you to step from behind the scenes to the front. The secrets in the shadows will eventually be revealed."

Curze's voice echoed in the half-ruined hall and the rain curtain, with a calm expression. He waited for more than ten seconds, then rubbed the inside of his lower lip with his teeth, bringing out a trace of blood.

"Come out, there is no point in hiding in the shadows."

Before his nails scratched the palm of his hand, the Pied Eldar hurried into the room from the roof, looking around hurriedly: "Sorry, sorry, you are here... Where is Victor? He's dead? So soon?"

"Avatar!" Curze growled angrily, "Do what you have to do!"

"First of all, I'm not the Avatar. I actually have my own name, but I guess you're not in the mood to hear it now..." The real troupe leader gasped rapidly, obviously he had just run all the way from a distance, "Cough , that's it, don't rush it, we do have a resurrection ritual that can be used in this situation. You also know that this pile of residue can't be resurrected normally, right? Even the genes are completely destroyed, so we have to use something special. method."

"For resurrection, we have to find someone to pay for him, more blood, more dark power! You are already in Gemo, there is always no shortage of these things, and then we can hold a resurrection ceremony for him..."

Curze stared at the trouper's mask until the Harlequin began to try to lean back. He looked away.

"Give me an order to the entire Gemo," the Blood Marquis said. "Tonight, I hope to hold a thorough bloody ceremony in Gemo. All members of the royal court who are willing to obey me, I hope they will go as far as possible." Kill their guilty enemies. If you like, you can also offer children who are not guilty of serious crimes to thank me for my justice and mercy. I will train them and select a new batch of potential Night Ghosts."

He thought for a while and named the ceremony: "From now on, this ceremony will be held once a year. I named it, Death Midnight."

Above them, a bright flash of light suddenly lit up on the top floor of Gemo, and the light shone throughout the entire city in an instant. Curze looked up.

When the light gradually weakened, the bodies of the two giants, magnified countless times, were reflected in the entire sky, and the outcome of the battle between the two was already clear.

A majestic colossus, half of its face made of metal shining with cold luster, and half of its face covered with lifelike skin, raised its giant hammer high and struck the giant demon that fell to the ground.

The demon's body was huge and deformed, with a hellish current storm surging around it. It struggled to break away from the golden runes wrapped around its body, and its metal wings were broken in half in the process of breaking free.

The metal half of the colossus reflects a cold and decisive light, while the skin half is taut to outline a perfect outline. Before the thunderous hammer hit the demon's illuminated demon skin, the runes condensed into ropes were finally broken and scattered like golden fly ash.

Vastor felt that what he was pursuing could not be obtained today. He couldn't help but angrily cursed this damn trap, opened a purple-black spiral in the air, and quickly escaped into the abyss behind him before being banished.

The phantom of the steel colossus picked up the concept of a small part of the Chaos Demigod remaining here that was forcibly torn off by the golden rune chain, and stood still, seemingly struck by some unknown soul.

Soon, this god-like image gradually weakened, the light faded, and the sky returned to its inherent darkness.

Curze lowered his head and tried to smile, but failed.

"Don't delay," he said to the troupe leader who was still looking up at the battle above. "The light has passed. Now, let the midnight of death begin."