Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul
Chapter 295 The unknown silence
Fulgrim noticed that Konrad Curze's unique eyes covered in deep black seemed to be staring at the side of his face.
He knew that it was covered with a brown-black scar that tarnished his perfect appearance, just like the decaying weeds in the cracks on marble. Just this trace was enough to transform all the flawlessness into the strengthening and strengthening of this flaw. protrude.
Why is Conrad looking there?
After that, his slightly sluggish mind recalled the note he had written in his mind for Conrad Coates—a brother with an extremely serious paranoia about cleanliness.
These notes in Chemos were scattered into two jumping fragments, and then shook together in the next blink of an eye, transforming into a belated conclusion: the Eighth Primarch did not like the dirt on his face.
He felt ridiculous ridicule at his own slowness and distraction. This was not the reaction speed a Primarch should have, let alone the elegance of the purple phoenix surrounded by the Emperor's Children, the Lord of the Third Legion. But a weak current swept over his hand, making his throat sink into fatigue, preventing him from making any more movements.
Through the stain on his face, his strength and soul seemed to be passing away quietly. From this moment in the present, it has been sweeping towards his past, crushing every glorious moment he had ever had and hiding behind it. The flaws are nakedly, even excessively, coldly pulled onto the table.
"Conrad..." Fulgrim moved his lips, unable to say more.
Conrad Coates watched for a few seconds, the time becoming both endless and short in his sight. Then, his pale fingers reached into the tool bag and moved some small metal utensils that were in the way, letting the blades and tweezers collide lightly.
He took out a folded clean handkerchief, held a corner, let it fall freely, and covered Fulgrim's knees. Then, he took off the black and blue velvet cloak he wore today, threw it on the deck next to Fulgrim, and then sat on the ground with Fulgrim.
"How?" he asked. "What did your pharmacist say in his defense? Tell us?"
Fulgrim pressed his forehead, rested for a moment, then picked up the pure white silk handkerchief, and used it to carefully wipe the blood off his face, "He blamed your pharmacist Hexakai for the matter. On Rhys.”
"Hexakeris?" Conrad Coates grinned, "That old guy is indeed not a good guy. I wanted to kill him a few months ago. So, why don't you believe Fabius?" ·Bayer?”
He straightened his bent legs outwards.
Unlike other Primarchs who followed the Roman customs in Olympia, the Lord of the Night was still obsessed with covering every inch of his skin as much as possible, even in the bright sunshine of Lokos. This is not just due to being unaccustomed to light.
Old scars all over the body. This was the mark he really needed to cover.
"What flaws has he exposed, brother? Let me guess, what blasphemies he has committed? What prohibitions he has broken, what materials he has used..."
Conrad asked softly, using sharp words to provoke the cracks in Fulgrim's heart.
"A Terran genetic son who I thought was dead, he..." Fulgrim reluctantly took a breath of air, and now, the hollow pain of loss came from the part of his hand that held the handkerchief. , as if the skin there is withering, breaking, and falling off the powder and residue belonging to the wings.
"Not dead." Kurtz followed up with what he couldn't say. "It's not considered alive either. A walking corpse, with its will trapped in a cage of flesh and blood, destined to struggle in the breath of decay for thousands of years."
He didn't hesitate to add the most poignant words to his answer, and a part of him did feel a sense of relief, but it was contempt for Fulgrim, another man who didn't belong to this galaxy. Facing the dazed Primarch beside him, Konrad Curze only felt a sense of trance and perversion.
He also had a day in the position of preacher, which is enough to show that the world is always tossing and turning in varying degrees of absurdity, both good and bad. If possible, he hoped to leave this drudgery to Perturabo, who didn't know where he was at this time.
"After being late for a long time, you suddenly realized that you swung your sword and cut off the blood-stained thread." Coze said, "I will live up to your heart and the emperor's will. "
Fulgrim's lips twitched, and his absent-minded amethyst eyes gradually regained their vitality.
He still had a lot to do and no more retreat to waste in regret.
"You are a true seer, Konrad," Fulgrim whispered back. "You have seen it all."
"Not everything, Fulgrim. What I saw was only the fragment of a fleeting moment, the reflection of a fleeting memory; it was not a prophecy, but a dark drama written by a poorly constructed narrator, reflecting half-truths and half-truths. A false profile." Curze stared into Fulgrim's eyes.
"Do you know how many situations are consistent with Lycaon?" Fulgrim asked.
"Only Fabius himself knows what is going on here."
"What happens next?" Fulgrim asked.
"Hmph..." Cozz spread his palms and traced his palm prints with his eyes, like a master of mysticism who has been immersed in palm print divination for many years, "You have become more depraved than me, my beloved brother."
When he finished speaking, he didn't pronounce another syllable.
"I understand." Fulgrim said, "I'm sorry to ask you to accompany me on such a trip. I have ordered Akulduna to destroy Fabius Bayer's current research results and punish him. Keep a close eye on them.”
"You didn't ask whether it was Hexakaris who did something good. I'm full of comfort, Fulgrim." Curze waved his hand, "How are you going to deal with Bair?"
"You are the condemning judge, Conrad. Do you think there will still be a day when he can pay for his sins?"
"The last time someone asked me this question was the Fire Dragon Lord Vulkan. At that time, I used the empire's laws against pirates to clarify the prison sentences for criminals, and used them as a reference plan to inform the leaders of the 18th Legion. "
"However, the Astartes are a class independent of the rules. Regardless of ethics and morals, only the laws of the Empire; the Space Marines are neither the perpetrators of crimes, nor can they assume the position of victims."
"If both parties are regarded as nobles, Fabius Bayer can even be exempted. If both are regarded as civilians, the pharmacist deserves death."
Coze bit his lip and licked away a trace of the blood to offset the physical pain caused by the prophetic vision that had just flashed before his eyes as it rolled through his mind.
Another messy and broken foreshadowing. Buzzing flies, dim twilight, rotten and transparent curtains. He has long been used to it.
"So, cough," he coughed to dispel the itch in his throat, "I still have to hand over the power of judgment to you. This is your legion, Fulgrim."
Fulgrim spread out the handkerchief.
"I understand," he said, "that he will not be forgiven. My blind sympathy."
He braced his knees, stood up, and held out his hand to Curze. Then, he suddenly remembered something, wiped his hand on his sleeve, and stretched out his hand again.
"I'm glad I got the chance to discover the truth before future mistakes came. I was named Phoenix, and the Phoenix must learn how to rise from ashes and fire."
Curze grabbed Fulgrim's hand and let Fulgrim pull him up. "May fate surrender to you, Phoenix."
He tossed his hanging black hair aside his face indifferently: "Without any other questions, I returned to the surface. The current mortal competition should be archery, and I look forward to their fast arrows hitting each other's targets." "
"Goodbye, Conrad. I have to take care of the follow-up of this matter. The hatch on deck seven is still open. You can return directly to the transport plane."
Konrad Curze and Fulgrim nodded goodbye, turned a corner, and immediately let out a long silent sigh of relief.
He was about to wrap the cloak tightly around himself when he remembered that the cloak was not only forgotten in the corridor, but also stained with dust that might not have been washed away from the interior of the Emperor's Children's ship. More importantly, he still had to fight with Fulgrim. Mu explained the reason for his return, which made him even more hesitant to go.
Pulling a brother back from his lost state is beyond the psychological limits of what Conrad Coates can bear - he should be the dramatic actor playing the man whose mind is not his, no matter how bad it is, He is just a wandering soul in a mysterious alley at midnight.
When other Primarchs are in deep weakness and hesitation, become the other party's relyer?
Damn the false emperor, he should call Ferus here and let him deal with this trouble that belongs to him!
He turned around the second corridor, his pace gradually quickening.
Even though Fabius Bile was telling lies, he did need to return and ask if it was Hexacherius who injected the Emperor's son Telemanon with the heartbreaking elixir. Konrad Curze could not rule out the possibility that the old Haemonculus, well versed in the treacherous paths of the curse, had deliberately drawn attention to the apothecary in advance.
This is indeed helpful to the current situation, but the Blood Marquis will never allow his subjects to deceive their superiors and act privately.
At the last moment when Konrad Coates turned into the third corridor and boarded the transport plane, and the door was about to close, he saw an ordinary servitor in a gray robe quietly moving from another transport plane that had arrived here. He slid out of the boat and headed towards the depths of the ship to the set target location.
——
"My lord, aren't you on board the flagship?" Nefertari adjusted the position of the communication headset in her pointed ears.
The design of mortal equipment always conflicts with their body structure in many details. For the sake of their majesty, no, this honorific is within the territory of the human empire and unfortunately belongs to the father of the Lord of the Royal Court. She can only reluctantly The next best thing was to call Conrad Coates "my lord."
"Father is currently accompanying the third Primarch Fulgrim to the fleet of the Emperor's Children." At the other end of the communication array, the soldier who answered the inquiry replied, "Is it an urgent matter? Japanese?"
Nefertari weighed the importance of her genes being stolen, and after a brief thought, she immediately decided to leave the matter to the Night Ghost Blood Marquis. She must not make arbitrary decisions.
"Yes." She said, "Then, please transfer me to the Emperor's Children's ship. Thank you very much."
The soldier didn't ask any further questions. "Roger, wait a moment."
Nefertari watched the marked points on the data board beat regularly, waiting for the other party's answer. Soon after, the soldier sent news.
"The ground is unable to make contact with the Emperor's Children fleet."
Nefertari frowned uneasily, an unusual tingling pulsating in her gut.
——
Along with the operation of the mechanical transmission parts, a gold-plated palace door opened to Iskandar Kayan in the Royal Palace of Lokos.
The scholar was amazed by what he saw in front of him. The giant forging hammers and machine tools made the ground beneath his feet shake slightly. The hydraulic press hissed, and steam gushes out from different gaps and exhaust channels, making the room very hot. , even the air trembled with the heat wave.
Across the long corridor composed of precise and strong metal plates, Khayon saw the familiar tall giant at the middle of the bridge that flowed hematite beneath the horizontal line. Khayon was somewhat surprised that the Primarch of the Iron Warriors was willing to meet him in person.
He stepped forward quickly, and the closer he got, the more uncomfortable he felt.
This Primarch didn't seem to have that iconic shaking power, and his soul didn't tremble because he was close to the noble halo of a descendant of the Emperor.
In addition, he seemed to hear that there were countless mechanical components working quietly in the huge body of the original gene.
Is this the legendary extra body of the Primarch Perturabo that the old warriors in the Iron Warriors once mentioned in casual conversations?
"Lord Perturabo." He bowed and saluted.
"Say." The mechanical Perturabo, who had repaired his bionic skin, nodded slightly.
Intact, he has now traveled to the Webway with Morse to assist the Emperor in completing his final work.
At this time, the excavation mission was coming to an end. The dawn of success made everyone very happy. Morse obviously became more enthusiastic about writing scripts, the color of the miniature Magnus's skin became more vivid, and Angron began to take time to pull the horse. Gnus watched the video of the World Eaters fighting the Sun of Dust, and even the Emperor...
The Emperor actually had little reaction. However, Perturabo believed that beneath the Emperor's glorious face, there was also the satisfaction of the smooth progress of the plan.
Therefore, Olympia is temporarily managed by the mechanical Perturabo.
"While investigating the truth behind the potion taken by the Emperor's Son Telemanon Lylas, I accidentally discovered that another servitor of the Emperor's Children had stolen genes from the Sons of the Muses auxiliary army of the Nightgaunt Court."
Without further evidence, Kayon did not name Fabius Bayer directly.
"Given that Lylas is currently serving as a communicator among the Iron Warriors, I deem it necessary to report this incident involving him to you."
At stake is Telemanon's clean reputation. he thinks.
"Okay, thank you." Mechanical Perturabo said, "Fulgrim and Konrad Curze went to deal with this matter three hours ago. I can relay this message to the Emperor's Children fleet. ”
As a mechanical body, the communication array installed in Perturabo's body immediately began to operate. However, after a moment, his expression changed from calm to solemn.
Konrad Curze has already started descending on a transport plane and will reach the surface soon. This message was successfully delivered to the Eighth Primarch, and Conrad asked Fulgrim about the feedback he gave after receiving the message.
But on the other side, the communication requests sent to the Emperor's Children fleet were like water droplets melting into the fog, falling into the unknown silence.
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