Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"To Perturabo who is on his way to the Satrada Abyss: When you realize that I have begun to write to you again, it undoubtedly means that I have finally found the secret of Baal and its two satellites in the vast universe. existence, so there is an urgent need to share knowledge with others.

"This three-dimensional celestial sphere also had a good old time that could be called a happy one. The reason why I don't use the word 'garden' is because the environment of Mortarion and some events that have happened in recent years have made this life full of vitality. The lexical ambiguity of vigorous increases suddenly.”

"But now, the beauty of the past has naturally turned into dust. Today's scenery of Bawai is only one level better than Mortarion's Barbarus - a desolate, dilapidated, scorching, and massively damaged abandoned city. , and glowing sand.”

"Sanguinius's efforts here may be more obvious on the surface. Many new buildings were gradually built under the unified schedule of the Archangel's strong requirements. This is Sanguinius's important argument: he insisted Tell us that he relied on knowledge, reason and justice to become the Blood Angel of Baal."

"The mutants of Baal should think otherwise."

"And in the high altitude near the earth, Baoyu suddenly degenerated into a piece of color as integrated as red copper casting, relying on the depth to distinguish the small town and the wasteland. The embryonic form of the sandstorm was brewing deep in the desert. Sanguinius said that the small town Dust Bowl has great potential to grow."

"The traces of civilization give way to natural landscapes. Even the natural landscapes are the result of what humans themselves created many years ago. This once again proves that humans will always be afraid of the things they created."

"In addition, I seem to understand why the upright Sanguinius took me and Konrad Curze soaring in the sky. He must have thought that after being sucked by the strong wind in mid-air, the two of us would Silence in the wordless roar, and no longer engage in high-intensity dialogue autonomously.”

"Unfortunately, it seems that I haven't made it obvious enough. I am a - in Mortarion's words, a wizard. And wizards will not be unable to recite spells just because they are on a windy day."

The sun burned in the empty sky, also obscuring the presence of another Baal moon visible at night. The light shines in the desolation, the rolling yellow sand rises and falls in the flight of Sanguinius, and the crystal gravel brushes from the surface of the ruins of the uninhabited empty city. Every grain of sand is the potential for fatal cancer and death. By.

The shadows left by some wars stretch into long lines on the sand. The metal muzzles that stand up diagonally upward, the skeletons of man-made armed vehicles hollowed out by wind etching, and the scorch marks on the dunes echoing with the rumble of cannons, these abandoned The mechanical remains are silent, inviting past memories and years to revisit, while visitors only have the whisper of the wind.

Due to the lack of water, even weeds have difficulty growing on the surface of the formation, let alone shrubs or jungles.

Only the vast dust and sand remain.

Due to the extremely high altitude, the landscape of the earth moves steadily and slowly in the field of vision, but the strong wind proves the Archangel's flying speed - and perhaps the fact that he is not using his wings to fly in accordance with the laws of physics at all. , because Morse can guarantee that those huge white wings definitely sacrificed the rationality of the way they flap for the sake of the beautiful posture during flight.

The wind blew in front of Morse, lifting his windproof hood and blowing all his hair back, as well as his robes.

He used a little magic to create an invisible tip in front of him to guide the flow of wind pressure and relieve the pressure of the wind on his face, so that he could better enjoy the pleasure of flying.

Morse looked at Conrad Coates, who was hanging on the other side by a bungee cord. Marquis Xue frowned, his face paler than usual, and the word "regret" was clearly written on the corners of his trembling mouth.

Of course, this is not to say that the Primarch is about to succumb to the pressure of heights or winds: anyone who dares to look down from the top of the tower at the core of Gomorr is unlikely to be afraid of heights.

He probably just felt that allowing himself to be lifted up by a rope and floated in the sky by an angel was as stupid as words can describe.

"How's it going, Konrad?" Sanguinius greeted his floating blood brother cheerfully. "Is this an unexpectedly wonderful experience? I like flying very much. It allows me to relax when I'm alone. It also frees me up to take in the view of my home planet, what do you think?”

Konrad Coates' harsh words were neutralized in the singing of the wind. Unless he was willing to throw away his face and shout at the top of his lungs, I am afraid that every word he uttered next would not succeed in his plan. In the ears of angels.

"He didn't seem to have a problem with it," Morse began.

The angel smiled, "I don't think Conrad has seen his flight in the prophecy? This must be a novel experience for him."

As for how Sanguinius was able to maintain steady verbal communication while flying, this may have been one of the many wonders added by the Emperor when he created the Primarch.

"Perhaps he prefers to light eight candlesticks in the dark cabin, hold a newly cleaned skull, squat in the leather-wrapped seat, and count how many new bones have been collected in the legion recently."

"That's a gloomy statement. I believe Conrad wouldn't say that. Right?" The angel waited a few seconds in a friendly manner, "Look, he acquiesced that I was right."

Conrad let go of a few sections of the rope folded in his hands, plunged down, and then tightened his grip again.

Due to the huge difference in weight between his hands - on one side was a fluttering black robe that was as light as several layers of thin fabric, and on the other was a solid two-person tall giant genetic creation. After Sanguinius started flying, I found myself having to readjust to the center of gravity of this strange combination.

Conrad's move caused the angel, who was already struggling to maintain his balance, to tilt sideways off guard.

Sanguinius quickly adjusted his flight balance and flapped one of his wings ceremonially to prove that he was trying hard to fly.

"Careful, Brother Bat," he laughed. "Don't let go and fall."

Morse estimated the distance. Combining Bal's gravitational acceleration, which was slightly one-fifth greater than Terra's, and the Emperor's advanced biological engineering, he felt that Konrad Curze should not be killed by a few kilometers of distance... perhaps.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm sure the Midnight Angel won't fall into a heap that's not easy to put back together."

Konrad Coze did not give any feedback. He was probably attracted by the scenery of Sanguinius's home planet. His brain was completely immersed in the beautiful scenery of Baal, and he gave up any further thinking.

"He doesn't like to be called an angel, Mors," Sanguinius advised gently.

"You really have the face of an angel," Mors said, as Sanguinius's wings shed pure light above his head. "It's no wonder the Baal people regard you as their pure-blood icon. Do you think the Emperor How would he view Baal’s local religious atmosphere, even though he himself is the largest religious person in the galaxy?”

Sanguinius' wings spread, helping him begin to glide through the air. Wind hunting.

"My people do view me as such," Sanguinius replied as they neared their destination, "and I am willing to repay them for all they have given me."

"Do you like this?" Morse asked.

The ground is close, and yellow sand is blowing towards your face. Sanguinius landed with them. Conrad Coates released the rope in advance, adjusted his posture in the air, and landed lightly.

Sanguinius spread his wings to block a gust of dusty wind, then shook them and folded them behind his back.

"We can talk about it later," the angel's handsome face was comforting, "I will take you to meet my tribe elders first, the emperor's messengers. I haven't told my people yet, I am leaving Bar."

He smiled, "I believe this is the reason why you appeared on my home planet, Morse. And, I thank you for the help you have done for my children, I have heard from Konrad."

"Oh, I'm not here to rush you." Morse really didn't expect the angel to think like this. Sanguinius hid his emotions a little too well, "I just came to see Konrad Curze and How you got along, like whether Cozze tried to pluck your feathers, or whether you stuffed Coze into a box and threw him into outer space.”

He calculated the time in his mind, "The Emperor should be still dealing with Mortarion's affairs on Terra recently, at least until he has finished deceiving Number Fourteen's feelings, and then takes the time to sail to Baal to find you. It’s your turn to leave, so don’t worry.”

"Mortarion?" Curze repeated alertly. Since he had just taken a few breaths of air, his voice was even lower and hoarse, and seemed to have some kind of nervous threat. "Do you know what is going on in Mortarion?" What’s going on?”