Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Sanguinius sat up quickly from his den, his wings shooting out and hitting the edge of his specially made bed.

He calmly retracted the wings that had cracked the head of the bed, allowing the pair of additional biochemical products that had caused trouble to gather behind him and observe the surrounding situation.

There were only two entities nearby who were sarcastically talking to each other, and a human voice that seemed to come from the shadow of a cryptex suspended in the air occasionally joined their conversation.

As soon as he sat up, the two entities were keenly aware of his movements. They both looked at him with sharp eyes, which sent a chill down the angel's spine. Only the voice from the cryptex was still speaking in the distance. His unfinished words.

"...Perturabo cannot be contacted," the voice said, sounding reluctant to admit it. "Has he reached the Satradar Abyss?"

"Even if he doesn't get there, you won't be able to support instantaneous astrological communication over such long distances, Magnus."

Mors leisurely picked up a huge feather that Sanguinius had knocked off from the ground, held it in his hand and observed it, which made Sanguinius feel a phantom pain in his wings for no reason.

"Besides, what's the point of contacting Perturabo? Didn't we ask the respected Archangel about his personal wishes before remotely accessing the Court of Narni?"

Konrad Curze's eyes were still staring at the angel's face unblinkingly: "Oh, what do you think in your heart, Sanguinius, the guardian of Baal, who wakes up from his dream?"

That short memory before going to bed quickly returned through the fog. Sanguinius put his legs on the edge of the bed, sat up straighter, and complained casually: "No one told me that those things would invade in the end, yours The slogan is 'Experience a day without wings'."

"Didn't you enjoy a day like that?" Morse showed no shame, while sweeping the white feather branches in his hand like plucking harp strings, he introduced his dream design concept, "Just like me It is said that in this dark, cold and harsh galaxy, mortals will always be buried six feet deep and die due to various inexplicable invasions. "

"I don't think today's Baal has the potential to suddenly introduce inanimate beings. Morse, this place is not my dark and dark capital, and it does not have the temptation to be invaded at any time." Coze said.

"I must state that the plot effect I needed at first was to insert the invasion frenzy of Baal mutants into the Court of Narni, so as to better fit the local characteristics of Sanguinius's home planet." Morse put the feather on the On the small table next to it, "But someone told me that there are no statistics on mutants in the Court of Narni, and there are too many temporary achievements. I can only dig out some from the database. Sanguinius may like it." Content."

"Why do I like the Unborn?" Sanguinius said confused, using Curze's term for those things.

"You are related to the fate of that burning army stained with blood," Morse said, "but from an objective point of view, there is only the data modeling of that demonic army in the Court of Narni. Thanks to Roger Dorn gives us this wonderful data.”

"Dorne?" Curze's nails scratched lightly on the arm of his chair. He had obviously forgotten the hardness of the wood in the Angel's room, and his fingernails easily scratched a few white marks on the armrests, turning out sawdust.

"Years ago, he was almost captured on a planet. That's not the point now."

After speaking, Mors smiled friendly at Sanguinius: "So, how was your playing experience?"

"I want to know if you really don't remember your Primarch identity, or if you are just acting on me." Sanguinius crossed his arms in front of him.

"Conrad and I really don't have memories, but Morse definitely remembers that his soul structure is different from ordinary people," Magnus's voice said.

The red original body was indeed just called to deliver a remote key. Then, with a few words from Morse, he was lured into the dreamland to see the appearance of an angel.

The angel's eyebrows lowered slightly. "You scared me." He said deeply. "If it is really another world and you really die next to me, I will not be able to accept that scene."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Sanguinius..." Magnus' voice immediately contained a hint of guilt, "I didn't mean to make you feel sad. This is our first meeting, and I Hope it can bring you better memories.”

"Well, my hobbies are unusual, friends." Morse clapped his hands, attracting the attention of several people. "At least we have verified that the Court of Narni is enough to hold the souls of multiple original bodies, and allows We have made some small modifications to the image of the original body, maybe it will be used somewhere in the future.”

"Did you really only write four scripts during the Olympiad, Angel of Witches?" Cozzi hissed, following Morse's train of thought and astutely understanding what exactly he was trying to do that was uninteresting.

"Excuse me," the angel raised one of his wings, instead of raising his hand, "no one has told me yet, what is the Court of Narni, what is the Olympia Games..."

"Oh, here's the thing," Morse turned sideways, "it seems that Konrad Coates hasn't had time to tell you all his stories, right? Can he explain where he came from?"

Magnus interjected: "Isn't it Nostramo?"

"Wait a moment, Angel of Wisdom." Morse said, "Now is the occasion for the Blood Angels."

"Well," the angel raised the corner of his mouth helplessly, "I know that the blood flowing on the sons of his Muse is not human. No matter what kind of clothes they wear or how tightly they cover up their masks, their smell clearly shows that That's it. The sands of Baal, I dare you not to imagine how their presence relieves my tension."

Cozz curled his lips.

"Did I miss a lot of stories?" Magnus was full of doubts. He instantly transformed from the cryptex into an entity. He landed on his feet and stared at the other three people in the room with an orange-red eye in confusion.

Curze took out some gadgets from his tool bag, which seemed to be two six-sided dice. He threw the translucent light blue dice with triangular eyes on the table and fiddled with it casually.

"I don't want to say so much," he muttered.

Mors knocked on the armrest, and telepathic communication immediately flowed into Sanguinius's heart.

The Archangel fell into a brief aphasia under the influence of the harmonious atmosphere during the games shared by Morse and the great confusion of Perturabo witnessing "the one". He tried his best to shake his wings and regain his composure.

"I understand..." He showed a standard angelic smile with difficulty, "You also know that the future I can see is just a short fragment, but this is still..."

He swallowed his doubts as to why Perturabo had to share everything with Rogal Dorn, and flapped his wings behind him.

"No matter what, thank you for the dream." Sanguinius regained his grace, "Being without wings is a wonderful experience. This is the first time I have been given such a choice since I was born in Baal and accepted by a pure-blood tribe. ”

He blinked, "I even looked forward to meeting more different Primarchs in this dream."

"Do they dare to cut off a piece of their mind and throw it into the Court of Narni?" Coze snorted coldly, "Trust is not enough to support any original body to this point. How can friendship shake the iron stone foundation of the human empire?"

"Conrad Curze is right," Rogal Dorn said from the doorway, "And, Sanguinius, watch your back."

Several people turned around in unison, looking at the Imperial Fist Primarch with complete incomprehension, who should not have appeared on Baal II under any circumstances, except for Morse who took the two dice from Curze's table. .

The angel was about to say something when the pillar of the bed curtain behind him finally succumbed to the weight of the continuous blows from the wings and cracked open, driving the entire thick embroidered gold and red curtain downwards.

The angel dodged at the speed of the original body, but unfortunately the indoor space was small. When he jumped out, he inevitably hit the low table next to the bed.

Magnus tried to catch Sanguinius, who stood up, further compressing the space in the room, and with one backward step another cupboard hit Magnus' foot...

Before any chain reaction could occur further and spread to the black-robed Morse, the craftsman took out a piece of Emperor Tarot from his sleeve and pressed it next to the two dice.

A red-haired warlock wearing a robe embroidered with stars and moons. His skin was hidden in the background of the parchment-like robe. He held a dark blue crystal ball in his pearly red palms.

The Magus of Executeria.

From the moment the Emperor's Tarot was pressed on the table, with the craftsman's fingers as the center point, the illusion began to shatter outward.