Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"When we say 'believe', it is often based on the promises made by others. However, if we understand it in the usual way and think that it is just faith in salvation, then it is very wrong. Our 'belief' is trust and entrustment." - "The Book of Lorgar"

Jack recognized Kroger and Hammer at once.

This is quite strange. First of all, they haven't seen each other for a few years. They both changed their helmets and updated their armor with several large armor blocks. They were wrapped tightly in the iron shell.

And when the hatch was just opened with steam, the limited light and restricted perspective were not enough for the Shadow Moon Wolf to see the warriors who were not very conspicuous among the Iron Warriors - the throne knew that none of these Iron Warriors were tall enough, and Hammer was even shorter.

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But Jack knew that the one in front was Kroger, and the one behind was Hammer. The two glorious captains, each leading a dozen people, squeezed into the same transport cabin as them, bumping into each other with the rise and fall, until they all fixed themselves with magnetic buckles.

He hesitated for less than two seconds, and then decided to say hello to his brothers.

He didn't control his emotions before, and talked to the Iron Warriors about separating. Later, he thought that it was unnecessary. A qualified warrior should not vent his anger on his fighting brothers. But later, there was no chance to see each other again, and the matter was left alone.

Now it's rare to meet again at the battle stage. Jack doesn't want to be like a sailor's fiancée in a Terran classical drama, squatting on the shore and shaking his handkerchief by himself.

He happily accessed the built-in communication channel.

"Iron Warrior, I'm Jack, the captain of the Luna Wolves. Long time no see."

"The 23rd Company, Kroger received. What's up?" A deep voice answered, followed by Hammer.

Their voices were thicker than in the previous two years, with more hidden anger and fighting desire. Some warriors can really draw nourishment from fighting. Jack thought, they are born good Astartes.

"It's okay, just say hello to you," Jack said happily, and heard his voice echoing in the internal channel.

The Iron Warrior's voice changed a little, "Don't occupy the channel line." Kroger warned, and there was a familiar helplessness hidden in his seriousness.

Jack laughed softly and leaned against the bulkhead behind him. A sense of satisfaction and relaxation that had not appeared in the past few years surged into his heart.

After confirming that he was not in a hurry to land for a while, he simply left the Luna Wolves' channel line temporarily, so as to avoid this group of nagging and curious guys grabbing him and asking endless questions, disturbing his own time to savor.

After landing on the ground, Jack was in the blood and mud flying everywhere, so he didn't have the heart to think about these trivial matters that had nothing to do with the battle.

Gathering with the company commander and other brothers in the company in a simple temporary forward base where the ground was hard enough only by burning fire, they rested for a while, and led their own orders, and began to step on the soft and sticky blood and mud, moving in different directions.

Kroger was separated from him again. This was not an accident, but the Iron Warriors deliberately let them work together again based on their outstanding performance in the past cooperation.

"Get out of here, damn..." Someone suddenly shouted, and then shut up immediately. Jack called his name, "What's the situation?"

"That kind of echo," Gregory said, answering for the brother, and followed Jack to the other half of a raised hill of flesh and blood. "Psychic echo, I also saw some flowers and plants."

"All confirmation analysis systems have been turned on," a reminder came from the Iron Warriors.

"Of course." Jack responded.

The attack has begun, artillery fire and bullets exploded everywhere in the chaotic land, the sound of the bombs overwhelmed the laser weapons of the Silver Angels, but the effect was far from enough.

A large number of charred bones and flesh structures rolled all over the ground, and there were tumbleweeds fluttering gently in the wind, or the sound of water falling down the waterfall. When Jack heard the sound behind him, he immediately raised his vigilance to the highest point.

His psychic talent was quite poor. If even he could hear those long-lasting whispers in the wind, it could only mean that the psychic recollection environment here was so strong that it was as if it had substance.

"Peter... I might have to take an ounce of broken bones from your leg..." Someone in the team began to mutter to himself, and then quickly woke up with the assistance of the helmet detection system provided by the Iron Warrior, and the syringe injected the prepared medicine to deal with the wrongly increased hormone level.

At this time, psychic idiots like him are needed, Jack thought. Sensitive people can taste the metaphysical fluctuations brought by every trace of spiritual power in the air, but he can only smell the strongest traces.

After half an hour of advancing, they encountered the first round of attacks by the Silver Angels. These creatures floating in the air were several orders of magnitude smaller than their counterparts that could ascend into the universe and engage in void warfare. Each one was no larger than three Space Marines combined, but on the ground, they rushed over in groups, constantly firing short-range bone bullets, psychic bullets, or using the blades at the tips of their wings to quickly cut.

The Astartes hurriedly fought, and after a while, Hammer contacted him - or it was just a message sent by the group.

"Just now, I felt like I was a resurrected warrior of the Second Legion," Hammer said calmly, "hunting other flesh monsters that wanted to kill me."

"Then you killed a half-silver angel in one breath," Jack said in amazement, "This is a good illusion, as if it were divinely assisted, isn't it?"

"No..." Hammer thought for a moment, and at the same time used a series of explosive bombs to repel the small silver angel rushing towards him, blowing it in half and shattering it in the red and gray-black smoke of the explosion. Light yellow blood and silver fragments like iron filings fell like rain, "That seems to be its memory."

He fired another shot, pointing out the object he was talking about.

"Oh, well," Jack replied, "a good story."

The hand of the Shadow Moon Wolf suddenly hurt, and in an instant, the pain reached a burning extreme, every nerve was burning in the flames, it was simply crazy, he swallowed a scream, his face twisted, and cold sweat rolled down his back instantly.

The pain left as soon as it touched, like a bird flying across the lake of consciousness, leaving only a simple conclusion in Jack's heart: it was fresh, and it happened not long ago, so it still retained its original intensity.

"I feel something new, too," Jack said, breathing still fast, no matter who was listening in the channel. If it weren't for the power claw in one hand and the grenade launcher in the other, his hands would have been clenched into fists.

"You?" Krog answered him, "Are you sure?"

He understood what he meant. Jack thought that any psychic signal that he could sense could be called a clue to lead the way.

The second wave of pain brushed his scalp, and he seemed to be tripped and fell into flesh and bone. The feeling of broken bones and the unique psychic spear of the silver angel flew past his buzzing power armor helmet, swallowing part of his scalp and a small amount of skull into the non-material darkness.

The continuous explosions woke Jack up again. He looked around, stretched out his claws, and embedded his power claws into the wings of a silver angel flying by, deeply clasping the gaps in the hollow bones, and then smashed the enemy's chest and abdomen at close range with explosives.

Several battle brothers around whimpered because of the grief brought by the silver angel's spirit being shattered. Jack grabbed the silver angel and blocked a series of continuous ammunition until the wreckage in his hand was burned through.

"I'm sure," he shouted, "the fresh memory of the angel. It's just a dark angel."

"Direction!" Kroger shouted while pulling the trigger.

"One hundred and ten degrees!"

Their superiors were also in the channel. Jack heard Kroger start to vouch for the Iron Warriors, and he himself began to communicate with the captain of the Moon Wolf.

Jack has always had a good reputation in reports and assessments, and in the end, the proposal was quickly passed.

Most of the Iron Warriors and a few of the Luna Wolves will continue to sweep the Silver Angel base world in the direction they are heading, while some of the Luna Wolves, including Jack, will perform detection and exploration missions and report the information they obtain at all times.

The smell of a lion, Jack thought, as if he could hear the voice of the First Primarch lingering in his ears.

When Lion El'Jonson tracked him and Hashem a few years ago, was he looking for the smell of wolves? So now, it's time for the wolves to look for lions.

——

I don't have... I don't have that many words, half of my thoughts have left my body. My thoughts don't-connect into a line. I'm still using my thoughts, my, the part inside my head-my brain.

I forgot the words again. The language. I forgot many of the rules of the language, and I have very little left, but my brain doesn't feel anxious, it runs very fast, very smoothly, like it has returned to what it should be. Not limited by limited patterns. Not bound by the framework of language.

My only obstacle is...

My name is lost along with the language. A loss of identity. A loss of a demonstrative vocabulary. Just like...

What I can control is no longer myself.

But in any case, I am still me. A life... different from other existences.

I looked around, and I was the tallest among these lives. They were similar to me, all wearing the same coat. Their coats were also similar to mine. They surrounded me, one by one, around me.

Very quiet. I thought. Everyone, so quiet, raised their heads and looked at me. I dare not say how much joy I felt when I was surrounded like this. They were expecting me. Expecting my answer.

I opened my mouth and let out a howl, low, very distant, echoing in the world around us. There was a burst of them among them - collision? Low roar? Uneasy... Sadness?

Sadness. This word caught me. Through this gap, all the words returned to me, wrapping me up again in the framework shaped by humans, and I found my name from the origin of nature and wildness - our name.

Our respective names.

Lion El'Jonson's long sword clanged out of the sheath, and in an instant it was pointed at the throat of the person standing in front of him, and the tip of the sword penetrated half an inch. A stream of bright red liquid seeped down the silver blade, until it stained the deep red ruby ​​at the tip of the blade.

Opposite him, a face similar to his but different from his stared at him, the curve of the brow bone was exactly the same as his, and the downward lip line was slightly softer than that of the Emperor's eldest son.

He was connected by blood.

There was no tenderness in Leon's heart, and the cold anger made his nerves twitch slightly. He leaned forward, putting more power into his blade, but some opposing force stopped him, locking him in place.

"Ho..." The male lion burst out with a dull roar from between his teeth, suddenly sheathed his sword, took half a step back, and observed the surrounding situation with the corner of his eye.

He secretly swallowed up his surprise, keeping his face as cold as an alabaster statue.

The inside of a battleship. Strange yet familiar, it most likely belongs to an imperial battle barge, and judging from the exquisiteness of its decoration...

Queen of Glory. Leon El'Jonson concluded silently. The Glory Queen of the Second Legion, a giant ship that was lost without a trace deep in Randan, is also one of the fundamental reasons why four imperial fleets have jointly arrived in Randan.

But how did he get here?

There is a clear gap in his memory.

The last moment, he was surrounded by silver angels, searching for traces of the head of the silver angels in the world of flesh and blood, preparing to use his burning wings to bury all the silver angels in a burning rest.

During several years of psychic contact, Leon El'Jonson's hunter knowledge allowed him to confirm the fundamental source of this consciousness. As they deepened into Randan, the dispute between life and death would eventually bring the Silver Angel and the Dark Angel together. Fragile cooperation treaties were torn up.

The next moment, he stood here, alone, surrounded by the primarch of the Second Legion and its guards, and his power was also bound by some kind of psychic energy.

Leon sneered. Although he was not afraid of the unknown, he was not a reckless man without judgment.

"Are you Duncan Aho?" He said the name of the second primarch accurately, his tone was restrained and indifferent, and he scrutinized every reaction of the other party.

The Second Primarch spoke slowly. "You are Leon El'Jonson, the First Primarch."

"You got my name," Leon said, noticing that the other person's scratched neck was still not healed, and the way the blood was dripping was so consistent with real conditions that he was even convinced for a moment that he was in reality.

The Second Primarch looked at him, circling him until he reached Leon's flank. He was not wearing a weapon and was wearing a simple dark brown robe, dressed like a traveler in the wilderness. Tired, lonely, and a deep indifference that seemed like it shouldn't belong to him.

"We can hear you," he said. "Your signals, some overflow radio. Occasionally, we've been able to successfully complete some lag parsing, but we've never caught up with the code updates for your internal signals."

fraud. Leon thought indifferently. All excuses. The voice in his ears was the psychic transmission he had heard over the past few years. His intuition was warning him, and he had no doubt about it.

The Second Primarch in front of him was either an alien in disguise, or a traitor who had surrendered to the alien.

Where is his dark angel? How did he get so lost?

Leon licked the tips of his teeth, "Why am I here?"

"You saw those silver angels," Duncan said.

"I confess to you, in order to leave here, we have to communicate with the only alien group that can possibly reach cooperation, and ask them to cooperate with the army of the empire - for their own benefit, and for our escape and being found. . I am good at psychic powers, and you, maybe because of our similar numbers, we find each other."

He paused, "But you also saw that the Emperor's eldest son, the Silver Angel, still chose to betray in the end. Aliens cannot be trusted."

"The competition between survival and death will eventually tear apart the agreement of cooperation." There was a hint of anger in Duncan's voice, and his words were surprisingly similar to Leon's own thoughts.

"Then what?" The lion narrowed his eyes. The other party directly admitted that he had made a mistake in cooperating with the alien, which made Leon El'Jonson shaken for a moment. And he still hasn't seen the falseness of his current environment.

He realized he had to look more intently for holes in the other person's language.

"A rift in space, caused by their anti-matter weapons. You have seen their power, haven't you? The principle is the rift in space.

"You fell into space, and we salvaged you back into the ship." Duncan said as he moved his finger to the holographic projection next to him to bring up Ran Dan's star map.

Leon immediately compared it with Perturabo's map and confirmed that the only difference between this star map and the map provided by the Iron Lord was that this star map more completely depicted Ran Dan's inner core.

He was silent.

"Here," Duncan pointed to the center of the star map, "is the rift in the universe. We are all here, deeply trapped in the joint constraints of the gravitational vortex and spiritual energy fluctuations. We cannot break through from the inside and can only rely on what is possible from the outside. 's rescue."

He raised his head, looked deeply at Leon El'Jonson, and said softly: "We have been waiting for you for many years."