Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 494 Parting

Official Imperial Calendar, 002.M31.

"Not a bad place, what do you think, Amon?"

Azak Ahriman said quietly, standing with Amon on the balcony in the Zenobia Hills area, overlooking the pearl-like Interrex Federation. Morning mist rolled over the trees, gently covering the green grass. Among the silent shrubs, fragrant pale yellow wildflowers bloomed at the base of delightful dark green tassels. Birds like wild geese passed through the sky.

"It's peaceful here," Amon replied. "I haven't tasted the breath of war for a long time, but we will definitely bring the war here, Azak."

"I know, and they know too. This is my choice and their judgment." Ahriman replied, his eyes wandering between the bright lights in the distance.

If this were Prospero, those lights would be the beacon lights that lit up the shore of the bay at night, leaving a hot afterglow in the day. The tower at the center of Zenobia would be a pyramid...if.

Hard to imagine. Amon thought in his heart.

It was unimaginable to him that there would be a human federation that, after spending such a long period of darkness and terror in the old night, still retained a heart of trust and goodwill that was willing to accept hundreds of thousands of exiles and be willing to help They rebuild their homes.

He could not imagine that if Interex was not owned by the Empire, or if they did not become friendly with the Iron Warriors, but chose the other side, they would lose such a powerful and crucial help.

It was unimaginable to him that there would be such a place that was independent from the erosion of subspace, but was so aware of the poison of Chaos that the other party immediately agreed to fight alongside them as soon as they mentioned the Lord of Darkness and the power of Chaos. ...If Magnus were still here, the Commander-in-Chief here would definitely have a good chat with their genetic father.

Behind them came Naude, Commander of Interrex, and with him came Ferros, the warsmith, whom Ahriman did not recognize.

Naude was accompanied by his translator and musician. As he approached, the faint music with sadness and sadness also approached, and the sound waves spread outward on the balcony, gradually fading away.

"I remember the visit of the Iron Warriors a year ago. Imperial friends..." Naude said that the Iron Warriors had confessed everything they could tell when they came into contact with Interex again.

"I didn't expect that in just a short time, the tentacles of darkness would touch us. I feel sad for everything you have to go through - if you have any requests, please tell us directly."

Ahriman turned sideways and nodded slightly: "Right now, the Dark Throne doesn't know where we are going, but sooner or later they will catch up with us. I ask again, if you are unwilling to get involved in the war, the Thousand Sons will return after resting Leave."

Upon their arrival in the system, Azak Ahriman changed their names to the Thousand Sons. No one objected - this was a dark age and they had no intention of calling themselves the Sun. They are the remnants of the Legion left in the world, a thousand crushed rubble, a thousand children of Magnus.

"Once the human race is overthrown, it will be overthrown forever. We are willing to ally with the human empire because we don't want to think about being alone." Naude shook his head, his accompaniment gradually became more and more exciting, and then fell into the undercurrent. With restraint, he stretched out his hand to Ahriman: "Besides, even without you, your pursuers will come to your door one day - I'm sorry about this, but the old enemy Blade comes from our country. "

He sincerely lamented, his ears drooping in guilt, "It was the empire that took away the disaster for us, but we never repaid us. If we are at fault in the eyes of the empire, then this war is inevitable... I We even appreciate your trust in us at this time, Space Marines, so there is no need for you to leave."

Ahriman removed his hand from the railing, and the sorcerer looked away entirely from the sight of Zenobia. He did not take the commander's hand.

"At least some of the Thousand Sons will leave." He said, even though he was just looking straight at Naude, there was still a burning light in his eyes, shining like blue stars high above. "Our mission is not over yet. We are bound to enter the galaxy again. Our destiny is not between preservation and defense, but between pursuit and exploration. We will become..."

He paused for a moment and then said, "Prodigal son."

Amon's eyes opened slightly wider: "You..."

"Our father's 'Heart (Ib)' and 'Ba (Ba)' - in ordinary people's terms, that is the soul, must still be exiled in the depths of the world. As long as it existed, as long as we still remember it, it means We still have his 'name (Rn)', which means that he will continue to exist...but he has never been found."

Ahriman said, choosing his words calmly, his heart beating steadily as he recalled the secrets written in the Book of Magnus. There were many changes that needed to be made, but he had seen the prototype of a great ritual, only this time no one would be around to guide him.

"What Star Cross Road has taken away from human beings is not only death, but also our 'ka' - the essence of human life and death. One day, I will return it to the person from whom it was taken... Even this is not enough Resurrecting anyone is not enough to reverse the fate of life and death. However, this is what we will do in the future.”

"So, will you succeed?" Naud couldn't help asking.

Ahriman lowered his eyes: "I don't know."

--

"You are back." Orr said, watching the Primarch of the Iron Warriors walk out from behind the Morro Gate, unable to judge what Perturabo had done in the past. His existing memories seemed to have not wavered at all... but he was indeed the one who knew very little about everything, since he said goodbye to Neos after Morro.

He raised his hand, took his cross from his chest, and took a deep breath. Some of the old and restrained emotions in his heart were blurring into an unrecognizable afterimage... from which a wave of expectation rose.

"Did you save him?" Orr asked eagerly.

Perturabo did not answer immediately, his eyes swept from top to bottom, pausing for a moment when he touched Orr's eyes, and turned away.

For a moment, Orr tasted the smell of copper rust from the tip of his tongue. This was not due to the fear of the Primarch... No, he just felt something from Perturabo's solemn attitude. A pain found the old pain that seemed to be deep in his soul.

Not long after, the black-robed craftsman also came back from the Gate of Morro. His existence seemed to fade, the ends of his messy hair turned into nothingness, and the mark he left on this world was thin and swaying, and could break away from the physical state at any time and turn into a few drops of falling rain. He nodded slightly to the silence present, not caring about the heavy silence, and almost smiled and announced: "No."

Orr exhaled with difficulty: "Why?"

Although he asked this question, he already knew part of the answer. This was the answer from his interpretation of Neos in the past: This is their choice.

"Give up the current plan. Even if the human empire continues, we will still face the coercion of Chaos." Perturabo said grimly, "Therefore, we will not give in and let everything return to the original state; we will not exchange the possible resurrection of a few people for the Thutmons array of the webway and the Glorious Crossroads of Vigberach."

"We will continue along this road, Orr. As for what happened just now, we just went back to fill in the time fragments that should be filled." Morse said briskly and calmly, "Obtaining fire, the Tower of Babel, a battle, Moloch, the beginning of the empire... and, unfortunately, Neos's suicide note did not mention you. At least I should remind him in this regard... Since it is a suicide note, don't write it like a secret letter. What do you think, Constantine?"

Constantine Waldo's eyes fell on Morse to respond to his rude remarks. After two or three seconds, his hand holding the spear stroked the Solar Spear and turned it slightly.

"You haven't changed anything." He said. "You have not deviated from the current path."

Standing in the corner against the wall, John Grammaticus shrugged regretfully, his lips moved, and he might have muttered some helpless swear words.

Perturabo observed Valdo's face: "That's right. Now, tell us why the Emperor created you, Constantine Valdo."

This was the promise made by the Grand Commander of the Imperial Guards before they entered the Gate of Moloch.

Under his gaze, Constantine seemed to make a deep, throat-rolling sound, and after a moment, Perturabo realized that it was a bionic laugh.

The head of the Imperial Guards said clearly: "To kill the inhuman, to kill the false emperor."

The eyes of several people were locked on Constantine Valdo. Some were shocked that such a word could come from the mouth of the dignified commander of the Imperial Guards; some were disappointed and expected, knowing that Neos would not leave a second layer of prepared means outside the plan.

"You... can do it?" Mors pursed his lips and looked at Constantin Valdor, who had changed in essence. This time, he saw some different traces, a deep golden energy, like a fire burning on oil-spattered fabric, surrounding his reflection of existence in the High Heaven, and phantom-like pictures intertwined around him...

... Luger shot Beile's eyes with a slingshot, ending the powerful giant...

... Bellerophon rode Pegasus and stabbed Chimaira with a spear...

... Vidal stabbed the giant wolf Fenrir with a sword and avenged his father...

The echo of killing something beyond human, just hovered around Valdor, weaving and constructing his existence. His essence came from this, the Emperor took it from the fragments of time and forged it into its current appearance. Yes, Mors thought, yes, when the Emperor was vague with him about his true plan, he listed Constantin Valdor's name, right alongside the Primarchs and him... Did he know the mission he was given from the beginning to the end?

"Perturabo, Remus," Constantine said, "I watched as the Thunder Warriors were created, and saw my Master place His trust in them, believing that their danger would be contained. Utholtan and his warriors proved me wrong, and then I saw the birth of the Astartes. I remained silent, trusting in my Master's decision - and now I have finally confirmed the hidden error in your creation, the unnecessary emotions that ultimately led to the birth of the Dark Throne."

Was he gnashing his teeth and treating those in front of him with rage, like the general hostility toward the Astartes throughout the Custodes? Besides, they had just chosen the Emperor's death in history?

No, not really. There was only a kind of quiet reflection in him.

"However, at the same time, I must finally affirm the necessity of your existence, because the human empire is as solid as a rock, and only equal power can overthrow it. Only you can destroy the world controlled by the Dark Throne, and your compatriots Confront each other on both sides of the fortress, kill the legions and primarchs who are equal to you, sacrifice for the completion of the Silent Realm circle, and die for the rebirth of my lord. "

Perturabo said slowly, "We are the only ones worthy of setting the galaxy on fire."

Constantine Valdor nodded: "This is your duty, Warmaster."

Perturabo closed his eyes.

"John, Eulanius," Constantine said the names of two people one after another, "Of all the current situations, the Cross of Radiance is the only exception that is not in our Lord's plan. Therefore, I need you to take me there. , I will witness my Lord’s current decision with my own eyes, and then fulfill my duty. In addition, I have two things to look for.”

"What?" John Grammaticus, who was suddenly called upon, perked up.

"First, my lord's true name now." said the commander of the Imperial Army. "I know the true name of the Golden Throne, but it may not be that of the Dark Throne."

"What else?"

"Second, a demon. A demon capable of murdering any human being. An echo of a god capable of killing humans. It must have existed beyond the curtain of the world when the first murder occurred."

"That's exactly how the warp works." Morse nodded.

Perturabo stood there and opened his eyes again. He raised one hand, as if there was something solid and indestructible in his palm. Suddenly, he clenched his palms into fists.

"Consider where we will build our base, consider which Legions will accompany us, consider how we will gather our forces, consider how we can strike first before all is known, consider who we will be our mortal enemies, who will be the Emperor's Rebirth pays silver coins.”

His words were calm and gloomy, his stony face etched with suppressed rage: "Consider how we will destroy everything we have built with our own hands to pursue the path we truly must pursue."

"Then we shall part," said Constantine Waldo, looking toward the Gate of Moroch. "Will you go with me, John and Eulanius?"

"Of course." Orr sighed, "I still..."

He swallowed the rest of his words. He still remembered that the Alpha Legion took him away because Neos wanted to see him one last time. Then, he will always keep the appointment.

"Do I have a choice?" John muttered, "Okay, okay. I guess you still need me to open the webway door."

He raised his hand, some psychic spells were taking shape, and super-material fluorescent light began to rise. Suddenly, he was stopped by Morse.

"Wait a minute, John," Morse said. "I have something I need to give you, Orr."