Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Whenever Ahriman looked at Kalena from the highest point, he could always recall his hometown.

No, not Holy Terra, although he was indeed born there.

Although Ahriman was also fond of the rolling hills, dry deserts and warm river valleys of the Achaemenid region, as well as the lonely books sleeping in the ancient masonry urns, like all the veterans of the Thousand Sons, when he saw them Hometown of the Father of Genes: From the moment of Prospero, Ahriman has regarded this lonely Garden of Eden as his new homeland.

In Ahriman's view, Prospero is the most beautiful place in the entire galaxy, especially the soul of that world: [City of Light] Tizca, which has gathered countless wise men including Magnus himself. Xinxue, it is the center of wisdom and art, the aesthetic embodiment of order and senses, and a wonderful paradise built by black coast and snow-white marble only for those who seek knowledge.

In Carena, Ahriman could vaguely see the shadow of his hometown. The history of this city can be traced back to the most glorious golden age of mankind. Its huge, elegant and harmonious structure symbolized the vision of civilization and the future at that time. Infinite confidence and reverie.

"What are you looking at, Ahriman?"

A rough voice came, interrupting the son of Magnus who was immersed in his own world.

The person who came was a piece of rough steel, and he was wrapped in a solid MK III power armor. It was covered with simple yellow and black stripes, indicating that he was loyal to the Lord of Olympia, Perturabo. warrior.

Ahriman could smell the scent of the arrival, which was a mixture of many stenches: the salty sea breeze, the cries of the refugees, the noise of war, the thick smell of blood and tears, and the panic that the entire city was feeling. .

"I'm observing the city, Phrix."

Ahriman tried to sound as respectful and normal as possible.

"I think we should act. This city and its countless mortals are in a dangerous situation. Their hearts are filled with fear and the unknown. My soldiers tell me that hundreds of mortals are leaving without permission every day. Safe area, back into the dangerous wilderness.”

Captain Thousand Sons' repeated words made Phrix couldn't stop nodding. His eyes were like the most sophisticated machines, constantly moving through the crowd at his feet, exuding something that made Ahriman feel uneasy and resistant. mood.

"You're right, we should make them move faster. The current efficiency is too slow."

Following Frix's words, hundreds of Iron Warriors were continuously walking out of the landing cabin. They formed a torrent of yellow and black. Two warriors would stop every 100 meters to take over. Those places where Thousand Sons warriors are unable to govern.

The joy of the arrival of a strong army for reinforcements stayed in Ahriman's heart for less than a minute, because he soon discovered that with those murderous steel warriors standing on the roadside, the commotion among the evacuated people seemed to be increasing instead of decreasing.

These descendants of Perturabo have obviously never performed similar tasks: whether it is the armor dotted with blood or the muzzle of the gun that has not been suppressed, it is enough to make the most composed Imperial subjects whisper.

"I heard that a cult called the Sons of Sitan is obstructing our evacuation?"

Faced with Phrix's question, Ahriman just nodded.

"Yes, they have extraordinary influence in this world. Especially the occurrence of a series of disasters has caused their power to grow very quickly. Every day, people are tempted by them to go to disaster areas in search of carnival and so-called divine grace."

"Then why not clear them out?"

"Because objective conditions do not allow it."

This answer made the Iron Warrior sneer.

"Don't tell me this is difficult. Soldiers of the Fifteenth Legion, we can pick out all the suspects and investigate them one by one. We can even go a step further and prioritize technicians and young laborers, and then women of appropriate age. Children and then everyone else.”

"With that sorted, we can quickly move everyone out in batches instead of wasting time like we are doing now."

"They are the subjects of the empire, not cattle, Felix, your method will only cause resistance, misunderstanding and human tragedy."

Ahriman resisted the urge to curse. Of course, he knew that the descendants of Perturabo did not have much patience when dealing with mortals. They always took it for granted that everyone would bow before numbers and efficiency, or that by, for example, lashing the whip at mortals. You can do anything with the class.

Rough guy.

This answer obviously did not satisfy Fricks, but just when he wanted to escalate the argument further, a visible commotion suddenly broke out in the crowd.

The two company commanders looked at each other, then jumped off the hill where they were, pushing through the increasingly panicked crowd, and ran towards the commotion. In other places, there were countless legion soldiers. Doing the same thing.

——————

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! My compatriots!"

"Glory! Revel! We are the blessed! The chosen ones! And now, we will ascend! We will merge with the great Lord of Storms! Now!"

"The Sons of Sitan implore you, my people! In the remotest past, we once lost our chance and the favor of the gods! But the Lord of Storms is merciful! He has given us his miracles again, he has given us Take away our chance to be with him!"

"My compatriots, I implore you! I implore you to raise your heads and look up to the sky! Rejoice! Jump for joy! Because this storm is the revelation of his coming!"

When Ahriman arrived, the fanatical preaching had been going on for a while, and the company commander of Thousand Sons could not help but frown, because he noticed an inexplicable fanaticism exuding among the people around him.

But it was not difficult to solve. Ahriman's two fingers were slowly closed, and the crazy preacher involuntarily clenched his throat. He seemed to be unable to breathe suddenly, and fell backwards. From the high platform, only the sound of flesh being shattered into pieces could be heard.

"Is the matter resolved?"

Phrix's voice came from the communicator, and what answered him was Ahriman's unprecedented solemnity.

"No, worse."

Captain Qianzi was very sure that the psychic power he had just limited was not enough to kill this man, and would only make him kneel down due to slight lack of oxygen - and the scene in front of him was like a premeditated sacrifice. .

Yes, sacrifice.

Almost at the same time as the preacher fell, Phrix could hear hoarse roars from the crowd, coming from all directions around him.

"murder!"

"These lackeys of the evil god! They want to plunder our divine grace!"

"Kill them! In the name of the Storm Lord!"

Screams like this soon appeared in droves, and the Iron Warriors were shocked to find that the quiet people seemed to have suddenly turned into another kind of creature: they took off their cold coats, revealing ocher bodies with golden snakes carved inside. Robe, that is the symbol of the Sons of Sitan.

Swords, axes, automatic guns and even logging guns began to appear on their fingers, shooting at everyone without mercy, whether it was the Astartes or the panicked people.

When Felix saw those children of several years old and even pregnant women shouting wildly and raising their weapons, his surprise finally turned into a roar in the communicator.

"What the hell is going on?"

What answered him was Ahriman's bitter laughter. The power of the Thousand Sons was surging crazily, trying their best to build invisible protective shields for every fleeing resident.

"Remember what we discussed before, Felix, like I said..."

"Objective conditions do not allow it."

——————

Not even the Astartes could stop the flow of blood.

Screams filled the streets as the Sons of Sitan struck with blades and bullets from every sinister corner, slaughtering everyone without hesitation, hundreds falling in the first minutes of the attack.

Dozens of Astartes were trapped in the frenzy of tens of thousands of people. The murderers and the victims were gnashing at each other in front of them. Even the most experienced warriors did not dare to open fire at will at this time. Ahriman and Frix stood guard in the most chaotic place like a tower. Whenever one of their explosive bombs was launched along with the indicator and intuition, it would harvest the lives of three or five cultists, and then witness these crazy opponents. Kill more people with indiscriminate attacks.

"This can't go on like this."

Volex's blast ripped apart another masked killer, and then he saw a rocket launcher pointed at him.

Grass!

The Iron Warrior mustered up his courage. Under the low roar of Phrix, his huge shoulder armor successfully resisted the death-killing god. Ahriman's shield opened at the most ingenious moment. The storm of shrapnel saved the Iron Warrior and the hundreds of mortals behind him.

Before the attackers could scream in annoyance, they were torn into pieces by the violent counterattack, and scorching flames continued to emerge from the muzzles of the Astartes' guns, burning every sinful heart to ashes.

Just after Freex ensured that the rocket launcher would no longer pose any threat, he suddenly heard a burst of laughter. The Iron Warriors quickly confirmed that it was not laughter, but a whisper, a wave. , a surge in the spiritual realm that he cannot explain.

Ahriman's sigh came to his ears, which was a kind of relief that reinforcements had arrived.

Along with this sigh, a wonderful picture suddenly unfolded in front of Felix's eyes: he saw those swords, guns and sticks suddenly falling to the ground, and their master also lost his manic soul in an instant. He observed that The expressions on each face have solidified, as if a calm god is deliberately shaping them to look calm.

Then, the hands of these sons of Sitan slowly fell, and blue light floated around them. They all lowered their heads, as if their souls had been taken away, and they just stood there, letting the survivors pass by them. They fled one after another.

Phrix was still stunned, and Ahriman made a gesture to his men. The Thousand Sons who had previously formed a human wall separation safety zone with the Iron Warriors stepped forward, and they smashed them without hesitation. Take the head of every son of Sitan.

Just as all this was happening, the Stormbird finally stopped in the middle of the street. The son of Perturabo saw a slender and tall woman walking out of it, with blue eyes lingering around her. light.

With the appearance of this scene, a ridiculous idea began to emerge in Phrix's mind, until he saw Ahriman talking to the visitor with respect, until the introduction of the Thousand Sons reached his ears.

"This is Ms. Morgan, the Legion's senior advisor."

[I don’t remember that I have this title. 】

This is a taciturn person, Felix thought as he looked at her face.

"Believe me, Morgan, just now, you saved thousands of people of the empire. Any hero who did such a thing is fully worthy of such an honor. Everyone present will testify for you, including Frix."

The Iron Warrior just nodded numbly, and his inquiry was quietly transmitted to Ahriman through the communicator.

"How did she do it, or what exactly did she do?"

"It's nothing complicated. First, you need to accurately predict each son of Sitan at an altitude of several thousand meters, and then use the power of psychic energy to control their minds and bodies until the ground troops' explosive bombs penetrate their heads. That's it. .”

"Sounds easy...can you do it?"

"..."

"Everyone has their own strengths. Ms. Morgan is a master of mind control. If it weren't for her gender, she would have been a Thousand Sons."

Felix's steel face twitched from time to time, and he still couldn't properly accept everything in front of him.

"A mortal who may be more powerful than us, and you accept it so calmly?"

Faced with the Iron Warrior's question, Ahriman just let out an arrogant laugh.

"This is the magic of psychic energy and the subspace... Of course you won't understand it."

Phrix's breathing continued to be hoarse with suspicion, and when the silver-haired lady slowly walked away, Ahriman patted him on the shoulder.

"It's okay, Felix, I know how you feel, but there's absolutely no need for you to be afraid of her."

"You know, I am her guarantor."

"It doesn't matter if you really feel uneasy. We are about to meet the original body together. You can come with us. Trust me, you will like her."

"Even your primarch would be the same."

Phrix narrowed his eyes, and he felt something was wrong. The arrogant and reserved Ahriman seemed to be too optimistic about this mortal, as if he was bewitched.

Bewitch...

As soon as this word appeared, Felix shook his head with self-mockery. He opened his mouth, but in the end he did not spit out any doubts.

The Incident of the Dawn Star was written by the Black Library, taken from the book Prospero's Lord, and its translation is available on site b.

Therefore, whether it is the joint disaster relief of the two legions, or the restrained Astartes, or even the later appearance of Perturabo with a personality that is not right, they were all written by GW themselves. Maybe they happened to be at this time That's it~