Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"Yes, I understand."

"In addition to the original itinerary, when drawing up a list of personnel for the Primarch's guards when visiting the Endurance in the future, the Ultramarines and their Primarchs will accompany us, so the number of people can be limited to fifteen, and think tank candidates should be excluded as much as possible."

"Yes, I know, and I will also prepare the corresponding breathing filtration equipment."

"Anything else: Primarch wants the casualty figures on Ullanor?"

"No problem, I'll send it over right away."

"..."

"Hu——"

Take off the pager hanging on the cochlea, put it in front of your eyes, and stare at it carefully until the last ray of light is annihilated: After doing all this, the actual second-in-command of the entire Dawnbreaker Legion, Morgan's chief of guards, breathed a sigh of relief, and a few drops of sweat slid from his temples into the armor.

"Why are you so nervous, Rana?"

Such an obvious abnormality naturally could not escape the eyes of his companions, especially when Hector, who was now walking side by side with Rana and had already had the first golden service nail on his proud forehead: as an armored behemoth more than twice as tall as ordinary battle brothers, Morgan's service nail was naturally astonishingly large, just the size of the eye sockets of other battle brothers.

He was stroking the nail, like a miser stroking his gold coins: for an Astartes warrior, nothing can get everyone's respect more immediately than a few golden service nails.

If you can put two golden service nails on your head, even the Primarch will stop and listen carefully to your advice: the same is true in the Dawnbreaker Legion.

In this culture that is not recorded in any written dictionary, but is only passed down orally in the legion, the Dawnbreakers have always followed their big brother, the solid and reliable Dark Angels, so the nails on their foreheads are the same as those of the Dark Angels, with one silver nail representing fifty years, or one gold nail representing a hundred years.

Rana has two gold nails and one silver nail on his forehead, and he is accumulating his third gold nail. His situation best represents the current situation of most Terran veterans in the Dawnbreaker Legion: However, Hector heard that in the mysterious Primarch's guard, there is indeed more than one old monster who can already have three gold nails on his forehead.

He even heard that there is an ultimate old monster with four gold nails: but this should be pure rumor.

The most orthodox chronicles of the Empire have not yet recorded four hundred years: let alone some legends that don't even have a name.

Of course, no one knows the specific names of the Primarch's guards: being able to be the Primarch's personal guard is undoubtedly the highest honor in this ancient legion. Morgan naturally never thought of depriving the names of the powerful heirs who can obtain these honors, but the Legion Council and the Primarch's guards united and rarely refuted the idea of ​​the Gene Primarch.

This somewhat helpless situation ended with the Primarch's concession: except for Lana, the chief of the guards, all Morgan's guards temporarily hid their names and piles of past achievements, and the relevant files were listed as the highest confidential files until they died gloriously in battle, and the files would be declassified, and the contents would be transformed into praises for a legendary warrior, engraved on their monuments.

But in addition to this, these nameless warriors will also receive more compensation: they are wearing Terminator armor that can only be made with the personal guidance of the Primarch; holding the nameless blades that Morgan personally gave them, which can effectively damage the Primarch; their bodies are covered with psychic amplification decorations given by Morgan according to each person's habits and combat habits, and their unique martial arts in the Legion are even more iconic proof.

All this ensures one thing: if the leadership such as Morgan, Lana and Virgo suddenly lose contact collectively, the Dawnbreakers know who they need to find as the temporary manager of the Legion to avoid the biggest threat hidden in the single-core overclocking operation system that Avalon currently relies on.

Of course, these problems are still far away from Hector today. Although he is recognized as the future of the Legion, considering the special nature of the sons of Morgan: the threshold of this sentence [The future is yours] is estimated to extend to the day when he puts the second golden service nail on his forehead.

But by then, maybe there will be four golden nails all over the Aurora.

Hector muttered to himself in a dull voice, and glanced at the chief of the guards who was in a state of panic: he had personally witnessed the scene of Morgan's most trusted son confronting three orc warriors at the same time on Ullanor, and Lana was not as nervous as he is now.

It's really strange...

He thought so and asked so.

"Isn't it Virgo? We met her a few days ago: she is indeed a little girl who is deeply trusted by her mother, but you don't need to be so nervous, right? Are you afraid that she will say bad things about you in front of the Primarch?"

"That's not the case: our gene mother is not so confused about right and wrong."

Lana put away the communicator, thinking about the new task assigned to him by the Primarch through Virgo in his mind, and answered Hector's questions in a clear and logical manner: the brain and lips were dealing with two completely opposite things, but there was no confusion.

It is said that after leading his own legion for a long time, each Primarch will have a subtle influence on his descendants, making them more like themselves: Morgan's performance in this regard is that the current senior and even middle-level officers of the Dawnbreaker can more or less do multiple things at the same time and learn to deal with problems in multiple threads.

"What really made me prepare for the battle was the tone or attitude of that little girl."

Rana touched his chin, and seemed to be a little unsure of his own point of view.

"I don't know if it's my illusion, but after spending so much time together, I feel that the little girl's gestures are becoming more and more like our genetic mother: I have also seen other so-called primarch maids, but I have never felt this in them."

"This is not a bad thing, but every time she speaks to me in an almost commanding tone, I will instinctively feel that I am talking to the primarch, and then I will take a corresponding attitude: I suspect this may be the effect of some kind of psychic power."

"Isn't she psychic?"

"Who knows: theoretically she shouldn't even be a living thing."

Rana sighed and mourned for his miserable situation: he had been with the primarch for nearly a hundred years, but he always felt that he seemed to know nothing about his mother, whether it was her or the strange... household items around her.

Whether it was Virgo, who was becoming increasingly unfathomable in his eyes; or the robed man who looked like an alien but had a fixed food bowl in the Primarch's room; or Sergeant Trazyn, who had always been favored by the Primarch but never revealed his true identity and had never been promoted; or the pet cat who had long passed the biological life limit and looked half-dead every day, but had been half-dead for almost half a century.

Every time I walked into the Primarch's office, it was like walking into a living, fantasy forest-themed museum.

After thinking about it, the most reassuring person in the Primarch's office was actually the midnight ghost who liked to sit on the sweeping robot recently and was working hard to defeat the robed man in the glass bead game, and the Lord of Ravens who was occasionally pulled over by the midnight ghost to stay up late and play games together in the name of relieving pressure.

Such a home environment made him start to worry about the Primarch's mental health, and even physical health: after all, the food expenses of the [Inner Ring] of the Legion, which were recently listed under his name, were decreasing at a visible speed, and several restaurants even sent people to see if there was any problem with him, the [old customer].

Hey... Hey, wait?

Lana seemed to remember something.

Restaurant...

The chief of the guards stopped and turned his head to look at the road sign not far away: these things that seemed completely useless to the Astartes warriors were very popular on the Aurora, because the internal design of this warship largely took into account the living conditions of millions of mortal crew members on it.

Over time, the Dawnbreakers also learned to coexist with these useless things: after all, they can occasionally become useful.

Just like now.

"We are now on the main road leading to the Hall of the Three Daughters, right."

"Yes."

Hector took a step forward, and the huge shadow covered the three-meter-high sign, easily pointing out their location.

"The Hall of the Three Daughters is one of the main transportation hubs on this ship, and it is also almost the most important public activity area. Its main parts are three public squares open all day long: Lady Euton Square, Kelly Fanny Square and Cassia Square. The first two are close friends of the Primarch, and the latter is not only a close friend of the Primarch, but also the chief navigator of the entire 23rd Expeditionary Fleet."

"I know all this."

Rana nodded.

"I mean: the food street is on the left side of the Hall of the Three Daughters, right?"

"It's ten minutes away from us."

"That's perfect: let's go to the food street before going to the Camlan Council Hall."

"What are you going there for? There are still two hours before dinner time."

"I have something to confirm."

Rana tapped his temple, then motioned Hector to keep up with him. The two continued to move along the main road of the ship. The shadow of the iron tower floated over countless paintings and reliefs that boasted the former glory of the Dawnbreaker Legion: Although they were on the upper deck, the number of mortals here was still far greater than that of the Astartes.

"Rather, it seems that there are not many active fighting brothers here today."

When passing a corner, Rana confirmed his guess: there is an arena next to him that is always popular, but today, except for a few sentries at key positions, he can't see any fighting brothers.

"Of course not many."

Hector next to him is not surprised.

"Have you forgotten that today and tomorrow are the unified entrance examination days for several military colleges in the mortal residential area on the lower deck. Every year, tens of thousands of kids participate: those fighting brothers who have no military missions will be caught in these two days and used as invigilators. On average, there are 30 students and 3 teachers in each examination room, and thousands of brothers will be recruited."

"Ah, I remember."

Rana patted his head.

"How can I say this is too exaggerated: one brother is enough for each examination room."

"You can never imagine what methods those little bastards will use to cheat: let me put it this way, one year the cheating student is working in the military research department of the original body, and there is another school where the candidates have united to build the entire school wall into a sensor, but the most serious is said to be that some candidates will worship some strange test gods before the exam."

"How did you know?"

"He wrote all the full-mark answers on his answer sheet, but the problem is that there are only 33 questions on the test paper, and he wrote 34 answers, which are exactly the same as the 34th question that was deleted during the ordering process: his answer sheet was printed incorrectly, and the space for the 34th question was printed."

"This is the most serious Heavy?"

"At least that's what the Primarch thought. The punishment for cheating students in that class was particularly severe: I remember it was three or five years ago, at least longer ago. I had never heard of the God of Exams on the lower deck, but it suddenly appeared in recent years, and it seems that there are cheating students like this every year."

Hector was amazed. He and Lana kept the same speed and stepped into the core position of the Queen of Glory one after another: there were obviously more pedestrians and guards here, some well-known names in the legion, and mortals who took advantage of the holiday to visit the upper deck alone or with their families saluted them, and exchanged greetings and smiles for the two nods.

"I noticed that these mortals seem to be holding some flyers in their hands."

Rana glanced at a little girl grinning at him. She was holding a flyer tightly, as if she had found a treasure. On it were a string of numbers and symbols, as well as a silhouette of a beautiful mortal woman: even for an Astarte with a heart as gentle as water, the appearance of this mortal lady was absolutely stunning.

"Where are they going?"

The chief guard noticed that in the past ten minutes, most of the mortals he met were heading in one direction: this was a well-connected ship center, and a total of 55 public passages leading to different areas could be found outside the Three Daughters' Hall.

"These people?"

Hector stretched out his hand and motioned for Rana to look at the posters on the wall.

"They should all be in a hurry to attend Ms. Catherine's personal art show. It is said that the performance today will be an opera with six acts and a total duration of six hours. Art exhibitions like this have been held many times. It is said that some officers even take annual leave to watch them."

"Catherine? The narrator?"

"Yes, the blue-haired Ms. Terra has unique insights into opera and many art fields. There is no one in the entire empire who can match her. As early as 20 years ago, she was an idol of the entire empire: even in our legion, there are many fighting brothers who think that her choice of us instead of Fulgrim's Third Legion is a great victory for the Dawnbreakers."

"I don't think so."

Rana snorted a few times, and he glanced at the posters posted everywhere with annoyance.

"Great victories can only be won with blood and sacrifice, not music."

"Who knows?"

"Anyway, Ms. Catherine's reputation is indeed very hot during this period. Several soldiers in the Queen's Guards died in duels in order to win her favor and get a date. Most of her works are in praise of the Primarch. I heard that they will soon be copied into the music textbooks of the schools on the lower deck."

Hector's indifferent attitude aggravated Lana's disgust. Although there was no practical reason, the chief of the guards still felt that something was wrong with this matter based on his instinctive reaction after serving for more than two hundred years. Perhaps he should suggest to the Mother of Genes to ban these messy so-called art performances, or at least limit them to the lower deck.

He was not worried that this matter would cause protests from the mortals on the ship: because this was the biggest difference between Morgan and Guilliman. When facing real problems, the Spider Queen had the ability to suppress the dissatisfaction in the hearts of the people. She would never be as indecisive as the Macragge people.

The chief of the guards, in a state of overlapping worry and complacency, flashed around a secluded corner with Hector. Instead of choosing the main road with a lot of people, they plunged into the secret door that was only for the fighting brothers to pass through: secret doors like this were scattered throughout the Aurora Goddess, which ensured that each large area could get reinforcements from another area within ten minutes.

It was also good for taking shortcuts.

In the slightly dim shortcut, Rana carefully counted the secret doors that appeared every ten meters and the numbers on them. After confirming the corresponding numbers, they knocked on the door and then walked in: in front of them was a staircase that had to be looked up to see, and a fighting brother who had just put away his gun.

After saying hello and walking out, it was the famous restaurant street, and behind them was an extremely inconspicuous guard booth: in every corner of the restaurant street that was several kilometers long, guard booths like this were everywhere.

"Cheap and effective means of cover."

Lana smiled, and then carefully observed the surrounding situation: Probably because there are big events happening on the upper and lower decks that can affect the hearts of tens of thousands of people. On weekdays, there are always people coming and going, and the restaurant street that is packed with people is today. It actually looked a little bleak, with more clerks than customers wandering around. The chefs and waiters, who often had dozens of scars on their bodies, talked about their past achievements.

On the twenty-meter-high ceiling, thousands of fluorescent lamps are adjusting their brightness to match the time on the big clock in the distance: the three o'clock bell drifts lazily over, the same as the only pedestrians on the street. Leisurely, looking around, except for a few couples chatting with each other on the benches and a few officers doing nothing on vacation, only a small circle farther away is noticeable.

Lana saw from a distance that it was a female officer whom he had some impression of, strolling with her two five or six-year-old children: she seemed to think that the kebabs in the twin brothers' hands were prettier than her own. A quarrel ensued, causing both children to sit on the ground in pain, leaving only the mother who was also squatting.

"Stop looking."

Somehow, this unremarkable scene attracted Lana's attention. Before Hector patted his shoulder, he was addicted to the warmth of this crying scene and was distracted for almost a minute: A warm feeling that he had almost never experienced before rippled in his heart.

How strange.

The chief guard touched his forehead: Maybe he hasn't rested for too long?

"Rana, you haven't told me what the two of us are doing here?"

Hector raised his head and took stock of the restaurants that were still open: maybe he could treat himself to afternoon tea later.

"Ah, right."

Rana took out a report.

"Let's go to Catachan's restaurant. I want to verify the casualty report on Ullanor that I received not long ago."

"Casualty report?"

Hector raised his eyebrows, and his expression when he said these words was like looking at a monster with three heads.

"We have casualties on Ullanor?"

"No one was killed in action, but counting the minor and serious injuries after missing, there are 300 people."

"Three hundred people?"

Hector laughed outright.

"Even if we fight for a month in an apocalyptic war, the entire legion may not lose two hundred brothers: As a result, we stayed on the safe Ullanor for a few weeks, and we lost three hundred in one fell swoop. Brother? This is enough to send me to court martial ten times."

"You know, the Legion thing."

Lana spread out and said.

"For the Dawnbreakers: Peace is often more dangerous than war."

"Look at this."

He handed the report to Hector.

"Okay, let me see."

Hector took the paper and read: Then he quickly frowned.

"Um……"

"Falling down, getting lost, food poisoning, excessive drinking, campfire accidents, not returning from travel, fights, real sword fights, emotional ups and downs, shooting competitions going wrong, drag racing competitions hitting the wall, courage competitions to challenge the Imperial Guards, truth-telling competitions to express one's feelings. The Sisters of Silence, a dare and a truth-telling contest to ask about the hair volume of the Wolf Goddess..."

"Being accidentally injured while riding a mech slave, being accidentally injured while playing as a Green Skin, being intentionally injured while playing as Sanguinius, common poisoning, not-so-uncommon poisoning, getting unparalleled from Bayer of the Emperor's Children is poisoning, Being crushed to the ground by Glocksmon in heat, crushed by a marble block for carving On the ground, he was crushed to the ground by a wall of orc skulls, pressed into the soil by the crumbling ruins of the ancient library, injured by the Thousand Sons who came to rob the library ruins, and together with the Thousand Sons, were struck by a strange silver skull in the library. The robot was injured and then knocked down while returning in a mortal car..."

"Being knocked out by the Valkyrie falling from the sky, being knocked out by the airdrop pod falling from the sky, being knocked out by the white scar falling from the sky, being knocked out by the Spear of Dionysus falling from the sky, being knocked out by Sanguinius falling from the sky..."

"Injured while eating at Catachan restaurant."

"Injured while helping out at Catachan restaurant."

"Injured while defaulting on bill at Catachan restaurant."

"I was bitten by ingredients while helping the kitchen at Catachan restaurant to offset my default..."

"Bitten by tableware..."

"Injured by kitchen utensils..."

"I was accidentally injured by the chef while helping him kill the kitchen utensils..."

"While helping diners kill tableware, I was accidentally injured by the midnight ghost who came to help..."

"When helping the chef and the kitchenware to catch the Midnight Ghost who tried to take advantage of the opportunity to refuse to pay, he was bitten by the food that was bound by the lack of tableware and was poisoned..."

"..."

"How's it going, Hector?"

"I understand something, Rana."

"What happened?"

"I finally understand why there are no universities on our ships."