Warhammer: Start with a dog
Chapter 21 Please check your express delivery
combustion.
Devour.
Unreasonable.
bleed.
pain.
Cry.
scream.
Was he screaming?
He couldn't tell.
Uriel Ventris is "hanging" in his "position", swaying with the progress of the demon "steam" locomotive.
His comrade, close friend and companion, Pasanius Lessani, was not far away, also "hanging".
When it is necessary to use the word "hang" to describe the current situation of an Astartes, although it is not the most appropriate, it is still quite appropriate——
The thick, barbed demonic slaughtering meat hook was brutally and mercilessly inserted into the backs of the two of them. The supernatural power broke through the solid blue ceramic armor, allowing the slaughtering hook to be buried deeply. into their flesh and blood.
Its hard hook part was deeply embedded, and the metal scraped against their fused rib plates. It caused great pain and also made the two Astartes lose more strength to struggle, as if they were waiting for something. Like large slaughtered animals, they were hung next to the blazing corpse fire.
A figure, a figure that is almost three heads taller than the average Space Marine, is standing next to the boiler of the demon engine locomotive, directing eight indescribable humanoid faceless demons composed of octopus tentacles and sarcoma to continuously add corpse fragments. It's hard to say exactly what it is, except that the entity controlled by this evil being appears to have once been an Iron Warrior.
The deformed and bloated giant's head was surrounded by an iron crown, and the spikes on it seemed to emerge from his skull through the helmet.
The original yellow and black blurred stripes could still be faintly seen on the iron-gray power armor, which was extremely old in style, crudely made, and discolored by the steam of millions of years of human ashes and grease.
On one of his shoulder armors, the sacred legion crest of the Iron Warriors who once fought for the Empire was emerging on the eight-pointed star of Chaos Astartes that symbolized endless hatred, pain and evil: a man with a strange smile The sinister skeletal face reflected with its teeth the engine's piston boiler that was spewing out more corpse ashes and stinking steam of roasted human flesh.
He or it, turned around, muttered something loudly, urging the squirming humanoid sarcomas to use their tentacle-like hands to add headless torsos and stumps to the locomotive boiler with shovel after shovel. He was covered with strange flesh. The claws covered with shavings and ashes of corpse oil grasped a huge sharp hooked sickle.
Ventris saw that Pasanius's eyes were closed tightly. The wound on the soldier's neck that had been cut by the demon scythe had completely stopped bleeding. Lariman cells had formed a thin film on it. Thank God they were still in the subspace. working normally.
The former fourth company commander's still clear thoughts just passed by in a flash. His brain was now physically mixed with his stomach, and then was pulled forward behind his navel. Even if it was an Astartes transformation The last physical fitness, traveling directly through the subspace with a demon prince in the physical body - oh, just thinking about this thought is so blasphemous - is also beyond the limit.
No matter what it was before or what it is now, it must have been completely crazy to be able to continuously change its existence in this way. Scattered in billions of timelines of the past, present and future - travel -
——It actually calls this kind of hellish torture as ——travel——
The wanderer forced himself not to think too much about these inanimate things. It was his tendency to think outside the rules that brought him and his companions to where they are now——
Ventress's nose was so poisoned by the foul smell of this impossible hellish boiler that it almost failed. Fortunately, his third lung at least ensured that he could still breathe, and his enhanced olfactory nerves were telling him that he smelled How perverted and disgusting that stuff actually is.
His eyeballs were roasted dry and uncomfortable by the heat. The pressure from the inside of his occipital bone seemed to make his eyeballs explode in their sockets. He had a splitting headache. He couldn't help but look. He closed his eyes and saw countless worlds unfolding from his eyes. Passing by.
The hungry and wriggling tentacles of the sarcoma demon brushed against his body from time to time, curling up on his calves - he felt uncontrollably nauseated - and then roared away by the being wearing the iron crown and the human skin apron. Amidst the mutterings, garbled prophecies, wild laughter, and the stench of men and women being burnt to a crisp by the flames of hell, along the endless traces of blood spanning most of the galaxy——
The colorless and multicolored void cracked and merged finely, like the colorful oily water surface being stirred——
He was pulled through countless time and space, countless faces with blurred souls - the world seemed to be completely composed of hopeless gray and stagnant eyes, and he was just a mortal in it. He was born, lived, grew old and died. It was broken, and then something In this digital space-like world, mountains of silicon, rivers of gold, each piece of code is one - the void is once again split into millions of fragments, and his own soul leaks out of this world and the subspace on each crystal fragment. A gap in the void - he did not know what or who he was - he stared in horror at the white and majestic fortress of Hera - she was so beautiful - the golden gates fell to the cheers of the monsters - the demons in the primarch's Reveling in the temple—singing and dancing on his body—profaning his body—his soul molten and weeping as he gazed into the shattered void—
Why is his existence filled with so much anger, helplessness and sadness - he is about to be blended, and his name is about to disappear into this primitive ocean that is swallowed unconsciously - but his will was there The oath sworn in the magnificent white-gold fortress - he is Uriel Ventris - he is the emperor's warrior - he will never surrender to the devil -
The demon prince, smoldering with flames and corpse oil, came over again, shaking his head, and the pair of yellow eyes like a cold-blooded animal in the eye sockets of the helmet peered out maliciously.
It stretched out its charred and foul-smelling claws and clasped Ventris's jaw. The latter gasped, sweat dripping down, soaking his hair, flowing through his service nails, collecting on his chin, and flowing into the devil's claws. Astartes' eyes were unfocused, and he was like a drowning man who had just been fished out, helplessly opening his mouth to suck air in the devil's claws.
"It seems we-"
A loud crack of silence echoed in the plane beyond the range of human hearing, interrupting the demon prince's words and causing him to roar with anger and hatred.
It threw away the Space Marine in its hand and held its huge hooked scythe. Eight demons with converging sarcoma tentacles advanced for it. Its gaze was directed towards the entrance where the unnatural flames of the demon engine were burning.
"Who!" the giant roared, "who dares to disturb this holy and filthy journey!"
The rectangular light leading to the outside world was obscured by a shaking silver-gray figure, and then another, a group of Terminator veterans and others appeared there accompanied by the teleportation sparks and the smell of ozone.
They were fully armed, and the think tank director in the team was surrounded by blue lightning. He raised his hands to release his power. The boundary of his group energy shield was consuming each other with the blue-green flames of the demon engine, making a sizzling lick. Voice.
The gray-white skull mask emblems swinging on the black and silver-edged shoulder armor of the unwelcome visitors seemed to be stabbed, causing the Iron-Crowned Giant to let out a heart-rending howl of malice.
"Liar!!!! Shameless betrayal!!!! Liar!!!!"
The leading Space Marine said nothing, but raised his weapon.
The last thing Uriel Ventris saw out of the corner of his vision blurred by various liquids was that they were steadily advancing and shooting, engaging in battle, and fighting against the demons.
Then he felt as if his brain and spinal cord were being penetrated by a red-hot barbecue knife and twitching back and forth. He was bleeding, he was in pain, and he completely lost consciousness.
( ̄▽ ̄) Let us give a grand welcome to those who were delivered by courier——! Ventris and Pasanius! Hahahahaha! Happy reading! See you tomorrow!
(My new quilt and hat still haven’t been delivered. It’s been almost a week. The astrologer is hiding under the skin man’s fur and typing on the input pad)
In addition, regarding the feeling that epilepsy is still unfulfilled: Yes, your feeling is right, because you have to go through trial
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