Warhammer: Start with a dog

"Damn it! He won't lose control of his strength right here and burst himself?! Pharmacist! Hurry up!"

"His body metabolism has completely exceeded the normal metabolic rate of a Space Marine! Our stock of Astartes-specific anesthetics is already very small! - I have told you many times not to casually blow up the opposite ship. Or a settlement! At least wait until you get enough resources before blowing it up!"

"Tsk! Then talk to Talos! It was he who ordered the light spears and cyclone torpedoes to be fired at those places!"

"...Tsk. Hold him down for me! I'm going to give him another shot!"

————————

Talos Volkorlan let out a long exhalation sound again from his skull helmet with double bat wings, like the last breath squeezed from the lungs of a dying man.

His vision was once again filled with the soft light red light curtain in the helmet, which was low and comfortable for the black eyes brought by the Midnight Lord gene.

His second heart began to help the first heart return to normal working levels, and the prophet could gradually feel his body returning to the physical universe.

"Ahem...!"

He opened his mouth and felt that his mouth was dry. An unpleasant strong chemical smell filled the back of his tongue. The symptoms of dehydration in his body were obvious, almost reaching the level of muscle damage. He vaguely remembered this sentence and seemed to be a winner. The gesture was also said to Luwin.

Ah, look, this is really a turn of events.

He grinned silently, but at least he was still in his armor, alive and with all his limbs intact. Instead of being like that unlucky guy who was not only stripped naked and hung up, but also ended up becoming a decoration on the bridge.

Genetically enhanced ears picked up the whispers of the crew slaves on the bridge, "He's awake," "He's back," "The prophet is back," and so on.

The realization that he had become the incarnation of some kind of hope and worship in the ship and its little world made him feel a strong, uncomfortable vomiting sensation rising from the very bottom of his stomach.

Great, it looks like I did experience a predicted epileptic seizure, but how long ago?

Talos suddenly realized that he was tightly tied to the command throne by iron chains. He immediately glanced around sarcastically: The loyal First Claw (Fire Claw: a unique squad classification of the Night Lords) brothers are still here. Now, everyone is staring at him.

The faces of each Night Lord are concealed by their helmets: the ruby-red eyepieces sparkle under the wings of the flying bat on Charr's head; a bright red blood handprint dazzlingly cuts across Ursus's entire visor; Selion's The eyepieces were dotted with streaks of lightning around and below them, like the splash of tears; the decorative brass rings still shimmered on the thick, curved horns of Markushen's helmet.

There seemed no sign of mutiny or treachery.

Then his brothers need to give him more explanations.

Pharmacist Valier was next to him, still holding the injection he had just injected.

"If you don't wake up, there will be nothing I can do. Don't move around right away, you will feel very weak."

The pharmacist's cold eyes and his gentle voice formed a contrast that would make most patients feel horrified, "Eight weeks, it will be eight weeks soon. I dug through the inventory and gave you an eight-week injection. Sedatives and nutritional fluids, lest you become too debilitated during your attack and trigger your Su-Ann meninges to enter a state of suspended animation."

Eight weeks, he was secretly surprised, it had never been so long. Talos smiled, "But we have an apothecary, don't we?"

"Yes, but the training I received did not include how to risk waking up the state of suspended animation you entered in such a situation alone when supplies are very scarce." Valier retorted to him, and at the same time noticed his schematic gesture. Tightening the chains, "Oh, of course."

The pharmacist pressed the gauntlet of his equipment, and the saw blade that popped up began to cut the chains that locked him.

The First Claws gathered around him parted slightly, allowing them to speak to each other.

"You've been having this seizure for too long. We've never seen anything like this. Did you see anything in your dream?"

"Believe me, I have never experienced such a long-lasting attack." But the meaning behind this sentence made the prophet silent for a moment, "I...didn't I shout loudly? Didn't I shout out my prophecy? I didn't say Show me what I saw?"

"No." Ciel shook his head. Ciel, he would not lie to Talos, "Except for the orders you repeated at the beginning and the sudden scream that just before you woke up, 'They are coming,' the entire For fifty-five days and nights you said nothing, you just stood there quietly convulsing and trying to suffocate yourself to death, and rumors that you were dead began to spread throughout the ship after the first week."

"So this is why you tied me up here for everyone to worship? This feels so heretical to me, man."

They shrugged, and some even laughed, "We can't drive the whole ship here ourselves, we need to appease the crew and the slaves."

"Indeed - you woke up at the right time, and we arrived here just in time."

"Are you here? Here?" Talos raised his head and began to try to stand up. The pharmacist was right, he felt the weakness in his limbs. "where?"

"do not you remember?"

"Remember what?" The prophet straightened up and began to look forward. The porthole in front of the bridge showed a dark, obscure world of barren dust with traces of cities on it.

"This is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," Selion said. "Isn't this what you asked us to come? Your order, you said, 'Let us go back there, back to the wight world, back to Thesaguarsa.' "

——————————

"About twenty-four million inhabitants to harvest, twenty-four million screaming and sipping hearts." The Night Lord licked his lips, tightening his throat for the sweet fear he was about to taste, "Distributed across Among the six settlements, all Talons should start preparing for the landing of the drop pods."

"Shouldn't we fall to the ground and run all the way back to this desolate place just for a simple harvest?" Someone muttered, "Every one of us knows the past of this planet. This place has been affected by Curse. The curse of the Primarch."

Talos glanced sternly at the speaker, but when he summoned these brothers, he also discovered a depressing fact: fighting in the void for a long time, aimlessly killing, and the process of constantly being betrayed and redeemed. , the members of the 10th and 11th Great Companies have almost been lost, and some Lieclaws have only one or two people left in name only.

And Selion's previous statement that they could not sail the ship on their own was actually stating a fact: including Talos himself, and even counting the blood-eyed raptors that could no longer stand up and could only crawl with their claws, they only had a total of eighty. A Night Lord gathered on this huge cruiser.

They are just a small remnant and echo of the past legion in the void.

he thought.

But this does not mean that the puppet emperor's lackeys can casually colonize our once second home and the burial place of our father.

Kill them all.

I must reorganize all the claws to full strength, except for the first claw, which still has six people to guard it, otherwise he will be very unhappy.

"Brothers, we must reorganize the Lietal Claws to full strength, except for the First Lieutenant..."

The Prophet suddenly stopped speaking. Because the pause was so abrupt, the Night Lords who were beginning to clamor with each other for leadership of the Talon stopped because of his words.

Talos felt cold, slick sweat flow over the neural interface on the back of his neck.

That tingling sensation must be inflamed because the neural interface has been inserted for too long without moving.

No.

somebody is coming.

Someone did come.

Someone was staring at the back of his neck, their eyes like slender claws. Talos could almost feel the sharp lightning claws as they penetrated under the axis of his neck, sharply disconnecting his spinal nerves and cervical vertebrae. , a sharp claw inserted into his neural interface...

"Acrius Toshallion! (Midnight is approaching, vengeance is coming!) Ave Dominus Nox! (Hail! Lord of the Night!)"

Talos screamed at the overwhelming sensation flooding his body.