Warhammer: Start with a dog

【what happened? ! Where is this? ! Perturabo? ! Pepe, Pepe, where are you? ! Ahhhhh? ! I don't want to see it! I don’t want to see it! ! ! Perturabo! Save me! 】

Although the helpless yelling of this weird mortal in the spiritual sea sounded to Coz - the voice was neither tragic nor melodious enough, and the content was not innovative at all, more like the meaningless jumping of a small insect. but--

As the little insect hissed and screeched, the Midnight Ghost's black eyes took in the multitude of human skin, blood, and bones that adorned the ancient Nostramo as they adorned his incurable offspring. The texture of the midnight-colored armor with lightning patterns from an almost lightless perspective has really... become... less realistic?

What's happening here? This is a great weakening of the weapon of fear! He filed down his shark-like sharp teeth with his tongue in dissatisfaction.

But... from another perspective, this unique power is quite concerning. What kind of indescribable extra power is hidden under the skin of the original body by his fourth brother who has become less human? Things that even he can't see through?

But even now, Conrad Coates still has no intention of playing the role of nanny or guide for this unique soul. There must be someone in this galaxy who is very good at teaching others, but it must not be him.

Are you kidding me? Midnight ghosts will never have any connection with words such as nanny, guide, guide, etc.

The Eighth Primarch licked the tips of his sharpened teeth, which scratched the surface of his tongue. The subtle smell of blood made him feel an ancient sense of peace.

He did a good job of hiding the fact that he and the other party were one and the same and could hear the other party's screams. He just continued to use his eyes to lead the other party across these scarred, tattered, ancient and bloody places. Armor surface.

On the one hand, this was due to some instinctive intuition deep in his heart, and on the other hand, it was out of his own interest: he did not use his craftsmanship to skin a few human skins alive in front of this uninvited guest. After some relief, Midnight Ghost thought that he was so friendly and compassionate, so the other party must be able to understand.

[(Gutella swears), look at this bat-winged helmet... These people are definitely the Night Lords, right? Night Lords... Damn it, I can't tell whether they are loyal or not just by looking at their appearance? ! 】

Loyal?

The ghost of Nostramo chuckled silently.

The poisoned legion is destined to have no loyalty and future.

And what the Lord of Mankind needs is not... After all, Curze understood his intentions better than anyone else from the first moment he saw him.

With a sudden feeling of frustration, everything fixed by the fasteners shook. The drop pod and everything inside began to tremble violently, the air became as hot as an oven, and the edges of the human skin decorated on the surface of the power armor began to quickly shrink and curl.

Coze knew just by feeling that this meant that they had entered the gray, cold, sand-filled inner atmosphere of Thessaguarsa, and began the final rhythm before landing to bring carnage to the people here.

[What is this thing looking at them? Is this perspective a servo skull? ! I have to die, I have to die, is this environment inside an airborne warehouse? ! Ahhh, Perturabo? ! Pepe! ? Hello? ! can you hear me? ! Pepe! Save me! ... Damn it, why does it seem like it’s still on the way to landing? ! I remember that the Astartes drop pods seemed to be disposable, right? Can this thing still be recycled? ! Ah ah ah, it won’t turn into some unlucky Istvan replica. Don’t let this happen! 】

Did he think I was a servo skull? Midnight Ghost once again exposed his sharp teeth in the shadows. The mortal's too casual guess made him faintly unhappy. In addition, things like fear claws are not disposable... This guy doesn't seem to care about Asta at all. The ability to identify special equipment and... actual combat experience.

Was he being protected too well by Perturabo and the others?

Conrad Coates almost thought for a moment, and slowly drew a twisted upward curve on his pale thin lips.

In this case...

——————————

When Lamizane's eyes followed his body and landed on the first Night Lord on the left, he began to be fascinated by the cruel and frightening things that someone's eyes saw from this warrior... Scream? To Curze's surprise, no.

Was Ramizan Carosini scared?

He was indeed frightened. There was no doubt that emotions such as shock, fear, disbelief, etc. were effectively transmitted to every nerve ending of the Midnight Ghost. But when Coz, who knew so much about human nature, was about to taste the sweet fear in it, …

The pale original body frowned in the darkness, and his black hair was messy and brushed past his face. Why are this mortal's emotions so... rich and dull, real but alienated, one side is so human while the other side is so... So inhuman...it made him feel strangely familiar...as if...

But when he wanted to continue exploring, the interference of the endless fog made Midnight Ghost irritated.

He decided to continue using his gift to show Ramizane the immediate future of the members of the First Claw who sat within the Dreadclaw.

The one closest to them was wearing a scarred and poorly maintained Mark III helmet. A bloody handprint that had turned into a dim red was imprinted on the center of his helmet's visor. Judging from the size, it was probably imprinted by him himself. Although they couldn't see it, they could "feel" him drooling in his helmet, and in the few moments he was awake, he vaguely growled behind the ventilation grille, "Blood sacrifice to the blood god, skull sacrifice to the first emperor." "Eighth Legion", the screen darkened a bit, and then they saw the Night Lord crouching in the shelter of the residential area like a huge hound, using a huge chain saw ax to transform all the living people he encountered into Turned into blood and minced flesh, leaving the corpses of people struggling to survive floating in their own pools of blood in the cities where they would land.

On the other side, the pharmacist who was probably from the Thirteenth Legion calmly selected his favorite target among the frightened or courageous residents, peeled off the skin from all over the body, and dragged the body back, like a certain A carnivore who wants to hoard food. Apart from the difference in eye color, lack of fear of light, and gene-seed sequence, this apothecary couldn't be more like a Night Lord in the art of inflicting fear.

Then they looked over one by one. There was no surprise, there was more killing, death, extinction, blood, fear, and corpses.

Oh, there is one here, there is actually one with a unique death. The man's fate was almost glorious enough to make Curze wrinkle his nose and make a sound of disgust - how could a killer of the Eighth Legion die in the same manner as a soldier of the First, Seventh or Thirteenth Legion? ? This is inappropriate.

But apparently the soul inside him saw it differently.

[Hey, compared with the previous ones, this person actually looks pretty good... No! He also took action! Ah, sometimes there really can’t be a worse comparison than the bottom line...]

The Eighth Primarch scoffed at this and turned his fateful gaze to the next person.

——————

The Midnight Lords' airdrop pods cut through the gray sky above this border planet with a majestic rumbling sound, shining magnificently on the sky like a huge iron meteorite, announcing their arrival to the residents here. , falling towards the ground in an indomitable manner.

Lamizane and the Eighth Primarch looked together, silently watching through the scarlet vision on the non-existent eyepiece amidst the intense heat, sound and movement of the Dreadclaw machine soul roaring into the atmosphere with ecstasy. , what this warrior named Sirion will do for a period of time after landing.

When they landed, they first killed the engineers who came to explore - the residents here lacked resources and did not even carry any decent weapons.

Then they unleashed the Eighth Legion's ancient and famous declaration of fear into the poor, slowly dying planet's only communications channel, beginning with what seemed to the unsuspecting inhabitants a rather self-righteous justification for the killing, "Tonight, We are here for you” ended.

[Ah, this is really meaningless! You’ll know just by looking! The residents of this place live on their last legs and are extremely poor! Can't even come up with a decent long-distance communicator! Who can hear this announcement? ! To whom? ! Ahhhh, I really can't stand it anymore! Is this how Konrad Coze taught you to senselessly massacre a weak people who are almost defenseless and have never attacked you! You uneducated XX! 】

I didn't...well maybe...it's just that they were too stupid and too poisoned to understand my unspoken teachings. The spectators answered silently in their hearts.

Then they saw together that Sirion killed every human they met after landing with precision and cruelty. Precision because the wounds of each deceased had the same angle, knife mark and non-lethal nature in the first few minutes. The victim The pain of the attacker and the stability of the hands of the attacker well show the skill and skill of this Night Lord in the art of skinning alive...

[(Extremely angry Gutera swears) This scumbag deliberately turns a corner to harm a child who is hiding? ! Oh my God, this scene... what about the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood... and what the hell are they saying about 'This will hurt, but it won't last long'? ! ... His perception of human beings is not quite right, right? ! Didn't this (gu Terra swear) thing provoke some Silver Palace stuff? ! 】

Is there anything wrong with this sentence? Curze tilted his head in the shadows. From his personal point of view and what happened next, he thought that it was obvious that Selion had his own unique hobby and artistic point of view in the art of skinning.

As for those parts of Selion's soul that were tainted by the Prince of Darkness.

obviously.

Curze silently thought that his descendants, from the last time he saw them alive to now, more or less, even those who most obeyed his orders, in order to survive——

Just like he said.

After he dies, what will happen to this group of pathetic, criminal, and hateful juvenile delinquents, scum, and killers?

In order to survive...

on one's last legs.

This is true.

Midnight Ghost smiled without joy under his black hair.

The next second, Lamizane found that his sight was pulled back from those blue hunting visions full of life outlines and Nostramo runes.

The Dreadclaw was still roaring in the shock of landing, and time seemed to pass only a short moment.

The influence of the planet's gravity became more and more obvious. The midnight lords' patchwork and painted midnight blue power armor with lightning patterns and the scarred weapons emitted the sound of hungry servo currents.

Their desire for fresh hearts and flesh is unabashed and impatient.

[Ah ah ah ah ah I can’t stand it. What’s going on with this planet? !So many residents really don’t even have a basic planetary guard! No counterattack, no army, just ordinary families and children! (Gutella swears)! Is there any way to prevent this from happening? ! 】

Cozz shook his body dissatisfied, trying to suppress the increasingly excited voice in his head. The unfamiliar surge of emotions that he had picked over just now was hitting him, but he didn't like this kind of emotion. It was too rigid and unnecessary. , redundant, straightforward, stupid.

【Can't go on like this! Gotta think of a way! Damn it! Everyone here will be killed... Perturabo? ! Perturabo? ! Pepe? ! Angron? ! Fulgrim? ! Utherma Atra? ! Master Kadu'er? ! Can anyone hear me? ! Hello? ! 】

Wait a moment.

The Eighth Primarch narrowed his eyes.

That weird Queen of Glory actually had more than just Perturabo, Dorne, Angron and Malcador on board?

…What do you guys want to do when you gather in the same place?

No, why didn't I foresee this at all?

When...something is wrong...where...I...am...I...?

who I am……?

【hateful! ! ! You can't do anything just by looking at it! 】

Yes. That's right. It's good to watch the ending and choose to end everything early. You don't have to think too much, because this is the most direct way and the least labor-intensive way.

Fear is the most universal language of obedience that humans understand.

exactly!

[It would be nice if at least I had a body that could move now...]

So I am...

[At least I have a body that can do something...]

I am……

————

The airdrop cabin has been on the ground for a while, but unlike the other seven Claws' booming communication channels, at this moment, everything in and around the First Claw's cabin was quiet.

————

Ramizan Carosini blinked, then blinked again.

He took a step forward.

There were no windows or doors at all, and there were no lights. Even the Astartes' eyepieces were dim, and everything was shrouded in darkness.

But he saw it clearly.

He took another step forward.

The cold and greasy feel under the soles of his feet told him that he was barefoot.

The five remaining members of the First Claw sat in their restraints, staring at him, dumbfounded.

The first one to react was the former Red Pirate's pharmacist.

Trembling, he connected the common channel of all the Night Lords on the planet on the communication bead in his helmet.

"He's back!" he hissed, shouting desperately as the other Night Lords jeered at him or roared to reap their lives.

"He is back!"

The others who finally reacted also opened their communication beads like crazy.

"Where is Talos?!"

"Bring the prophet here quickly!"

"He is back! He is back! Our father - he is back!"