Warhammer: Start with a dog

Today was starting to feel long and unnerving to him.

Lufrix—the champion of the Weeping Eye, the master of the birds of prey, the leader of the hunting pack—or rather the former captain of the Eleventh Company thought so.

We just want to live, I don't like this, I don't like fighting, but I don't want to die even more, I... just want to be free...

So I……

He stopped on the ceiling, turned his head, and stared deeply into the direction of someone just now through the crimson eyepiece lens on the iron mask that had been twisted to the point of deformation.

Just now, when he was about to escape with the hunting group, abandon the other Lieclaws who were fighting the gang jumpers, and give up the position to the intruders, he suddenly received a message in his helmet that he thought would never be possible again. The order came from a highest priority that had been dormant for centuries.

Lord Konrad Curze ordered members of the Weeping Eye to "reconnaissance" throughout the ship.

Yes, reconnaissance, he even told them very thoughtfully: "Don't fight", "Get away immediately if you are discovered", "Don't get entangled" and "You can retreat immediately after the reconnaissance is over"!

Lufrix deeply suspected that their genetic father had foreseen that the Eyes of Weeping Blood would never fight to the death with their enemies.

Although this was their original plan, it was another matter that the father of genes pointed out this plan in advance in the company channel.

Lufrix thought in annoyance. His sharp claws and claws curled up, scratching traces on the steel surface of the ceiling. The other blood eyes also grabbed onto the walls or pipes like clusters of gargoyles, pushing forward from behind. The weapons sprayed sparks, raising their heads like animal heads to gaze at their leader.

In the end, without spending more seconds, Commander Blood Eye made a decision.

He hissed and growled in his visor, and the other raptors tilted their heads to look at him little by little in their helmets, which had been tilted at an unusual angle by the influence of subspace over the years, like falcons. Or an owl, the precise angles and strange rhythm of its movements are anything but human.

After a series of gurgling neighs and a few conversations in human language, the Primarch's orders finally suppressed the hunter's instinct.

At the urging of their leader, they dispersed reluctantly, moving away from the ceiling and higher and darker places, and disappeared from Loufrix's senses.

Then the blood-eyed leader's sharp claws clung to the ceiling, and he spread out his limbs and ran quickly in a certain direction.

——————

a moment ago.

(*I obviously...have shown everything Talos foresaw before your eyes, why do you still say that to them.)

"Well...because I also saw who jumped to help this ship."

(*Heh, you little bastards raised by the self-righteous Guilliman. What, you want this matter to be resolved peacefully? What a rare naivety. Perturabo wouldn’t keep you in a canary cage just because of this. )

"To be honest, the caged canary was used to detect the concentration of poisonous gas when going down the mine. Your allusion is not very good for you. Of course, you probably haven't used it before, so I decided not to argue with you. ”

(*You don’t understand at all! You have never seen what I have seen! You are avoiding your fear by talking nonsense like this. You are afraid of killing and the consequences of killing.)

"That's not the case, or rather killing is not an unacceptable or unacceptable method, but as far as I know killing is not the best and only method."

(*Ah, what a simple mind, you have not yet realized the only truth to which man will obey. Then your fears will taste fresher, stronger and sweeter the moment they are discovered.)

"...What are you talking about? Eat something good."

(*(sudden pause)...Kalshiel*\u0026*(*()(\u0026...\u0026*...*(￥#@%￥ @!!!)

After feeling someone's strong and spicy anger and frustration, a trace of sour grievance and the high-speed vibrating fancy Nostramo tongue-sounding curse words, Lamizane nodded with satisfaction.

Well, how can a young man slump there every minute, twisting and screaming, prophesying and crawling in darkness - first of all, he must have a little vitality!

The other Night Lords were accustomed to watching their father standing there and having a serious conversation with the dark void.

Apart from……

"Do you know... what 'piggy talk' is?" Makutian asked quietly in his helmet. "What's the special meaning of "leaving a nest"? Why do you need to eat something good?"

"I have never heard of such a statement, and I don't know either." Ciel replied a little irritably, "But keep an eye on Ursus, don't let him rush out and be beaten into a sieve."

The brother they mentioned was red-eyed, holding his chainsaw, licking his teeth in his helmet, sucking in the taste of blood dripping from his tongue.

But Sirion remained silent. The Smiling Lord, who always smiled, was sweating profusely, his muscles were tense, and he was holding his bolter tightly.

Valiel was ordered to stay behind, not to prepare his weapons, but to prepare at least six syringes of the powerful rapid anesthetic specifically designed for Space Marines. How to get it and install it is Valier's business.

"Come here." Their father, who was dressed like a beggar but stood there and was extremely noble, briefly ordered them, "come here, all come here, yes, right here, stand here and don't move. Remember, if you see the Origin Chapter The Shield Champion rushes towards you with his comrades. You can shoot freely, but you must wait until he advances twenty-two feet from your current position and point at the blue cable on the ceiling. Fire a shot."

"My lord." The Night Lords looked at each other in confusion, and finally Selion spoke. His voice didn't sound as smooth as usual, but as if someone had put hot coals under his tongue.

"My lord, I am not..."

The pair of dark eyes glanced at his visor painted with strange tears, and a shuddering heat once again rose straight from Selion's tailbone into his brainstem. He tasted emotions he had never experienced before in the receptors on his tongue. The taste and his father's extreme anger almost made him unsteady, but he persisted.

In a gorgeous palace far away, one being threw the silver cup in his hand angrily, while another was laughing and ecstatically creating more cracked reflections of crystals, and the last one was shouting and urging him not to completely The surrendered hound.

They all heard Ursus growl inarticulately, drooling like the beast that drove him in his mind, and reached for his chain axe, Ciel and Makutian holding him down tightly.

"Don't worry, Sai. They won't launch a surprise attack and they won't be too fast, because the leader is holding a jump shield. It's too narrow here for him."

So Sirion swallowed what he was about to say and asked another question, "Then if they shoot at us, how should we respond until they advance to twenty-two feet? My Lord."

"As long as you don't leave this spot, you can fight back any way you want," the Eighth Primarch's voice sounded disinterested. "They won't shoot at you."

He raised his voice a little, but only enough to turn the wine-whispering whispers of a vicious lover in the night into the sighs of poetry recited in a thorn garden, "But you must obey my instructions exactly."

After taking a final glance around here, Midnight Ghost nodded to his descendants and continued.

His black hair flowed and he dissolved into the shadows before them like an elegant nightmare.

Only at this moment did Selion really dare to take a deep breath.

"Did you...see it?!"

"Yes."

"That is……"

After turning the last corner, the crackling and roaring sounds of Thunder Hammer's energy suddenly became clear, interrupting their conversation.

Carrying a terrifying giant thunder hammer, he wore brilliant scarlet and bronze battle armor, and the Terminator Cross made of white stone on his left shoulder armor proudly proclaimed the ancient and glorious origins and history of this set of power armor.

The emblem of the Origin Chapter shines in ultramarine marble and black iron on his right shoulder, and the edge paint on the pauldrons of his comrades shows that they are all members of the 3rd Company.

"Draw your sword."

They heard the champion's orders coming from behind his thick helmet. Every Space Marine across from them wearing crimson and bronze armor threw away their bolters and drew their pistols and short swords.

One terminator, three warriors.

"Oh, Lord of the Night."

But as they heard the Gene Father say moments before.

- "They won't shoot at you."

So they didn't move.

As the Night Lords poured all their firepower into the huge shield protected by the wings of the golden eagle, their cousin's champion roared from behind the helmet's loudspeaker grille and began to charge:

"I am the doomsday of heretics, the scourge of traitors. I am Tolemion of the Origin Chapter, the guardian of the West. I will annihilate——"