Warhammer: Start with a dog

The smell of burning and thin smoke filled the hall, replacing the smell of sacred mechanical incense and maintenance oil. The trance made this place almost look like the era of the legion era, which was not bright and glorious but was still bright with stars.

The Hall of Reflection was silent.

The machine spirits stopped whispering in unison.

Talos listened to the communications in his helmet from various points on the ship, and for the first time since the Night Lords' legions had last assembled at Thesaguarsa, he felt that things were back on track. The ship, the Echo of the Damned, was being returned to their control methodically, ruthlessly and efficiently.

Maybe this time we can give the company commander a decent burial, the pyre a hero deserves, and burn whatever is left to ashes, lest anyone try to keep resurrecting the legendary hero as if In this way, the former power of the Legion can be restored.

——But——What a pity, Markarian, his commander, the hero of the legion——Although Talos felt that if he had learned the news before today, he would not sigh for his fall, but would definitely persevere. You have to give your company commander a neat rest with your own hands, but these days are different from the past, maybe - after all -

“Ave dominus nox!!!!!”

Abruptly.

A loud, booming, resonating mechanical sound like a hundred cannons or a thousand pipe organs repeated the eulogy.

Soul hunter, prophet, or former pharmacist Talos Valcolan of the 10th Company of the Eighth Legion suddenly raised his head in disbelief, but the bat-winged skull's visor covered his face at this moment, and his expression at this moment was expressionless. People learn.

"Ave dominus nox! . . . Oh my God, why can't I move - please forgive my rudeness, my lord, I greet you."

"Hello, War Philosopher. Well, it seems that the key point is indeed here." Lamizane nodded, "And who will do this is completely debatable, although the actual impact will be very different. The same thing, but with different results.”

(*...Hmph. But before you test it, you can't be sure whether Markarian will wake up as you guessed. You are still gambling with his life, you hypocritical hypocrite.)

"Hypocrisy and hypocrite have repeated meanings. It's best not to use them together in this way. It will appear that you don't have enough marks in the cultural class."

(*I don’t need any cultural classes! I don’t need anyone to give me grades!)

"Oh, okay, then you will have everything you have."

The Mechanical Bishop was still maintaining his shocked and pleading actions, but under his flashing lenses, he began to mutter in binary language in disbelief about the situation in front of him. Obviously, this mechanical priest has been greatly angered to some extent by this awakening ceremony that was rough and failed for him but completely unreasonable and perfectly successful... subverting certain three views and common sense.

"Besides, this is not the first time. You have seen me many times use everything you can see to plan an action and achieve the goal. My life wisdom warns me: don't put your words in words before it succeeds. The success rate is 100%. In short, let’s drink a cup of Reka coffee for our success... I seriously doubt that there is no Reka coffee here, which is bad news.”

(*...Hmph!!!! You make everything that could have ended simply so complicated and make everyone's brains a mess. What good is this?)

"What good?" Lamizane couldn't help but laugh. In the eyes of Talos and the other First Claws who had just walked in to prepare a report and take a closer look at the real original body, the Midnight Ghost showed its sharp teeth like a shark. , using a smile without emotion to greet his descendants when they meet again after ten thousand years.

"This is the benefit." The original body of the Eighth Legion stepped forward and touched the exquisite colorful reliefs depicting the achievements on Dauntless's body. As a hammer man, Lamizane can quite understand that Dietrian is unwilling to give up such a person. The painstakingly hand-painted limited edition chess piece... the mood of the sarcophagus - and at the same time unlocked the shackles on the fearless limbs, "Aren't you happy? You are obviously very happy - what does this smell like? A strange... fishy smell The smell of rain?”

(*(very impatient tone) You don’t have to worry about such small things!...I admit that you changed some trivial details, but you can’t change the final result. This is how I see it, and this is how they will happen. , ends like this.)

There were some rattling sounds from the inside of Fearless, similar to the sliding of gears or bullet chains. Lamizane felt that this might be the other party nervously clearing his throat.

"My Lord. If I knew that you would be the one to pick me up in the afterlife, I should have found a chance to make my death more heroic and unrecyclable."

The tall, pale and haggard human figure nodded towards the war giant in front of him, his interest visibly increased.

(*…I insist that you are no more terrible at playing house than I am.)

"There's progress, a lot of progress. You've even begun to understand that playing house is a fun activity, which is good."

(*You...you are really inexplicably optimistic! Just as inexplicable as your scene beautification!)

The chassis motor of the War Philosopher was roaring. Although Fearless did not have the joints to bend over at all, the Terran veteran still insisted on saluting, and also skillfully ignored the strange words that his Highness just said. .

"Oh, then you have come to the right world. Do you know where this is?"

"My data system has not been connected to the database update yet. I don't know, my master."

"This is Tessaguarsa, Malcharion."

The Dauntless's loud voice was obviously silent for the first time since he woke up - it could even be said that he flinched. "It seems that I may have really come to the afterlife. Nostramo is destroyed, so we can only meet here? My lord, I must say that everything is much better than I thought so far."

Talos shifted his weight to the other foot, and the subtle sound of ceramic steel friction finally made Malcharion, who had been focusing on the lost and recovered Primarch, finally notice him.

"Talos!" he shouted, "My God, little Talos, you are here too! And Shar, did you die with them? How did you die?"

Lami Zain's face, which had been trying to keep tight, finally relaxed.

"Okay, Malcharion," he said, "We are not dead. You are too."

The Dauntless's roar stopped, and the sensors on his sarcophagus kept flashing.

"It was Dietrian who saved you and just tried to wake you up."

"But - you - I - once - saw it with my own eyes -"

"Yes, the head of the Night Ghost of Nostramo was cut off by the daughter of Callidus ten thousand years ago." The Night King nodded calmly, "and it was in the castle where tens of thousands of my descendants are, witnessed by the officers composed of you."

Everyone in the hall trembled at the soul level for this terrible statement and the meaning behind it. Some Night Lords, such as Talos and Makutian, clenched their weapons with shame and anger, while others tightened their muscles more vigilantly, ready to attack at any time, or more likely, escape.

"But, but, then you -"

"So now in front of you is."

(*angry hissing)

"Your father, Konrad Curze."

(*Shameful!!! You thief who stole other people's descendants!!! I will skin you alive!!!!!!)