Warhammer: Start with a dog

A looming mist shrouded the battlefield where the smoke was still lingering.

The afterglow of the artificial sunset and the sparks that explode from time to time make the fog look colorful and ethereal.

"Father...!...cough cough cough!"

The figure that stumbled out of the pharmacist's workshop still had several scattered infusion cables hanging on it.

The haggard, gray face of Captain Felix Cassandra of the 42nd Company of the 7th Legion emerged ghostly from the fog.

The Space Marine had just forced himself out of the medical bay with incredible tenacity and perseverance, and came to his genetic father, holding only his twin bolters tightly in his hands.

The Captain of the Imperial Fists shook his head, his vision blurring.

The severe tinnitus and headache must have affected his judgment. How could the original body, which was as tall as a mountain and as firm as a rock, become so small... The armor was not... a gorgeous golden armor.

But the natural, mysterious feeling of blood connection engraved in each spiral and established by more additional chains of genetic code is unmistakable.

From this distance, Dorn could see that Cassandra's pupils sometimes narrowed like needlepoints and sometimes dilated - due to drug suppression. It was obvious that the original owner of this body was struggling to wake up.

"you……"

"Cassandra." His original body stared at him. The lines as hard as the cliff in the captain's memory were softened by the young and flawless face. The original body almost sighed and shook his head. Duodu explained the current situation to his descendants.

"You are seriously injured, soldier. It's time for you to go back and rest."

"I can still fight." The unyielding Imperial Fist raised his head, "Please allow me to fight with you. My Lord...I...I...I will guard this fortress...I...Nine Heads Snake..."

His brows knitted together deeply. Confusing memories and thoughts were taking their toll on him.

"The battle here is over, you should go back and rest."

"I...I...I remember...Fabius...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Son of the Emperor! Rebellious! Fabius!" The soldier of the Seventh Legion hugged his own in pain head. "We...finally..."

The Primarch of the Imperial Fists watched the last echoes of his son's unyielding soul with a compassion that no one had ever had the pleasure to see.

"Yes, as a warrior of the Imperial Fists, your duties have been completed long ago. You have done a good job. You can go and rest, Felix."

"...I couldn't make it back to Terra...to be with you..." Dorn's son's eyes burst out with the last light before leaving, "...I'm very happy...to see you at last... Father……"

"See you again, Felix."

The tall body finally fell slowly at the feet of the Praetorian Guards. Both the Imperial Fists and the Iron Warriors lay there lifelessly, just like they did ten thousand years ago.

"I was awarded the title of Lord Protector in the most noble place of the empire. I used the mountain formation and the golden armor as an unshakable high wall..."

Rogal Dorn watched as his son returned to a higher realm.

"...Gold is just the ashes after the moment when a star briefly and brilliantly illuminates the universe. But I am very relieved, my son, you are still here, you are still fighting. Although there is little hope in this universe, it Still exist…”

"I hope you're right."

The sigh after thousands of years finally fell to the ground.

The sound of hurried footsteps came from the corner of the corridor.

——

solar galaxy.

Sacred Terra Synchronous Orbit.

All those aboard the Phalanx at this moment - both extraordinary Space Marines and serving mortals - heard the mysterious harmony of ancient metal.

The extremely old Phalanx sang softly, just as it had when it had carried the Emperor of Mankind and his champions on their galactic expeditions.

The Sons of Dorn, either with tears in their eyes or with wild joy, knelt on one knee, weapons in hand, and murmured prayers to the Primarch and the Emperor.

The psykers eagerly used their powers, trying to find a faint hint from the ghostly cracks.

Does this mean a new ray of hope?

In the secret room of the monastery in the deepest part of the mountain formation.

Thor Galadon stared at the bones of his father's hand.

——

[So who made the main door of the interrogation room so strong and added additional triggering mechanisms? 】Perturabo, who could only stay in the observation room because his helmet was broken by "Stupid Aharin", growled at the Terminator impatiently.

The herald's speed at dismantling the gate was obviously a little faster due to the impossibility.

[It has been a full three minutes. Let’s just use the wet parts to make an iron ring out of this useless waste. 】

[Be at ease, be calm, take a deep breath, take a deep breath. Pepe. ] Lamizane quickly took action to calm down the fearless man who was about to move his power claws at the back of Aharin's head - specifically, he used his hands to scratch and rub the border collie's plush head.

[After all, he is the only one who is removing the door lock... This shows that even the small door locks of the Iron Blood are both offensive and defensive, and the construction quality is so high, which is a good thing, Perturabo! 】

[Tickle the hollow one centimeter from the base of the ear five times. My LOGOS has a whole set of precision tools built into the right arm of my LOGOS. Why don't you go and dismantle it? Forget it, the result of letting you go is probably that the unexpected tool will fly out and hit something unexpected. 】

[Hmm, cough, cough, cough. I think Aharin will be able to open it soon. Has the iron ring responsible for delivering your helmet arrived at the door? 】

[…Isn’t this what I want to ask you? My visual interaction equipment and precise signal converters are all integrated into a special helmet. Without the helmet, I cannot receive and give such complex instructions. There is no way to install interfaces and biological relay plugs on my head. 】

The dog stared at his silly and wandering body very suspiciously, "You haven't given any instructions to my work assistant until now, have you?" 】

[Of course not, ahem, of course I sent it! But that means it might take a while...but...it seems like, huh? Any interference? 】

[Communication interference occurred on the Iron Blood today? Absolutely not. ] Perturabo frowned visibly in black and white, [There is something wrong with this matter. 】

"Aharin."

The Terminator, who was concentrating on removing the last key link bolt in one go, almost knocked it crooked with a hammer.

"Yes, my lord?"

"When was the last time you issued an order to someone else? Aharin, has anyone tried to contact you since then?"

The herald's already very pale face suddenly became so pale that it would put the Raven Guard hanging there to shame.

Gua.

There's another update at six o'clock, I should be able to finish it.

(；Д｀)

It’s too small, I didn’t take care of N and I was knocked down by N (I was infected with influenza A by a relative) The onset of disease is super fast ()

But it has just been released and everyone supports me so much. I can’t let down everyone’s support so much. I will keep two updates today!

(Lying dead (Lying dead))