Warhammer: Start with a dog

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"Sometimes I think...this dream is too real."

When the voice he was now extremely familiar with sounded from behind him, Honso, now a Red Pirate envoy to the Black Legion and the commander of the "agreed" reinforcements, was concentrating on the battle to come. Doing careful pre-battle calculations - although he is accustomed to calculating military strength only on paper The cold numbers on the face, but the numbers are his own, not others'. If he still wants to delay enough time according to the original plan, then he must try his best to preserve the effective strength of his unit in the next countless battles until Abaddon withdrew, was defeated and routed, or - Abaddon won? Let’s leave this possibility to last.

Damn old Luft Huron fox! Instead of playing conspiracy, play conspiracy instead, right? Indeed, by owning a star fort, he had to shoulder corresponding war responsibilities and demonstrate his abilities... But he remembered this account! Hum hum, everyone is a Chaos person, who wouldn’t secretly leave a backup plan for themselves? But not now...

But Honso couldn't ignore the voice.

The War Blacksmith, who now misses the days when he was a pure potion master with a caring little apprentice to serve, old enemies to take revenge on, and a joyful experiment to make, sighed and sat in the revolving steel office he specially made for himself. on the chair without lifting himself up His butt turned around so that he could face his current warband champion who was standing behind him, looking out the window with his arms folded, considered to be Khorne's beloved warrior, the Dark Apostle, the Demonic Possessor, "The Undefeated" Mercury - if only he really was such a person!

If only I had known that this Primarch was not even a single word the same as what was described in those outright liar books written by the little man who started the state religion and praised his virtues! He would never think of choosing such a god who could never be given away to put on his head as his own merit! Why is he so greedy that he swallows the elephant like a snake? Once you grab the Indomitable, you should run away in time! Half of the Ultramarines 5th Company, a navigator fleet, a escort fleet, and an entire operational Ramirez-class star fort are actually good enough for the first opening...

Look now! Even if he successfully grabbed it, he couldn't use it as his own victory and bait as originally planned. In the end, it aroused additional suspicion from the Black Heart King: What does the blue eyes from the dark apostle who came to his door mean in the world of chaos? It's all clear.

He withdrew his thoughts and thought about how to respond to the words of the man who was now a superior in both senses.

However, the other party then spoke on his own, which made Hongsuo sigh with relief and feel at the same time.

"Is this dream tainted with the warp really a dream? Honso, has my brother mentioned to you the conclusions of his further research on this creation?"

Robert Guilliman - now a figure with a pair of small demonic horns and scriptures tattooed on his skin and armor, is looking at the black void outside the porthole of the fortress assigned to them, and the one that occupies The huge black stone body of the Eternal Will is within half the field of vision, as well as the huge black chaos fleet flying with the Eternal Will in the void. "Things have come to a point where the heresies and blasphemies I have seen along the way have surpassed all the ugly traitors I have seen in the past two centuries combined. I must admit, I have seen so many things that I have never seen before. I have imagined things that have made me unsure several times. Why is it that what I see exceeds my imagination? Is this place really not a real purgatory?”

The Primarch of the Ultramarines, who wore the appearance of a demonic apostle, was unhappy. “What makes me even more confused, sad, and puzzled,” he said, “is when I try to get deeper into more people to see why they are Ten thousand years after that betrayal The many confessions I heard as I plunged into heretical lies and threw myself into the fires of eternal damnation made me very, very sad and even more angry." He clenched his fists, and Honso went on. Start sighing.

Sure enough, Guilliman hit the activated black stone that was used as a table hard. The thing shrank and began to cry at a frequency that tortured Lyman's ears, like a tormented person. Even so, everything here did not dare to move. These twisted creations formed by injecting the essence of subspace into black stone stayed in place tremblingly, enduring the "venting" behavior of the superior in their eyes.

"My camouflage tattoos, scrolls and scripture armor seemed to make many of them think I was a priest, a confessor, someone to talk to."

Guilliman turned around, his amber eyes shining in the shadows, "I expected to hear stories of corruption due to greed, lust, or other evil deeds, which would make me think that they will be in our killing. He deserved his death, but the person who truly fell for committing such a crime would not want to come to me to confess. . Everyone who came to me to confess told a story that made me want to hang an imperial official or high lord. If the empire my father dreamed of building was half as bad and corrupt as they said, it would be a disaster for the loyalists. It’s a really desperate situation for us, and I guess I’m not surprised why some people would choose to turn to Chaos.”

"So when you were walking among the heretics, you heard some stories of betrayal that tortured your soul and disturbed your conscience. Is that right?" the War Blacksmith pointed out, "My lord, I am an apothecary, not a so-called priest. I may not be that good at healing a Primarch's mind, but since you told me this, I think I can recommend a spiritual strengthening remedy that my comrades love and use."

"What cure?"

"Please read with me:" Honsou raised his head and read out the words that he had heard Soltarn read before. Although he had never read it himself, at this moment he felt that the power was indeed coming from his teeth. It flows out from between the tongue and the tongue, and takes shape like a hammer striking a steel block on an anvil. "Steel becomes strength, and strength becomes strong will; strong will makes faith, and faith makes tough iron."

The Primarch of the Ultramarines stared intently at the Warsmith.

"According to one of my...old comrades-in-arms, this medicine is very useful in strengthening the soul at Lions Gate Airport." Honso said politely.

Guilliman snorted heavily. It was obvious that his anger was successfully interrupted by this unexpected approach when he was heading towards a certain corner, but it has not disappeared yet.

"I think you should think about it from another direction. First of all, we have been in the warp and heresy recently, especially here. We are here waiting for the meeting to be held, but Blackstone Fortress is undoubtedly because of the corruption of the warp. Only if you can take action, although your soul is pure and safe, the environment is subtle and you have no experience in resisting it. You should always remind yourself of this and be careful. "

Hong Suo saw the other person's expression was horrified and then suddenly began to calm down. The invisible surge of power under his skin faded like a tide, and the sound of the activated furniture in the room also calmed down. "You go on."

"Secondly, what you are listening to here are the confessions of heretics. Perhaps some of them have indeed been wronged, but even if the situation is so bad, there are still people who stick to their loyalty, right? To the respectable For the adherents, their loyalty is only They are given to this collapsing empire, because if they give up their loyalty, it will be the same as what they have been fighting for their entire lives. The nameless sacrifices of loyal people to protect mankind form the cornerstone of human existence today, or us. Let’s talk a little more deeply.” The war blacksmith's voice was as cold as the freezer in his laboratory. "There are almost no places worth protecting in this empire. The forced sacrifices are labeled as righteous... My father also thinks so, Therefore, after he experienced loyalty and betrayal, Deciding that neither was the final path...he managed to escape the decaying corpse of the Empire with the fragments of your brothers. We, together with my respected fathers, we are now guarding the hidden front, not the Empire, not you. A powerless father, but..."

The primarch's eyes flashed, and Honso knew that he understood. As for what the primarch understood, it was not something he needed to worry about.

There were footsteps outside the door, and then Abaddon's herald knocked on their cabin door. The Warmaster's Chaos fleet is only a day's journey from Cadia, and the Great Reaver is summoning all warlords of their own power to the council chambers.

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Draula Morcas was following Abaddon's request, carefully observing and accepting the thoughts of all those assembled in the chamber as he announced his declaration of victory and subsequent battle plans.

This conference hall activated and controlled by her has the effect of increasing her mind-reading ability and can help her better read the thoughts in these people's minds, because she originally had to concentrate to carefully read the exact words of a single person. Thoughts, and there were too many people here and too many mixed thoughts, it was like a wasteland full of weird weeds and wildflowers. Without the help of the conference hall, it would be difficult for her to distinguish individual thoughts from them. be visualized.

This is why the Warmaster usually doesn't summon all the chosen lords at once when he has such a request from her, but today's situation is special.

She had just observed the mind of Urkanthos, the representative warlord of the Khorne forces and the Lord of the Black Fleet, filled with blood and pain. Whenever the red light behind his head dimmed, the Butcher's Nail would be like a syringe of blood. As more bright red was dripped into it, only Abaddon, her great and powerful father's command as cold as the wind, could make this vicious dog temporarily put away its fangs and force itself to calm down.

The hall now contains so many veterans, traitors, heretics and cultists that those in the last row have to squeeze together, stepping on their hoofs or clashing their weapons. Bumping, lest you accidentally stand between the two huge rows of teeth at the door that serve as door panels.

Of course, there are also some cultists or heretics who will consciously leave a circle around them for everyone else. That is where members of the Nurgle warband "Bringer of Decay" from Skyrak Killborn or their bloated servants stay. .

Even though they are also servants of the dark god, several other warlords and lords chosen by Abaddon and their men are not willing to get close to their companions. In addition to the spreading plague, there is also an unbearable stench, and perhaps only the plague. The soldiers themselves were happy with this.

For example, at this moment, Mocas saw behind Urkanthos, the yellow-green plague cloud was wrapped around the back of Lord Skylark's head like thick phlegm in the lungs of a dying patient, and his thoughts were among them. Countless buzzing flies, they were chaotic, dense, unknown but constantly breeding. When she observed that these thought flies hatched from the Plague Lord's brain in the form of fat white maggots, she pinched He held his fingers to suppress the vomiting feeling out of habit and averted his eyes.

Let’s take a look at this head. This is Devram Koda, the lord who is now in charge of the Slaanesh warband in the Warmaster’s Black Legion. He was also once a colleague of the Warmaster. The chaos and confusion in his mind Narration and confession are like a kind of continuous torture, expressed as beautiful verses and patterns written by the patient on the glass with his fingertips and his own blood, while his cruelty is recalling the pain of drinking ten billion souls. The pleasure of essence - her father's face flashed through it, she couldn't catch the thought, but she didn't plan to give up spying on him later.

Next to Kodak is Zara Feston, a supreme wizard lord from the Thousand Sons Legion. There are rumors that this name is just a position-like title, but no one knows whether this rumor passed down is true. Because at this moment, Mokas observed that countless eyes opened in the mind of the warlord who represented Tzeentch. They were like colorful soap bubbles that burst and emerged one after another, changing and changing in countless ways. Numerous possibilities become clusters of subtle changes, forming more recognizable words that emerge on top, each tempting those who can see them to take the path the wizard wants them to take.

The next person standing there was the war blacksmith Colom Gate who returned at the call of the Warmaster. He wore a gun-steel-colored helmet with the characteristics of the Fourth Legion. He was once an Iron Warrior and is now a member of the Black Legion, and The representative of the undivided forces of chaos here, the mental image of the war blacksmith is not only difficult to understand for Mocas, but also instinctively daunting to a young man: What floats above his head is an extremely terrifying number of numbers, formulas, Calculating charts, various functions and advanced mathematical tools, the Girl of the Black Stone felt that he might be calculating how to hollow out a planet to make a maze.

The last one was also a war blacksmith, Honsou and his champion, a cannon fodder sent by the secret rival of her beloved warmaster - she curled her lips and glanced at the ordinary thoughts of these two people, the head of the war blacksmith. There were meatballs of various strange colors all around, about eighteen of them? Or twenty? The blue and green light is like an ocean surrounding them, and the white-gold sunlight penetrates the sea and shines on them. What a strange war blacksmith; this champion of his, the Word Bearer? It was even more boring. His mind was empty. The daughter of shadows stared at it again because of this emptiness - it was really empty. She had never seen anyone's mind be so empty. This was a person. Champion of Khorne, she really wished that Urkanthos's head, which was always covered in blood and red light, could be as empty as this.

Father would certainly throw them into one of the most difficult enemy areas until they were completely exhausted, unless they planned to rebel on the spot - which would then be used by the Warmaster to demand explanations, compensation and even compensation from the Red Corsairs. Start a war that benefits you. How clever! Her master, her warmaster, her father.

Mokas knew that she should lower her strange eyes on such occasions and maintain respect for her master, but after seeing so many scumbags or violent and stupid minds, she couldn't help but raise her eyelids. He looked at Abaddon on the throne with his purple naked eyes and black stone eyeballs.

She was pleased that Abaddon's mind was open to her in a way, and considered it a tacit connivance.

And this was the most beautiful thought she had ever seen. No one could compare to it. Thoughts were like planets surrounding Abaddon's head, so beautiful and so timeless.

Except for the one thing that ruined this celestial tranquility and beauty: the Chosen Mark of Chaos on his forehead.

It had been set down and ignited by the Dark Gods themselves, and it looked like a replica of the galactic discord, like the fire that ignited the beautiful stars that surrounded his mind.

Morcas wept at what Abaddon had endured.