Warhammer: Start with a dog

Chapter 558 When you didn’t notice Schrödinger’s cat…

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"Forgetting is sometimes an excellent way to preserve."

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He is watching with his sleepless eyes of keen vigilance.

Once upon a time, he and his companions carried out traditional hunting on the ancient human home planet.

He was both the hunted and the hunter.

Encountering danger, encountering powerful enemies, changing into various forms, or using any handy items as weapons are just part of the most basic courses he has received in terms of training and tempering.

Therefore, when everyone's attention is taken away by more important things and more dazzling figures in the scene.

He was also shocked by who he saw. His time-tested mind had just woken up from a command to force the battle for more than a second. He judged the outcome on the field and then realized the chaotic scene. an opportunity implicit in it.

He should seize this opportunity to find out what is going on here, where is this place, what are those... mutants that are neither pure nor normal, full of madness and danger, and finally, the last time he remembers himself Wherever he went, what happened to himself - why was he here?

So, just before everyone remembered his existence and started to focus on him, he made a prompt decision and took off the incorrect color he was wearing (when did he change back to this color? He had no idea about it) memory), hastily hiding it along with the weapons he also held but did not like the most (unfortunately, they should still be useful, but with the destruction of Cadia they cannot be retrieved).

Then, he quickly and quietly disguised himself with the power armor and remaining biological tissue of the fallen, and saved some of them for emergencies.

Then everything went as he imagined: when the order for the evacuation was finally given to everyone within earshot, there was almost no organized retreat plan on the ground.

Even though the Dark Angels or Imperial Knights have their own retreat sequence, this is not the case in most other places.

The Imperial Fists and ancient gunships bearing the emblem of the Silver Skull Chapter, which had some strange feeling that he could not describe, landed in an unusual number and frequency on the cracked surface of the planet that was about to be destroyed due to the resonance of impact and supernatural forces. At the same time, Firing their flares, they would allow refugees aboard who would never come into contact with an Adeptus Astartes craft as long as anyone who could catch the flight came close and did not trigger some kind of alarm mechanism.

As long as the fleeing people fill up a gunboat, the gunboat will take off immediately, without waiting for aviation command or arranging the route. People will leave as soon as they arrive.

The distance between the retreating route and the vehicles was horribly dense, but each vehicle, especially those of the Silver Skull, miraculously maintained collision-free and ultra-high-density flight throughout the entire process, as if they were not some heavy and huge vehicles that could Loaded with a squadron of Astartes or several Dreadnoughts, a deadly flying arsenal, they are nothing more than light, industrious, buzzing bees.

They desperately travel between deep space and the ground, but instead of transporting nectar, they transport people fleeing the world they are destroying.

It really fits the chaotic and crazy scene when the world is destroyed.

But this will be beneficial to his next plan of blending into them.

People abandoned most of their belongings when fleeing, and some things that would never happen on a daily basis also happened.

He even saw soldiers randomly discarding the shells in the ammunition boxes and filling the boxes with Cadian soil.

He heard them say, "Yes, sir, I hope that when I die I can sprinkle a handful of soil from my hometown on my grave."

Obviously, this place is full of wounded and dying people. Thick blood stains, thick and random bandages can be seen everywhere.

Therefore, he used blood and bandages to cover up the wounds on his face and passed the siren safely without arousing any suspicion.

The only thing that slightly worries him is that he doesn't know which ship he will be assigned to escape from here in the end. If it is a ship that is too small and there are too many people on it, it will not be easy to hide for a long time. By myself.

For him, the best destination is the Phalanx. On that semi-abandoned but still majestic fortress, he is very confident that he can hide for a month, or even three months, and the Phalanx will finally be berthed. A port is a place of total certainty.

So he pretended to have a head and neck injury that prevented him from speaking much or communicating, and limped aboard a gunship painted in the colors of the Imperial Fists.

To his surprise, they were eventually sent to the Enterprise, which was said to be from the Rogue Trader Dynasty, because it was said that the area that the Phalanx had opened could not accommodate such a large number of refugees.

——If Mountain Formation Fortress can't do it, then can just a Rogue Trader ship do it?

It's crazy.

He repeated in his mind and sneered at the minds of decision-makers who were always prone to making decisions at the drop of a hat.

He initially thought that this might mean that a newly jumped Dynasty cargo fleet was following behind, which was barely reasonable, but he found that there was only one ship in the void here waiting for them to land, the Enterprise.

Oh, is this damned merchant going to squeeze them into the space on the lower deck like sardines or an old slave ship? Perhaps he should have thought of a way to get out when he landed...

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So at this moment, he was forgotten and lurking alone somewhere on the Enterprise.

He thought about what he had seen: the battle in the underground caves of Cadia... He needed to find another chance to verify everyone's identity. If the identity of the Primarch was true, then he just happened to witness the rise of a hypocrite who was more harmful to the Empire. Maybe this was also a coincidence that he appeared here and witnessed it.

The Enterprise might be part of a major conspiracy, a base to subvert the Empire.

But the Mountain Phalanx seemed to be fighting in conjunction with the Enterprise, and he mourned for a second the idea that the Imperial Fists might have fallen.

Then, if the Terran Guards were not so reliable, he could only contact more reliable candidates and trust his own brothers. He could collect more intelligence here before finding a way to leave here and contact them.

So he immediately changed his appearance and identity, hid near the door of the hangar, and prepared to see if there would be a new opportunity to get some vehicles soon.

But he hid in the dark and observed the evacuation and destruction of the fleet left behind by the Black Legion (he heard that the Vengeful Spirit had already left with the injured Abaddon before that, which was also the reason why the Black Legion fleet became unwilling to fight), and was surprised by the Enterprise's powerful and all-round firepower system, which ruthlessly and destructively counterattacked any Chaos ship that dared to take advantage of the ship to receive refugees, and the shield position that remained strong under the opponent's long-range main gun bombardment, and the communication dispatch system that was completely unaffected by the various chaotic radiation, waves and subspace energy here.

While the ship was carrying out a saturation counterattack, there was not even any accumulation of refugees at the diversion point of the hangar below. As soon as everyone landed, they were led away by the guides who had been waiting there for a long time, as if the servitors and Astartes here knew how to guide and distribute them as a matter of course.

Then came the last three Terra hours of Cadia, until they began to see the crust of Cadia cracking, and the ghosts awakened in the mass graves of people who had died here for thousands of years howling and falling into the molten mantle and the core, he began to feel that he should stay here.

Because in these three hours, he was shocked to find that this battleship, which theoretically could only accommodate a hundred thousand people at most according to any knowledge he knew about imperial ships or the most extreme colony ships, and was suspected to exceed the specifications of the flagship of the Ronin Merchants and reached the scale of the Primarch, had quietly received at least four million people - and what was even more horrifying was that, seeing the final death of the planet approaching, the Imperial fleet also evacuated here, and even the Mountain Phalanx began to fly away, leaving only this ship alone, and then, facing the first and second continents of Cadia, opened its huge seabed valve.

A beam of light.

The light fell from the sky.

Shining on the people who were ready to calmly accept the fate that their planet and their trenches were their own graves.

While the observer's brain was buzzing and being rubbed and beaten back and forth between the laws of physics and the common sense of the real universe, the beam of light had already sucked up all the survivors like a giant whale sucking water, and then it left, catching up with the other ships that had left, leaving behind only a broken Cadia Gate that could no longer withstand the surging scarlet waves.

Is this reasonable?

Is this... has he been away from this galaxy for too long under the influence of the unknown?

Is this an ancient engineering miracle that was discovered on Terra or Mars or somewhere else when he didn't know about it? He had heard of similar things, but it would always require repairs, research, and years of purity verification and appeasement of the machine spirit before it could be put into use. He didn't remember hearing any relevant intelligence before he left the position he was guarding for the last time.

So, where was this giant starship that he had never heard of found? Or where was it secretly built? Who allowed the investment of these resources? How did this huge amount of resource consumption hide from all relevant departments and vigilant managers? He had no idea. Could it be that the Mars and Jupiter docks were still hiding something from them?

In view of this, he believed that this ship, which was supposed to carry the glory of the human empire, could not be ruled out as having become an evil nest full of heretics and spies, hiding the possibility of a threat to the Emperor and the entire galaxy.

Not only should the lurking continue here, but it also requires further observation and planning.

The determination was made.

The next step was execution.

The lurker's steps seemed ordinary, but they did not cause any sound in the dark corridor. He precisely controlled his bones and muscles, and his movements were as silent as a shadow in the night.

Each of his steps was carefully calculated to avoid sensors or guards that might expose his position. His heart was filled with loyalty to the Emperor and firmness in his mission. This belief was as strong as the armor he once wore, supporting him to cross this space shrouded in darkness.

An unsettling silence permeated the interior of the Enterprise. For a behemoth that had swallowed at least tens of millions of people, the upper deck was eerily silent. Only the occasional sound of machinery running in the distance would break the silence.

The Lurker knew that under this silence, there were often countless dangers hidden.

According to what he had seen so far, there were not only heretics, mutants, and primarchs who seemed to have mutated and whose loyalty and purity were in jeopardy, but perhaps there were more threats waiting in these shadows, ready to pounce on any careless intruder.

But the Lurker was not afraid. There was an unyielding light in his eyes. They were the agents of the master's will, and no corruption could shake his soul and determination.

As he gradually approached the possible target area, the air seemed to become more solemn. With every step forward, the Lurker could feel the inexplicable gaze from the depths of darkness becoming stronger and stronger, but he tried several methods and failed to lead out the sender of the sight, nor did he find any observation lens, scanning array or similar things.

His intuition told him that if he stayed where he was, it might be more dangerous, so he decided to keep moving himself.

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The figure of the lurker almost merged with the shadows in the ventilation duct above the corridor. His movements were silent, as swift and light as a Guangdong cicada. He carefully approached the hall where he heard the special movement of human voices and power armor from afar. The hatch of the hall was unguarded and opened like a tempting trap. Bright light shone from inside and merged with the lights in the corridor.

Now he was so close to the top of the door that he could vaguely hear the low conversations and the slight collision of power armor from inside.

The owners of these voices were wearing power armor of various colors and scattered throughout the hall. They formed different groups, showing that they had not completely let down their vigilance. Their body language also revealed an unusual tension.

The hall was brightly lit. There was no throne on the high platform in the center. Instead, an Astartes was standing on it, and it seemed that he was asking questions with other people in the hall.

He was covered in steel and silver armor, with a shiny new skull mask emblem on his shoulder armor, and the Iron Court Guards guarded him.

When he began to speak, the name he announced made the eavesdropper's pupils shrink in surprise.

"I know you all have a lot of questions in your mind now, so I am here to answer some of the questions I can answer. First, the name."

He paused, "Maybe some of you know me, maybe none of you know me, but it doesn't matter. I am Barabas Dantioch, and I am glad to see you here."