40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 606 124. Interlude: The Adventures of Calistarius

Calistarius could clearly sense one thing: his senses were fading.

At this moment, he was like a person suffering from eye disease. Every morning, he would see a more blurry world, until one day he became completely blind or could no longer see anything clearly.

On some savage worlds, this disease is called and regarded with awe as a curse. This view fits Calistarius's situation very well - he is indeed cursed, a curse from the Warp.

This chaotic and disordered place revealed an abnormal desire for his soul. He could hardly see anything in front of him. Only darkness remained.

But he could vaguely feel the gazes of those things, and their slippery limbs, mouths full of desire, teeth, and eager to chew flesh.
This had never happened before. Perhaps it was because the ritual was incomplete and he had no help, so he had to go into the Warp alone? Or did it mean that the Warp didn't want him to find Sanguinius.
No matter which one it was, Calistarius knew it was not a good thing, but he did not choose to stop, but continued to call out. He called Sanguinius's name over and over again, and tried several different spells.

Oaths, reverse summoning circles, searching for people and objects, divination - Calistarius used all his life's knowledge to try to find Sanguinius in this place, but still found nothing.

He didn't know that the person he was looking for was not in the subspace.

But here he is.

He is lost and cannot return. At this moment, no one in the physical world who can help him can reach him, so this terrible loss may continue for a long time.

The Warp is a greedy place, and it has been since time immemorial. Its original purity and harmony are gone, replaced by the most horrible things in the minds and hearts of intelligent creatures, which occupy almost all space.

Getting lost here is never a good thing
But it's not all darkness here.

The subspace is a mirror, a reflection of the material world. There are no boundaries, no logic, and theoretically, anyone can do anything here.

And although Calistarius's constant calling did not lead to his desired finding of his father, it did bring about an unexpected look.

The owner of that gaze was a strange being, it looked as if it was wearing a long robe with the ends flying, but the texture was not light at all, but rather gave people a heavy feeling, and the color was pale, similar to the ashes after burning.
As soon as it appeared, it tore apart the surrounding darkness, and pure and powerful psychic energy flowed everywhere that Calistarius could see, making the place as bright as day.

It was so powerful that Calistarius immediately raised his 120,000-degree alert, but that consciousness established a mental link with him without his permission, and the whole process was extremely smooth.
+Nice to meet you, lost angel. +
The consciousness greeted him politely and kindly. This was the first sentence, but also the last sentence. After that, its psychic energy burst out instantly and enveloped Calistarius.

The young Librarian immediately recognized part of the principle of this magic with his knowledge. He recognized that it was a protective shield involving some kind of indestructible oath power, and there was a golden light shining inside.

Calistarius' heart trembled - how could he not recognize such power? Not long ago, they had transformed into thunder and burst out from his fingers, cleansing the demons.
He wanted to say something, but that consciousness did not give him more time. The rolling fog swept in and forcibly took him out of the subspace in an instant.

The intense tearing sensation almost made Calistarius scream. His body was calling out to his soul, asking him to go back, but his soul was drifting further and further away.
Feeling dizzy, Calistarius slowly opened his eyes and saw a jackal mask with a cold, hard metallic luster.
The mask was hideous and terrifying, every detail was lifelike, and the eyes carved from rubies were flashing with psychic light.

A hand slowly raised up and took off the mask.

"It's not easy to find you." The man behind the mask sighed. "Even if I have been enlightened, calm down, okay? Your problem is actually easy to solve."

The man came up to Calistarius and took his hand with both of his.

The young think tank suddenly felt a warmth, and that power soothed his anxiety and uneasiness, and also wiped out the pain caused by being too far away from his body, and even replenished some of his strength out of nothing.

However, this was not what shocked Calistarius the most - what really made him almost lose his voice was the warmth he felt from that person's hand.

It is not the temperature of strength, but body temperature, the temperature of the living.

He is now just a conscious being, a soul that has left the body, in other words, a wandering ghost. But according to Calistarius' knowledge and experience, it is absolutely impossible for a ghost to feel the 'warmth of the living', which is simply a paradox.

"It's not difficult." The man holding the mask seemed to have sensed his thoughts. He suddenly smiled and made a very confident gesture.

"If I can't even do this, how can the name of Iskandar Khayon deter the ghosts who try to enter our world?"

Calistarius' brows furrowed, his pupils dilated - if he still had any - and he finally cried out.

"Who?"

".Kayan, Iskandar Khayon. As a think tank, haven't you heard of my name?"

"Never heard of it." Calistarius replied quickly. "Why do I have to hear your name as a think tank?"

"Are you serious? Didn't you read The Jackal Book on your way to becoming a qualified think tank? No? Well, what about The Division of Psionics? Didn't you read that either? Ah-"

The man holding the mask sighed in annoyance and threw the jackal mask onto a long table behind him.

It was not until this time that Calistarius realized that the clothes he was wearing were actually very similar to his image in the warp, the only difference was that the robe was not pale and had normal texture.

"--You're not going to tell me that the Blood Angels think tank's internal collection doesn't even have the 'Detailed Study of the Duties of Psykers', which is updated every eighteen years?" the man who called himself Khayon asked.

"Yes, but what does this have to do with you?"

"Of course I do." Khayon said calmly, putting his hands behind his back. "I'm the editor-in-chief, young man."

Calistarius did not refute him for the time being, because the heavy book that was updated every eighteen years and that every psychic agency across the empire must receive did have an editor-in-chief.

Moreover, the editor's name has not changed since its release, and has always been 'The Wolf of Tizca'.
Calistarius looked at the jackal mask that had been thrown on the table.

"What?" Khayon asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you remember now?" "I don't believe you." Calistarius said. "Who are you?"

The giant smiled, took a step back, and bowed gracefully. The steps were courtly etiquette, but he made an eagle gesture with his hands in front of his chest, which seemed out of place. However, it seemed just right for him, without any sense of disobedience.

"I am Iskandar Khayon, a wizard who travels across the galaxy. Of course, given the curiosity of the think tanks, you will not be satisfied with these evasive words, so I decided to be frank."

Calistarius noticed that his expression suddenly became extremely serious.

"I am one of the last sons of Magnus the Red," said Iskandar Khayon coldly. "I was once a member of the Thousand Sons, and now I am the Grand Master of the Dead Eye Society. I arrived here sixty-five years ago at the command of the Emperor and my father, awaiting your presence today."

Calistarius took a deep, deep breath and pushed everything out of his mind, asking a very simple question instead.

"How?" he asked. "How are you going to prove—"

In front of him, Khayon reached out and took out a golden badge from his bosom. No other gold in the world has such a pure color, and its surface is carved into the shape of a sky eagle, lying quietly in Khayon's hand.

As soon as it appeared, Calistarius' eyes were deeply attracted. He could not understand why a badge had such a strong attraction to him until he accidentally looked into the eyes of the eagle.
A golden light flashed, and many images rushed into his mind. Calistarius' soul flickered instinctively. He saw a huge, pure golden armor, gorgeous and majestic.

Then, it is thrown into the fire, and a huge dark hand holding a forging hammer continuously beats various parts of the armor until it slowly deforms and is finally poured into many molds to form badges or sharp metals.

Calistarius breathed heavily instinctively, trying to regain his composure, completely forgetting that he was now a soul.

"I think this should be enough." Khayon said as he solemnly took back the badge.

He gestured again, signaling Calistarius to follow him, and immediately turned around and began to walk. Points of light gradually lit up in the darkness around him, not from psychic power, but from lighting devices pre-installed in it.

Calistarius wanted to walk, but his spirit rushed after Khayon and flew around in this rough cave. He couldn't help but feel a little annoyed - this was certainly not the first time his spirit had left his body, but it was the first time he had traveled so far.

The constraints of the body on the soul have been weakened to a point where they are no longer necessary. Therefore, controlling the soul body and making it move calmly as before has become something that requires time to learn.

But where does he have the time now?

However, Kayon didn't seem to care about his predicament at the moment, and comforted him: "Don't worry, it's not a big deal that your soul and body are separated."

"As long as your body is not destroyed, you can return to normal at any time. At most, you will just have to stay in bed for a while. Calm down and savor the freedom of your soul at this moment. This is a rare experience."

"What do you want to do?" asked Calistarius.

"Helping you." Ka Yang turned his head slightly, with a smile on his face.

"What else, young man? What do you think I'm going to do? I've spent sixty-five years on this little planet, separated from my brothers by the stars. All I've done is to help you today."

Without waiting for Calistarius to answer, he continued to speak. The sound of boots hitting the stone floor and the orderly sound of water dripping from deep in the cave seemed quiet, distant and mysterious.

"Of course, this is not the fateful moment that the prophets spoke of. Remember my next words, Calistarius, these are words of blood and tears."

"Any prophecy is essentially just a one-sided description of the future. Some people believe it and think that things will develop in that direction no matter what for the rest of their lives. They are stupid, but also sad, because the future can be completely changed."

"I am trying to change the future right now. I want to help you find your father, young Calistarius. This is difficult, but which great thing throughout history is not like this? It is precisely because of its difficulty that it has the meaning of being overcome and defeated."

As he kept talking, Calistarius calmed down a little bit, and finally he even felt like playing a little joke on him.

"Have you been alone for too long, that's why you're so talkative?"

Khayon stopped, looking a little surprised. He turned around, shook his head, and suddenly a blue light flashed in his hand.

"No," Calistarius heard him say. "I was just trying to distract you."

The next second, the ground shook, and an extremely complex magic circle lit up under Calistarius' feet.

"Goodbye, cousin," Iskander Khayon said solemnly. "Good luck to you."

The light went out, and Calistarius disappeared without a trace.

Khayon walked over silently, knelt on one knee, wiped out the magic circle, and then tapped the ground lightly. The stone suddenly cracked, revealing a huge axe. The handle was made of bones, and the blade was made of flesh and blood. It looked extremely ominous.

Khayon slowly exhaled, frowned, held the axe with both hands, slowly lifted it up, turned around slowly, and walked to the other end of the cave. A few minutes later, he handed the axe to a one-armed giant.

"Thank you," Khayon said respectfully. "Without it I'm afraid it would be difficult for us to reverse locate Sanguinius's current location."

"It's just a piece of cake." said the one-armed giant.

There seemed to be a smile on his trembling face.

(End of this chapter)