40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 608 125. Dark Expedition (Forty-six, Red Angel, 5k)

Calistarius felt nothing.

In the blink of an eye, the cave and Iskandar Khayon disappeared completely. A powerful psychic force and something terrifying that he could not describe came to him together. The former intended to lead him somewhere, and the latter did the same.

So, how to choose?
Calistarius was not an idiot, but even if he was, he knew which one to choose. He moved his consciousness, connected with the psychic energy, and was thrown into the warp again.
He knew that he was experiencing a teleportation, in a supernatural and surreal way. He had never experienced anything like this before. Long-distance teleportation had always been a taboo technology, and no one dared to try it. Moreover, he had not been warned that doing so would bring extreme pain.

At this moment, Calistarius sincerely wishes that his physical body in the material world has a small ritual ring and the help of his fellow Librarians.
But he had none of those things, only himself, and a statue of the Emperor still held in his hand.

Does this represent anything?
Calistarius held it tightly.

It was not until this time that he discovered a suspicious point in the matter: he went to the subspace as a conscious body, that is, in the state of soul. If so, why could this simple statue, which was not a part of his soul, nor a ritual instrument, and had no spiritual power, follow him so firmly?

——His thoughts ended here.

A crack quietly emerged from the chaotic and unconscious world and swallowed him.

In an instant, the sky and the earth were bright, there was no more darkness, only blood red, and every sight was filled with scenes of blasphemy and depravity.

The dark clouds floating in the bloody sky were like pupils, silently staring at the appearance of Calistarius. The ground was completely submerged in a sea of ​​blood, and the few huge mountains were also made of piles of corpses, with a pungent stench that filled the air.

Calistarius looked at this place in horror, and wanted to go back and ask that devilish Iskandar Khayon: Is this where you think Sanguinius is now? You crazy bastard.
However, a few seconds later, Calistarius discovered that Khayon seemed to be right - in the floating state unique to the conscious body, he really saw a familiar figure in the boundless sea of ​​blood.

Calistarius immediately used his psychic power to end his floating and quickly rushed to the man. However, the closer he got, the more frightened he felt.

His golden hair was dyed red, his armor was completely broken, his body was covered with wounds, and around his neck was a bloody whip that looked evil and unclean. If it weren't for the sharp sword that belonged only to angels still held in his right hand, Calistarius would never have approached this being.

The young think tank walked forward carefully for a few meters and floated in front of the man, wanting to confirm it, but he almost screamed when he saw the man's face.

This is his father, no doubt about it, just, just.
"But Sanguinius has never fallen so low." A voice said coldly.

Calistarius cautiously made a gesture to prepare for psychic lightning, and his spirit's keen perception allowed him to quickly locate the person who was speaking.

Before time had passed, he had reached the top of the man's head at an extraordinary speed, with lightning in one hand ready to go, and the statue of the Emperor in the other hand began to glow faintly.
Calistarius did not notice this, but stared at him vigilantly, ready to attack at any time. At the same time, he discovered that this was also a psyker's consciousness, and it was obviously an Astartes.

However, compared to the images of most think tanks, his figure was extremely hideous and terrifying—large patches of dark red gathered on both sides of his back like folded wings, and continued to spread under his feet like a cloak, outlining a dark and ominous huge whole.

Two points of scarlet light shone behind his shoulders, like a lit torch. He wore a mask that looked like a skinned human face, with red and white muscles that looked extremely conspicuous. A pair of seemingly calm eyes stared at Calistarius in their eye sockets.

"Who are you?" the Blood Angel shouted.

The man did not answer, but stretched out his right hand with his index and middle fingers slightly bent.

Suddenly, a golden lightning flashed across the sky and struck the man's hand without warning, forming a Sky Eagle emblem. He held it and showed it to Calistarius, then finally spoke, his voice hoarse and dark, as if he was holding a blade.

"You don't need to know who I am. It doesn't make any sense. I am just like the Red Son Iskandar Khayon, whom you met not long ago. I am here to help you."

"He brought you to your father's place of punishment and corruption, and I will reveal to you where he came from in this beastly form."

Calistarius had to admit that he was irritated.

Although there was no trace of superiority in his tone, his straightforward attitude made the Blood Angels feel even more unacceptable. It was as if to him, Sanguinius had always been like this, so there was no need to be surprised or regretful.
"you--"

Before he finished speaking, the man frowned and looked at him seriously. The dark anger that flashed across his eyes made Calistarius stiffen all over.

"—Shut up!" he whispered to Calistarius. "Put away your ridiculous anger!"

"Look down at him. Do you think he knows you are his son? No, Calistarius. He is a beast seized by a rage that will kill every living thing he sees. Without exception."

The Blood Angel was silent for a few seconds, then he frowned and began to loudly refute: "Ridiculous! Then why didn't he kill me just now?!"

"Because you are dead," the man said.

Before Calistarius had time to think about what this sentence meant, the strange man raised his left hand and showed him a picture.

A blood-red curtain of light slowly unfolded, allowing Calistarius to clearly see himself surrounded by apothecaries and his battle-brothers standing guard around him. The four chapter masters were also present, arguing with each other on the battered deck of the Red Tear.

He couldn't hear their voices, but he could tell what they were saying by reading their lips.

His Chapter Master Dante said: Calistarius' sacrifice will be remembered by us, but now is not a good time to restart the psionic rituals. The Librarians must use their strength to close the warp rift on the ship.

Chapter Master Centor Jho of the Blood Knights says: I agree with you, Dante, and we must prepare for another war. I don't know who has seized the Ultramarines' ships and launched an attack on us, but they will pay for it.

Malakin Foros, the Chapter Master of the Lamenters, said: In short, be prepared to face war. But I still have a question, where did the Primarch go?
Gabriel Seth, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, roared in anger: In the name of Sanguinius, no matter who is on those ships, I will make them die without a burial place!
Calistarius looked away, his doubts growing—was he dead? Or was this just an illusion?
No, he could tell that this was definitely not an illusion. The special magic that used psychic energy to capture images from another world and project them could not be faked. But if his body was dead, how could his soul exist?
"Because of the statue in your hand." The man said calmly. "It saved your soul, even if it was only temporarily, but it was enough for us to complete everything."

"What are you talking about?" Calistarius asked, confused and angry.

This time, the man did not rebuke or otherwise react to his emotions, but simply floated towards Calistarius.

The young think tank wanted to dodge, but his consciousness did not listen to his control at all, and stayed where it was, as if that person was the master of his consciousness. Then, the man put his hand on Calistarius' shoulder.

"See what I see." He uttered a phrase, and his tone finally showed some fluctuation, full of sadness.

The next second, the world before Calistarius' eyes suddenly changed - he saw his brothers, the Blood Angels, and the brothers of the Successor Chapter.

They fought side by side, killing the surging demons. This should have been a perfectly normal scene, but Calistarius vaguely sensed something was wrong: their fighting methods were too bloody.

There was absolutely no order to this battle, no tactics or coordination, only continuous howling and horrific acts of wanton violence. But the real horror was yet to come.

When the last demon was slaughtered, the descendants of the angels turned their attention to each other and an imperial army that had just arrived at the battlefield.

They rushed madly at each other or mortals, then cut off limbs, beheaded, or simply tore people in half and pounced on them like wild animals to drink the blood.

"Emperor——!" Calistarius screamed.

And this is just the beginning, there are more scenes to follow, but the dead - or the sacrifices - have changed from brothers and soldiers to unarmed innocent mortals, to one poor civilian after another who are suffering from a catastrophe.

They did nothing wrong and just sat at home, but disaster struck from the sky, one hive after another, one world after another. Wherever the angel descendants went, no matter friend or foe, rivers of blood flowed.

"This is only the beginning," the man said in a low voice. "Your father has been caught by a flaw in his genes and the pure rage in his nature, and you will be affected as well."

"In the final analysis, the blood connection between the Primarch and the Astartes still partly comes down to the warp. The genetic modification surgery distinguishes you from humans on the physical level, but his blood has also affected your soul."

"I don't believe it, I don't believe it." Calistarius muttered to himself, turning a deaf ear to his words. "Thirst for blood."

The man calmly uttered a noun, which awakened the little remaining sanity of Calistarius.

"This is a curse that every descendant of an angel must bear. As I just said, this is a defect deep in your genes. It was passed down to you by your father."

"His descendants must drink blood all year round. Even so, the blood thirst will occasionally flare up in battle. It is not just a desire for blood, but also a love of violence. It will make you temporarily crazy, and you like to see the blood of the enemy quietly blooming from the corpse."

"That was before he gave in to his desires, however."

He pointed at the lone figure walking aimlessly in the river of blood.

"When he gave in to his desire, things changed. For what he drank was not pure blood, but the blood of a demon. You may have heard of its name - Kabanha, the mortal enemy of angels."

"Not long ago, it fought Sanguinius here, and in the end, it won the final victory at the cost of its death. It corrupted the spirit of Sanguinius and the souls of his descendants."

"This gate of desire opened by the devil's blood swallowed up all of your souls at that moment. There is no way out. Even if Sanguinius is killed here on the spot, the result will not change."

"From now on, the descendants of angels will often fall into blood thirst, until they can't extricate themselves, until the last one becomes its slave."

"The honor you have earned will be erased by your terrible deeds. Your efforts to resist the thirst for blood will be ruined by your father's momentary indulgence. But this is not the end. As I said, it is not just one curse that has captured his soul."

"Besides the thirst for blood, there is also the rage that is his essence. Your father was a monster, Calistarius, and he tried very hard to hide it, and he literally became a hero in the body of a monster. Such a feat, but it does not change the fact that he is still a monster."

"Deep in his soul, there was a void. There was nothing in that void except rage, and that rage was pure and unadulterated. It only fueled his desire for violence and destruction, and nothing else."

"You will also be affected by this curse. If you are not captured by the bloodthirst, you will be led by this bloody rage into the abyss of humanity."

Calistarius raised his shaking left hand and clasped the statue of the Emperor to his chest.

"The Emperor will show His mercy." The young Librarian choked up and said, "The Emperor will show His mercy to us."

"No, He will not," the man countered calmly. "Now listen to me, Calistarius, there is still hope."

The young think tank's head snapped up.

"You conquered death, didn't you?" the man asked.

"I don't remember, I only know that I did it, in——"

"——Under the leadership of Konrad Curze, the Lord of Blades and keeper of the graves of innocent souls."

The man sighed softly, reached out and grabbed Calistarius' left hand, and gently pressed the Sky Eagle emblem in his hand into the statue of the Emperor.

A burst of golden light quietly bloomed.

"And now you must do it a second time, Calistarius. You must defeat death a second time. No matter how difficult it is, no matter how great the cost, you must do it. Your father and your brothers can only rely on you now."

In the golden light, his form began to dissipate, and the bloody world also crumpled into a ball, as if it was about to be destroyed. Calistarius looked at this scene in shock, and instinctively looked into the man's eyes. Then, he felt a sense of familiarity.

A question popped out of his mouth.

"Who are you--?!"

The man nodded, and his figure completely disappeared, leaving only one sentence: "He will answer all your questions, and he will tell you what price you will pay."

Who? Who else?
In the golden light, Calistarius closed his eyes involuntarily. When he regained his sight, a face he had never seen before appeared before him.

Dark, ordinary, plain, and simple. Like an old farmer who has spent most of his life working in the fields, or a craftsman who is used to weaving baskets under the scorching sun.

Calistarius lowered his head and found that the man was holding his hands. It felt rough, like sandpaper. He raised his head in confusion and looked into the man's eyes.
Then all doubts were dispelled.

+You will bear all the responsibilities, Calistarius. Your father cannot stay here, nor can he fall. He is the sword that represents the dawn, and he will cut through the endless darkness that shrouds this place for me, and let the light of hope return to the Five Hundred Worlds. +
+I understand that this is just another sacrifice. +
The world spun, and the form of the Blood Angel reappeared beside his insane father.

He looked at his Primarch with determination.

Sanguinius knew nothing of this.

Golden light flashes.
-
"we have to."

Dante suddenly stopped talking, as he smelled an unusual burning smell. It was not the damage caused by burning or electric current, but an unusual, burning odor that was unique to psychic energy.

At this moment, time slowed down. Among the many descendants of angels, only he turned his head and looked at Calistarius not far away.

But he didn't see the young think tank, he only saw a flickering golden light.

The passage of time returned to normal, Dante's two hearts began to beat at an extremely high rate, the pharmacists exclaimed in unison, and the fighting brothers stood still, surprised and confused by the sudden appearance of the giant.

Yes, with almost no signs, their father, their Primarch Sanguinius returned quietly, but his armor was broken, his body was covered with wounds, and the wings behind him were bloody.

However, Calistarius disappeared.

"Primarch!" Dante ran towards him.

Sanguinius looked up, his eyes so unfamiliar that Dante and the other three chapter masters behind him stopped in their tracks.

Others also caught the Primarch's outward emotion at the moment, but no one made any sound. Only the servitors were still working hard to repair the deck.
After a few seconds, Dante resumed his pace, walked towards Sanguinius, and bowed his head.

"you are back."

"Ah."

Sanguinius nodded, and other than that, he didn't say anything more, just gave a few simple orders, such as fetching spare armor, stopping the bleeding of Yuyi, and then reporting to him on the current situation.

Dante did all these things one by one, but he could not forget the look that the Primarch had just given him.
Father, what could have made you so regretful?
And what about Calistarius?

——It wasn't until seven days later that he got the answer. By then, he no longer needed the answer.

(End of this chapter)