40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 696 78. Resurrection (End)

How do these things end? Experience tells us that the end is chaos, death, and blood, nothing else.

You can't find anything else. This is the only shit this fucking world can give you. Not even a good penny. It's so stingy that it makes you hate it.
Khalil frowned and threw these darkness out of his mind. He didn't know where they came from, he just felt annoyed and a little bit of agreement.

The hunter was unaware of this and was leading the way. His steps were steady and precise, just like a program that had been set up to run according to certain rules. This aspect would not be involved in any regiment's training, but it seemed reasonable for him to do so.

They were walking in a long and deep corridor, with sensor lights placed between the bricks and stones to serve as light sources. The light flickered, and from deep in the wall came the roar of machines and the collision of metal. The dull sound became louder and louder, as if someone was trying to tear the world apart.

They walked to a stone gate. The gate was tall, about ten meters high, but there were no reliefs or decorations on it. It was severely weathered. A dent the size of an Astartes' fist was on the wall to the right of the gate, forcefully announcing its presence to everyone.

The hunter walked forward, put his hand in it, and gently applied force. The metal pressed against the stone, making a sour creaking sound. His hand was slightly larger than the depression, but it seemed that it could still trigger some kind of mechanism.

There was only a buzzing sound, and a faint blue light shone through the gap between the wall and the stone door. Then, the door slowly slid open, and the rotten air from the inside of an ancient tomb rushed in with dust. Like a bullet fired from a gun, it hit the two people accurately, making them look dusty in an instant.

"Where the hell is this?" Khalil asked as he wiped the dust off his face.

After he had done this, he realized belatedly that he should have coughed. But now it was too late, and doing it again would have seemed a bit clumsy.
"Fortress No. 5." The hunter stepped into the door and replied. "No one has ever set foot here since the day it was built. You and I are the only two visitors, instructor."

"Then where does your authority come from?"

"It actually belonged to Talos Valkolan. After his death, it was passed down from generation to generation along with his eyes."

Khalil nodded wordlessly.

The faint blue light behind the door was changing, and soon it turned into a soft white light under the operation of the machinery, completely illuminating the room. Judging from the scale and decoration, this should be a command hall. In the center, there was a sunken design, and a throne covered by black cloth was waiting to be unveiled.

To its right was a row of sophisticated and massive arrays of thinkers, which had been activated as the stone door opened. A tsunami-like stream of data flashed wildly through the overview screen directly above them.

Khalil took a few steps closer and observed carefully. Although it was a little difficult, he still figured out something with his outdated knowledge from the 30th millennium.
"Is this a military fortress?" he asked at last in surprise.

The hunter shook his head to show that he knew nothing, and patted his shoulder armor. It seemed that he cared more about whether the emblem of the chapter was stained than the dust on his face.

Khalil withdrew his attention, stood there and watched silently for several minutes, and finally reluctantly came to the conclusion that this was a military fortress, and a fortress with self-production capabilities.

Judging from the data flow, these Thinker arrays are connecting and self-checking with as many as hundreds of different weapon positions, casting lines, raw material production machines, etc.
He looked at it for a while again, but this time he didn't see anything more. He was even given a headache by the endless data, codes and mysterious abbreviations, so he had to turn to the left side of the throne.

Compared with the complex and huge array of thinkers, this place seems a little too empty, with only two black display cabinets standing alone, like tombstones, one larger and the other smaller.

Beyond them, there were five flags hanging from the ceiling. Five stone platforms, belonging to the Nightblades and their respective sub-groups, were quietly waiting under their respective flags.

Khalil narrowed his eyes and ignored the two mysterious display cabinets, instead striding towards the stone platform.

They seemed to be able to sense his arrival. Before he could get close enough, the sound of gears clicking could be heard from inside the stone platform, followed by a series of muffled sounds.

The surface of the stone platform was turned over, and blood-red liquid gushed out from it, but it quickly dried up with a hissing corrosion sound.
When it was all over, they disintegrated with a bang, so logical that it seemed a bit too much. Among the stones on the ground, five short blades, some rusted or damaged, lay quietly. Khalil bent down and picked them up one by one. They were extremely cold in his hands.

He pulled out a sword with the Night Blade mark on the end and squeezed it hard. Many images came to him one after another, mercilessly attacking his senses.
After a few seconds, his fingers, which were always as steady as steel, suddenly began to tremble. The knife reluctantly slipped out of his hand, and the rust rubbed against his fingers intimately.

The hunter anticipated this and stretched out his right hand to catch it.

"What did you see, instructor?" he asked in a knowing tone.

Khalil looked at him, took a deep breath, and then calmed down, but still did not answer. Instead, he looked down at the other four blades in his arms, and for the first time, a hint of bitterness appeared on his pale face.

"How much preparation have you made?"

Faced with this question, the hunter thought about it carefully before giving an answer.

"Collecting the fragments is one part, and passing on the sacrifices of ten thousand years through a ritual and sealing them in these five blades is another part. In order to deal with the possible loss of humanity after your return, we did make a lot of preparations. Generally speaking, it's not much, but it's not too little either."

Khalil held out his hand.

"Instructor?"

"Please hand me the knives, please." Khalil glared at him. "I want to keep them with me."

The hunter couldn't help but twitch his lips, then he wisely remained silent and handed over the rusty blade.

Khalil took it and put them one by one into the simple belt built into the judge's coat. This useful design had been vacant at first, until now it was really put to use.
After doing this, he pointed to the two display cabinets and asked, "Where are they? What are they filled with?"

The hunter shook his head again. "I can't possibly know everything, instructor. I am only a second-rate prophet at best. I have not inherited the Primarch's talent in this area."

"You seem to have inherited his strengths in another aspect," said Khalil, emphasizing the word "strengths".

The hunter chose to avoid his compliments and even put on his helmet with his backhand. Seeing this, Khalil had no choice but to walk towards the display cabinet.

Fortunately, they, like the stone platform, have a special sensitivity. As he approached, the darkness covering the outer glass quickly faded, revealing the true appearance of the two display cabinets, one large and one small.

The larger one held a suit of armor, with two colors throughout, black and white entangled and mixed together, presenting a dense surface like blood vessels. The smaller one displayed several weapons, short knives, single knives, power swords, two-handed giant swords, and a black pistol that Khalil could not tell the specific model.

They all fit his current body size.

He looked back at the hunter in confusion.

"I really don't know what they are, instructor," the hunter, who had already put on his helmet, replied in a muffled voice. The breathing grid changed his voice, but if he didn't want to, this would not have happened.

Khalil sighed and tapped the display case with his right index finger unconsciously. "I can tell that the armor is a specially modified power armor, but where did these weapons come from?"

"Perhaps Lord Dorn prepared it for you."

"You really think so? You might as well say that he designed this hall."

"No." The hunter shook his head. "It was Lord Perturabo who designed this place - I mean, he designed and laid out the entire fortress himself. After confirming that it could handle this responsibility, he officially revealed its existence to us."

Khalil pondered in amazement. After a few seconds, he reached under the small display cabinet and pressed the button to open it. With a slight sound, the glass and metal frame sank down together, like a drop of clay in the sea, disappearing into the dark cabinet and never to be seen again.

He reached for the black pistol and soon saw the personal seal of the Lord of the Fourth Legion at the bottom of the grip. Coincidentally, the same was true for the other four weapons.

The man in the Inquisitor's uniform couldn't help but chuckle. He was holding a sword, a gun, and a bulge on his waist.

"Is it necessary, instructor?" the hunter asked lightly.

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Khalil looked at him, reached out and took the scabbard of the power sword from the cabinet, hung it around his waist, and then sheathed the sword. As for the gun, he put it back.

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The hunter seemed to want to comment on this, but he held back the words. It was unclear whether it was because of the sudden beep from the Thinker array behind them, or because of Khalil's seemingly casual glance.

They hurried back to the front of the formation, and the hunters quickly got into shape.

With the relevant knowledge reserves of the fortieth millennium, he surpassed the useless and old mind of the other person present. With the authority of the first generation soul hunter, he took over one of the Thinkers and began to classify and summarize various types of data in manual mode.

Soon, a series of messages were projected onto the overview screen.

[Highest level information, source: Fortress 004, Steel]

[Malcador said you are back, Caril Rohals. I hope you are satisfied with your 'grave'. I designed it myself. According to the original plan, you should be resurrected here, but the current situation may be better.]

[I won't explain the details, you can check it yourself. The command seat can unlock the transmission permission. I have made a plan in advance. You can use it to transmit to the reserved transmission beacon of each planet in the solar system. ]

[By the way, there is a gift from Vulcan and I next to the throne. It can be considered a gift. If you don't like it, just throw it away. It doesn't matter. Before midnight, there will be wine in my private living room. You can choose any type.]

【Rogal Dorn will also be there.】

[Highest level information, source: Fortress No. 007, city wall]

[When they told me that the miracle we had been waiting for had really happened, I still didn't quite believe it. Based on rational thinking, I think the probability of you coming back safe and sound is less than one percent.]

[Many centuries ago, I raised my objection at the meeting on this matter. Even if you can come back, there is no guarantee that you will be the same as before. Even worse, the person they brought back after all the hardships is not actually you. ]

[Iago Sevitarion held a grudge against me for at least a thousand years, until I woke up Sigismund and the matter came to an end. He could never keep calm when it came to you and Conrad. But I think I shouldn't blame him too much.]

[By the way, I am available until midnight tonight. If you are willing, please come to Perturabo's private reception room. I have many things to tell you. They may be of some help to your physical condition.]

[Highest level information, source: -——]

[Finish the tasks on your hands as soon as possible. You are a member of the Tribunal, and I still have many tasks that need you to handle.]

[Also, don't worry about Lion El'Jonson. Like you, he has been reborn. Come to see me at the fortress of the Inquisition in five days. He will be there too. This trial, which has been delayed for ten thousand years, must finally come to an end.]

[By the way, help me drink more kumis, I lost my sense of taste a long time ago.]

[Highest level information, source: Fortress No. 002, Guards]

【Welcome back, Caryl Rohals. The Ten Thousand is ready to accept your command.】

[I know you like to act alone, but this is the order of the Lord. For at least the next ten centuries, every mission you perform must be accompanied by a guard. No discussion.]

[I don't have anyone to recommend at the moment, so I suggest you take some time to come to the fortress. But I know you probably don't have the time, so I recommend myself.]

[Note: The Spear of the Sun God will be very helpful to your current situation, and I am its only user. ]

Khalil smiled, a smile that was natural and pure, overflowing with pure happiness - for anyone, it was a precious treasure. But the hunter knew that for him, it was actually far more than a treasure.

"Well, instructor?" Once again, he asked knowingly.

"Want to come to the party with me?" Khalil asked.

"No. I still have to wait here for my brothers who will arrive in the solar system with the joint fleet. Due to the last-minute notice from the Sigillite, I took some not-so-good methods to arrive at Terra ahead of time. I have to do some work temporarily to report to Lord Sevatar, so that he won't put a knife across my neck again."

"Why didn't I notice you were so talkative before, Hunter?"

The hunter shrugged calmly, walked to the side of the throne, reached out and pulled off the black cloth.

"Please," he said to Khalil.

(End of this chapter)