Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 261 Dream of Fear

Conrad Coates strode across the corridor, his long fingernails touching the seeping walls of the old house, scraping off a thin layer of fresh paint.

A slight scratching sound sounded at the fingertips. It was a dull low hiss, like some kind of irresistible rumbling wheel that was rolling quietly thousands of miles away from the wall. It lasted for many years, and its lingering sound lingered in the vast world. Then it happens to press on the small point where the nail touches the wall.

Fulgrim, Ferrus Manus, Rogal Dorn.

He thought as he read their names one by one.

Just as the wheel of history keeps moving forward, they returned under the fluttering eagle flag of the empire.

At this moment, at the other end of the corridor, tonight’s dishes were being carried plate by plate by the Nostramos to the high table. In the hall, bright lights shone on Ferrus' silver hands, Fulgrim's white hair, and Rogal Dorn's golden armor.

As for the dozens of Space Marines occupying a huge space, there were sporadic rain tonight, and the ceramite armor was not corroded by this trivial amount of acid - so they were sitting outside in the backyard, waiting to be loaded with food. trolley.

The Primarchs were waiting for Curze to arrive and introduce them to the food traditions of Nostramo, and then this simple dinner would begin.

To be honest, no matter which one he is: in reality or in fantasy; on this adamantine planet, the dietary structure that can be presented to the foreign original body as a feast is a bit too unfamiliar to him. .

Today, these vegetables and meats were things he had never had the opportunity to understand before.

What does he know? Beetroot? Rye bread? No, it's still a little too delicious for the bottom of Nostramo. So, nutritional cream? Energy bar? Rodents?

And corpse starch... No, at the mention of this term, he couldn't help but smile. In a sense, he liked the Imperial people's even-handed and spicy humor.

However, if the chronological order of the return to the empire is followed, if the other story still has the slightest bit of credibility...

So, who else is here at 843.M30? Who else, who might have had the possibility, came to visit his carefully decorated house?

Horus Luperkar? Trouble Magnus? Or Robert Guilliman - Curze snorted at the thought of him. It can’t be Leman Russ?

He walked through the corridor on this floor and walked towards the steps at the end of the floor. One level, two levels. The stairs descended under his feet, and then the next step was actively handed to his feet.

This repetition reminded Konrad Coates of a dream. Not a prophecy, not a hallucination, but a... real dream.

Oh, that unforgettable dream——

He walked along a gray abandoned passage, wearing his claws.

He fell into a dead end and turned around. Iron chains hung in the sky, burning candles covered both sides of the passage, and wax solidified on the ground, leaning against tombstones covered with moss and weeds.

The first tombstone is engraved with the words, "I want to set an example that will shock EMI." This is another one he said when he determined to burn Nostramo.

In the groove defined by the dark brick wall behind the tombstone, a gargoyle is using the halberd in its hand to cut off its own tail.

He walked past the tombstones without stopping.

The second tombstone is engraved with "His destiny lies beyond" and is set off by a pile of messy feathers, like an eternal echo. The solidified molten iron turned into blood and dripped under the tombstone.

Also behind the tombstone, there is a broken statue with missing wings, flesh and bones, which is unbearable to look at.

He walked past the tombstones without stopping.

There is not a word on the last tombstone, and there is no statue behind it. No, it was a painful seat. And the seat itself is the inscription.

He walked past the tombstones, his footsteps tapping on the masonry floor of the dreamland, and the floating dust was illuminated by the occasional light. He turned around again at the dead end, entered the fork in the road, and strode forward.

A stone sculpture of a warrior suddenly appeared and collapsed before his eyes. He could clearly see the face of the Space Marine. His hair formed a small peak on his forehead, and scars were clearly visible on the left half of his face. Then came the second one, and more, and more.

Tens of thousands of stone statues suddenly filled the entire tunnel, and the tunnel expanded into an auditorium. Each stone statue sat on a chair, with the Night Lord's bat-winged skull carved on its pauldrons, facing him with an unreadable expression.

And he stood in the center of the podium. An even bigger golden statue was right behind him, fifteen meters high and shining with golden light, but he didn't look at it.

He desperately wanted to escape from here, so he stepped off the podium and walked forward through the aisle in the middle of the seats on both sides. At the last moment he left the auditorium, lightning and thunderstorms rolled down, destroying all the stone statues.

He turned around suddenly, and behind the podium where he had been standing, the flesh-and-blood statue of the Emperor collapsed to the ground, and everything ended there.

——What a dream that has nothing, accomplishes nothing, and is nothing!

Konrad Coates took a deep breath to calm his violent heartbeat, smelled the unique moist smell of Nostramo that still remained in the room after many cleanings, shook his head, and wiped out the dream. Get rid of all the afterimages.

He won't go that far. Conrad Curze heard his teeth clashing and squeezing against each other.

He no longer had any reason to go that far. Neither will the world at large. Besides, he wouldn't give that damn fate even a tiny bit of attention.

Yes, Commorragh changed him, and Perturabo got him back. And the turning point of it all...again, the turning point!

So, where does he start?

Participate in expeditions. certainly.

However, what was really urgent was that he had to walk into the brightly lit hall that was already in front of him, and then...

Stop acting like a stoked thespian and be nice to your brothers.

-

"What Rogal Dorn means is that your smile is full of sincere feelings and a brave attempt to accept the empire. This is the most rare and valuable. Therefore, giving you equal respect and response is far more valuable than It’s more important to continue to indulge in the diet.”

Curze stared intently at the golden skull held by Rogal Dorn in his left hand, glaring into its eyes with annoyance as its upper and lower jaws opened and closed.

Like a clockwork machine with erratic movements, he slowly turned his head and looked directly at Roger Dorn's face, which seemed to have the word calm written on his forehead.

"So, you specifically dropped the knife and fork and asked me not to force my smile?"

"Don't worry about Rogal Dorn, Konrad." Fulgrim held the side of his face with one hand, his long hair flowing down his purple and gold arm armor, highlighting a smiling face, "Even if Pettu Rab gave him a golden speaking skull, and his own words and face were enough to destroy all friendly efforts."

"I understand deeply." Ferus said.

Curze put his fork down, frustration settling in him. When he was faking it, which he now admits he was faking before, everything went well.

Now, he just wants to be as sincere as possible without putting on a show or pretense, and then everything in the world will immediately go against him! "I... really look forward to the day when I see my legion." Konrad Coze kept the changes in his expression to a minimum. If it were not for speaking, he would not even want to move the muscles of his mouth. "Seeing you also makes me... feel mixed."

Fulgrim asked: "Is there any positive joy in this complicated mood?"

Be nice to your brothers. make change.

"I'm not going to deny it," Coates said.

"That's enough," Fulgrim breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm really afraid that you hate us."

"I can't. What about you?"

Phoenix laughed, "You are a clean Primarch, and that's enough to be cherished, Conrad."

"If I don't care about cleanliness... no, forget it." Kurtz decided to skip the topic. He didn't understand why there was a discussion about one's ability to cleanse, as if it really determined the quality of a primarch or something else. "I'm grateful for that."

"Also, now..." Fulgrim paused, "I feel much better about you here. This must be the reason why you have made these 'various' preparations in advance."

"How do you like it?"

"Well, this is a question that is not easy to answer...at least it is hard for me to think of a more effective way to introduce a home planet to new friends."

"Where are the systematic data reports?" Ferus asked.

Fulgrim glanced at Ferrus. "Don't act like Perturabo or Robert Guilliman, Ferrus."

"Is there any?" Ferus thought for a while, "Okay."

"Pause for a moment, you two...and Rogal Dorn." Curze said, licking his dry lips, missing his Commorragh bloodwine. He wouldn't drink wine mixed with his own blood in front of these new blood relatives - even if he had already shown part of his Eldar leather wardrobe.

"Huh?" Fulgrim replied.

"You see, I now know that you are Fulgrim, the Primarch of the Legion of the Emperor's Children," he looked at the next person, "You are Ferrus Manus, the Primarch of the Iron Hands, and you , Rogal Dorn of the Imperial Fists. I think you shouldn’t be the only Primarchs owned by the Empire, right? For example, as you mentioned twice, Perturabo?”

"Perhaps no one except our father knows how many there are of us," Fulgrim said, stretching out his fingers, which he had taken off for dinner, and began to curl them one by one.

"Horus Luperkar, who was the Primarch of the Luna Wolves - you hear anyone who wants to know, stop me; Duncan Aho, and his Resurrection, to whom I Unfamiliar; myself; Perturabo, Iron Warrior; Leman Russ, Space Wolf; Rogal Dorn, here; Ferrus Manus, here; Angron, The World Eaters; Robert Guilliman, the Ultramarines; Magnus, and his Thousand Dust Sun; Lorgar Aurelion, and his Word Bearers; Vulkan, the Salamander... Ben Volcan Vulgan also wanted to come here, but he and Ferus have other military affairs. Now that Ferus is here, Vulgan has gone to the battlefield."

Curze noted down the new name of Magnus's Legion, wondering what was going on behind it.

Fulgrim observed Curze's expression carefully, and he was satisfied with the light shining in Curze's eyes. A person who pursues something and is willing to chase the way to improvement is always better than someone who is unpredictable and doesn't want to move forward.

"You mentioned Perturabo, I think here, the most convincing person about him is Rogal Dorn." Fulgrim looked across the table and winked at Dorn. , "About twenty or thirty years ago, I heard that Perturabo had accomplished an incredible task."

"Which one?" Donne asked.

"Oh," Fulgrim sighed, "Then let me tell you, there is a person here who seems to be ignoring objective evaluation standards because of the existence of personal relationships."

"No..." Dawn tried to argue.

Curze pretended that Dorne was silent: "Fulgrim, please."

"Well, I heard that Magnus, Dorn, Angron, and Robert Guilliman were all brought back to Terra by Perturabo on a voyage. This is incredible." Fogg. Ream said, spreading his hands over his plate of sea creatures.

"No, Mag..."

"This is surprising enough," Curze said, placing a suspicious question mark over the heads of these Primarchs, especially Magnus and Angron.

According to his understanding of the machine Perturabo, these two blood relatives may have suffered considerable changes in personality - Magnus even created an unheard of Legion name.

"What about the rest? Did the Emperor find them?"

Fulgrim put away his fingers and turned to pick up a strip of meat with the tip of his dining knife. "For a few moments, I really felt that you knew more about the Empire than expected. Lorgar Aurelion is an exception. After he was found by Horus Luperkar in the Segmentum Pacifica almost ten years ago - I began to hope that it was time for Akulduna to learn more about sewing and cooking from you and your minions, Konrad."

His last words struck a strange point of laughter in Konrad Coze. Coze turned away and laughed endlessly behind Dorn’s back: “You don’t want your genetic heir to learn how to make blood from me. Liquor, my brother.”

"I haven't tried brewing with anyone yet," Fulgrim said suddenly, his joy evident in his words. "My brother," he added immediately.

"Yeah." Kurtz answered in a low voice. This is a bit awkward. But not bad. Perturabo had called him brother a hundred times, right?

"It would be great if Vulkan could come here." Fulgrim said enthusiastically, "He is easy to deal with. Although he advised me to decorate my armor less, he is also a good jewelry maker... Oh, unfortunately I can't guarantee it. Everyone accepts your street decorations,” he said politely.

Curze was unconvinced that Vulkan was easy to deal with. It can only be said that objectively speaking, Fulgrim is right.

"He's on an expedition?" he asked.

"Ibsen, number 154-4. A desolate planet guarded by the Eldar." Ferrus Manus spoke. "The soil there also contains a large amount of rare minerals, which are of great value. According to Vulcan, the Eldar are still stubbornly resisting. If necessary, I will go to help."

Curze showed no signs of reaction when Ferus mentioned "Eldar".

"If I could," he said, "I'd look forward to witnessing a real Legion battle."

"If you go, take our new brother with you," Fulgrim said, his spirits still undiminished. In fact, he felt that it might be better for Vulkan to meet Konrad Curze for the first time not on this planet covered with human skin. "At least...I think it's okay."

"You have nothing to do." Ferus crossed his arms on his chest, looked at Coze as a warrior again, and nodded in agreement.

(End of this chapter)