Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 129: Breaking the Cup

In orbit thousands of kilometers above the Earth's surface, the deathly chill of the dark void surrounds Lysander.

This white-haired man completely overturned his previous impression of the Primarch and his father, but his real feeling was unmistakable. He was really the Rogal Dorn he and his battle group had known for ten thousand years. ?

But if, if only Lysander is willing to throw everything he has and his past glory into the dark abyss as a sacrifice, then the Primarch can finally return to the mountain formation and lead the Imperial Fists...

Beads of sweat quietly broke out on his forehead at some point.

Is it better to wake up from this dream, or continue to dream it?

Meanwhile on the other side.

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Destiny Steel

The harmonious atmosphere of the hall of the Twelve Temples with fragrant clothes and shadows (?)

It is well known that followers of Ohm's Messiah are often difficult to please with mortal pleasures or entertainment.

Just because they have dedicated themselves to the higher goals and gods, their flesh and blood are weak, and the pleasure of serving the knowledge of the gods of all machines is far better than the vulgar pleasures of the mortal world - well, at least what priests face most of the time This is probably what the people of the Empire, the Astral Legion, or some Adeptus Astartes expressed.

However, the mechanical thinking circuit of Sage Nilanvela, who has taken her seat at this moment, has become lazy, and she no longer wants to cover up anything, unless it is too extraordinary - the presets in her appendages and auxiliary processing units The code will help her not get to the point where she loses her temper.

Although her loyal Skitarii Alpha and other warriors still held their weapons tightly and devoted their sights to the one who didn't know why he didn't move, but instead stared at her like a crow, making her very uncomfortable. Space Wolves Space Marines, but they had also unknowingly drank cup after cup of more than normal amounts of a drink made from the craft white Grosko Woman and refined promethium. Well, it’s not entirely their fault that they weren’t. ?

After all, Nilanvilla's mechanical oral sensors and the information she obtained from the data links of the Skitarii told her that all these food and drinks that looked fresh and delicious were actually fresh and delicious. Added freshly peeled lemon peels, real spice plant brewing liquid and pure edible ethanol.

Too extravagant.

This is all she feels about this welcome banquet now. As a qualified machine who has her brain and backup memory unit installed on her chest and lower back, and her main power reactor and memory storage unit installed on her removed uterus and ovaries. Sage, this kind of single-minded focus with few multitasking is rare.

Therefore, it is normal for a sage who comes with the idea of ​​"I want it all" to have a favorable impression of everything here unconsciously, right?

At the same time, she also appeared to be much more patient with the awkward conversation that the head of the Rogue Trader family kept having nothing to say.

And he's still chattering about how adorable his dog is in that penetrating, deep voice that's perfect for reciting binary prayers and mechanical hymns, as penetrating as a hammer on an anvil. Humph, the Rogue Trader's extravagant and useless little hobby. They always kept some expensive and rare ornamental pets. For example, another Rogue Trader captain she knew even kept aliens on his ship.

Well, that black and white furry four-legged creature is indeed eye-catching. Sage Nilanvera will not admit that his No. 3 and No. 4 sensors have scanned its head and tail hair many times, but the flesh and blood Living things are too fragile for immutable metals, and knowing that its fur is comparable to wool and cashmere means nothing to steel limbs. The Adeptus Mechanicus has its own way of measuring heat energy.

"Sage Nilanvera?"

Oh, why is she distracted again? The sage representative turns the front of the female mask in the direction of the questioning voice.

The man who was too perfect and charming by the standards of flesh and blood, or the standards of mechanical eyes, was raising his glass to her, and next to him was the silly Astropath girl who only lowered her head and shivered. It is really a waste of her gifted beauty. Maybe she can get this girl later, make the body into a servitor, and use the powerful brain as a Geller force field experiment... This psychic counter What happened? Is the sensor broken? Why can't the numbers be displayed? What a trouble... "May the light of Ohm's Messiah keep your sensors healthy, sage." Well, she could generously forgive this lame compliment from the unusually handsome captain, as long as he could do it next Be more knowledgeable...

Several metal appendages of the Mechanical Sage protruded from under her robe with sticky gel, and one held a video servo skull so that she could record the beauty and details of this banquet for future use. In order to hold a banquet here, she sent some pre-written parchment rolls to the table. On them were written in High Gothic and sacred binary language the contract she was going to ask the Rogue Trader to sign. , the last one was looking towards Captain Carosini's hatefully handsome face when she raised the wine glass with her own hand.

At this time, several rays of light flashed through the mechanical aperture of her mask.

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And in the temporary psychic communication channel on the other side.

(…Uh-huh, I thought I would just sit here and talk nonsense with her for an hour or two, and then Bella Kahn would change her name before she went back. But it seems like something is going on… I said, Were she and her subordinates completely unaware that their appearance was beginning to become very problematic?)

(This is the effect of the Plague God's cognitive filter. Since one of our special correspondents has not sent back the signal, Lamizane, you still have to talk nonsense with her. Oh, and you! Don't think I can do some tricks while my typing speed is slow! Ma-Atra!)

(It's Uthelma Atla, okay, I really can't help it anymore. I'm starting to think that the changelings I've seen in... It's very clean and tidy. Please do something, please. I feel itchy all over. I can't control my hands! I want to throw souls at this pile of rotten and smelly mechanical meat. Can fireball and lightning!)

(Then lower your head, endure it, just endure it for a while and it will pass.)

(You said it easily, calming the raging psychic energy is not as easy as you think.)

(Thanks for complaining, Maatra, I'm not Guilliman and I know what psionics feel like.)

(Maatra’s experience sounds really rich. Can you tell me about it later? I said, how long do we need to talk? Is that corpse water under her robe? I said! Will mechanical limbs be like this?! Wait, Wait, (Gutella swears), what does her tentacle dripping with pus and rotten teeth want to do?!)

(Prospero's sky! Don't come here!)

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The golden cup filled with wine fell to the ground.

Makes a crisp tinkling sound.

The air in the banquet hall was filled with the strong smell of ozone, burning, scorched ash, and dried swamp mud. The rusty metal melted by plasma, melt beams, and jet flames hissed through the sparse living environment. The material flowed to the ground, making a mess on the exquisite carpets and floors.

The frightened Fifteenth Primarch maintained his spell-casting posture, and the afterglow sparks of the most violent psychic storm in the vast ocean still lingered and danced on his fingertips.

Lamizane blinked and looked at the shield that was opened in front of him and the iron ring soldiers equipped with plasma and melt cannons that had been ambushed in the walls around the banquet hall. A mechanical sage who is a half-condensed inorganic shell that can no longer be twisted.

Vanus rose slowly from the shadows on the other side of the hall - drawing most of the first wave of fire from the Skitarii's deadly radiation weapons.

The black-and-white dog sat on his high sofa with an expressionless expression, watching everything coldly.

"Wow." Lamizane finally sighed, "It seems that our competition has come to an end."

　croak.

　　The plan is to post the Dantioch Interlude 3 first (because I forgot to label Dantioch’s Interlude 2 when I posted it yesterday (you)). Due to a small accident, I may have to do the Phoenix Interlude. Expand (?) or simply write it into the following text line

　　UMM, the third interlude of Dantioch was not particularly pleasant. It was so gentle for three interludes. Someone needs to take a stab at Iron Fist.

　　

　

(End of this chapter)