Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 290 This time

Talos Valkoran, the Prophet, lay there, blinking.

The familiar feeling of weakness and muscle soreness after his coma caused by his second sight eroded him.

The light red light curtain on his retina, the white Nostramo runes and other icons on it formed his familiar vision.

The first thing that catches the eye is the ceiling of the cabin passage.

He recognized this place, this was the main corridor of the Echo of the Damned.

Yes, he remembered, the bridge reported an attack, so they immediately boarded the Dark End and returned to the ship, together with...!
A bolt of thunder split open the remaining fog in his mind. Father! Where is their lost genetic father? ! He pushed his body to stand up, and the servo motors in his joints made a harsh buzzing sound with his sudden movement.

Then he felt that his body was in the same poor condition as the power armor. The flashing warning runes on the top showed that his chest armor had been hit hard by melee weapons, his bone plates were cracked, and there was some internal bleeding. But for the time being, it was stopped by his own repair function.

Talos twisted his neck slightly and immediately felt the fresh sting of the injection on his neck.

What's this? His blood test data emerged in the corner of the light red retina. They were extra injections of stimulants, not the ones originally in his armor. The stocks of those things have now bottomed out for some reason, as if he had just passed through A fierce battle.

"How are you, Talos. Good to see you're awake."

But he remembered that his last image was on the Dark End.

As the shattered Sirion moved away from his figure, the source that had been hidden behind him had made Talos Valcolan feel vague and urgent uneasiness from the beginning, a picture that made his hands covered with countless A scene emerged of the Midnight Lord Commander's blood freezing instantly as his life and soul lost heat.

"Septimus?" When Talos tried to speak, he realized that his voice was like a gnat. He tasted the strong smell of blood in his mouth and breath, as well as the blood of others.

"Septimus? First Claw, or whoever, report the situation." He repeated it again, this time slightly louder, so someone heard him.

"What are you talking about...? Ciel? Ciel?!"

The Smiling Lord didn't look smiling at all at this moment.

He felt uneasy. A strange and intense uneasiness enveloped him that he had never felt before.

Has everyone joined the enemy? But were his brothers dragging him into battle expecting him to suddenly wake up and join them? Has the war situation reached this point?

"I don't understand why you would mention your mortal slave first at this time instead of caring about your brother. Talos, you also mentioned 'him', and it was that moment that finally broke your head. Are you ready?" Cerion looked at the other party carefully with a strange expression.

Most of the Night Lords should be guarding the original body, but except for his own First Claw, there seems to be no more Night Lords here.

"I won't die yet. Sai. What's going on... Where is my lord? Where are the others?"

The bloodied face of Sirion appears from above.

There was silence all around, with only the faint aftertaste of energy field decomposition and bloody fighting lingering around everyone.

It's Ciel.

It was the unbeatable Charr, the champion of their little Broken Warband.

But Talos could hardly believe that it was him. With their centuries-or thousands of years of friendship-he didn't even want to believe that it was his partner, his comrade-in-arms, and his best brother. Not far away from them, the half-destroyed human figure leaning leaning against the blood-spattered bulkhead... That was... almost the entire frontal structure of the skull was "gone" - or in other words, the entire Ciel with the upper half of his face "gone".

Due to multiple violent impacts, his eyebrow arch had been completely shattered. The middle and lower part of his forehead bone had turned into a blurry mixture of flesh and bone fragments. The nose bone looked as if it had been hit by a can The thunder hammer that penetrated the tank armor was shattered when hit from the front, turning into an obvious depression in the middle of his face. The two eyes of this brave warrior looked surprisingly pale due to the loss of part of the blood supply and compression. Peeking out stubbornly from beneath the large mass of edema and completely broken skin.

Talos's throat tightened, and his voice seemed too falsely relaxed.

"Ciel?" He asked almost holding his breath, "Are you... okay?"

He was answered by a heavy sigh-like breath from the warrior, but after a moment, Ciel tried his best to make the corner of his mouth look like a cruel sneer.

"Yes, I feel better. I can still fight." His most loyal partner and best brother heard his voice, and then slowly moved his broken body, but his left shoulder was obviously It was a comminuted fracture, because the solid arm now seemed to be hanging limply at his side, "Don't worry, Talos, I can still fight, it's okay."

"I can't believe you actually killed him. I've never seen such a duel." Selion came over and handed Ciel's bat-winged helmet to him.

The Night Lords champion looked almost about to make a proud face, but the sharp pain in his skull prevented his joy. Bloody fingers groped for his helmet, bearing the emblem of the Eighth Legion, the ferocious face of the Midnight Spawn that had roamed the galaxy for the last ten thousand years.

"Kill him? Who?" Talos breathed hard. His heart beat faster and faster, and his throat became tight. He reached out and tried to grab his golden sword, but found that it was not here -

There it was, the white wings of the power sword splattered with the blood and entrails of the Chapter Champion of the Origin Chapter, the entrails of the Astartes in solid crimson and bronze armor hanging like bloody ribbons on Oulu On the blade of Mu's sword, the blood drops that had not yet solidified swayed slightly and dripped down, which were as bright red as the ruby ​​teardrops on the sword.

"We have to move and find other Fierce Claws to join together. I heard that the void shield stopped again, and there will be more lackeys of the false emperor who will join the gang." Makutian staggered over, and he lost his Power backpack, looks to be in very bad condition.

"Wait a minute! Where is he?! Where is he? Where is my lord? Why don't you mention our father?!"

Ciel grumbled, rocking to his feet and snapping his helmet back onto his head, his voice almost sounding like it had before.

"Talos," he said, "my brother."

"……how……"

"I regret having argued with you before. There's nothing wrong with wanting to live a meaningful life, or trying to find a way out of this war."

"We will talk about this later, brother, first we have to find our Highness."

"Okay," he responded, "we'll talk about that later. But where is the Primarch you're talking about? Talos? Where is he? I..."

Talos watched helplessly as thin lines of blood flowed out along the cracks in Ciel's armor. The ever reliable and steadfast Ciel, swaying like a dead leaf in the wind, walked half way towards Talos. He took a few steps and then fell into the arms of the prophet.

The life rune representing Ciel flickered and turned into a straight line.

The power of the High Heaven laughed wildly with extreme regret and hatred and swallowed up the delicious Talos Valcoran.

——If it weren’t for her trembling cry.

A woman's voice came from far away.

"Wake up! Talos! Wake up!"

(End of this chapter)