God Emperor’s Angel of Death

Marcus Ognis Lucretius could feel death touching every inch of his skin, which made him feel pain—a pain deep in his bones.

The heretics are doing something in this church, reflecting a long shadow, making the sharp voice echo in the subspace, like a scream.

Since Marcus set foot in Valledo, this feeling has never stopped, like a shadow of death.

Like that damn bird.

It is standing there, its curved claws gripping the edge of the girder tightly.

The bird just stood there, motionless, never blinked, never crowed, never trimmed her feathers, it just stood there and stared at Marcus.

On the pillar below where it stands, there is a mark smeared with blood, and the pungent smell passes through the thick smell of smoke into everyone's nose.

That is a spiral around the narrow pupil, a sign of heresy.

The spiral entangled perfectly, making Marcus a little surprised to see, and he felt a short breath.

The person who painted this sign fell under this pillar, his body was extremely broken, and he could only vaguely see the state priest’s robe and a large number of feathers he wore during his lifetime, and his skin was pierced with colorful colors. Tattoo with metallic luster.

This heresy is the bishop of this church and is also one of the heretics pursued by Marcus. Before the riots, he had identified several important lists and planned to carry out secret arrests. .

But the subsequent rebellion interrupted Marcus's plan. The bishop hid in the shadows. He thought he was hiding perfectly, but he was wrong.

In front of the Magistrate trial, heresy has nowhere to hide.

Because Marcus does not need footprints, vision or even sound to hunt, he can follow the taste of heresy in the dark to come under the pillar where he draws the logo.

Then destroyed him.

Only a handful of people know that, in addition to being a Magistrate, Marcus is also a psionicist and a capable person of the psychic system. This is also his last killing move.

But now, looking at the sign of this heresy, he unconsciously clenched the family sword in his hand, and the psionic crystal on the top of the hilt also buzzed.

Suddenly, the pillar in front of him began to shatter, and the fragments splashed out and floated in the air around Marcus with other objects, including tools, rivets, screws, empty bullet shells, broken bones...

These objects floated around Magistrate, and even the ground under his feet trembles, and the pipe above his head bends and twists.

He tasted the smell of blood. The blood splashed on Marcus's lips. It was the blood on the pillar, the blood that painted the heresy.

That eye, it never blinks, just like that bird.

"Marcus."

A voice sounded, forcing Marcus to look away from the bird.

One of his entourage, Verne, a retired Astra Militarum veteran is standing on his right side with the laser gun held in his hand but not raised.

Not far away, another of his entourage, Karthus, an assassin who worships death, is also watching him.

Although his face is hidden under the pale skull mask, Marcus can feel it, assassin's vigilant and killing intent eyes.

The accident is not the first time that the accident has happened to him, the danger has been waiting for him.

The loss of psionic control is a problem that every psionicist will face.

And the ending is often very bad.

Marcus wanted to speak, but found that he could not speak, as if the blood on his lips sealed his mouth.

Something entangled around him like a storm.

The arc kept flashing from his exquisite breastplate, but Verne did not flinch.

"Control."

The meaning carried in the words of the veteran is very clear. His gun did not move, and the muzzle hanging down was round and black, like that bloody eye, like The bird’s eyes are the same.

"Control."

Malthus repeated quietly.

More blood poured into Marcus's mouth, as if to drown him.

Marcus blinked, constantly recalling the trials he had received in the past, and filling his mind with firm beliefs.

After a burst of heat, she saw it behind his eyes-a giant tree made of human tissues stood in the center of the huge courtyard, and its roots were tightly wrapped like bird's claws On the ground under the feet, the white crown of the tree stretched upward, touching the sky full of thunderstorms.

In the sky, a silver-gray falcon is fighting against a faintly discernible giant snake in the clouds. Its scream shook Heaven and Earth.

This is a sign, or a sign.

After that, Marcus felt the pain in his body eased,

"Don't worry."

He was finally able to speak.

"I won't collapse."

The objects surrounding him fell to the ground one after another, sounding like a storm.

After taking a few deep breaths, Marcus rubbed the blood off his face with his hand, leaving a trace of red.

"I saw it, the enemy is here, in the dark."

Seeing Marcus returning to normal, several other people also sighed in relief, Verr. Na took the opportunity to light a cigarette.

"Call the fleet?"

"I am afraid it is difficult. Subspace communication has been enveloped by the shape of the dark projection, and everything is changing."

Although the words are very clear, Marcus knows that few people at the scene can understand it. This is more like a cold joke from that bird.

He has seen the bird for several months, and it has been following him since he walked on the streets of the guard star’s nest.

But as long as he could see the creature, he never mentioned the bird to anyone, especially Verne.

This will make him nervous, thinking this is a stupid invitation to death.

Only Marcus himself knows that this is just a mysterious subspace creature, just like all the moments of his life, it is just another trial.

And he will never collapse.

The veteran walked to the broken corpse in the bishop. After a lot of time, he kicked the oil lamp on the side. The leaked holy oil ignited the fire and swallowed the remains

"Okay, now it's up to him to respond to the previous stupidity."

The assassin nodded leaning on a pillar,

"We will all be in death Among them."

Although he is used to the other party's pessimism, Verne shook the head this time.

"Then death has to catch me first."

This remark made Marcus laugh, laughing so loudly that he coughed violently.

"The death must be lucky. I want to catch a thorn like you."

Verne smiled, but it was a real skin Laughing meat does not laugh.

They all feel pain from the fatigue of the battle. Since coming to this planet, they have been pulling the trigger almost every second, and they have been swinging the combat knife every minute.

Every time the enemy is destroyed, the pain increases, but the pain does not prevent them from continuing to fight, swinging the knife, shooting, and killing.

Marcus glanced at the corpse on the ground again, and after confirming that the other party had been completely destroyed, he took out a small encrypted data board and started recording.