God Emperor’s Angel of Death

When he died in her hands, Marcus trembled.

Even through the dimming vision, he still noticed the damage to her helmet and breastplate-the armor had split, allowing some smelly Xenos blood to flow out.

He only managed to graze her several times with more than forty explosive bombs from his heavy bomber. Although there was no direct hit, the explosion burned her-even if it didn’t look like he hoped. That made her crippled.

"Go to sleep."

She stroked him with her voice, although gentle, but somehow mocking.

Makushen grabbed the lance that pierced his chest, tried to pull it up, and moved closer to her for half a meter, feeling the harsh rubbing sound of the metal rod, rubbing against his damage Chest cavity and burnt meat.

"Go to sleep."

She spoke again and brought laughter. It was a deep and melodious laughter, which only made Marku's teeth sink. Bite together harder.

He grabbed it again, pulled it again, but barely moved—power and blood were running away from him.

She waved Lance back, and the pain when she withdrew was far worse than the brown popping when she pierced in.

Without anything supporting him, Makushen's legs stiffly fell to the ground, and the sound of the impact of the armor echoed in the air.

For a while, he lay down like a fetus, trying to breathe in the air that he couldn't breathe.

His eyesight has turned gray on the edge.

She walked past him, sou sou brushed her boots and woke him up.

In his sight, she was just a vague figure, but the training allowed him to see the specific information he needed.

With a roar of effort and pain intertwined, Makuchen moved at the fastest speed in his life, and faster than ever.

He swung his dagger, intending to pierce Lord Phoenix's right leg.

But his power has been lost too much, making the blow seem slow and weak.

"Poor harmful insect."

She laughed, turned her head and pierced his chest with lance a second time.

Makuchen grinned at her and laughed, his last breath almost disappeared, the warrior of the eighth Legion stared into the eyes of Lord Phoenix and said the last word.

"haha, you can never catch the prophet..."

Then, his Fire of Life burned out.

———————————

Lukofus landed in a dusty mist, one of his arms was gone, and the Battle Armor was damaged in many places .

But he is still alive, and Lord Phoenix failed to kill him.

Valle ignored Raptor. He stood in the rain, breathing filtered air in the sealed Battle Armor.

"I saw them."

Raptor said.

"They crawled westward off the surface on the battlements."

Valier immediately began to run, Lucfors was smiling, and Raptor's engine regained power.

After a few seconds, Lukovus attacked the rubble from behind, grabbed his shoulder guard and lifted him from the ground.

Valle doesn't like flying, but he doesn't like any Raptor even more-but this is undoubtedly the fastest way.

"en?"

When Talos first saw Valler, it was not Primaris Apothecary that was roughly thrown to the ground from above.

Primaris Apothecary finally landed on both feet, while Lukovus landed more calmly, his paws caught the curved and inclined city wall of battlements.

As Valer stood up, Talos approached Primaris Apothecary.

"I want an answer, Valer, I want it now."

"My explanation may take some time."

" Are Putims and Ottavia still here? in this world?"

"They should already not in, and it will take time to explain."

" Brother, we lack a lot of things, such as ammunition and hope, where is the Diablo?"

"It may never come back."

Valle answered regretfully, But Talos did not show any disappointment.

"Everyone move into the bunker, don’t let her find out, act now, Valer, you come with me. Start to explain."

Serion began to run wild in the rain, his The boots creaked on the rocky ground.

It is not difficult to find a shelter in this huge fortress. Although it is a prison, it is actually more like an abandoned city made up of gravel and inclined walls.

He ran for a few minutes and finally stopped, and came to a slope of ruins, which was surrounded by the wall of the barracks, next to the battlements.

The lord at midnight began to climb up, his handguards knocked and scratched on the stone, the stone was too smooth in the rain to catch.

"Have you noticed that when we lose a war, it always rains? The gods have a strange sense of humor."

The coldness of Cyrion A joke, the others didn't answer a word.

Valel spoke afterwards, but only to Talos.

"This world is a grave."

Talos responded softly.

"For Legion, for the hundreds of Spirit Races that died there tonight."

Then the prophet connected to the public channel communication.

"All the fierce claws, all the souls of the eighth Legion, this is Talos, if you are still alive, answer me."

There is only a silent answer, the cold passing through The communicator made Talos feel as if he was yelling at the cemetery.

Maybe Macarion is also dead, and this thought makes him shudder.

For a while, Talos just looked at his tactical retina.

Charles, Markushen, Uthas... everything fades gradually, everything is silent, everything is gone.

"Valle, this is not me. I doubt if there will be a prophet who will stand up to unite the eighth Legion, but if there is, it will not be me. I can't even unite with the first claw. "

"Hey."

Syrion interrupted him immediately.

"Even in the best of times, we are a group of people that are difficult to get along with."

"I mean it, Valere, what you expected is not me, not me ...Look at me, brother, tell me, do you believe that I can unite thousands of murderers, traitors, thieves and assassins? I am actually not what they thought, I never want to be one of them anymore , They deserve to die! This has always been a weakness of Legion, so we deserve to die too."

"Your loyalty to your brother is commendable, but you are too pessimistic."

Wa Liel tried to appease the prophet.

"No."

Talos shook his head and took a step back.

"I’m telling the truth. Speaking of this'prophet', in the era after the rebellion, we still have many such legends. We call them the omen of the melting pot, although in some There has never been a certainty about this, but whether this is destined or not, I am not the prophet."

Valiel nodded, Talos saw his thoughts in Brother's pale eyes.

"Primaris Apothecary, you have considered another option, I am sure."

"This concept has been with me since I gave you a physiological test. "

Valle took off his helmet.

"If a child is implanted with your Gene-seed, then he will have all the qualities to be a powerful prophet."

"You are guessing."

"Yes, but this is a good guess."

Serion cursed them on the ramp.

"If we really want to go, can we go now?"

Lucfors also climbed the ramp, but Talos and Valle did not. move.

"Do you know what Primarch said to me a few hours before his death? He said that in the years after his death, many people will claim to lead Legion, many people will claim , They are the designated successors of Primarch, but he doesn’t care at all...I hate this Legion, Valer, do you really believe that I care about what will happen to you after I die?"

Primaris Apothecary stood motionless, Talos took a deep breath.

"Sometimes, I can almost feel the feeling of Primarch, Valer, the war will last forever, and at the same time, we have to endure betrayal... We hide, we run, we raid and ambush , We drank the enemy’s blood, we also suffered endless cannibalism, my mother died in front of me, but I didn’t know her face! In the last century alone, I killed nineteen of my own Brother, it’s almost always a stupid duel for the ownership of this sword, or for hurting pride! I don’t want to unite with Legion, I hate Legion! Not because of what it is, but because of what it makes me into !"

On this dying night, Talos was finally able to speak out of the anger he had buried in his heart for ten thousand years without any scruples.

He, Talos Varkolan, and until now hate the Lord Midnight very much, hate the eighth Legion, and hate himself even more.

Valiel still didn't say a word, he didn't seem to be shocked, but he didn't have the desire to speak at all.

"Now, there is only one thing I want."

Talos said, tearing up the eighth Legion logo on him with his bare hands, tearing up the winged skeleton.

This move shocked both Cyrion and Lucfors, because in the past, such a move meant rebellion, which meant that this warrior would abandon his identity and his belonging.

"I only want the head of Xenos, I want to put it on her spear, in the center of the ruins, in the name of Talos."

Turned and walked towards the ramp.

"I must get it, Valle, you better hide it, whether I am alive or dead tonight, you are welcome to come for my Gene-seed at dawn."

Valle stood in the rain, trying to restrain the urge to follow.

"Talos--"

Suddenly, Primaris Apothecary's voice was blocked.

The prophet looked back and found that Valle's body suddenly began to bleed, and a black spear pointed out from his chest.

The next second, Primaris Apothecary began to roar. This was the first time Talos heard such a loud noise from Valler's mouth—.

After that, he covered his bloody mouth with his hand, as if he could stop the blood of life gushing from his mouth.

But the spear suddenly pulled out and threw him back.

"Uhhh..."

Valle shook half to death, and the bionic leg fired a crackle of protest—its fragmented system tried to restore balance.

When Valle fell,

The remaining three midnight lords had already begun to run at full speed.