Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

+Rogal Dorn was not left alive. From steam aliens to manipulated humans, he's wiped out all his foes—except, of course, the harmless germs in the alien spacecraft, Malcador. +

+Yes, Macragge did have this culture. After birth, babies, regardless of gender, if they are not strong enough, are left to fend for themselves on the top of the mountain. +

+Given the catastrophic population size, the Inwit cherish their newborns, but the dead receive no more than a single bow. +

+Olympia? Olympia has a beautiful natural environment, a relaxed cultural atmosphere, high social welfare, and a wide livable area. This is why the number of our Iron Warriors is gradually approaching two hundred thousand. +

+ Nuceria? I have no idea. This depends on Angron's attitude. He is only one step away from deeply hating Nuceria's original culture. +

+I don't want to discuss whether their actions stem from a determination to kill the aliens, a kindness to bring relief to the controlled humans, or just pure ruthlessness, Malcador. I'm just objectively describing what I saw. +

+I emphasize culture? That must have been influenced by Robert Guilliman. He is the one who is so proud of Macragge that he talks about civilization's culture, legion's culture, and other such empty words every day. +

+Of course not, Chancellor of the Empire. But I think he just hasn’t thought about it yet. No, this is not an excuse for the Primarchs. I believe they just need a trigger point for thinking, a firing pin, and enough pressure to touch the sensitive spring. What? No, I will emphasize that I am in Osiris, so I don’t know anything. +

+I will be disappointed. certainly. But before that, let me believe him. +

Morse threw the golden pen holder back to the table and listened to the gadget, which combined psychic powers and the empire's cutting-edge technology, making a series of knocking sounds on the iron table.

Rogal Dorn and several company commanders and squadron captains who completed their missions returned to their battleships and continued to move in the direction of Sepetus XII. After the discovery of the first derelict Hourglass space station, the Imperial Expeditionary Forces gained a fuller understanding of Osiris' psychic xenos.

Dorn acted as the fastest scout in the vanguard. Robert Guilliman received the data sent back by Rogal Dorn and sent it to the "Iron Warrior Shipborne Analysis Model". Dantioch then sent the analysis results back to Robert. ·Guilliman, waiting for the Lord of the Ultramarines to make his decision.

The defensive barrier of the Osiris Cluster seems to have disappeared under the cooperation of several Primarchs, and their route planning and attack strategies can only be described as incredible miracles in the eyes of mortals and Space Marines.

"Through the combined efforts of our father, Primarch Robert Guilliman, and Primarch Rogal Dorn, the path to the core of the cluster has been cleared. Our forces have neutralized the Osiris xenos layer by layer. The loose defense system has been a great battle so far.”

Dantioch sat before the Thinker Nexus in the Agora Agora, issuing an open communion within the Iron Warriors' company.

At this time, everyone in the team knew that their genetic father was in Dantioch's battleship. Although they didn't quite understand it, everyone still tacitly kept this secret for their father - after all, Perturabo's decision was part of the decision. The inclusion of unsolved mysteries never diminishes, such as the craftsman Morse, whom they discuss privately in terms of "you know who."

"Next, we will enter the core defense circle of Osiris. Our enemies will no longer be the abandoned psychic race defeated at the hands of the greenskins, nor will they be the controlled orcs who pursue them without any plan. We will We are facing a battle full of unknowns, and we don’t have enough manpower.”

"After this battle, we will have richer experience in facing psychic enemies and more diverse methods. This is a battle given to his descendants by Robert Guilliman, and it is also given to us by the thirteenth Primarch. Grind.”

Dantioch felt someone tap on his shoulder. Perturabo's deep voice sounded behind him: "Let them save their lives."

"...However, in this battle, no commander wants you to waste your precious lives for no reason. You not only belong to yourself, your lives also belong to the Emperor's Sky Eagle and our genetic father. Soldiers, use it well."

"Next, I'm going to regroup the teams. First, Mesut Campos, following the Ultramarines."

The response from the Unification War veteran came over the communicator. He was once a comrade-in-arms of the late warsmith when he was at the base. Dantioch decided to let this most experienced warrior deal with the dangers that the Ultramarines would face on the main battlefield. At the same time, the newly returned Primarch The power of the Iron Warriors lies before you.

"Stanton Matthews, continue to follow the Iron Warriors fleet..."

After the task assignment was over, Dantioch looked back at his genetic father.

Perturabo sat behind him, without any armor, and his tall body was covered in a light-colored robe with golden decorative patterns in the local language of Olympia. For an instant, Dantioch thought that he had returned to Olympia a few years ago. .

At that time, Perturabo was rising to fame as a young upstart in Lokos. The country he ruled was aspirational to the citizens of half a planet, and his own portrait was circulated throughout Olympia. Then Dantioch silently denied his thoughts.

The current genetic father is far more majestic and majestic than the black-haired boy in the portrait back then, and some factors that Dantioch couldn't explain are changing in him. He became more silent and reserved, his brows seemed to be slightly furrowed forever, but some of the spiritual powers that truly distinguished this Primarch from mortals became more powerful.

"Father, shall I continue to lead the team?" Dantioch asked, responding to the searching look in Perturabo's eyes.

"It depends on the situation." Perturabo replied, "If Rogal Dorn does not carry enough offensive power, you can listen to his command. Leave the rest of the team to me."

——

Kaspion returned to the command room. It was not easy to see that Valentus was not working, but now his captain was indeed standing by the window, silently watching the large number of light spears passing through the air.

Starting a week ago, the reconnaissance mission has basically ended. Valentus's ship is wandering within the circle of the Osiris star cluster closest to the core area of ​​the Sepetus star system, staying slightly farther away from the main force than the imperial ship. The distance of the gun range can be used to complete some necessary supplementary firepower while monitoring the target.

These mortal warships enslaved by the aliens were retreating steadily under the direct command of the Space Marines and the Primarchs. The golden and blue terrifying psychic energy emitted from the Iron Warriors flagship from time to time acted as an unknown and terrifying threat, which greatly affected The faith and power of the psychic species.

Robert Guilliman's notice has been sent. Within this week, they will be able to encircle the hourglass space station, the largest of the Osiris psychic aliens.

"I remember that we also encountered these shiny weapons." Kaspion leaned next to Valentus, shoulder armors clashing with each other. "The anti-aircraft guns in the sky rushed towards our Storm Bird. That day we I almost lost my life in it.”

"That was the senseless resistance of a technological empire. And this is Mesut of the Iron Warriors."

Valentus stared intently at the Orc ships in the way that were shot down in batches by the Iron Warriors' long-range firepower. Each of their blows showed calculated beauty, and not a single laser shot was wasted. While attacking, they never left any space for the enemy to counterattack.

"Although they are attacking, I always feel that I see a group of defensive masters." Kaspion commented, curling his lips secretly, "I think we can play better."

"Discipline. Vice-Captain Varus. Primarch Robert Guilliman is showing us his discipline. You should not pursue a victory that does not belong to us at this time."

"Sir Doro! Just tell me, where have I offended you recently?"

Valentus ignored Caspian. He picked up the communication array and said, "Reconnaissance Team Three. Please speak."

"Yes." He hung up the communication and turned to look at Caspian, "You have a job. The original body asked us all to join the encirclement and prepare to join the gang with him."

Kaspion put the helmet on his head. Because all the locks had not been fixed, the electronic device built into the helmet was not activated. His voice passed directly through the layers of metal and sounded dull: "Are you going or shall I go?"

"I'll go to the captain's room to take command." Valentus said.

Caspian struggled to make a clear movement with his heavy, gauntleted fingers, and his attempt was not very successful. "Then your Stormbird belongs to me, sir. Don't worry, in order to thank you for letting me fight alongside my father, I will bring this big guy back safely."

"This is not my Stormbird, it is Legion property."

"Understood, I'll throw your coffee cup out of the window in ten minutes."

"Bastard," said Valentus.

"What?" Kaspion stopped.

"Don't throw it, you bastard."

Kaspion burst out laughing, ran back with two long strides, and gave Valentus a hug that was too heavy for an armored Space Marine.

——

He was growing testy as the war progressed. Robert Guilliman thought.

As more gunfire echoed silently in the silent depths of the universe, he thought of the nights when Conor had accompanied him to play with Macragge's copper coins and look at the stars. The stars in those memories began to burn, exploded in the splendid light spears and huge cannon muzzles, turned into dry powder under the squeeze of the alien hourglass space station and the extraction of the imperial fleet, and were broken from the inside out.

The pace of destruction sounded in the same beat as his heartbeat, driving his hot blood to rush through his body, entering the air through the airflow of his breath, leaving a burning touch above his lips.

He recalled the teachings Yudun had given him, and the look of sincere admiration and gratification that Ms. Yudun gave him after he peacefully conquered Illyrium. The endless fighting spirit in his mind gradually subsided, and his cool reason returned. Into his body, he found peace.

After discussion between Sepetus 12 and the Alien's largest hourglass space station, Roger Dorn and he agreed that they should give priority to joining the hourglass space station.

On the one hand, it will obviously take a lot of time to clear out the rebels in the entire hive without using extermination weapons. On the other hand, only by solving the core of the rebellion can we prevent more Imperial humans from destroying the alien command center. Slaved under control to fill the alien troop supply.

This also means that they will face the greatest danger in the Osiris Star Cluster: storming into the center of alien power among several observation hourglasses that look out for each other and cannot be dismantled one after another. Thirty-three thousand Astartes, the limited offensive power must be concentrated, and joining the gang is the only option.

The last obstacle blocking the alien space station and the Ultramarines fleet was about to be broken through. The large-scale stagnation caused by the alien's deflection gravity field was destroyed by the endless high-intensity heavy firepower attacks of the Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors. Several defensive space stations on the front were destroyed. torn to pieces. This also means that these two assisting fleets, which have replaced almost all their weapons with specializing in strategic bombing, are about to withdraw from the battlefield, leaving the field for the main combat power of the Battle of Osiris.

Robert Guilliman raised his hand forward. Under his command, the Goliath-class battleship crashed into the alien space station exposed in the Ultramarines' route.

The inspiring effect of a general who can lead the army in front of the formation on the soldiers will equalize the risk of the general being exposed to the enemy under certain circumstances. he thinks. Besides, he was a Primarch, the commander who promised victory to the warriors.

He left the ship and entered the scorching energy aura and strange buildings of the psionic race, moving forward amidst the ignited flames and smoke. The Space Marine's speed couldn't keep up with his full sprint. A deserted commander would do no good to the battle formation. He controlled the pace and raised the bolt gun. When the bolt flew out of the barrel, it seemed as if it fell directly from his palm. The enemy's body.

In order to achieve real-time command, he wore a helmet and used the communicator built into the helmet to guide the Ultramarines to attack in a theoretical direction.

The aliens and xenos equipment made a shrill noise in the Ultramarines' attack. Their resistance was ferocious enough, but not beyond the theoretical upper limit of Robert Guilliman's estimation.

Some ammunition was exploding, and the destructive heat wave exploded in the twists and turns of the long and narrow maze, destroying the iconic decorative clocks and gorgeous mechanical structures of this alien civilization. The alien kept wailing because of this, like hot water reaching the critical point and screaming sadly.

Guilliman took off the dagger from the magnetic buckle belt, and the blade cut through the alien's half-steam, half-solid shell, and violent wind and flames formed a wave of air. Shrill explosions were erupting in all directions. Robert Guilliman distinguished the internal structure of the alien space station and matched it one by one with the alien architectural features that the Iron Warriors had summarized for him, as if someone was guiding the way. Accurately find the shortest path time and time again amid the roar of engines and the roar and smoke of numerous war machines.

All the troop functions in the carefully planned team of the Ultramarines are used, and the collected information theory of alien weaknesses is fully used in this battle with no retreat and mercy. Their killing efficiency is even close to the extermination weapons they once used. In those years, everything benefited from the information and materials they obtained when the intensity of the war was low in the early stages of the war.

Explosives and chainswords became a rhythmic composition, and the only meaning in the music and shouts was destruction. Words and runes were nothing before the heavy bolter, the Space Marine's rapid-fire drills efficiently destroying all clear crystals and elaborate lighting devices hidden in the bauble, the blue light of power weapons and the burning bodies of aliens lit up dark.

He is destroying this alien civilization. Guilliman suddenly realized this as his blade reaped the next life. Not conquest, not revenge. All he needed from the beginning, the gift he was going to give to his army, was to destroy this alien civilization.

He raised his head and looked into the distance. The destroyed power system made everything inside the space station extremely dim, but a clear map and the analysis equipment built into the helmet had already mapped out in his brain all the war information he needed. The aliens had grossly misjudged the speed of their advance and could not move from the turret to the core of the station fast enough, even though they did show some form of unified concentration and coordination.

The Ultramarines advanced too quickly and their goals were too clear. In addition, after the Iron Warriors reorganized their army, they followed the path they opened and entered the battlefield, providing them with rear protection and allowing the Ultramarines to move forward. Worries are greatly reduced.

The command room was not far from them. If the leader of the aliens is really in this largest space station, then its ears must have been filled with merciless artillery fire.

Yes, this is the day the aliens should have considered as they kill humans, enslave human bodies, and add human treasures and skeletons to their collections. This is conquest, revenge, destruction, these words are one.

The conflict at the last protective door was brief. The Ultramarines spent less blood than Robert Guilliman expected. Although this sounds unforgiving, the current sacrifice is indeed within his acceptable range: in fact, the exchange ratio between the two sides is enough to make any general smile. The Primarch would not be proud of this. This is their duty.

Guilliman maintained a mental state between passion for destruction and rational calm, watching the explosives mixed with the steam corpses of the aliens blowing through the door. His warriors opened the way for him, and Guilliman followed the warriors. Then enter this final house.

What appeared in front of him was a monster that was far larger than any alien he had encountered before. The too tall body curled up after touching the ceiling, the weird head drooped, and hundreds of horrifying limbs emerged from every piece of this steam monster. The body parts extend outward, as if it were the ultimate aggregation of all the characteristics of the entire psychic race. It didn't hold any weapons, couldn't speak, and seemed to have no ability to take the initiative to attack.

But the next moment Robert Guilliman immediately knew that he was wrong. It was indeed a collection of this race. Perhaps more accurately, this monster was the alien race itself. The limbs fell from it, forming new entities as they landed, each part implicated in the other parts, each part a part of the whole.

His warriors fell into battle, and these newly born psychic species were still weak. They were not enough to destroy these warriors, until an extremely powerful psychic force exploded in this room like a star, sending blazing pain and scalding white edge. Scorching everyone's nerves, which were nearly immune to psychic energy, the physical violence of the raging storm toppled primarchs, warriors, and psionic beings themselves against the walls.

The nightmarish mental vortex burned the air in the room in despair, and the stinging pain caused by the terrible psychic energy penetrated his brain like long needles. Guilliman heard two high-pitched screams of extreme pain, one originating from the alien. Deep in the collective will, the other voice was his own. This was the first time he had come face to face with aggressive psychic powers. Everything was going away from him, and he fell into a pale and hot sea of ​​spirit.