Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Just as her king said, the remains of Lilia Ande can speak.

To be more precise, she speaks Nostramo as fluently as the Eldar language. Because when the king's Haemonculus deputy, Ms. Valkyra Uris, arrived at this human world that the king particularly valued, she took the initiative to invent a language infusion device for the king.

Just insert the probe into the cerebral cortex, and the complex biotechnology will push the needle to record a complete set of language modules in a healthy or imperfect brain.

After that, just endure the sweet pain of dizziness for a few days - this symbolizes the king's love for them, and you can use the instilled language as proficiently as your mother tongue.

Through the second layer of skin that is close to the flesh and blood on her face, the iron fence mask she was given by the blood prince Koz, Lilia Ande saw another human holding a box of gifts requested by the king, trembling and coming to her to report.

Why do they always look so scared?

"These are used gas lamps, with fragments from twenty years ago, covers from eighteen years ago, and some that were just produced in the past two years and are still usable..."

"Bury them in the backyard." Lilia Ande followed the king's order to bury the daily waste in the backyard of this temporary manor. "Anything else?"

"This... This is the children's clothing that Gemeier's tailor shop made ten years ago, and there are also teenagers' clothing from the same batch..."

Lilia Ande's picky eyes told her that her king would not wear such fancy, tasteless, outdated clothes, with lace, onyx and spinel all over his body.

But this is the first gift she has received recently that can be disguised as the king's childhood clothes. Does she need to refuse?

"Take it away and throw it away. Go now." A familiar voice sounded at the door of the hall, and Lilia Ande immediately knelt on one knee and saluted her king excitedly. No matter how many times she had the honor of meeting Conrad Coates, she could not restrain her urge to pay tribute to the Lord of the Royal Court whom she respected so much.

"And you, Remains." Curze noticed his loyal Remains servant, and his busy brain took a few seconds to think about the arrangements for her and other Eldar, "All of you... Go back to the ship. Enter the webway. Don't return to the real universe before I call you, especially don't run into the fleet of the Imperial Expeditionary Force..."

Lillia Ande nodded her head covered by the iron mask silently, and went to execute Conrad Curze's order without hesitation.

She almost bumped into the black-robed man who was walking in at the iron gate that had just been repaired in the courtyard.

The black-robed man patted her shoulder in a friendly manner, brushed past her, and asked Conrad Curze in the hall with exaggerated surprise: "Your pseudo-emperor, is it really necessary to turn this place into a happy nest where you have lived for twenty years overnight?"

Curze gently pushed away the person who brought him children's clothes with one finger, and grabbed the gift list that Lilia Ande had made for him on the table.

Various items produced at different times in the past twenty years, from pens, vases, and the local children's educational toys; to scimitars, ceremonial daggers, claw gloves and laser guns, are now all reasonably distributed in every corner of the building.

Sprinkle a little artificial dust and add a few marks of time. In just a few days, the life trajectory of a Primarch in this house for twenty years has been basically laid out.

Koz put down the list and did not answer Morse's question directly.

"Have they reached orbit?" he asked.

"Yes, yes." Morse pointed to the sky, "The airdrop pod may hit the ground at any time and smash through the adamantium... Speaking of this, is your incubator still in Gomor?"

Koz's face condensed, and it was difficult to tell whether his black eyes, which were already large in pupils, had expanded again. "...No, it doesn't matter. My incubator must have sunk into the deep core of Nostramo, living with the lava, destroyed in the crustal fire, and difficult to dig out again..."

"Okay, okay. I can see that you really don't want others to know that you grew up in Gomor." Morse smiled, "I hope you won't be exposed."

"Just like you never directly mentioned the existence of mechanical Perturabo; I don't know what the three people who came here are like in this world."

Coze walked into the house, checked the circuits in the corridor, and used a handkerchief to wipe off the inappropriate dust brought to this old house by outsiders coming and going.

"If there are people who regard me and the aliens as the same kind of raccoon and the same kind of dirt, wouldn't conflicts arise and disputes arise? They are the golden bodies and jade children who have been around the emperor for several years, and I am just a bloody and grotesque person who has just returned today..."

"Do you also know that you are bloody and grotesque, respected Night Demon Blood Marquis?" Morse smiled.

"Of course!" Konrad Koz said, adjusting his breathing and holding back more tongue-twisting words. "I don't plan to change it. This is exactly what I like... Can you help me screen it with psychic power again to see if there are any obvious flaws in this house?"

Morse looked up at the sky and murmured, "This is your preference. I don't plan to participate."

"Then I will ask Petu..."

Koz looked at a corner of the city, where the airdrop pod crossed the sky, and the fire and smoke brought by the crash to the ground were rolling into the dark sky.

——

His legionary banner fluttered in the hands of his warrior, a veteran of Clan Averni from Terra. A steely silver hand embroidered on black velvet, the edge of the banner repeatedly broken and stitched together to match the battles of the years.

Beside him, within his reach, Fulgrim's eagle banner was held by his favorite Terran swordmaster, the golden eagle spread its wings in the deep purple.

He knew this banner so well since their meeting on Terra Watt, second only to his own legionary banner, and even slightly higher than his personal banner against the silver dragon Arcinos.

A little further away, the bright yellow banner of the Imperial Fists fell into the hands of the chief templar in yellow armor and black and white robes without any surprise.

Rogal Dorn's face was as solemn as ever, and the severity of his character was fully reflected in his every move, without any intention of hiding it.

The stubbornness of the Primarch of the Imperial Fists was well known among the Primarchs who had returned so far. Once, he and Dorn almost had an irreconcilable conflict over the strategy of a battle. Horus Lupercal, who happened to be present at the time, mediated and cleverly eased the intensity of the conflict.

However, that conflict did not affect the relationship between the Iron Hands and the Imperial Fists. Ferrus Manus was not even surprised by Rogal Dorn's stubborn character.

After all, Rogal Dorn and Perturabo were always so close, and Perturabo was a well-known weirdo.

"Is the signal tower that sent that signal really here?" Fulgrim's pleasant and doubtful voice floated in Ferrus' ears.

Ferrus listened to the Phoenix's words attentively, recalling Fulgrim's bright and joyful face when the signal came from the communication room a few days ago.

"Do we really have a brother...growing up here?"

"We can explore forward." Ferrus answered his brother.

Fulgrim's eyes reflected the empty and silent old streets around him, and he frowned at the corpses in fancy clothes hanging on the top of the rusty dim street lamps.

As the three Primarchs and their temporarily selected ten-man guards moved forward on the surface of the planet called Nostramo, they became more and more puzzled by the strangeness of this planet.

Wherever they went, the streets were empty, and every household - or the shabby shacks that could barely be called homes, all closed the doors and windows that might exist.

Even if they clearly heard the breathing of humans in these houses, gasping weakly, no one could overcome the fear in their hearts, break the silence of the curfew, and appear in front of them.

In addition, every street seemed to have been strictly and thoroughly swept and washed, and more than once, to remove filth and debris. The current rulers here seemed to have an almost paranoid emphasis on cleanliness.

If it were placed on an ordinary planet, this would certainly not be a problem, and it would even be a habit worthy of praise.

However, when corpses and human skins were hung every few dozen meters in the spotless long street, and the drizzle fell into the drainage ditch along these fresh corpses, things became very subtle.

In comparison, the permanently dark sky and the seemingly endless drizzle here were simply the most insignificant environmental factors.

In the middle of the empty long street, a soft whisper suddenly came from a hidden electronic speaker on the street, and Dorn immediately and accurately marked the location of the speaker with his sight.

"Primarchs from all over the galaxy," Nostramo and Medusa are both polyconsonant languages, but the speaker's accent is more delicate and sticky, as if the language is a precious thing worth savoring slowly on his tongue, "As the second communication we sent to you said, I am the eighth Primarch, Conrad Curze."

"I am very happy that after such a long time, I have the honor to witness several respectable brothers coming to my little dark planet..."

"Oh, it will guide you. Come, respected children of the Emperor. Follow it, but unfortunately my residence is very ordinary and I can't entertain you as much as I want. In any case, I look forward to meeting you."

The whisper gradually merged into the drizzle in a chuckle and returned to the depths of silence.

A mechanical gadget attached to the street lamp suddenly grew blade-like legs and feet, and crawled to the soles of the Primarchs as lightly and agilely as a small spider. A kind of dark green energy silk wandered on its surface to power it.

Dorn's attention was strangely drawn to the small machine, as if he was thinking about some possibility.

A trace of sadness appeared on the phoenix's alabaster-white face.

"Why does he act this way?" the third Primarch asked, with more confusion than displeasure on his brow. "When have we ever annoyed him? Why does he have to compete with us like this, not being honest, playing tricks?"

Ferrus withdrew his attention from the exquisite blade-legged spider machine, unsure how he should comfort Fulgrim.

Many times, Fulgrim did not really need comfort, he just casually sent out some careless complaints, and the accumulated emotions were fleeting, but Ferrus always tried to figure out his psychology.

"Konrad Curze may have his reasons." The Iron Hand Primarch said, "Perhaps he regards the first meeting as an implicit competition."

Fulgrim smiled and tapped the hilt of the flaming sword at his waist with his fingertips.

"I will not be dissatisfied with your explanation for a brother I have never met, Ferrus. But I would like to ask him, since he has such control over his streets, he must know that the corpse before us is What's going on?"

Fulgrim turned to look at Dorne: "Dorn, are you leaving?"

Donn's eyes followed the small machine. "Let's go," he answered in one syllable.

In this small march led by the small machine, the three primarchs soon realized that the instructions received by the machine were actually to lead them on a tour within the area of ​​​​Nostramo.

They walked past luxury towers and luxurious estates that were like independent behemoths, and also passed by sleepy suburban industrial factories, looking at the mines with their lights on in the distance.

Near the newly formed ruins of many large buildings, around the toppled statues, broken fountains and burnt ornate birdhouses, there is often a dense and chaotic pile of buildings separated by a wall, made of simple wooden boards, iron sheets and bricks. Blocks are pieced together to form a layered three-dimensional structure.

The buildings in this area were built spontaneously, without planning or block structure. The alleys are criss-crossed, narrow and winding, and the distance between houses is only a few palms wide.

The appearance of the building is equally diverse, patchworked from a variety of materials, with makeshift cables and water purifiers clustered on the roof, making it chaotic and unmanaged. The population density living in this area is simply lamentable.

Under the dim light cast by the dim yellow flickering street lights, visitors to the empire had to become familiar with the human skins and dead bodies hanging everywhere, and found some commonality among these dead people.

Most of the victims were very wealthy during their lifetime. Even if this is not the case, it is probably located at some apex of force or the underlying power system.

"I feel..." A touch of solemnity flashed across the surface of Fulgrim's nearly flawless cheek, "I understand something."

He lowered his head, and the acidic raindrops from Nostramo accumulated on the concave and convex surface of his golden eagle emblem. He blinked several times, wiped away a few drops of acid rain with his fingers, placed it between his fingers and rubbed it quietly, as if feeling the non-existent burning.

"This is a world full of shadows," he said, following the small machine crawling forward quickly and raising his gaze.

In front of him, a newly restored manor stood impressively.

The exterior walls of the house are covered with colorful paint, as if a madman has been painting here for years, forming a strange landscape. The mottled brick walls reveal the erosion of the years. A small children's ride-on toy fell in the courtyard, with sprinkles sprinkled on it. With a pool of blood.

Inside the building, the lights were dim and there were many ghosts. The newly built iron gate inconsistently blocks visitors from entering. A rather huge statue was placed on the roof, covered with a dark cloth.

The next moment, the statue suddenly came back to life, its cloak rolled up, and it jumped down from the top of the building, landing right in front of the three original bodies and their guards.

He raised his head, his pale face smiling strangely and paranoidly under the dim light.

"Welcome to visit here, friends of the empire."