Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

The smell of sand and dust was close in front of him, and the gravel scraped across his snow-white stone-carved face, leaving a trace of noon scorching touch. Listening quietly to the sound of the earth under the sand layer, a quiet and long humming sticks to the earlobes that touch the ground, and reaches the mind, bringing a soothing feeling unique to hot sand.

Only by gaining the ability not to quickly rot under radiation can one truly enjoy the gift brought by Baal's temperature.

Sanguinius opened his eyes, supported himself on the ground with his hands, climbed up from the sand, pulled his clothes, and shook his wings behind him to remove the sand all over his body.

He smelled the familiar smell of Baal II in the air, and then he was sure that this place was indeed in reality, not a fantasy with many nests.

The angel shook his head, laughed, stretched his arms, then turned his waist, hooked down with the tip of his wings, and turned Conrad Curze, who was also lying on the ground, over.

A voice came from the air. "When I contacted Magnus, Rogal Dorn was trying out the Court of Narni branch on the Phalanx."

Morse appeared from the air that was fluctuating due to the heat and floated beside Sanguinius. He still held the Emperor Tarot in his hand, using it as a miniature fan, fanning the air casually.

The black-robed man said, "Yes, the Lord of the Imperial Fist has been watching your performance from the side."

"Is this really reality?" Sanguinius asked, even though Baal's smell had convinced him. "Or is it another layer of dream space?"

"To be precise, the Court of Narni is not a dream. But if we want to discuss this in depth, you can call Magnus out first and discuss the definition of dreams with him."

Morse shook the Magician Tarot card in his hand, and Sanguinius saw the red-haired magician on the card again. I'm afraid that compared to the cipher in the second layer of the dream just now, this is the real key.

So, does Perturabo also have a corresponding Tarot?

"And we must build a double-layer hyperreality space so that we can directly access the repeater without borrowing the facilities of the Court of Narni." Morse briefly explained the principle, "A virtual environment must exist to import the underlying configuration."

"Okay, Morse. But how many people were watching just now?" The angel asked helplessly, spreading his hands.

"No more people." Morse said affirmatively.

The angel hesitated: "Perturabo is not here too, right?"

"No, Perturabo is really in the Satrada Abyss, and the letter I sent last time has not even received a response."

"Where is the Emperor?" A low and hoarse voice came, accompanied by the sound of sand sliding.

"I dare not speak directly." Morse did not answer directly, and this was an answer.

Conrad Curze woke up from lying on his back, and whispered a curse familiar to Sanguinius from his throat, even though Sanguinius still didn't understand what that sentence meant.

Morse understood the meaning of that sentence, raised his eyebrows with a little surprise, and then laughed silently.

Sanguinius had to nervously review the entire dream, speculating one by one who was the incarnation of the Emperor, and whether he had shown an inappropriate side in front of anyone.

He exhaled and forced himself to relax his worries. After all, in the first layer of the dream, he didn't even have wings, and was completely a pure human.

The Emperor didn't come to him immediately, which meant that he had no opinion on him and the current Baal Triple Sphere.

"Why didn't you take care of Perturabo?" Conrad sneered in response to Morse's smile. "Let him fight with rats there?"

"He didn't take the initiative to ask me to go, I don't think it's a good thing to interfere." Morse shrugged his shoulders, "How can there be no death in war?"

Besides, he had taken the time to take a brief look at the hull that Perturabo threw on the Iron Wyrm to confirm that everything was normal.

At least at the moment when he went to observe, the entire fleet was still in a tense but well-functioning war dispatch state. The advance team and infiltrators were still sending one pre-war intelligence survey after another to the combat command room to best play the characteristics of the Iron Warriors' information collection and the heavy firepower of the fleet.

Under Perturabo, every Iron Warrior is a master of firepower dispatch and macro-control of the battlefield, and the higher the rank, the more so.

"It seems that you can't wait for the infrastructure construction project that the Iron Warriors can't wait to distribute to everyone," Curze laughed in a low voice, "What a pity, Archangel, just like the place where I first set foot, because of its special... innate architectural features, I can't get the theater, highway and bathhouse combination gift package sent by our dear brother Perturabo."

"Didn't you sign a pile of adamantium mining cooperation agreements with the Olympia Cluster during the Olympia Games?" Morse broke through Conrad Curze's pretended complaint, "And do you allow others to touch your city?"

Coz shrugged boringly.

"Where are we going now?" Sanguinius kept the strange word "bathhouse" in his mind and looked up at the black dots floating in the sky.

They were right below the air fleet stationed by Conrad Curze on Baal Scepter II. Several small airships could be seen floating around the ship-shaped vehicle, like broken dark stars surrounding a dim star.

Every time he saw them, Sanguinius had to sigh at Conrad Curze's special style that was incompatible with the light of Baal.

"I don't know, I've already sent a meeting gift." Morse said easily. His original purpose of coming here was to see if Conrad and Sanguinius would fight. The results he got were regrettable.

"Is there anything else you would like to do, or wish the Empire to do for you, Sanguinius?" Curze asked. "With Baal, or with anything else. If not, I will return to the ship to receive the moon that the courtiers have given me. Pay it forward. Call me again when you dream of more fragments of the future."

"Hmm..." Sanguinius thought for a moment and was speechless.

Morse observed the angel's expression for a while. His own expression remained unchanged, and he easily came to a conclusion: "A common phenomenon."

"What?" Sanguinius felt the sensory reminder from the feathers, stood on the other side of the two people, spread his wings, and blocked the sudden burst of sand and dust.

"Same as Conrad," Morse continued.

"How dare I compare with the great Blood Angel of Baal?" Conrad immediately replied.

Sanguinius retracted the wings that blocked Conrad's half of the sand and let the sand rush towards the Blood Marquis. "How dare I compare with the great Midnight Angel?" he said with a soft smile. "So, what do you mean, friends of the Emperor?"

"You don't want the empire to interfere in your territory, so you are hesitating here," Mors said, throwing a rune behind the angel to better block the interference of the wind and sand. "You are not Mortarion, so you will not He also thinks that improving the local climate will affect the resilience of the local people, right?”

Although when Mors learned about this from Malcador, he deeply felt that the reason why Mortarion said that was that the Mechanicus was eager to transform Barbarus into the style of the Forge World, so that the newly returned original The body was greatly repulsed, so I found an excuse that seemed almost manageable.

"Of course, this is not only closely related to the evil deeds of the empire itself, but also to your local problems." Morse continued, "Genes and religion, mutant genes and black descendants, pure-blood faith and reverence for the Muses... Of course, if I’m wrong, you might as well correct me directly. After all, I’m just an idle person.”

"My city is good." Konrad Curze snorted. "I took my role from the Black Descendants and this is my due."

"But our amorous and unhappy angel seems reluctant to play his role." He glanced at Sanguinius.

Sanguinius smiled, a soft light shining in his eyes.

"You can't take every complaint I make seriously. I just..." He thought for a moment, "I like to complain a little more than you think. I'm just an angel with a little complaint. Between faith and despair, I Rather they choose the former.

"This is the basic principle of the operation of imperial truth." Morse commented calmly, "Don't you, like the Emperor, be full of longing and hope for a distant future where religion has disappeared from human history? ?”

"There will be a fire there," Sanguinius smiled, spreading his wings, "a tiny ember, swaying in the wind, needing to be tended."

"Fate has revealed to me more than a spark of kindness, Sanguinius," Conrad Curze said cryptically. "What do you think?"

"You are the one who told me not to care about my fate right from the beginning, Conrad. Now I really want to provide you with a ride and take you back to your sky fleet regardless of any previous suspicion." Gilles said kindly, "Of course, in addition, I mean, if someone plans to improve the ecological environment of Baal for me for free, I will definitely not refuse."

He paused for a moment. "But it was a really good day, maybe one of my best days yet."