Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

The Queen of Glory sails through the void.

"Legatus Saeculorum", this is her name.

She floats gracefully, stretching her magnificent body glowing with metallic luster in the dark abyss. The plasma balls formed by the condensed will shine with green electric light in the endless deep space, flickering in the boiling .

The non-existent air flow exploded with the blazing ionized flames, tearing apart the huge monster in front of him like a boundless wall, burning the colorful scales and squirming deep purple blood vessels on its body one by one. The pieces were burnt black and crispy, and the blood was like mist droplets.

Each bomb seemed to be accompanied by a low and angry roar of a lion. Leon El'Jonson's will was infused in the conflict of the spiritual world, and assembled on this medium in the form of entities he knew. On top of the glorious queen between the vast ocean and the real Tianchuan Galaxy.

In the Dark Angel's arsenal, there are countless kinds of extermination weapons inherited from the old night. It is difficult to find opportunities to use them properly in normal times, but at this moment, they are all used by the Lion King in the current battle of nothingness.

Void bombs that tear apart space, deadly carbon-based genetic viruses, high-energy particle beams that penetrate the ecology of the planet's surface... Every blow contains the consequences of humankind's most efficient weapon development method for tens of thousands of years - killing each other. The obtained technological crystallization that remains to this day.

And the Eternal Herald is not the only ship attacking Ran Dan's master consciousness. Hundreds of human warships loomed in the silvery shadow, and the decks and subspace keels of the swords were pointed directly at the first enemy that had brought them here - even though their size was compared to the huge master consciousness, they were only almost small. Invisible dust particles.

Resurrection angels with silver radiance flowing all over their bodies surrounded their former battleships, circling, wandering, and guarding, ensuring the normal firing of the turrets and towers in silence. The beams of pure will burned in the void in the middle of the sky. Clear and half-ambiguous, like a needle pricking.

From the rapid expansion of high-temperature and high-pressure gas, the accurate calculation and control to ensure that the cannonball hits the target, to the power of the auxiliary engine that propels the starship, and finally the burst of pus and flesh in the master's consciousness...

Finally, the dominant consciousness, which is millions of miles high, took out a bit of spirit from the alien creation and spiritual infusion of the real universe, and launched its uninterested counterattack against the phantom of the Second Legion fleet.

Most of the creatures swallowed by Ran Dan do not have the ability to enter the universe alone. Therefore, in the universe of consciousness, Leon once again saw Ran Dan's angel——

They are uglier and more primitive than their unique beauty in reality, as if life was forged and beaten freely in a furnace, and then cooled by the cold wind blowing through the world, and finally condensed into strange creatures, every corner and every tentacle , are not within the aesthetics that humans can understand.

As the aggressive extension of the Overmind, they launched their attack on the Second Legion.

"The original appearance of the Randan alien...is unknown," said Duncan, taking the helm for Leon El'Jonson.

The two chains never left the area around his palms, even though drops of blood were dripping down the cracks punctured by bone spurs.

"In the devouring of the spirit, even the dominant consciousness cannot be immune to the influence of any devoured memories. Every moment, it is twisting, approaching the latest devoured racial form, and growing new organs."

"If a race's will is strong enough, it can even obtain its own conservative place in the will under the control of the dominant consciousness."

He continued that a layer of transparent silver light shield flowed on the outside of the Glory Queen, forming a hexagonal grid.

"Like the Resurrectionist?" Leon asked.

Duncan shook his head and said nothing.

Leon didn't like questioning a person of the same camp who refused to answer. If it weren't for interrogation, his pride would make him resist it.

Through the screen and portholes, he could see the firelight flickering in space, and the edge of the world was the bloody corner of reality, with a faint hint of blood.

"Show me the real world," Leon said.

"where?"

"Around your glorious queen."

A new picture replaced the porthole of the conscious world. The empty shells of countless Space Marines after death were scattered on the Queen of Glory, which had been completely covered with bones and flesh. Continuous artillery fire was used to resist the newly born Randan aliens.

Duncan focused his attention on a fallen Iron Warrior on the hillside of bones. His gun and knife were taken away by his comrades in need, and they continued to fight in the place of the deceased.

"That commander, he reported your situation and the illusion of psychic confrontation to the Orbital Command."

"Horus Luperkar, Perturabo, Lorgar Aurelion will know all this." Leon commented. He and Horus didn't have a deep personal conflict. Even if they did, he understood the choice the other person would make in this situation.

"Tell me, Duncan, why didn't you call upon the Emperor a few years ago?"

"I called." Duncan replied, his face turned gloomy, as if he had some regret hidden in it, "Everything happened in an instant, my brother, when my astral language arrived on Terra, it was too late. Otherwise, it was too late. …”

"This is the reason why you were removed from the list." Leon suddenly realized, and directly told the conclusion he had reached. "The Emperor knows your fate."

"Leon..." The second original body turned his head and looked directly into the lion's face, his tone almost pleading.

The lion was unmoved, "Father will bring you relief."

Duncan's face was tense, but the Lion continued without a pause: "No matter what, the Overmind is our common enemy, you must fight it with me with all your strength."

The second Primarch silently looked away and recognized the words of the Lion.

A few minutes later, he raised his eyebrows slightly: "In the Hall of Oath, several of your warriors are talking to you."

The Lion looked at the center of the screen, and the warriors waiting for Lion El'Jonson were repeating the military order they had just received: "Control the Overmind, the Emperor is coming."

They said it for the first time - the first time that Lion El'Jonson heard it with his own ears, and then the second time.

"The Emperor is coming," they repeated, not knowing when they would be heard by the lion fighting in the void.

"The Emperor is coming," the third time, once, and then again, penetrating the void, crossing the curtain, until it reached the ears of the two Primarchs.

Leon suddenly woke up and snatched the sound array in the Queen of Glory, "Do your best to restrain the dominant consciousness, at any cost!"

Duncan seemed to take a breath and wanted to say something, but was barely controlled by him. He looked at the outside world uneasily, and finally spoke reluctantly: "Follow the orders of the First Primarch, boys."

Hooks were stabbed out from hundreds of human ships by silver angels, and the sharp hooks on the top pierced into the flesh and blood scales of the dominant consciousness.

A thin rope is insignificant to the Randan Overlord, but it is comparable to a thin hair and can be easily torn apart-even if hundreds of hooks are deployed together, it is not of much use.

But they overlap too quickly. The first round, followed by the second round, the resurrected angels sewed the void, weaving alternately, nailing the huge bloody creatures, stitch by stitch, into the specimen with the sky as the background.

Lion's green eyes surveyed the outside world. He saw the thread that had just been nailed on snap under the struggle of the Overlord. The silver angels kept dying under the attacks of various biological weapons. Every time an angel fell, Duncan's face flashed with pain.

More blood flowed from where he was bound by the bone chain. Tick-tock.

"He will come." Lion said. Otherwise, all this desperate gamble will be in vain.

In the reflection of the light from the porthole, he saw the Oath Hall in the real universe. The Word Bearers were wearing blood-stained gray armor, and every hollow scripture character was filled with dried blood.

They formed a circle around the sleeping lion, chanting and singing, and tears flowed quietly in their helmets until the sound of the liquid dripping appeared softly for the first time.

Tears, gold and red tears, stuck to their steel visors and dripped from the eyes of the helmets. Tick-tock.

The smell of blood gently surged from around them, swirling silently, gradually becoming thicker and more obvious, like an originally distant echo, gradually approaching them.

Tick-tock.

A drop of blood spilled from the gap between the buttons of the control console in front of them, and then more golden red blood flowed out from all the metal gaps between the buttons, keyboards and servo machines, gradually increasing in speed, soaking the cold floor of the Eternal Herald, and constantly accumulating until it gradually formed a pool of blood reflecting the brilliance.

It was warm, just like flowing out of the body of a living person, warmly wrapping the soles of the Primarch's boots. Then it was the ankle, and it stopped rising at this height.

Even if the blood was still flowing.

Outside the void, within reality, the mountain of bones covering the Queen of Glory was bleeding, and the blood and water accumulated in this huge and still alive flesh and blood structure over the years were squeezed out at this moment and flowed out, washing the ground covered with charred craters and dirty slime.

Wherever they went, there was no holiness, no purity, only the blood of the Second Legion. Once given by the Lord of Mankind, and now used by the King of All Ages, it was like holy oil carrying golden flames, gradually igniting a blood-red fire.

Crackling.

The aliens were destroyed in the blood and fire. They screamed anxiously, hissed and roared wildly, their ganglia were burned one by one, turned into bubbles that burst in the blood and fire, and were ruthlessly destroyed.

"The Emperor is coming..." the Word Bearers sang.

"The Emperor is coming..." Duncan repeated, with an indescribable emptiness in his expression. "Yes, he is coming... He is coming. He has already come."

It was not until this moment that the Overmind Consciousness really began its frantic struggle. All the restraints were broken in the blink of an eye. The wailing of countless silver angels knocked their Primarchs to the ground in an instant, and they immediately knelt down in the blood pool with exhaustion, screaming in pain.

The spiritual connection within the Resurrected is so close.

This huge consciousness (Overmind), which has been alive for who knows how many years, is enough to break all the tiny chains that humans have tried to impose on it with just one decisive turn.

Its swollen and deformed body groaned and turned, and the evil tattoos composed of countless blood vessels grinned and opened its huge mouth, throbbing with blood. The smelly air gushed out from the tens of thousands of exhaust ports on its body, taking it to deflect and prepare to escape into the endless darkness again, back to the deep well-like nest that nurtured it...

However, it was too late. The previous successful delay had already attracted attention.

"He is coming." The Word Bearers raised their heads and looked up at the sky above them. "He is coming."

Kara.

It was a bright spot. Bone white. Hot. Gently pierced a small hole in the outer shell of the dark world.

It was a short dagger, cutting directly through the fragile surface of the spiritual world, cracks like fine spider webs, and golden light seeps out from the cracks, like golden mist and rain.

It was a spear. It came in an instant, dazzling, carrying supreme majesty and power, suddenly piercing into the scales of the dominant consciousness, hitting the center of its huge body.

It was locked, penetrated, reacted too late, and left too late.

The dominant consciousness wailed. Its pain echoed in the spiritual world, as if the entire universe was twisted and collapsed, and traced back to the origin of the collapse.

The purple squirming muscles opened up, and countless new aliens poured out from every open hole in its purple body, rushing towards the golden gap in the sky, trying in vain to fill the ray of golden light leaking out of the sky with dirty and mixed flesh and blood...

Then it turned to ashes.

"He is coming..." The Word Bearer sang almost peacefully, "He is coming..."

Then, there was a dragon-shaped shadow, like an animal but not an animal, like a human but not a human, with claws like sickles and a long tail sweeping across. It appeared in front of everyone in an infinitely changing form that hindered observation like a pixel spot, as if it was an uncertain quantum in the cracks, hiding infinite eternal power...

On that shadow, a golden light spot stood on its back. He was so small, so light as dust, so insignificant...

So magnificent and infinite.

It was like bright copper being forged in a furnace. It was like the sound of many waters. It was like the sun shining.

There was fire, smoke, and sulfur. There were lightning, earthquakes, hail, and thunder.

The black world opened to absolute light, and the roar of the dragon in the long dream shook the universe. The great brilliance overturned the world, turning it upside down...

The bloody screams, the angry curses, the screams of thousands of creatures after death...the flowing mucus, the smell of corruption, the proliferation of cysts and bones, the transparent colloid...

No, we have survived for so long! We are billions of lives, the will of the dominant galaxy, the great existence wandering in the shadows on the back of the universe! Every drop of blood we accumulate, every bone we gnaw...ah, there is still a battle to be fought...woe, woe, woe!

The dominant consciousness rises up in resistance, and everything happens outside of time, in the void, before sight.

Time and again, the battles that surpassed the observation limit of any living being, transcending the marginal line of the world's operation... The roaring dragon, the war cry of the warrior king's face, the surging alien waves, the sharp whistling of the blade tearing through the void...

The ugly, rebellious enemy dissolved in the torrent of great power, dissipated under the long cry of the dragon and the bright judgment of the Lord of Humanity, and their dark outlines remained briefly in the vision, so intermittent, as if they were phantoms that should not exist, easily and briefly passing in an instant...

Finally, it was a burning spear. Smeared with holy oil, cast in gold, majestic and anointed above.

It pierced it.

——

Perception found memory again, and matched the only correct one among countless combinations. Vision, hearing, smell... They returned to the fallen lion's heart one by one, like a rehearsal of a new life, awakening him from his coma.

He woke up slowly, and with a splitting headache, he immediately grabbed the long sword beside him and looked around.

Lion El'Jonson returned to the Oath Hall of the Eternal Herald.

Tick-tock.

A drop of blood fell along the bone chain hanging at the dim end of the hall and hit the blood pool on the ground.

"Cough..." The lion coughed, propped himself up, and staggered to the end of the hall until he stood under the towering sculpture.

"The Emperor is coming," Lion said.

Duncan was still there, hanging silently, his consciousness falling into a coma.

More than half of the dense bone-white chains wrapped around him had broken, hanging sparsely, gently colliding with each other.

"The Emperor is coming," Lion El'Jonson repeated emphatically, "Let's go out and meet the Emperor."

No response.

Lion snorted, raised his sword high, estimated the distance, and then broke a chain on the second Primarch.

Duncan instantly fell down a section, swaying slowly.

The fragility of these chains was far beyond the lion's imagination. With just a slight touch of the sword, the seemingly solid chains turned into powder and fell from the broken ends.

It was hard to imagine how a Primarch could be bound by such fragile constraints for more than ten years.

As the bone chain continued to break, Duncan's face showed a trace of pain. As the bone chain continued to break, the feet of the second Primarch finally touched the ground.

After another chop, he knelt suddenly in the pool of blood on the ground, and blood splashed all over his body and slid down from his black hair.

"I..." Duncan Aihe trembled, suddenly woke up, gasped violently, and was on the verge of over-breathing. He looked at the chain still wrapped around his arm in horror, and squeezed out a weak breath from his throat.

"Come out with me and meet the Emperor." Lion lowered his head and said coldly.

Duncan did not answer immediately. His face was pale, he had difficulty breathing, and he could hardly say a word.

The lion did not intend to waste time and swung his sword again.

Duncan immediately raised his arm and blocked his sword.

Lion frowned and put away his sword: "What are you doing?"

"I... can't leave." The second Primarch barely took a breath and said intermittently, "They rely on me to survive."

"What do you mean?"

"Once I leave here, my angel will die, Lion--"

"You are talking nonsense..."

"I told you, Lion! I know every word I said. I know I am still Duncan Aihe - but you didn't listen to me..."

Duncan looked up with a breath, staring at the Emperor's eldest son.

"Randan's dominant consciousness treats all Space Marines equally. The resurrected are no exception. My warriors alone cannot gain independent consciousness and a reserved place to live under the control of Randan..."

The second Primarch took a deep breath, looked at the chains painfully, and then said: "But with me, it's enough."

He turned his arm and opened his palm, which was white due to the force, revealing his palm full of blood from the bone chain.

Without the Primarch's tight grip, the end of the chain slipped lightly from his palm.

Duncan Aihe has never been restrained by bone chains.

It was he who grabbed the chain connecting the heir with his own hands.