Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 463 The Scarlet King (Part 1)

Rogal Dorn stood on the wall between the mountain passes, looking down at the thick and high walls below that had been damaged by wars for generations. Concrete and steel were interlocked, and buried in the rock wall by time, and merged into the mountains themselves, along with the remains, armor, long arrows and smiling heads of all those who died in front of the wall.

In a sense, this wall is more indestructible than when it was independent of the mountain in the past, although the part of the wall has been shattered under the torrent of history and war.

"The traces of the Word Bearers disappeared one sector away from the Solar Sector, my lord. They do not accept communication requests, and they have already penetrated deep into the warp channel." Akamus reported and walked up the remaining steps of the wall.

The mountain wind suddenly whistled, passing through the forest, crossing the canyon, and rustling along the ridge. Rogal Dorn frowned slightly in the strong wind, and his voice was still clear.

"We have nowhere to chase them." Rogal Dorn nodded, "I need an answer from Terra."

"Still no response. The astropaths reported that Terra's soul sea is in chaos and touching it will kill you. In the last round of attempts, three astropaths died. The navigator also said that it is impossible to go to Terra at this time."

Akamus answered concisely. He knew that the three astropaths had taken the form of smashing their heads, strangling another companion, and being torn into pieces in the psychic explosion in extreme fear, but all this was of no help to the situation and there was no need to introduce it.

Dorn glanced at Akamus, "Then we can't take command of the Solar Segment Defense System. At the same time, we have no way of knowing the location of the Word Bearers, and the Iron Warriors or the Thousand Dust Suns can't provide further help. Perturabo and Magnus are out of contact. In addition, the World Eaters are far away in Nuceria."

Akamus heard the parts of his combat prosthesis creaking in the biting wind.

"That's right, my lord."

Dorn turned his head slightly, his thoughts were silent, hidden behind an invisible solid wall, and could not be detected.

"Go to the nearest large open webway entrance," Rogal Dorn ordered, and a cold light like lightning slid across his golden armor as he moved. "We need to evacuate the Iron Warriors troops still inside the webway and use it to reach the throne world directly. I give you ten hours to reorganize the army and plan the route. After that, I need the mountain formation to set sail."

Akamus swallowed the troubles that the webway map was still kept in the Terra Palace, and the irregular blockage of the warp channel of the Jeremiah Fragment Belt, and knelt on one knee: "Yes, my lord. For the human empire."

In the strong wind, Dorn's voice came from far away, like the echo of the rolling rocks themselves.

"For the human empire." Dorn answered him, "we should do our best and invite death (in death we tryst)."

He paused for a moment, and then gave a new, unrelated request that Akamus did not expect. "Also, contact the Alpha Legion. I need to confirm their movements."

——

The mist spread into the depths of the passage, like liquid amber half-solidified on white silk, flowing slowly under Magnus' feet. The temporary door lost its light behind him, turning into a slightly warm light golden stone, falling to the ground and breaking.

He returned to the Webway again without taking any Astartes with him.

Even Azak Ahriman's understanding of this mysterious passage throughout the galaxy was far from enough for him to help his gene father here. Maybe this is not pleasant, but they will be a burden rather than a helper.

So Magnus stepped into the Webway alone, holding the Emperor Tarot he needed for divination.

The Pilgrim card was hot in his hand, and half of the card surface was soaked in black ink. The remaining cards did not change much: the High Priest flickered, the cracks on the Lightning Tower made Magnus worried, the Knight of Mission was as solid as a rock, and the Jackal card that once belonged to Perturabo had turned into dust, representing a complete loss.

He took a deep breath and let the Emperor card float in front of him, guiding the way to the throne world.

The Webway is not empty, but today, the environment inside the Webway is particularly strange and changeable.

In addition to the various node cities, secondary realms and abnormal spaces attached to it, a kind of chaotic atmosphere between life and death, moment and eternity came to the face, and the phosphorescence that should not exist stood out against the particularly dim background of today.

When Magnus noticed them, a poisonous and malignant luster began to leak around him, rising and falling like a tide, rich in some kind of eager ghost-like will, climbing up his calf, as if wanting to seize a part of him as a usable food.

The smell of burning rocks and obsidian sand was quietly becoming stronger, and some kind of malicious thoughts were lodged in it, but this did not give Magnus the sense of life - all the warp demons he had seen were more alive than this existence.

Here, between the trance layer outside of time and space and the dreamlike cosmic cracks, there were no humans, no aliens, not even insignificant mosses, insects and microorganisms... Only scorched earth and death, and the great horror that death itself brought to life.

He weaved an exquisite red-gold checkered shield around his body, trying to block this aura from the rotating red-gold ball cage as much as possible. This is almost exactly the same as the way to block the energy of the subspace, and it is this similarity that makes Magnus's thoughts confused - this kind of power of darkness and destruction should not penetrate through the outer wall to the inside.

Even if it was coming straight at him from within the Webway, that meant the situation was still under the Emperor's control.

He continued on, adding more incantations under his breath. The black mist gradually twisted into threads, staining his robe and red hair. His empty eye sockets began to bleed again, and pain penetrated into his brain along black threads. His feet kept getting stuck, making it almost impossible for him to move even an inch. Every step was a huge test of his spiritual power and physical strength...

Suddenly, the Emperor Card that was floating in front of him and leading the way was suddenly burned up in the black flames. Everything happened in a gap shorter than a heartbeat, but the impact of the heavy blow that followed was like a hammer to the head. More long-term.

Magnus felt dizzy, and all the directions he knew were confused in a short time. He staggered a few steps and looked ahead again.

The situation in the Network Channel seems to have changed. Countless channels seem to have randomly reconnected. The darkness has become thicker. The light spots are identified as the faint phosphorus fire floating on the upper level of the tomb. Some kind of whispers and neighing can be vaguely heard, lingering. At the edge of the range of perception…

Magnus took a breath and stroked the heavy tome hanging on his waist. He resisted the external panic and struggled to open a part of his consciousness to the darkness in front of him, hoping to re-perceive the direction of Terra.

After countless calculations, the Crimson King came up with only one law from the vast sea of ​​calculation results.

No matter what kind of dark force, or the cruel wheel of fate itself wants to run over the human race, no matter who is the entity standing in their way, and where their real disaster lies, there is only one person who is at the center of all unknown storms.

Emperor.

Only the Emperor knows the full extent of the struggle that lurks within the dark side of the universe, and only the Emperor is powerful enough to keep the threat of Chaos at bay beyond the borders of the Imperium of Man.

The power of the Emperor determines his absolute status.

Therefore, what they need to listen to is still the emperor's words in the end, and what they need to protect is only the emperor's safety. Just like the king on a chessboard - if you lose the Emperor, you lose everything.

So Magnus wanted to find the Emperor, meet him in person, and do everything he could for his father. This is the go-to answer for all mysteries.

Otherwise - besides this, Magnus thought, he remembered that there were still tens of thousands of Iron Warriors within the Webway who had not yet evacuated. Unlike the green-skinned orcs, they cannot truly become the cornerstone of the Webway. Their destination is in the steel of the real universe.

The dark road split before his eyes, splitting from one path into three, then five, seven... some extended forward, some eventually formed a loop, and all the forks in the road were constantly reorganized, covered by the darkness. Trembling and twisting restlessly.

Sometimes, some special obstacles blocked Magnus, such as the blocking and rejection of objects with high subspace content, or some suspicious traps, leading to those dark and endless tributaries, until he was lost in the depths of the Webway. Or fall straight into the cold depths of reality and be destroyed by the universe itself...

He even passed through Vigberach again - the end and end of time. Countless lost souls meet and coexist at this crossroads. From the past, present to the future, their projections are refracted on this incredible path. Eventually, until the projections themselves become their only existence, and continue to wander in disordered stagnation and chaos.

Magnus often stopped and patiently discerned where he was going, whether he was far or near the current time and space of Terra, and whether his next step would throw him one light-year or a hundred light-years away. Or step directly into the depths of the void...

It was then that Magnus regretted it: he should have calculated in advance the chaos within the Webway and warned his other brothers not to enter.

The situation in the webway was much worse than he expected. The timing fragments here were definitely not something that any of them could grasp. They might go through the same period of time a hundred times, or they might regard intermittent times as continuous. Reality.

At a certain point, the darkness seemed to thin out, and the borders of the Webway became transparent. Blazing blood red and gangrene-like rotting green light swirled and washed manically outside the boundary. The curtain revealed a sickly bright iridescent luster, while the nebula began to bloom with a weird blue color from the inside. Its existence itself can bring out the light. Come with an evil sting and a sickening feeling.

"Hmm..." Magnus muttered to himself, wiped the left side of his face, and squinted his eyes to avoid the dangerous energy seeping from the outside.

This is undoubtedly a weak point near the outer boundary of the Webway, where the vast ocean of warp is constantly lapping against the soap-bubble walls of the Webway. He had to change the road and walk back, groping for the direction again, until he sensed the brilliance of Tutmons Formation - that would be an excellent road sign.

"...Magnus?" A call came from near him, and Magnus had to look at the dangerous border protection layer again.

The figure squatting behind a shelter similar to a colonnade was gradually revealed, which made Magnus feel a deep surprise, as well as the worry and anxiety that followed.

"Why are you here!" Magnus shouted, "Alpharius or Omegan, you are... That's right, Omegan!"

He looked around, gritted his teeth and approached Omegan's position, observing his damaged silver-blue armor and blood-stained broken spear, as well as his haggard face caused by being trapped for days.

"Why are you here!" Magnus asked, "It's too dangerous here, you have to leave here... Well, I remember you do know the webway, you fell in once. Oh, it's terrible, this place is hundreds of times more dangerous than when you came here! Did you come in on your own initiative?"

Omegan waved the broken spear in his hand listlessly, and even his usual contemplation and caution were covered by fatigue, just like he had struggled in a swamp for a month and was as weak as a swamp.

"I was fighting," Omegan replied, "some runes were triggered, and then I fell here."

He took a breath, and a low choking sound came from his throat, as if this short sentence was enough to consume all his strength. "How long has it been outside? No... what year is it now, Magnus?"

"The first year of the thirty-first millennium," Magnus replied quickly, looking at Omegan worriedly, trying to judge his brother's physical condition from a distance. The invisible barrier behind Omegan seemed to become weaker, and the sick light pierced the structure of the barrier like long needles, making people ache all over.

And the Primarch, who was not as familiar with psychic energy as Magnus, was still squatting there weakly, enduring the discomfort, and looking at Magnus expectantly.

"Thank you, I didn't miss it for a long time," Omegan said, the chaotic energy activity attached to the slope of the protective layer behind him was still intensifying, and the claws of the Unliving occasionally cut through the barrier, leaving burning marks.

The cursed breath has already taken advantage of the opportunity to enter. Any slight movement may cause Omegan to fall into the void, and the primarch who strayed into this place seems to be unaware of this.

"Don't stay there, you have to come here," Magnus said, untying the ring decoration wrapped around his right hand, melting it into a long rope again, and throwing it to Omegan, "Come here and talk, Omegan."

Omegan took a deep breath, then reached out and grabbed a section of the long rope, "Help me too, Magnus."

Magnus slowly retracted the rope to help Omegan escape from the dangerous edge of the curtain. The gorgeous and disgusting colored lights scratched the wall unwillingly, devouring each other in mania and anger, and the flames chased the departing primarch.

When they were close enough, Magnus reached out and wanted to grab Omegan directly.

Omegan raised his head, and his broken spear stabbed upward from below, like a venomous snake suddenly drilling into Magnus' chest.

Then it fell.

The broken spear fell into the afterimage, and the poisonous blue-green light at the tip of the spear drew a bright but useless short line.

Magnus had stood to the side without knowing when, and the heavy book in his hand was carrying all the rage of the Crimson King, smashing towards Omegan's back.