Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 472 Dark Ocean Current

Until the edge of the glorious planet emerged in front of the porthole in the belly of the Vengeful Spirit, Gavir Loken was still recalling Sejanus' moment of anger in the strategy hall.

"They rejected our communication," Abaddon's eyes were lit up with barely restrained anger, "at a distance where we can even see each other! Can't even send a star message?"

Sejanus's hand was dripping with blood, and drops of blood and a little bit of flesh fell down his palm, smearing an empty pool of blood on the ground. Loken looked at him, as if he smelled the smell of burnt residue.

Beside them, the Astropathic Chorus lay broken in blood, their hearts shattered in their chests, their heads blooming into bloody flowers of bone core. The bloody smell spread suddenly in the hall.

Sejanus's request for peace was undoubtedly rejected by the Thousand Dust Sun flagship, otherwise they could not find any reason. At such a passing distance, the superior psykers of the Fifteenth Legion would Can't hear their voices...

Even causing these astropaths to die howling in dark terror.

"Fire," Crescent Sejanus said shortly, "but don't go too far. Let them see our attitude."

"Why are you holding back? We are here on the Emperor's orders—"

"That's enough, Abaddon." Sejanus yelled, "Always stay sensible and clear!"

"Is that the same as unpaid blood, Hastur?"

Togaton raised both hands: "Okay, brothers——"

"You don't want me to slap you on the shoulder with a hand full of blood," Sejanus said. "I have a measure in my heart. My brothers, the interruption of communication can still be explained. The decision of the Sun of Thousand Dusts Within the limits of what we should tolerate. But once they cross that line, once their treachery is proven, I will take twice as much from Prospero for the death of these astropaths."

He paused, "When we see Magnus, I will speak to him in the name of our father."

And now, Loken thought, following the Emperor's lead, Prospero had arrived before them.

The twilight line cuts into shining arcs on the surface of the planet in front of you. The clear water, sandy plains and forests are covered with bright sunlight, and everything seems to melt into the pure light. As for the lightless night side, the planet as black as satin is flowing with a gentle and gorgeous luster, and the decoration given to them by spiritual energy becomes more and more obvious.

A swirling circle of Iron Warriors features shone like a necklace of pearls on the outer edge of the equator, which was Prospero's skyport - now empty in the season of storms sweeping across the Warp, save for the red-painted warships of the Dusty Sun himself. This loop is also part of its sophisticated and formidable orbital air defense system.

He boarded the command bridge and passed by countless busy officers and servitors. The air was filled with the noise caused by the push of pull rods and various panel bearing buttons. The conversations of mortals in order to achieve work goals converged into vague waves. Those flows The console and control circuits with a metallic luster and a small amount of time wear create an illusion of darkness, even if every electric candle along the way shines against the shiny obsidian background.

"...Please answer," the voice crossed the noisy noise, like a thread, winding to avoid the obstruction of the air, and came to Loken's ears, "Fifteenth Legion, please answer us. I, ha Star Sejanus, in the name of Horus Luperkar, requested a dialogue with the Primarch Magnus to exchange the Emperor's judgment.

"The order we received is to punish you, but destroying a world is never our wish. If our genetic father was still here, he would also like to meet you sincerely. I believe you know what you have done better than we do. "

"The sentence has been handed down, but the Luna Wolf believes that the Emperor's mercy will give you a chance to defend yourself, an opportunity to make amends or clarify. Otherwise, what I say now will also become one of the evidences of your resistance to Terra's orders. Is this what Prospero wants? At least, it’s not what we want to see.”

Sejanus did not blink at all, with his hands on the console, and the servitor faithfully recorded his voice and saved the audio in the recorder.

Loken stepped forward, passed through countless projections floating in the air, and saw the image in front of Sejanus. Prospero was silent as usual, a bit of flowing starlight flickering on the orbital ring as the angle of the star changed.

"No answer?" Loken asked, noticing that the astrological communication was no longer being transmitted here. The waves would span this short distance, and the Warp would no longer interfere with the transmission of sound—if only Prospero's air defense ports were willing to listen.

"Not yet," Sejanus said, humming slightly, his eyes contemplating. "If there is no misunderstanding, they really harmed the emperor's interests for some reason..."

"Alarming the enemy," said Horus Aceimander the Younger. "This means we are facing a battle-ready psionic legion, a legion with its Primarch. Cyjanus. Perhaps we are wrong. "

"Then continue to hold them off with words until Abaddon's troops are in position and we will launch a surprise attack. You will find that this is what I am already doing, Aceimander."

Saijanus said lowly.

"Hastur," Loken said suddenly.

Sejanus turned his head, then realized something, and his eyebrows relaxed slightly, but not completely.

The light in the airport began to flow, and Prospero's reply was sent to a screen. Sejanus read the message and contacted Ezekiel Abaddon on the communication channel.

"I will go to Tizca myself," he said, "with my legions on standby, Abaddon. Don't act rashly."

——

"...like it was yesterday," Perturabo said, watching Morse retrieve the green stone from his bookshelf that was kept in a small stasis field.

A monotonous and weak light shimmered on the surface of the green stone, like metal and mercury. The dangerous energy was still trapped inside the stone, and its power was still clearly visible after one hundred and fifty years.

"This is the last legacy of Herud's technology in the current era," Morse said. "It is also your sergeant..."

"Zoran Anderson."

"A gift from Sergeant Anderson to the Iron Warriors," the craftsman changed his words calmly, his eyes looking cold and cautious under the green light. In addition, golden lines covered his robes and even his cheeks, and the light of the star torch was so dim that he could hardly identify the location of the planet Moro. But the Iron Blood had to find its way, so he did.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Perturabo asked, keeping his voice calm. "What do you feel?"

Morse shook his head and kept looking at the stone. Slowly, his fingers pressed on the edge of the stasis box, hovering next to the generator that constructed the force field. Finally, he stopped, still thinking deeply, and sat down on a chair.

"I remember that in our battle book, you decided to use the interaction between the stasis field and the entropy field to inhibit the flow of Hrud's entropic energy. In most cases, your decision was accurate, except for that An accident." Morse said, "I think after getting this stone, you didn't find any other reasonable way to save it except using a stasis field."

"That's right, Morse."

"It accumulates energy in the stasis field. The energy about time...the power contained in it does not flow according to the normal time sequence, so there is accumulation. It is like the energy of every minute in a hundred and fifty years is stacked at the same time. In one moment, the power is being accumulated a hundred times...perhaps equivalent to fifteen thousand years, I think."

Perturabo frowned, "What's the harm?"

"Not until it breaks through the stasis field," Morse said, nodding slightly toward Perturabo, the golden light flowing on his face.

"When will the stasis field be broken through?"

"Not now anyway, but not for long. Seeing as we are about to arrive in Moro, I don't want the surprise to happen now. Give it to me, I need to reinforce the stasis field with the spell if you plan to keep it in your collection."

"Thanks for your help."

"Don't say thank you to me, Perturabo. Either as Warmaster, a title I fear will one day be used against you, or as Perturabo." Morse said, reaching out and giving him a squeeze. between the eyebrows.

Perturabo noticed a slight difference in the way he pressed, then realized it was because Morse had once again given up his simulated human senses. Perhaps this is a necessary condition to consume strength and search for the old places in the ancient memories in the world.

Suddenly, Morse turned his head and disappeared from Perturabo in an instant. The small stasis box rolled around on his seat.

Countless surveillance cameras in the Iron Blood ship immediately told Perturabo that Morse suddenly appeared next to the helmsman. The mortal captain almost hurriedly began to issue orders under the new order. The Queen of Glory turned downwards in a terrifying sudden turn. Dive away, avoiding some invisible obstruction, like a fish swimming through the swaying sea anemone.

The tough steel machinery and subspace keel trembled, screaming silently under the brutal control. Morse slapped his palm on the table, and the psychic power flowed into the entire ship against the metal structure like the lubricant of gears. The inside of the ship was coated with a second invisible film for Geller's stance.

A scream originating from the depths of the vast ocean was smashed into pieces by the front end of the Iron Blood. The ship trembled violently, and then subsided in an instant under the will of the craftsmen.

+What? +

+Darkness...+

Perturabo's skin tingled slightly in the dangerous environment, and a harsh warning sounded in the primarch's mind. He inspected the ship's modules, feeling distressed by the cracks and damage to part of the outer armor. He senses all the internal information on the ship, filters out the useful parts, and sends the latest auxiliary instructions to various relevant departments through neural links.

The images coming back from the scanners were immersed in dizzying absolute darkness, energy detection parameters stretching beyond the limits of the display, as if they were sailing through the eternal aftermath of a fusion bomb of death itself.

He immediately added a new order, and all the window panels and sensing equipment for imaging the outside world on the Iron Blood were closed. After a moment of thinking, the image in the captain's cabin was also closed.

Then, he picked out the crew members and even servitors who were in abnormal fear one by one, stared at them through the waves of data, and then issued the order to clear them. The mortal officers obeyed and raised their guns, while more servitors were ready to clear the deck.

+How much longer? +

+Maybe until we reach Moro,+Morse said, his voice steady again,+We are being blocked. I hope this means we are on the right path. +

The darkness in his perception was still trembling, like a ruthless eye about to open, echoing at the edge of the world with a dead call. Fragments of darkness collapsed, slid, and flickered in the darkness, and black embers swirled on the back of the lightless world, adding thickness and strength to the dark current.

Perturabo took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, he felt the illusory smell of blood between his lips and teeth. On this Iron Blood, the gunshots exploded into wet cracking sounds, and he clearly heard every death coming.

"Don't panic," he said to his crew and soldiers, thankful that they did not take more fleets that they could not take care of at the moment when they set out, "Don't be afraid. Keep your calm and confidence, which will support us through this shadow."

More pictures slid into his mind, and from the darkness he saw the bloodshed that happened again and again in human history, the blades piercing from the back, the leaders falling under the guns or artillery, the rotten amputated sections and the skeletons in the deep water... The pictures were mixed with blood, and the black smoke surged into bulging bubbles, waiting for the moment of explosion and spread...

No. He withdrew from the perception of the Iron Blood, left those dangerous data, and drove away the cruel roar on the edge of his mind. These scenes that had happened in the long history provoked the anger accumulated in his heart, tore his tense nerves, and made him want to scream loudly, venting the anger that had accumulated since the victory of Ullanor.

Then, he found that he did it.

He covered his cheeks with both hands and slowly sat back in his iron chair. Relying on the heat conduction ability of iron, he found a trace of coolness in his mind to stabilize his mind.

——

What made the fleet in the shadow question their whereabouts?

When the vague light of Terra's Astronomical Torch finally reappeared in front of Ahriman, he was still thinking about it, thinking about why the fleet rejected their message and sent that word that might be a warning. This touched his will, leaving an inexplicable uneasiness and warning there.

The Thousand-foot Light jumped out of the rolling vast ocean and floated up to the real universe, feeling the joy brought by the sudden reduction of pressure.

The obstacles along their journey were not bad. Except for the common ones such as a slight jam at the Betangamon Pass, the ocean currents and storms in the channel did not really hurt the lonely flagship. Now it is already the range of the Solar Segmental Region, and the next journey will be completed in reality-whether it is to facilitate the entry process approval or considering the instability of the subspace in recent days.

However, Ahriman then noticed some fine dust scattered in the asteroid ahead. Some of the fragments of different sizes were entangled with each other, and some were scattered behind the light of the stars, moving slowly, revealing elongated shadows.

There is one... or more ships destroyed here, becoming debris in the universe.

Ahriman became alert, exploring the marks and traces on those ships, trying to identify their source - why would a group of ships be destroyed in the solar sector? Who could do it in front of the Emperor?

Everything was very quiet, there was no distress signal, engine hum or more noise, these ships were dead, nothing was left.

The image gradually enlarged, and most of the paint and identifiable special structures no longer existed, as if the person who did it happily crushed these ships like a cookie, and let the coarser residues fall on the vast ground...

The pattern of flames... The combination of flames and books...

An answer that was hard to say whether it surprised Ahriman, but it did confuse the Chief of the Black Crows, appeared in his will.

The Word Bearer?