Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

After the red boy fell into Prospero like a meteor, he had not dreamed of the burning earth for a long time. 6̾̾

The phantom of Lone Moon was dyed scarlet at the end of the long firelight. The gorgeous square made of pitch-black glass was destroyed and shattered into thousands of unpredictable rotating fragments under the golden-handled ax wrapped in blue lightning. The silent people cast cold glares. , brown-black oil and fire floated from the green pool next to the once lush trees and shade.

The Pyramid of Fotep and the great library, which condensed countless crystallizations of knowledge and wisdom, turned into dust amidst the manic howls of wolves. The savage wolves tore at the fragments of civilization, and the burning sections of papyrus rolled in the suffocating smoke.

Under the sky, everything is dust.

A black snake was coiled on the top of a dead branch that was brittle from the fire, smiling ferociously at him. Its scales were tens of millions of ever-changing pitch-black eyes.

When the dead branches broke, a pair of extremely colorful and gorgeous wings grew from thousands of eyes. The azure luster dyed the remaining light of its movements, carrying the giant snake and gliding from the high tree. The bird's claws on the snake pressed against his His shoulders threw him into the destroying earth.

Its hissing caused endless confusion, and the infinite changes tortured every nerve in his body that was screaming.

After a moment, the giant snake's form changed again, and he saw a monster wearing black robes, fluffy hair, and a pale face, with an eternal mocking smile on his mouth.

The next moment, this human-like and inhuman image once again turned into smoke and dispersed...

He woke up from his dream, and the cool shadow of the fig tree and the water vapor of the pond still peacefully dissipated the noon heat wave for him.

In the distance, the pyramid is still bathed in the clear sky, with no signs of destruction, as if this tranquility will last forever.

"What's the matter, Amon?" the young voice came curiously, and the energetic tone contained infinite curiosity.

Amon turned his head, and saw the red young giant sitting in the shade of a tree holding a volume of books. His copper hair was as lush and fluffy as flames, and as soft as the most gentle vermilion grass.

"Another dream about destruction. I have had it many times." Amon explained gently to the young giant.

After the crimson child arrived in Tizca, he witnessed how he completed the transformation from student to mentor in just one year. He was a genius that Prospero had never had.

The red son's figure is also growing day by day, as if only a few days and months have passed before he has grown into a big child about four meters tall - his heart is still pure and flawless, and he is searching for the beauty all day long. Walking on the road with curiosity like a child.

"Is there any difference in this dream?" Magnus shook the hand holding the scroll, and the wheat-colored linen softly stirred up microwaves as he moved.

"Still the same old thing." Amon said, but he remembered the man in black robe who appeared at the end. His heart, gripped by the pain of witnessing destruction, gradually became alarmed.

Is that the person associated with this dream of destruction of all things?

Or maybe it was the man in black robe who burned all the sand?

When this thought arose in his mind, he seemed to hear a sharp bird call, like water droplets brushing against the gravel, silk curling over gold and iron, and it swept away elusively.

——

The fog there has become thicker in recent days, and the waves of the vast ocean are endless, surging around the psychic planet that is particularly conspicuous in the subspace.

Countless ripples intersect continuously, and in the dazzling network of changes, the sound of cascading rustling gradually sounds, coming and going in a moment, and no moment of everything is the same as the last moment.

Mors paused outside Prospero, suspended quietly in the vast ocean.

Something was waiting for him.

He confirmed this with crystal clear clarity.

Morse suddenly wanted to laugh out loud, because he had pissed off every one of them in Olympia.

He observed the direction of energy around Prospero, calmed down, and once again checked his own various status indicators, as well as the condition of the young Perturabo's body he was carrying.

After making sure he was ready, he penetrated Prospero's atmosphere.

After emerging from the subspace, Morse briefly scanned the surface of the entire planet, observing the clothing and customs of the residents here.

Compared to Olympia, the people of Prospero live a more peaceful life. A relatively small number of humans live in a few unabandoned cities, holding books and enjoying the time living together with blue lotuses and date palms under the glorious white marble and golden spiers reaching the ceiling.

If he had to use a convenient metaphor to describe Prospero, Morse would say that this would be the paradise after death that the ancient Egyptians dreamed of.

The fluctuations of psychic energy are almost everywhere. After a little induction, Morse confirmed that the descendants of psykers who escaped from the old night were the main residents of this small and peaceful planet like a garden.

After surviving some unknown disaster, people settled down in the remaining city and did not care about what happened among the stars.

Morse switched to another system of theory, and a spell shined through the black linen.

He bypassed countless fragile minds soaked in psychic energy, and after a short large-scale search, he easily identified a particularly bright red soul that seemed to be composed of jumping active fire and flying dust.

In that very short moment, the red soul turned to him.

Magnus saw him. That's fine.

Morse settled in an abandoned and deserted city near Tizca, Prospero's most glorious city.

Randomly choosing an empty house whose walls and roof had not been destroyed by the wind and sand, he created a new body for himself in imitation of the locals' clothing - a slightly modified black robe with gold edges, a hood and scarf to block the wind and sand, and his face.

He had no interest in drawing peacock blue shadows around his eyes, nor did he want to wear fancy gold and silver headdresses, so the final product was almost the same as his previous set of commonly used templates.

After a slight hesitation, Morse released the simulated body of young Perturabo from the void.

There was almost no time difference between the entanglement between the body and the corresponding soul and Morse releasing him.

It was obvious that Perturabo was not doing his own work seriously at all. From morning to night, he was thinking about connecting with this body.

Morse mobilized the spell to pull part of Perturabo's consciousness over.

It must be said that compared with the three-meter-tall one, this child who was one-third shorter than him looked more pleasing to the eye.

"Is this Prospero?" Perturabo got up from the ground, patted his clothes neatly, and adjusted to the unfamiliar perspective.

He saw Morse and raised his eyebrows: "Did you change clothes?"

"Anyone who is not blind can see it." Morse said, "We will go to Tizca to see your brother later. If you want to change clothes, I can buy them for you."

"No need. I just found that the clothes and limbs of my body are not connected."

"Because I made an extra model for you. Let's go and see how much the tailors in this city charge."

I will write it after cutting it. Now the timeline is early, so there is no rush; anyway, my RBA is sunk, so Lao K will not be able to ship it.