Chapter 471 Voyage
"What did you see, Azak?" Hathor Maat stood next to Chief Black Crow, as if he was seeing this far-sighted man through Ahriman's eyes. A distant world as seen by a psychic master. "Past or future?"
Ahriman was interrupted from his gaze. He turned his head, his face darkened by exhaustion.
“The past is the unfinished preface, and the future is the dust-settled postscript,” he murmured, taking off the first rubbing of the “Sacred Code of Nicaea” from his waist, and what he read It was the inscription signed by Magnus on the title page. "As for now, I still cannot see the way back to Prospero, Hathor. Even the light of the star torch is dim."
"Neither can you see the way," Hathor answer.
"I'm trying. We have to meet up with the other half of our army, or find out more answers. I think this is the moment." Ahriman whispered, making a gesture, and the clear glass in front of him filled the air. A smooth dark red shadow appears on the glass, and the vast shadow outlines a tangible manifestation similar to magnetic current on the glass.
"For the Black Crow's original vision. The shattered vision." Hathor said, there was something deep in his voice, as weak as the muffled whimpering of the grass blades on the ground before a rainstorm, which touched my heart. The heart of Ahriman.
For a moment, the searing pain that penetrated the soul like a dazzling white light came back. Half of it was the impression brought by the new snow on Terra in his childhood - the industrial waste settled in the air, and half of it was ordinary The sparkling sea of Los Pero. These two lights left a deep memory in him. They briefly disappeared in the terrifying moment when darkness fell, and then quickly returned, supporting his head with his chin raised.
"Yes, there must be a road here that allows us to return to Prospero, or use Terra as a transit..."
Hasol Marter looked at him for a while , until the universe outside the glass completely dimmed again. Clear darkness, slow darkness, darkness with no way to move forward.
"Wish us luck, Azak." Liangyu's temple instructor said.
“May we be blessed,” Ahriman modified a word in Maat’s words, and when he uttered the word, he was thinking of something other than prayer.
After Maat left, Ahriman opened the manuscript of the Holy Scriptures and pressed his fingers on the spot where Magnus had written his signature. A cluster of fire in his soul ignited super-materially from his fingertips, breaking into tiny pieces. The sound of burning sounded at the back of the world.
The signature floats from the manuscript, like a vine of ink growing and extending, tracing its path into the void until a line of red fire burns out at the end. Ahriman stared closely at the direction of the fire and extinguished it the first moment it showed its direction.
Before leaving, his father refused his company and told him that he would go to Terra. The most obvious psychic traces he left behind during his lifetime were undoubtedly heading towards Terra.
He slightly crossed the line Magnus had drawn for them, expanding the output and use of his psychic powers. In this way, he finally saw the only fixed point that could be tracked, a door that could be pushed open.
Ahriman took a deep breath and drew a pattern on his fingertips. His voice instantly spread throughout the Glory Queen-class ship.
"The Primarch Amon is waiting in Prospero, and we cannot find a way to join him. But we cannot continue to wander in the darkness for long."
"Thousands of us are going to Terra first, Suns of Thousand Dusts. I saw the hidden road. It may be windy and rainy, and full of thorns, but we have a direction. There, we will seek the truth about our father. Everything, and ask for the Emperor's protection in this stormy season, and ask for a light to return to Prospero."
Ahriman paused, he felt an echoing warning, but there was none. Any source. Is this fear in his rationality, or sentimentality that transcends reason?
"I will personally navigate the Wan Zhang Ray," he said. "Even if the truth hurts, the way forward is slim."
The echo of his words gradually faded in the ship. Soon, he would go to the navigation hall to hold the rudder of the flagship. However, he still stood here, staring at the shadows outside the window during this last moment, as if holding on to some hope, hoping that someone would appear in front of him in the darkness.
"Then there is no other way," he whispered to himself, "this is the only option."
——
"The Emperor is here for us Guide the way forward," Asimander said, staring absently at the pool in front of him. The artificially projected moon phases rippled slightly in the water, sometimes brightening to an almost burning brightness, sometimes dimming like the halo outside a lumen lamp. The phases of the moon are also changing regularly, like companions moving forward with their entangled thoughts.
The navigator sent them news not long ago, saying that the Emperor's light was once again lingering around them after being blocked by months of violent darkness. Looking from the chaotic and unknown warp, the light of the Star Torch was still dim. It's hard to tell, but a new, separate dark light is touching their hearts, pointing out a clear path with fragments of restlessness and injury.
Their answers cannot dispel the heaviness in the hearts of the Luna Wolves, let alone considering the mission they are about to perform...
"What exactly did Primarch Magnus do?" Luo Ken couldn't help but ask.
He had just gone through the ceremony where the Shadow Moon Council invited him to join, and was currently surrounding the Yingyue Pool with four other warriors. Here he felt a tight entanglement of interconnectedness, as if the five of them were connected in series by the same thread, making the preparation they needed to face the future—or as ready as they could.
"Oh, I don't know," Togaton said, the breath from his mouth reflecting a layer of white mist on the cooler lake surface, "I don't know, Gavir. I would rather believe... …Is there any misunderstanding?”
He said the second half of the sentence calmly, and the others were not surprised. They looked at each other, and then sat down along the lake. Loken caught the faint flash of exchange in their eyes, and also sat next to Sejanus.
"We all have our own opinions," Sejanus said, looking sideways at him, "Father looked at our different qualities when he picked us."
Loken Realize that this is a call for his opinion.
"You can say what you have to say," Abaddon stretched his head forward and looked at Loken. "You will not be noisier than Togaton."
"I—— He gathered his thoughts, "I think we need to fulfill the Emperor's decision, as warriors under the Emperor's command, just as the First Legion and the Sixth Legion did for the Emperor."
"Go on." Sejanus nodded to him.
“However, we may be able to grant some grace that does not violate the rules,” he continued, nodding to himself in his mind, “We will find a way to talk to the Fifteenth Legion, and then, if this There is indeed room for reversal. If the Fifteenth Legion is willing to repent of their mistakes, and if they show no signs of rebellion - we will also report all this to Terra."
The wolves looked at each other in silence at the lake. The edges spread and deepen. "This means that we will control the distance at the edge of the Emperor's order," Arcimand said softly. "If we are not careful, we also run the risk of being involved in possible rebellion. Out of sympathy, out of old friendship , we do not believe in the betrayal of the Thousand Dust Sun, however, what is the basis for our sympathy..."
"You think that we have lost the original body, so we must be more cautious; If we make a mistake, no one will be able to make up for our mistakes." Loken said, looking around, his eyes becoming firmer, "But we cannot change our original qualities just because we lost our father."
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"In my opinion, the possibility that the Star Language is mistaken is greater than the possibility that the Emperor asked us to kill Prospero. I support Loken's point of view. What if we believe a lie? Yes. , we have to ask the Emperor again—where are the Astropaths?”
“The Astropaths can only receive letters from the Emperor, and their power is not enough to actively break through the barrier of the subspace storm. I tell you. Over you," Sejanus said.
"Let Prospero do it himself?" said Abaddon.
"Oh, we should be there soon. And those friends or traitors are indeed psychic experts, I think-" Tarik Torgadun shrugged and responded cordially, but his words were ignored. The sudden sound of the siren interrupted, "What?"
Sejanus straightened up and looked ahead. His sound array buttons buzzed at his collar.
"We saw their flagship," he said. "The flagship of the Thousand Dust Sun, the Wan Zhang Ray."
For a moment, Loken's scalp stung slightly from the unexpected news. The news came very unexpectedly, and they had not yet discussed the decision.
What's more, they are in the subspace. The sea of souls where the environment may undergo a thousand changes in an instant is the place where Thousand Dust Sun is good at fighting. Could it be that the 15th Legion came just for them? Do they really have evil intentions and have intentions towards Terra?
Sejanus stood still for a few seconds like a sculpture. He is the one making decisions now, and a tiny mistake will cause irreversible consequences.
Where is Warmaster Perturabo... This is the moment when a commander above all armies waves his hand, but the darkness surging in the subspace makes everything... become blurred.
Crescent Sejanus exhaled and lowered his eyes. Under his gaze, the four of them stood up, waiting for the next instructions.
——
What shining words are woven out of those silver tracks? Like a tapestry embroidered in the darkness, faintly burning prophetic words?
Ahriman looked out the porthole at the patterns composed of firelight flowing like molten wax in the subspace, feeling dazed and confused. Which army is that?
He rises into the gap between meditation and reality, controlling the scale of perception. This is a simple little ritual. He carefully touches the waves outside the force field, and restores the fragments of time and emotion to each other without turning into a mass of flesh and blood that screams eternally in the subspace. Bit, re-find the intended byte in the opposite spiritual voice.
"For..." He located the first pattern, which was the initial flash, but the identity of the army passing them was still hidden in the mist.
They did not welcome the approach of the Sun of Thousand Dusts, Ahriman confirmed this through his emotional perception - but what kind of army could be bold enough to sail through the storm in darkness? Who can see more clearly than them at such a time? More distant? This is not the pride of the Fifteenth Legion.
"What..." The second byte melted in the dark storm at the moment it was formed, and then came the third, "What..."
The fragments were like being penetrated Like broken glassware, they turned into thousands of scattered sharp clouds, cutting the vortex on the back of the world, and also turned into the last wake left by the army in this encounter...
He pressed his dry tongue against his teeth, breaking away from the confines of semi-meditation, beads of sweat running against his skin.
+You saw it too. +The telepathy of Sky Owl Balak came, and the emotions that followed were accompanied by deep confusion, +Why. Who is that? What is ‘why’? +
Ahriman watched the broken fire fragments continue to fly out in all directions, and the used ammunition casings fell out of the Geller force field. He identified the metal fragments of the ammunition used by the Empire. It was an extremely bold attempt to do so in the subspace. All accidents may suddenly come... Why?
His expression became more solemn, until a ball of metal debris suddenly turned along a new dangerous ocean current and rushed towards the direction of the Wan Zhang Ray.
——
"We will re-share the authority of Tizca's defense tower with you, Iron Warriors," Amon said, placing one hand on the railing on the second floor outside the tower, The blank mask stared back at him. "Compared with when you assisted the Fifteenth Legion in building fortifications, we have added new psychic measures, as well as necessary maintenance and iteration."
Blue spiritual sparks crackled outside Tizca, converging into a vaguely visible protective network, and hidden muzzles were revealed on the pillars used for physical protection. Light and lightning were like invisible mist, coiling around the periphery of the city-state. Only at the right angle could one glimpse the flash of light.
There is an unknown danger lurking in the brilliance of Tizca - like a luxurious and thick armor, used to resist the fatal knife that fate may send at any time.
“We will accept it,” Frix shouted, “but the equipment we are bringing on this trip is not updated to the latest level and cannot ensure communication with your system now. Give us a while. "
"I express my gratitude for this," Amon replied, his gaze was intense and could be sensed through the mask.
“But—why?” asked Fricks.
"There are thirty thousand of you."
"We are just passers-by, we don't need to defend here. Maybe we will leave within a week."
"Nip it in the bud, War Blacksmith. "Amon said, "Danger may come at any time, and the best temple lecturers are not here - I have to think that they will not be able to return before the dark storm ends."
"Then we have to face it. What is the danger? What did you foresee? A subspace attack?" Frix asked, his impression of the Black Crow School focusing on two aspects: meditation and precognition.
“I believe it will be a surprise attack from the subspace,” nevertheless, Amon’s silence seemed a little longer. “Otherwise, except for the minions of darkness, who else has the power to destroy Prospero? ? Another legion?"
(End of this chapter)