Chapter 494 respectively
Official Calendar of the Empire, 002.M31.
“It’s not a bad place, what do you think, Amon?”
Azhak Ahriman said quietly, standing with Amon on the balcony in the Zenobia Hills area , overlooking the pearl-like Interrex Federation. Morning mist rolled over the trees, gently covering the green grass. Among the silent shrubs, fragrant pale yellow wildflowers bloomed at the base of delightful dark green tassels. Birds like wild geese passed through the sky.
“It is peaceful here,” Amon replied. “I haven’t tasted the breath of war for a long time, but we will definitely bring the war here, Azak.”
"I know, and they know too. This is my choice and their judgment." Ahriman replied, his eyes wandering between the bright lights in the distance.
If this were Prospero, those bright lights should be the beacon lights that light up on the shore of the bay at night, leaving a hot afterglow in the day. The tower at the center of Zenobia would be a pyramid...if.
Unimaginable. Amon thought in his heart.
It was unimaginable to him that there would be a human federation that, after spending such a long period of darkness and terror in the old night, still retained a heart of trust and goodwill that was willing to accept hundreds of thousands of people. exiles and willing to help them rebuild their homes.
He could not imagine how powerful and crucial a force they would lose if Interex was not owned by the Empire, or if they did not become friendly with the Iron Warriors, but chose the other side. .
He could not imagine that there would be such a place that was independent from the erosion of subspace, but was so aware of the poison of Chaos that the other party immediately agreed to fight alongside them as soon as they mentioned the Lord of Darkness and the power of Chaos. ...If Magnus was still here, the Commander-in-Chief here would definitely have a good chat with their genetic father.
Behind them, Commander Naud of Interx came closer, and with him was the warsmith Ferros, whom Ahriman did not recognize.
Accompanying Naude was his translator and musician. As he approached, the faint music with sadness and sadness also approached, and the sound waves spread outward on the balcony, gradually fading away.
"I remember the visit of the Iron Warriors a year ago. Imperial friends..." Naude said that the Iron Warriors had confessed everything they could tell when they came into contact with Interex again. content.
“I didn’t expect that in just a short time, the tentacles of darkness would touch us. I feel sad for everything you have to go through - if you have any requests, please tell us directly. ”
Ahriman turned sideways and nodded slightly: "Right now, the Dark Throne doesn't know where we are going, but sooner or later they will catch up with us. I ask again, if you are unwilling to get involved in the war, the Thousand Sons will return after resting Depart."
After they arrived in this galaxy, Azak Ahriman changed their names to the Thousand Sons. No one objected - this was a dark age and they had no intention of calling themselves the Sun. They are the remnants of the Legion left in the world, a thousand crushed rubble, a thousand children of Magnus.
"Once the human race is overturned, it will be overturned forever. We are willing to ally with the human empire because we do not want to consider being alone." Naude shook his head, and his accompaniment became increasingly exciting, and soon Falling into the restraint of the undercurrent again, he stretched out his hand to Ahriman: "What's more, even without you, your pursuers will come to your door one day - I'm sorry about this, but the old enemy Blade is It comes from our country."
He lamented sincerely, his ears drooping in guilt, "It was the empire that took away the disaster for us, but we never reciprocated in the eyes of the empire. If there is a fault, then this war is inevitable... I even want to thank you for trusting us at this moment, Space Marines, so you don't need to leave."
Ahriman's hand passed from the railing. Looking away, the warlock's eyes completely moved away from the sight of Zenobia. He did not take the commander's hand.
"At least some of the Thousand Sons will leave." He said, even though he was just looking straight at Naude, there was still a burning light in his eyes, shining like azure stars high above. "Our mission is not over yet. We are bound to enter the galaxy again. Our destiny is not between preservation and defense, but between pursuit and exploration. We will become..."
He paused for a moment and then said: "Prodigal son."
Amon's eyes opened slightly wider: "You..."
"Our father's heart (Ib) ' and 'Ba' - in ordinary people's terms, that is the soul, which must still be exiled in the depths of the world. As long as it has existed, as long as we still remember it, it means that we still have his name (Rn). )', it means that he will continue to exist...but has never been found."
Ahriman said, choosing his words calmly, his pair of hearts beating steadily, Recalling the secret method recorded in the Book of Magnus. There were many changes that needed to be made, but he had seen the prototype of a great ritual, only this time no one would be around to guide him.
"What Star Cross Road has taken away from human beings is not only death, but also our 'ka' - the essence of human life and death. One day, I will return it to the person from whom it was taken... Even this is not enough Resurrecting anyone is not enough to reverse the fate of life and death. "
"So, will you succeed?" Naude couldn't help but ask.
Ahriman lowered his eyes: "I don't know."
——
"You are back." Orr said, watching the Iron Warriors' Primarch emerge from Walking out from behind the Gate of Moro, it was impossible to tell what Perturabo had done in the past time. His existing memories didn't seem to be shaken at all...but he was indeed the one who knew very little about everything, ever since he said goodbye to Neos after Moro.
He raised his hand, took off his cross from his chest, and took a deep breath. Some old and restrained emotions in his heart were blurring into an indiscernible afterimage... and a wave of expectation arose from it.
"Did you save him?" Orr asked urgently.
Perturabo did not answer immediately. His eyes swept from top to bottom sternly. When he touched Orr's eyes, he paused for a moment and turned away.
For a moment, Orr tasted the smell of copper rust from the tip of his tongue. This was not due to fear of the original body... No, he just felt it from Perturabo's solemn attitude. To what. A pain hit him as if it were an old pain deep in his soul.
Soon after, the black-robed craftsman also returned from the Gate of Moro. His existence seems to have faded, and the ends of his unruly hair have turned into nothingness. The traces he left on this world are thin and swaying, and may break away from the physical state at any time and turn into a few drops of rain. He nodded slightly towards the silence present, not caring about the heavy silence, and announced with almost a smile: "No."
Orr breathed out with difficulty: "Why?"
Although he asked this question, he already knew part of the answer. This is the answer from his interpretation of Nios in the past: This is their choice.
“Abandon the current plan, even if the human empire continues, we will still have to face the coercion of Chaos.” Perturabo said sternly, “Therefore, we will not give in and let everything return to the way it was before. "We will not exchange the possible resurrection of a few people for the Tutmons Circle of the Webway and the glorious crossroads of Vigberach."
"We will continue along this road." , Orr, as for just now, we just went back and added the time segments that should be filled in," Morse said briskly and calmly, "Getting fire, the Tower of Babel, a battle, Moro, the beginning of the empire... …Also, it’s a pity that you were not mentioned in Nios’s suicide note. At least in this regard, I should remind him... Since it is a suicide note, it should not be written like a secret letter. What do you think, Constantine? ?" Constantin Waldo's eyes fell firmly on Morse in response to his rude words. After a full two or three seconds, his hand holding the spear tightly touched the Sun Spear and turned it slightly.
"You haven't changed anything," he said. "You have not deviated from the current path."
John Grammaticus, who was standing in the corner against the wall, shrugged regretfully, moved his lips, and may have been mumbling something to himself. Helpless foul language.
Perturabo observed Valdor's face: "Exactly so. Now, tell us why the Emperor created you, Constantine Valdor."
This It was the promise made by the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard before they entered the Gate of Moroch.
Under his gaze, Constantine seemed to make a deep, rolling sound in his throat. After a moment, Perturabo realized that it was a bionic laugh.
The head of the Forbidden Army said clearly: "To kill the inhumane, to kill the false emperor."
The eyes of several people were locked on Constantine Waldo, and some were out of shock. Such a word could actually come from the mouth of the dignified commander of the Imperial Guard; some people were disappointed and expected, knowing that Neos would not leave out the plan without leaving a second layer of preparation.
"You...can do it?" Morse pursed his lips and looked at Constantine Waldo, who had essentially changed. This time, he saw some different traces, a deep Golden energy, like fire burning on oil-splashed fabric, surrounded the reflection of his existence in the highest sky, and phantom-like pictures intertwined and formed around him...
... Luger struck Baelor in the eye with his slingshot, ending the mighty giant...
...Belrofin rode Pegasus on the flying horse and stabbed the Chimera with his spear...
...Vidal stabbed the giant wolf Fenrir in the heart with his sword and avenged his father...
The echo of killing something beyond human beings hovered around Waldo, weaving and structuring His presence. His essence was derived from this, plucked from the fragments of time by the Emperor and forged into his present form. Yes, Morse thought, yes, when the Emperor was vague about his true plans, he had named Constantine Valdor alongside the Primarchs and him. …Does he know the mission he has been given from beginning to end?
"Perturabo, Remus," said Constantine, "at the moment when the Thunder Warriors were created, I witnessed that our Lord had placed his trust in them, believing that their danger would be met with relief. Control. Usotan and his warriors proved me wrong, and then I witnessed the birth of the Astartes. I continued to remain silent, trusting my Lord's decision - and to this day, I finally confirm that you are being born. Hidden mistakes, superfluous emotions ultimately led to the birth of the Dark Throne."
Is he gnashing his teeth and treating those before him with an angry attitude, like the general hostility of the entire Custodes against the Astartes. ? Besides, they had just chosen the Emperor's death in history?
No, not really. There was only a kind of quiet reflection in him.
"However, at the same time, I must finally affirm the necessity of your existence, because the human empire is as solid as a rock, and only equal power can overthrow it. Only you can destroy the world controlled by the Dark Throne, and your compatriots Confront each other on both sides of the fortress, kill the legions and primarchs who are equal to you, sacrifice for the completion of the Silent Realm circle, and die for the rebirth of my lord."
Perturabo slowly. Said: "We are the only ones worthy of setting the galaxy on fire."
Constantine Valdor nodded: "This is your duty, Warmaster."
Perturabo closed his eyes. .
“John, Eulanius,” Constantine said the names of two people one after another, “Of all the current situations, the Crossroads of Radiance is the only exception that is not in our Lord’s plan. Therefore, I I need you to take me there, and I will witness my Lord’s current decision with my own eyes, and then fulfill my duty. In addition, I have two things to look for.”
"What?" John Grammaticus, who was suddenly called upon, perked up.
"First, my Lord's true name now." said the commander of the Forbidden Army. "I know the true name of the Golden Throne, but it may not be the Dark Throne."
"What else?"
"Second, a demon. A demon capable of murdering any human being. Together. An echo that could kill a human god. It must have existed beyond the veil of the world when the first murder occurred."
"This is how the warp works," Morse nodded. .
Perturabo stood there and opened his eyes again. He raised a hand, as if there was something solid and indestructible in his palm. Suddenly, he clenched his palms into fists.
“Consider where we will build our base, consider which legions will accompany us, consider how we will gather our forces, consider how we can strike first before everything is clear, consider who our mortal enemies will be, Who will pay the silver coins for the Emperor's rebirth?"
His words were calm and gloomy, with suppressed anger etched on his stone face: "Consider how we will destroy everything we have built with our own hands, To pursue the path we really must pursue."
"Then we will part ways," said Constantin Waldo, looking toward the Gate of Moro, "will you follow my path? John, Eulanius?"
"Of course." Orr sighed, "I still..."
He swallowed the rest of his words. He still remembered that the Alpha Legion took him away because Neos wanted to see him one last time. Then, he will always keep the appointment.
"Do I have a choice?" John muttered, "Okay, okay. I think you still need me to open the webway door."
He raised his hand, some The psychic spell was taking shape, and the super-material fluorescence began to rise. Suddenly, he was stopped by Morse.
"Wait a minute, John." Morse said. "I have something I need to give you, Orr."
(End of Chapter)