Chapter 55 On the Other Side of the River
Solar Star Field
Holy Terra Synchronous Orbit.
Phalanx
The distant sunlight passed over the ancient planet and gradually illuminated the window lattice and numerous tall pillars in the towering halls of the Phalanx's magnificent high-rise corridor. And projected long and narrow black shadows on the floor of the hall with many honors and heraldry patterns.
This miraculous flying fortress is really too big. With the current manpower of the Imperial Fist, it is essentially impossible to completely cover every area. Empty is the most common adjective for most unsealed areas.
The sound of the metal soles of the power armor stepping on the ancient marble floor sounded from far to near, causing low ripples in the hall.
“A hasty action based on just a few words will not be a wise choice for the Sons of Dorne.” Thor Galadon said to the warriors who came with him.
Two Space Marines were walking and talking in the hall. One had short white hair, and the other had his short hair shaved down to a strip in the middle of his head.
They are all tall, muscular warriors who have fought many battles, possessing both the beauty of exquisite genetic creations and an astonishing and unique momentum.
Both were wearing bright yellow power armor, the service spikes on their foreheads gleaming in the reflected sunlight, and clenched black fist marks and numerous medals of honor were displayed on their armors.
"Perhaps, but what all the seers, Librarians, and Astropaths on Terra and other Imperial realms have seen recently is a few words or phrases about the possible return of our great and honored Father. The omens are too obvious and numerous to be suppressed and ignored. You can't deny this, Galaton."
"I have also received many reports from different channels. This is indeed impossible. Deny the fact, Brother Lysander. "Garadon is not a stubborn person. It can even be said that Galaton, who has served as Lysander's deputy for a long time, is very aware of the other party's personality and style, and therefore is even more worried about what will happen next. matter.
“But there is a very clear omen.” Garraton said. They walked out of the hall and walked together along the several kilometers long corridor of honor.
On both sides of this extremely wide and towering corridor are lined the honors, battle commemorations, drawings, trophies and trophies that the Adeptus Astartes of the Imperial Fist Order have received over thousands or even ten thousand years. The statue of the great hero, this glorious historical memorial spectacle is now also empty, except for the occasional cleaning servitor passing by according to the set program or the servo skull and brass cherubim hurrying on their way.
"Gray steel." There was a calm fanatical hatred in Lysander's voice, the energy contained in it could almost burn the planet to ashes. "Appeared in most of the omens, the golden eagle lying in the steel cell (ROOM) or the fist. There is no doubt that you and I know what this combination represents."
"blasphemer! filth existence!" He spit out a few words from his mouth in a way that he chewed the words with his teeth, "Iron Warrior!"
"Yes" The helmets of the two company commanders were hung on their waists. Locked by the magnet, Galadon could see without surprise and worry what flashed across the faces of his comrades and filled Lysander: too strong memories, hatred and anger. "No matter what the final outcome of this matter is, it is obviously inseparable from those evil traitors."
He put his hand on Lysander's shoulder armor to make some kind of comforting movement, " Brother Lysander, if you insist on leading your brother monks in the direction pointed out by the omen, then let the Emperor and Dorne guide you, and do not let anger and hatred for the enemy cloud your vision and affect your actions. The commander's judgment. "
"That's natural, Galaton." The first company commander seemed to have regained his composure, "I will not give them another chance. All they can have is destruction. and death.”
——
On the other side of the Milky Way, in the far east.
The waterfall originates from the snow-capped mountains of Hera's Crown in the distance, and flows down from where it reaches on the ridge. The mist aroused and the clouds rising in the mountain forest blend indistinguishably from each other, forming a beautiful waterfall. A rainbow emerged from the pale clouds.
The dense alpine fir forest near the Hera Fortress is covered with a layer of golden moss green by the color of the morning sun. White marble, gilded, silver steel beam structures and crystal glass together form a huge number of Towers, corridors, ribbed domes and flying buttresses surround this fortress monastery of the Ultramarines, towering above the majestic mountains, overlooking dozens of kilometers of squares, cities and security facilities below, and beyond. Here, the azure sea surface of Lekham Bay sparkles in the sun with whitecaps.
It is not the time for pilgrimage yet, so there are not many pedestrians on the road up the mountain. The winding black winding road appears and disappears among the tall cedar trees. Since it was designed and supervised by the Primarch Robert Guilliman himself ten thousand years ago, this beautiful and magnificent fortress of wonders has been the place where every generation of Ultramarines has been recruited, trained, lived and set out.
The chief think tank of the Ultramarines, Varro Tigris, held his staff and walked along the stone ground that had been stepped very smooth by countless predecessors to the palace of the chapter leader, wearing the honor of an eagle helmet. The Guardsmen saluted him in turn, and the Chief Librarian returned the appropriate salute.
The gilded bronze door of the Chapter Master's room opened, and Tigris walked in. Manius Augustus Calgar was sitting on the throne in the center, Macragge's current master, Ultimate The Chapter Master of the Warriors was watching the incoming man with his still intact human eye.
"Tigris," the chapter leader's voice was consistent with his person, firm and powerful, but without any sense of delay, "you are here to report the latest progress."
" That's it, my lord." The chief think tank director walked to the throne and saluted Calgar, "The predictions given to me by the Emperor's Tarot and other runes have become increasingly clear."
"This is indeed good news, Varro." His chapter leader came down from the throne and motioned for the chief think tank to follow him.
They passed through the gilded bronze glass door of the Chapter Master's sanctuary and walked along the outdoor balcony corridor to the observation deck at the end of the building.
"I must say, I thought I would report this to you in a more formal place, my lord."
Calgar stared at the blue waves in the bay, "It's nice here , so as not to leak the news and let others see my gaffe." Then he turned around and said, "My two hearts have been beating since this morning. Varro, tell me your prophecy exactly. Let’s go.”
The chief think tank bowed almost gracefully.
"In a land surrounded by the unborn and betrayal, the bond of brotherhood will once again be the choice for the golden laurel."
The Lord of Macragge frowned tightly, "What does this mean? Wa Luo? Can you interpret it more clearly for me?"
"There is another picture that appears with this prophecy, my lord," the chief think tank said in a very soft tone, as if In a trance, he narrates a dream of colorful bubbles that may burst at any time, "A person with the face of the father of our genes will come to fight with us when the end of everything comes."
Gua... …
I would like to apologize to the Imperial Fists here because I am really not that familiar with the internal details of the Imperial Fists’ Phalanx (after all, I only have 1 brain and 24 hours, you can’t count on it) I know every race well, right (old face)). To be honest, some very specific information is surprisingly hard to find. Because Imperial Fists, I always took it for granted that it was a fairly mainstream group with rich information until I discovered that there was a group. Called the Black Orcs (crossed out) Black Templar...well...
I can only say that the description of some places is written directly according to my intuition. New readers please don’t take it too seriously. If it can arouse your interest and read some original materials, that would be great (you)
Then I fell down with a sore jaw. All you see are the soliloquies sent by the meditator.
See you in six o’clock!
(End of this chapter)