Chapter 72
Destined Steel
Hall of Omens
This magnificent domed hall, which was secretly built with special materials and according to the drawings designed by the Fourth Primarch himself, is now silent Shrouded in dust, even the lightest dust did not float in the air.
The milky white artificial moon moves quietly on the huge background wall, signaling to everyone the coming and passing of night.
The current director of the Hall of Omens is currently lying in the apothecary's workshop receiving treatment, while the other director who holds the key to this place, his apprentice and acting priest, has also not returned there.
Therefore, to be honest, there is indeed a serious shortage of manpower on the Destiny Steel, so much so that in the eyes of others, there is no arrangement for such an important part of the ship and the "Silver Skull Chapter". Leave one person on duty.
But this does not mean that the security here is weak. It is different from some places such as decks or chapels that no one cares about. In view of the fact that this place has been inseparable from the subspace since its construction. And the reason for storing a large amount of "holy relics" and witchcraft books, raw materials, etc. - this batch is probably enough to summon a dozen judges or some more ruthless powerful warriors from other places. There are a lot of self-discipline protection measures here, as well as multiple safety devices that can be activated from the outside.
All passages on the Destiny Steel were silent.
Most of the crew members who were replenished from the previous port have taken the precious time to fall asleep after their duty, while others are firmly bound to their posts by their responsibilities - in the noun sense or in the physical sense.
The regular and golden footsteps of the mixed patrol of Astartes and Iron Ring droids echoed inside the empty ship passage.
All in all, this is a time when no one will wander in the passage of the Destiny Steel-Iron Blood, and the cost of wandering will most likely be a "gun" from an automatic security turret or a robot.
For the vast majority of people on the ship, what is about to pass is just another ordinary day.
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The silver moon slowly moved to the middle of the lapis lazuli sky.
The door of the Hall of Omens has undergone incredible changes.
The incantations, patterns and colors layered on the gate using a variety of different techniques began to change, flow, twist and rotate, and images of a million worlds swept through eternity in just a few moments. However, ruthless knowledge from a million worlds swarmed in, making this adamantine door with top-notch materials and craftsmanship begin to shine under the burden, but it could still persist, so after the first wave of offensive, It seemed that the invisible attacker was getting more and more angry because of his pride and hatred. The second surge of power was more violent and unrestrained -
A small button was pressed.
The door flashed a light, a quiet and ordinary light.
The door returned to calm.
With the receding psychic roar full of anger and annoyance, the hurricane in the vast ocean was ruthlessly suppressed, just like a human being using a plastic box to trap a beetle flying around the house. It seems simple and easy. There is also an inevitable certainty and overwhelming energy.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Magnus - panting, weak, dazed, empty, and tattered, Magnus suddenly jumped out of the void and knelt down in the center of the Hall of Omens.
He looked scarred and almost translucent, becoming increasingly bright and dim under the silvery moonlight. The edges of his body flashed with exploding light, and the whole person looked like an old, worn-out malfunction. A broken fragment of something cast by a projector here, far from the sun.
The special and luxurious armor of the Primarch of the Fifteenth Legion is in dilapidated condition. It is composed of curled ivory, giant horns, strong muscle patterns, and hundreds of the most gorgeous gold and gem character patterns. The fragments of the masterpiece hung reluctantly on his body, and Magnus's clothing was in a miserable state, with only a few strips of cloth stained with glistening psychic blood wrapped around his body.
The crimson and gold giant seemed to be immersed in some huge and terrifying memories for a while, unable to get up. A huge scimitar made of metal produced by Prospero hung on the On his belt, a massive tome made of psyker skin and other rare materials hung from a gold buckle on the other side of his waist.
The hall is still quiet, and the mortals are immersed in ordinary dreams.
"What a mess, Magnus."
A strange voice sounded, alarming the Cyclops.
He struggled to stand up, trying to gather a few shields or other spells for himself.
The supreme vast ocean did not respond to him. In fact, no matter what it was, wild or malicious, unfaced regret or the power of nightmares - there was nothing, only nothingness in the darkness. The broken phantom flickered even more fiercely.
“I can’t use your spells here, so save your energy.”
There was some kind of electronic noise mixed into the sound, and the Cyclops immediately recognized that it should be some kind of sound-producing device used to replace speech.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
The Fifteenth Primarch suddenly realized that the gentle movement he just heard was not an illusion.
A creature that he had never expected at this moment appeared in front of him from a corner of the hall.
The sound just now was the tip of a horny claw walking across the hard ground.
He can probably recognize this creature, because he is both a warrior and a knowledgeable scholar.
That's why the whole situation is getting weirder now.
Magnus could no longer believe his eyes at this moment. He raised the scarred Prospero scimitar and put it into an attack posture, trying to make himself look more imposing.
"What are you?" Magnus asked warily. "Who are you?"
"You can put down your weapon first. - By the way, your attack posture is still full of flaws." The visitor said slowly, and the Scarlet King noticed it The reason why speaking is so slow is that it also requires typing sentences.
"You can't hurt me with it, and I have no intention of hurting you. Magnus."
Between the lightning and flint, an indescribable and wonderful throbbing passed along the thread. Reaching into Magnus's disembodied form, he realized it was right, and he lowered the tip of his scimitar without sheathing it.
"Who are you? Where are you? What happened next...?"
"A very good question." The other party replied, "But this is my territory. Before asking questions, maybe you should listen to the questions of the owner of this place first?"
"Then at least let me know first, this Where?”
“Of course.”
The other party took another step forward, exposing his bright brown almond eyes and elegant and intelligent plush black and white face. under the bright moonlight.
"Welcome aboard my flagship, the Ironblood, Magnus."
Lord Prospero uttered the most horrifying choking sound he had ever known.
Gua...
Wow, pony is so difficult to write, much harder than I thought...
Is there any monk from the Thousand Sons Legion who can raise your hand for me? Seeing your support...
(I have to add some energy...)
Broken, Chaos, the title of this chapter is not displayed anyway
Thinking, let me try to change the title to a more common one
Can you see the title now? (Why do I feel like the title was stolen by someone? I’m annoyed)
(End of this chapter)