Chapter 129: Breaking the Cup
In space orbit thousands of kilometers above the earth's surface, the cold breath of death from the dark void surrounds Lysander.
This white-haired man completely overturned his impression of the original body and his father, but his real feeling was unmistakable. He and his battle group had known each other for ten thousand years. Rogal Dorn?
But if, if only Lysander is willing to throw everything he has and his past glory into the dark abyss as a sacrifice, then the original body can finally return to the mountain formation and lead the Imperial Fists...
< br>Beads of sweat quietly broke out on his forehead at some point.
Is it better to wake up from this dream, or continue to dream it?
Meanwhile on the other side.
————————
Destiny Steel
The harmonious atmosphere of the Hall of the Twelve Temples with fragrant clothes and shadows (?)
It is well known that followers of Ohm's Messiah are often difficult to please with mortal pleasures or entertainment.
Just because they have dedicated themselves to the higher goals and gods, their flesh and blood are weak, and the pleasure of serving the knowledge of the gods of all machines is far better than the vulgar pleasures of the earthly world - well, at least the priests Most of the time when facing the people of the Empire, the Astral Legion or some Adeptus Astartes, this is what he means.
However, the mechanical thinking circuit of Sage Nilanvila, who is already seated at this moment, has become lazy, and she no longer wants to cover up anything, unless it is too extraordinary - the assist in her appendage The processing unit's preprogrammed codes will help her not to get to the point of losing her temper.
Although her loyal Skitarii Alpha and other warriors still held their weapons tightly and dutifully aimed at the man who didn't know why he didn't move, but instead stared like a crow. The Space Wolves Space Marines made her very uncomfortable, but they had also unknowingly drank cup after cup of more than the normal amount of a drink made from the craft white Grosko Woman and refined promethium, well, You can't blame them entirely, can you?
After all, Nilanvera's mechanical oral sensors and the information she obtained from the data links of the Skitarii told her that all of these looked fresh and delicious, and were actually very fresh and delicious. The food and drinks are actually filled with freshly peeled lemon peels, real spice plant brewing liquid and pure edible ethanol.
Too luxurious.
This is all she feels about this welcome banquet now. As a woman who has her brain and backup memory unit installed on her chest and lower back, and her main power reactor and memory storage unit installed in her removed uterus. For qualified mechanical sages in the ovarian and ovary areas, this type of concentration is rare.
Therefore, it is normal for the sage who came with the idea of "I want it all" to have a favorable impression of everything here unconsciously, right?
At the same time, she also seemed to be much more patient with the awkward conversation that the head of the Rogue Trader family kept having nothing to say.
And he was still chattering about how adorable his dog was in that penetrating deep voice that was as penetrating as a steel hammer on an anvil, perfect for reciting binary prayers and mechanical hymns. Humph, the Rogue Trader's extravagant and useless little hobby. They always kept some expensive and rare ornamental pets. For example, another Rogue Trader captain she knew even kept aliens on his ship.
Well, that black and white furry four-legged creature is indeed eye-catching. Sage Nilanvera will not admit that his No. 3 and No. 4 sensors have scanned its head and tail hair many times, but the flesh and blood Living things are too fragile for immutable metals, and knowing that its fur is comparable to wool and cashmere means nothing to steel limbs. The Adeptus Mechanicus has its own way of measuring heat energy.
"Sage Nilanvera?"
Oh, why is she distracted again? The sage representative turns the front of the female mask in the direction of the questioning voice.
The man who was too perfect and charming by the standards of flesh and blood, or the standards of mechanical eyes, was raising his glass to her, while the man next to him only lowered his head and shivered. The silly Astropath girl is really a waste of her gifted beauty. Maybe she can get this girl later, make her body into a servitor, and her powerful brain can be used for Geller force field experiments. ...What happened to this psychic counter? Is the sensor broken? Why can't the numbers be displayed? What trouble... "May the light of the Ohm Messiah keep your sensors healthy, sage." Well, she could graciously forgive the extremely handsome captain this lame compliment, as long as he could next Be knowledgeable...
Several metal appendages of the Mechanical Sage protruded from under her robe with sticky gel, and one held a video servo skull so that she could record the beauty and details of this banquet for future use. In order to hold a banquet here, she sent some pre-written parchment rolls to the table. On them were written in High Gothic and sacred binary language the contract she was going to ask the Rogue Trader to sign. , the last one was looking towards Captain Carosini's hatefully handsome face when she raised the wine glass with her own hand.
At this time, several rays of light flashed through the mechanical aperture of her mask.
————————
And in the temporary psychic communication channel on the other side.
(...Uh-huh, I thought I would just sit here and talk nonsense with her for an hour or two, and then Bella Kahn would change her name before she went back. But it looks like that's the case Some... I said, are she and her subordinates completely unaware that their appearance has become very problematic? )
(This is the effect of the Plague God's cognitive filter. Since one of our special correspondents has not sent back the signal, Lamizane, you still have to talk nonsense with her. Oh, and you! Don't think I can do some little tricks while my typing speed is slow! Ma-Atra! )
(It’s Uselma Atra, okay, I can’t help it anymore, I’m starting to I feel like the changelings, monster-dread flesh and chaos eggs I've seen in... are all very clean and tidy compared to them. Please, please do something. I feel itchy all over. I can't control my hands anymore! I want to throw psychic fireballs and lightning at this pile of rotten and smelly mechanical meat! )
(Then lower your head and hold back, Just bear with it for a while and it will pass)
(You said it easily, soothing the violent psychic energy is not as easy as you think.)
(Thank you for your complaint, Maatra, I'm not Guilliman, I know what it's like to use psionics )
(Maatra’s experience sounds really rich. Can you tell me about it later? I said, how long do we need to talk? Is that corpse water under her robe? I said! Will mechanical limbs be like this?! Wait, Wait, (Gutera swears), what does her tentacle dripping with pus and rotten teeth want to do? )
(Prospero’s sky! Don’t come here!)
——————
The golden cup filled with grape wine fell to the ground.
Make a crisp jingle sound.
The air in the banquet hall was filled with the strong smell of ozone, burning, scorched ash, and dried swamp mud. The rusty metal melted by plasma, melt beams, and jet flames hissed through the sparse living environment. The material flowed to the ground, making a mess on the exquisite carpets and floors.
The frightened fifteenth Primarch maintained his spell-casting posture, and the afterglow sparks of the most violent psychic storm in the vast ocean still lingered and danced on his fingertips.
Lami Zane blinked and looked at the shield spread out in front of him and the group of Iron Ring mechas equipped with plasma and melt cannons that had been ambushed in advance on the walls around the banquet hall. A mechanical sage who is a half-condensed inorganic shell that has been scorched and corroded to the point where it can no longer be twisted.
Vanus slowly emerged from the shadows on the other side of the hall - drawing most of the first wave of fire from the Skitarii's lethal radiation weapons.
The black and white dog sat on his high sofa with an expressionless expression, watching everything coldly.
"Wow." Lamizane finally sighed, "It seems that our competition has come to an end."
Gua.
The plan is to publish a Dantioch interlude three first (because I forgot to label Dantioch’s interlude yesterday when I posted the second interlude of Dantioch (you)), and the Phoenix interlude is because For a small accident, I may have to expand (?) or simply write it into the following text lines
UMM, the third interlude of Dantioch is not particularly pleasant. It is three interludes and it has to be gentle. Someone has to be there. Eat Iron Fist
(End of this chapter)