Chapter 247 You have done a good job, now, here I come
With the invasion of the Twelfth Legion raiders, the scene in the darkness began to become chaotic.
For the Loyalists, the enemy's numbers, firepower, and will to kill are overwhelming.
The shattered fragments of stone, metal and ceramic steel splashed on Dae'ol's ceramic steel breastplate and belly armor, making a large tinkling sound.
In his constantly flashing malfunctioning tactical eyepiece, he saw many of his companions for months being struck by the World Eaters - if they could still be called World Eaters, the former Twelfth The legion's white and blue power armor is now stained with stale or more fresh blood stains in deep and light reddish brown. Huge horns seem to be coming out of their helmets. They are exuding the heat of smoke and a certain A chemical stink - Terra. What is this if not witchcraft and magic? What made the former warrior look like this?
Da'or raised his gun and shot at the gap where the attackers suddenly poured in. Kellorn turned his back to him, and was distracted by the attack, completely unaware of what was wrong with his friend.
Pirames' feathered golden crown and royal purple swayed vaguely in the flash of gunfire. He fell into the siege, but the World Eater saw from the corner of his eye that his cloak was still there. Dancing with his blade unyieldingly.
Dae'ol just pulled the trigger and let the recoil of the shot feed back to his fingers. He knew that he almost didn't hit anything, but doing so made the nail in his head feel better and made him feel better. He would not have to be forced again to experience the pain of taking the life of another former brother in his only conscious second.
How many were killed? Maybe a hundred? Two hundred? A familiar and not-so-familiar face from his past in the Twelfth Legion, Da'a'ol is tired of killing, but there is no end to the nails they drive into their own heads to show their loyalty.
"I am loyal." He murmured and raised his hand, his fingers unconsciously digging into his skull.
Tears blurred his eyes.
He was pained by anger, anger at the sudden realization that the death he deserved had not been allowed to come to him.
Yes. The World Eaters totally got it.
Death is the ending given to him and his brothers by Angron, the father of genes, only death.
"I am loyal." He murmured, and the Luna Wolf warriors stretched out their hands towards him, as if to pull him to break away along the small staircase.
Kellorn was facing away from him, fighting back at the swaying, double-horned figures of the Twelfth Legion soldiers who rushed in from the dark shadows. "We have to leave as soon as possible. This place has been lost."
He said, while glancing worriedly in the direction of the Emperor's Children and Death Guard: the two brothers they fought together were separated too far, and were gradually blocked on the other side of the attacker's line.
"We must go. If we continue to fight."
"Fight?"
Da'ol repeated, his fingers Is trying hard to peel off his own skin, "Fight. I am loyal. Fight."
"Yes, fight," the Luna Wolf desperately pulled him up the stairs, continuing to fight back at every corner, "We will fight the betrayer until our last breath."
I don't know why, at this moment, Dae'ol had a strange feeling that Kellorn was not speaking to him, but to himself.
How ridiculous, when he was about to figure it out, he thought, how ridiculous, he said he would continue to fight.
The nails are singing.
Tell him not to care what he is about to kill.
Just pull the trigger.
He will be liberated.
In the madness and destruction of betrayal.
Relief - death.
Dae'ol laughed loudly because at this moment he understood the fate of salvation he was promised. He laughed so hard that he could hardly breathe. His vision was completely blurred by sweat and heat. The Luna Wolf heard his laughter and turned towards him in confusion.
In the Space Marine's neural perception, which was born for battle and battlefield, and was genetically enhanced and modified, he and he both stared blankly at the bolt muzzle raised by the World Eater towards the sea pine green breastplate - Chapter 1 The Terran warrior of the Sixteenth Legion is by no means a helpless recruit. His rich experience, physical fitness and combat skills of a Space Marine are still intact with the name of the Luna Wolf.
What really caused him to be destroyed beyond belief and without fighting back was betrayal.
Just like everyone else and everything destroyed by betrayal. "I am loyal!"
Dae'ol pointed the muzzle of his gun at the breastplate of his brother and comrade-in-arms, and pulled the trigger with his index finger.
The nails in his skull sang out with joy and began to explosively - and less stingily than before - pump a devastating dose of endorphins into his brain -
He saw Kell Lorne The disbelief and sadness in his body and posture - he hadn't even had time to feel angry at him.
But so what - ever since the skies of Istvan III were lit by the spirit of vengeance, there has been no room for miracles here -
Platinum Light.
The World Eaters' eyes were filled with tears of physiological stimulation.
"I am loyal."
He murmured, feeling the power of the trigger feeding back into him, not letting go of it even when the light temporarily blinded him.
He could almost imagine his opponent, who had been trying to hold him back, to recall his betrayal of the sea pine green breastplate of the Legionnaire who had fought for humanity and the Emperor for many years. The bullet dented, penetrated, and made many holes, then fell backwards in tatters in the dilapidated ruins underground of Istvan III.
Dazzling platinum light fills the dark semi-enclosed underground space.
All the creatures that were illuminated roared and covered their eyes.
Having adapted to the extremely dark environment here, they all temporarily lost their vision.
Then something came.
Very huge, incredibly fast, and full of power.
He heard the sound of many ceramic armors hitting or falling to the stone ground at almost the same moment.
——The arrival of a being that made Dae'ol's heart begin to feel tired, kind, calm, and horrified at what crime he had just committed, and made his nails roar angrily in his mind. .
has arrived.
He heard a voice.
Someone walked up to him.
The World Eaters shed more and more tears.
It's biological, he thought, but he couldn't stop them and didn't want to stop them.
There was a hand, unusually large, so large that the skull of an Astartes would appear small in its hand.
Caress the top of his head with warmth and soft power.
The nail struggled a few times amid the unwilling roar, and then stopped as if it had been drained of energy.
It appears that a pharmacist's needle has been inserted into his armored medical port.
Before he was paralyzed by the drug, Dha'ol heard his Primarch speaking with a nobility he had never heard before, but had wished to hear since his first day as a Legionnaire. the voice said to him.
"You have done a good job, now I am here, don't worry, follow me."
(End of Chapter)