Chapter 354 Going Home
When Geratos embraced his soul full of collapse, fragmentation and grief and anger and opened his eyes, a snowflake was falling precariously from the leaden sky.
It fell gently into his eyes.
This hexagonal cold crystal was immediately melted by the extraordinary person's body temperature and turned into a crystal drop of water dripping from the corner of his eye.
Everything he had devoted his fervent devotion to had collapsed.
The idol he once believed in with all his heart has completely negated the meaning of his past existence.
If everything he had believed in had collapsed, was the crime he committed really as "just" as they had always believed...?
They have never become adults. The boy uses faith as a millstone to grind away all his rationality and humanity by himself, polishing himself into a complete weapon.
In this way, when you swing the weapon at any target, you will not question the significance of swinging the weapon to harm others.
You can tell yourself that everything is shouldered by a higher person.
Just give yourself completely.
Just hand it over.
The weapons of the gods require no will of their own.
The weapons of the Empire need not be human the last.
In a daze, he remembered the roar of the first Night Lord he had killed before his head was cut off.
"You slaves of lies! Idiots! That's just the throne of lies!"
*
So tired.
An unprecedented sense of fatigue swept over Geratos's soul.
*
The priest closed his eyes, and more and more snowflakes began to cover his eyelashes.
He lies here quietly waiting for the end, and death.
If everything is a lie and everything in their existence is meaningless, then let his own ridiculousness end.
*
“Hey, you can’t just lie here like this.”
A boy's voice sounded near Geratos.
The priest didn't move, he felt annoyed.
But he didn't even have the motivation to raise his bolter and give this troublesome young mortal a shot.
His muscles were as strong as ever, his magazines filled with witch-hunting bombs, but he now had no will to activate any of his nerves.
Just like this, after a while, this ungrateful mortal child will lose interest and walk away on his own.
"Get up, stand up. You can't just lie here like this."
The child repeated, "You will die soon - even if you are wearing such thick armor, death is extremely cold Night is coming soon, and no matter how thick the metal is, it won't do much to keep your body warm."
After a few seconds of silence, Black Templar still closed his eyes, but he opened his mouth to answer the boy.
"I'm fine. My power armor can provide heating. Since the polar night is coming, you'd better leave quickly and leave me here alone."
He paused Suddenly, a little impatience of emotion ignited weakly in the embers of his soul, which was about to cool down.
The Astartes' fingers moved an inch, groping for the bolter's trigger.
"Go away. Leave me here and leave me alone."
The boy should have noticed Geratos' massive, deadly weapon, but there was no flinch in his emotion.
"Then you have to get up too. And it's best to be quick. Who let me see you? You are so strong and strong, you must be good at hunting. It will be very difficult to lose your big house in this polar night. ”
“No, I don’t belong to anyone, I...I...I don’t need anyone now”
The bitter and pantothenic taste once again filled the Astartes' tongues. It tasted like the adrenaline combat medicine injected into their blood from the syringe built into the power armor before each battle.
"How is it possible? No one here would not need a strong person like you. But I have never seen you before. If I had seen you, I would definitely have an impression. Are you a wanderer? ? It’s so rare that any wanderer won’t survive the first polar night here. One must have a place to go back to in the darkest and coldest time - with water, food, and a fire. "The boy shrugged, squatted down next to him, and touched the temple cross on Geratos' shoulder plate through his thick animal leather gloves with a rigorous and restrained curiosity. coating.
"So, I can't wait for you too long. I have to leave before the polar night completely begins. You have to get up quickly."
"Get up? Go Where? I have nowhere to go.”
"Is that so? You can follow me there." The boy stood up and pointed to a ray of light on the horizon in the distance.
“Go to The House (Note 1).”
“The House? Who does it belong to?”
“There are many houses. House Dorne, The Lann family, the Polux family...but the house I pointed out to you is my house, which is the closest to here."
A special name shook his auditory nerves, making Geratos. The priest's limbs regained some of the energy that drove him to his feet.
Black Templar sat up, and the frost and snow that had begun to form a shell of ice cracked cracks and slid down from the surface of his armor.
"Dorne...family?"
"Yes, it seems you know my family."
"Dorne...is your family... ...?" The Black Templars Astartes turned his neck in the boy's direction stiffly and in disbelief.
The person who came into view made Geratos involuntarily let out a sigh of disappointment:
It was a boy wearing a windproof jacket and warm clothing made of various animal furs sewn by hand with needlework. His head and face were tightly wrapped in multiple layers of wool fabric, and even his eyes were protected by a large half-mask of primitive sunglasses. .
The boy's head was so thickly wrapped in fabric and fur that Geratos could not discern any facial features at all.
But judging from the height and body shape, this is a mortal boy with no extra mutated limbs. He may be in pre-puberty. He is also holding a sled in his hand, with some things that cannot be seen on it. There were two large sled dogs with thick fur being tied to the sled, grinning but with their tails between their legs, staring at the tall stranger in black armor.
The boy looked up at him behind his sunglasses, "Oh my God! You are so tall!"
The mortal child didn't look afraid of him at all, Geratos wondered if this was Because mortals have never seen Space Marines in their short lives and have no idea what they represent.
For some reason, this made him feel strangely at ease.
No one here knows him...
"Let's go! Hurry up." The boy urged again, "The polar night is really coming!"
He stepped forward, took hold of Geratos's gauntlet, and led him one step at a time, braving the increasingly heavy wind and snow towards the lighted place to return.
——————————
"Hi? Hi? Magna?"
Lami Zane waved his hand in front of Magna who suddenly froze, "What's wrong with you? Are you okay? Is it down? Destiny Steel Are you okay?"
"How could he be down? His main processing array has not reached 50%, and we don't have any combat or high-energy real-time data to process."
Pei. Turab flicked his plush tail, jumped off the desk and walked over, then jumped onto Lamizane's arm, stretched out his head, and carefully looked at the face of Magna Dorn that he cast himself. , Rogal Dorn's Death Mask.
The dog's paw hooked up a secret maintenance switch and started running the detection code.
"Nothing wrong, strange."
Perturabo's bright brown sheepdog eyes stared sternly at Magna Dorn's white-blue electronic bionic eyes.
"You shouldn't be..."
The other party blinked, immediately hugged his teacher, and rubbed his cheek against the shepherd's fluffy and warm fur.
“Tsk, it looks like it’s not him.”
Perturabo shook his tail and began to bark at his flagship machine spirit.
(End of this chapter)