Chapter 377 The Banshee's Howl
That was a scream -
A terrible, very terrible scream.
With his hazy vision, Kangke saw a crack appearing in the air, as if he had been struck by lightning.
The old, lifeless air seemed to shimmer, as if a hot mist had suddenly appeared in its center.
Konko managed to activate his throne, the datalink stretching across his loose skin, but it took time, and at the blast door beyond, all the armed guards were dead, their bodies scattered behind the open partitions.
Something was moving around them, shimmering.
They flew across the bridge at a speed that the eye could barely follow, moving from one side of the console to the other in lightning speed.
Conco watched paralyzed with fear as the staff on the bridge seemed to be chopped up by the flow of energy.
The limbs were separated, the throat was slit, and the chest was sliced open.
Blood and screams filled the command deck.
Suddenly, the pain and screaming that tortured Konko seemed to have disappeared.
He panted, and his bony fingers fumbled for the station-wide alert button on the armrest of the throne.
"Seal the blast door!"
While he was roaring, no one was listening, and everything around him fell into chaos.
The crew is being slaughtered.
When his vision became clear, those "lightnings" had turned into tall, slender shapes - they wore bone-white armor, strange masks, and scarlet sideburns on their heads. Then it flew up, like splattering blood.
These monstrous forms moved with a speed and grace unmatched by humans, desperately cutting away at the desperate bridge crew with their meager swords and spears.
In just the blink of an eye, they had eliminated the safety assessment team and began attacking the deck officers, platform operators and ship analysts.
Seeing his subordinates being cut and dismembered, and the mechanical parts mixed with fuel and blood exploding, Kangke's aging hands finally reached the station-wide alert button.
But just like before, he found himself frozen, unable to move.
He was very nervous, his jaw tightened, and a helpless roar formed in his throat, but his body refused to obey at all.
It was like the sleep paralysis he had experienced during his long journey through the Warp - the will still functioned, but it was as if it had been trapped in a stone statue, completely unable to respond to his will.
He struggled to pray to the emperor, his glasses frame wet with sweat.
Finally, the last of his crew died.
There was a sudden silence on the bridge, and the sound of blood dripping on the deck could even be heard before the cogitator whirred and lost power.
Only one human remains alive, sitting on a throne in the center of the domed chamber.
A war wizard used psychic powers to immobilize the body of an old human.
Then she slowly climbed up the steps of the podium, the ancient witch's sword dripping with blood, and the white edge of her robe was stained with blood.
When she stood in front of this human being, the human being was also looking at her, but his eyes were aimless.
Veronica stared into his eyes for a moment, usually she didn't get much from a species like this - there was basically nothing to find except hatred and fear.
As usual, their thought processes are extremely simplistic and Veronica finds no pleasure in destroying them.
Or she never has.
As a young Eldar, Veronica spent most of her time as a member of the Black Guardians, roaming near the Eye of the Cursed and blocking the horrific things that escaped from it.
She didn't even know the significance of the Great Prophet asking her to participate in this task. She never had any special thoughts about human beings - neither hatred nor interest.
However, now is not the time for mercy.
Using pale and slender fingers to tuck a strand of silver hair that fell on her forehead behind her ear, Veronica stretched out her hand.
She could feel the old human, trembling with desire to be free of her, even fighting with every fiber of his being to escape the helplessness of the witchcraft.
The veins protruded on the high neck in the straight collar of the military uniform, and sweat covered the wrinkled forehead.
Then, Veronica gently touched his forehead with two slender fingers. She needed to obtain the orbital station's fire control key from this human's head.
The moment she was relieved, all kinds of emotions filled her will.
Fear, anger, shock. She brushed past them, searching for what lay beneath.
Her own consciousness quickly passed through human memory, looking for the cornerstone of the soul.
She felt a mixture of pain and pride as she watched him sit on this throne for the first time, as the red-robed chanting machine creature attached data links and cables to his flesh.
She dived deeper.
She saw him on another ship, a capital ship of some kind, clinging to the railing around the throne, surrounded by flames and covered in blood. .
This was the most humiliating moment in his life and his most tragic failure.
She goes deeper.
She saw him standing in a splendid cathedral, surrounded by applauding guests, and a beautiful woman opposite him. The priest was loudly praising the Lord of Mankind and announcing their marriage. of sanctity.
He is young, his body is no longer shriveled, and excitement and joy fill his mind.
There is another kind of...
Veronica is a little hesitant about this emotion, just like a child looking up at the sugar bowl on the cabinet. It may be risky to get it, but it is wonderful The taste is irresistible.
What is this emotion?
Is this the love mentioned in books?
A certain sound suddenly reminded her.
So far, Veronica immediately concentrated on guarding her consciousness. She had gone too far in this person's memory.
She suddenly discovered that although some things were forgotten deep in their hearts, they were never lost.
Honor, responsibility, and love.
This seemed to be his core, the root of his existence, and the reason he continued to live and breathe - even if he had forgotten.
Everything seemed very long, but in fact it was over in less than a second.
With Veronica's thoughts of an eternal end, the network cable of reality erased his existence.
The human race immediately collapsed on its throne and died.
Veronica removed her finger.
For a moment, she looked down at the corpse with empty eyes.
For a moment, she wondered if he had ever imagined the violent and bloody path he would take when he still knew warmth and love.
"Witch, don't be too indulged in the souls of other creatures, it is harmful."
A solemn voice sounded, and Veronica quickly turned her attention away from the human corpse. open.
She turned around, looked at the blood-stained bridge, and saw a strong figure emerging from the Shura field - wearing dark bronze ancient armor, holding a spear, and black tassels The hair flows from the back of the head.
Lord of the Howling Banshees, Jarn Zhar.
"These monkeys are left with only violence and ignorance. Their souls are like poor spirits. Drinking them will only cause headaches and nausea. Only the depraved will try to get nourishment from the souls of these monkeys."
The Banshee Lord's voice sounded admonishing, and Veronica, who had obtained the orbital station's fire control key, quickly lowered her head.
"Yes."
Outside the orbital station, a small Eldar battleship is quietly attached to the metal shell. It has a filled holographic shield and is covered with the most powerful The psychic veil allowed him to approach the orbital station quietly, avoiding all detectors.
The core of the orbital station has been defeated, but their number is far from enough to occupy the entire orbital station. In fact, Veronica can hear the sound of knocking on the sealed blast door in the distance, which is more humans. Seeking entry.
They were running out of time.
Veronica knew that, despite the Great Prophet's efforts to loosen the chains, fate's hand was still tightening like a noose around their throats.
If she does not succeed here, she will lose more than just her personal future.
The entire Arkworld will be in crisis.
“We must be quick.”
(End of this chapter)