Chapter 401 Void Walker
“Talos?”
Although the voices around him kept reminding him, the prophet did not answer. Instead, he gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger, firing tracer bullets to illuminate the darkness. tunnel.
The numerical runes on the helmet's tactical retina faded, shrinking every second, just as the assault gun's rotating barrel began to glow a brighter red under the pressure of superheat.
"Taros."
The voice was hoarse again.
"Don't go too far forward."
The assault gun roared, and then slowly lowered.
Talos wanted to retort, but didn't know what to say - Sirion was right.
However, the frustration remains.
The hunt changed again.
Taros paused in his stride, letting the stabilizers and servo systems on his leg armor help him achieve this goal.
The gun barrel hissed in the cold air, and alien corpses were scattered at his feet. Selion and Marku walked closer with heavy steps, their joints grinding and heavy footsteps The sound filled the tunnel.
They all wore Terminator armor, and the twin bolt bombs on their arms showed the Tainted Imperial Eagle.
“I’m running out of ammo.”
Marku said in a low voice:
"It's time to put on our power armor again and split up. The slaughter is pleasant, but they are trying to avoid us."
Tower Ross nodded.
“I will miss these armaments.”
“So will I.”
Ma Kuchen replied with a smile.
"I can't even remember how many of these despicable aliens we killed. At the last intersection there were...there were so many of this group."
Marcusen used his double Bomb guns sprayed the bloody corpses that had been destroyed.
"About ninety-four"
"These are just scum."
Sirion turned his tusked helm towards Machu Shen.
"But what about those screaming bitches? I haven't hit them yet."
"Neither have I."
Taros said with regret.
"The first one was not hit, only the weak ones died like worms, and none of those howling banshees died."
Korosa, who was once a technical sergeant, walked last. His armor was washed clean with blood. His helmet was not in the style of the Eighth Legion, but a cruelly curved horn emerged from the bridge of the nose on the panel.
"They are the priestesses of the alien war god."
The prophet turned his head and looked at him, and no one said a word for a while.
"What did you just say?"
Corosa snorted.
"I have tortured Eldar prisoners in the past, so I probably know something about them."
"Whatever they are, we should return to the Third Claw to rendezvous."
"Taros. ”
Suddenly, a voice sounded in the communication channel,
The prophet hesitated for a while, but no famous characters flashed on his helmet display.
But the voice was familiar enough.
"Valiel?"
"Brother, I'm in the ruins above, we have to talk."
"No, please let this be a voyage Dirty joke, I ordered you to leave for a reason, idiot."
"Listen to me, Talos."
Talos then listened carefully to his brother's explanation, though Valiel's was rushed and fragmented.
After a while, Talos finally understood what he meant.
"Let's go to the third claw." He immediately ordered the other claws.
"Valiel, don't go down here. The tunnels are full of Eldar."
"Will you come back to the surface?"
Talos himself was not sure.
"Maybe, you just need to stay hidden now."
When the First Claw and the Third Claw finally reunited, the howling banshees were back.
The Third Talon had been reduced to four warriors, their slain brethren left in the corridor.
This time, the Night Lords are ready.
For the past few hours they'd chased their prey through the corridors, satisfying their hearts in a way they'd never felt before, but now they were going head-to-head.
The aliens howled through the ranks of the Eighth Legion, and only vague blades and flowing buns could be seen.
Taros heard a roar from one of his brothers.
“We are outnumbered!”
But the limbs and blades pressed against him made all information meaningless. The two banshees in front of him screamed and raised their swords. Talos felt the cold touch squirming in his muscles, slowing him down. speed.
"Hail! Lord of the Night!!!"
Talos let out a scream of his own, a roar from three lungs and an enhanced respiratory system, and The loudspeaker in the helmet increased the intensity of the scream tenfold.
The surviving Night Lords heard the cry and their hearts beat faster.
The long-standing tactic of the banshees has been to deafen the crowd with howls, making the enemy soft before killing them.
But now, now Talos was using it against the screamers.
The three alien long swords shattered at once. When the harmonious and brutal screams reached their peak, the eyepieces of several banshees also cracked at the same time.
Then the Night Lord's howl suddenly disappeared, and Talos suddenly swung his fist, damaging the first banshee's head, shattering her skull and shoulder bones.
The second man staggered back amid the shouts, but was immediately shot to pieces by the assault cannon.
Talos put down his empty assault cannon and reached for his bolter, taking a deep breath and preparing to scream again.
But suddenly, his throat seemed to be blocked by something.
Sirion on the side punched the alien in the stomach, breaking her sternum and spine at the same time.
When her two weak legs hung on him, he lowered his head and stabbed her body with his helmet.
“Did you hear that?”
Everyone shouted loudly, and Talos also closed his mouth. He felt that his heart was accelerating uncontrollably.
"It's footsteps."
Taros said calmly, realizing that something was approaching.
"It's not footsteps, that's too fast."
Celion tried to retort. He pushed hard twice before moving the twisting body off the horns.
When he stood up straight again, there was a hard cracking sound in his neck.
Then Sirion heard it too.
Talos was right, these were footsteps.
"What's that?"
There was a rush of rhythm hitting the stone softly on the steps, echoing through the corridor, as loud as the wind on the bend.
Talos stood above the two slain Eldar girls, blood dripping from his curled fingers.
Now all the shouting has stopped and the only sound is the sound of footsteps.
“What is it?”
Serion repeated his question.
Talos took a deep breath and answered tremblingly.
“A storm of flesh and blood, a rain of blades, she walked in the void.”
The prophet ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting the sour taste on his gums.
“Like a silent storm.”
(End of Chapter)