Chapter 404 Dance of the Black Phoenix (Part 2)
When he died in her hands, Ma Kuchen trembled.
Even through his dimming vision, he noticed the damage to her helmet and breastplate—the armor had cracked, letting out some of the stinky alien blood.
He only managed to graze her a few times with over forty bolters from his heavy bolter, and while there were no direct hits, the blasts burned her - even if not as much as he had hoped. That crippled her.
“Go to sleep.”
She caressed him with a voice that was gentle but somehow mocking.
Ma Kuchen grabbed the spear that pierced his chest, pulled it out with all his strength, and moved half a meter closer to her. He felt the harsh friction sound of the metal rod, rubbing against his damaged body. ribcage and charred flesh.
“Go to sleep.”
She spoke again, and she laughed. It was a low and melodious laughter, which would only make Ma Kuchen’s teeth harder. The ground snaps together.
He grabbed it again, pulled it again, but barely moved - strength and blood were escaping from him.
She swung the spear back, and the pain when it came out was far worse than the snap when it went in.
With nothing to support him, Ma Kuchen's legs fell to the ground stiffly, and the sound of the impact of armor echoed in the air.
For a moment, he lay in a fetal position, trying to suck in the air that was unavailable.
His vision was graying at the edges.
She walked past him, and the swishing of her combat boots woke him up.
In his sight, she was just a vague figure, but training allowed him to see the specific information he needed.
With a roar of effort and pain, Markusen moved at the fastest speed in his life, and faster than ever before.
He swung the dagger in his hand, intending to pierce the Phoenix Lord's right leg.
But he had lost too much power, making this blow seem slow and weak.
“Poor pest.”
She laughed, turned, and drove her spear through his chest a second time.
Marcusen grinned at her, and with his last breath almost gone, the Eighth Legion soldier stared into the Phoenix Lord's eyes and spoke his last words.
"Haha, you can never catch the prophet"
Then the fire of his life burned out.
——————————
Lukovus landed in a dusty mist. One of his arms was missing and his armor was damaged in many places.
But he was still alive, and the Phoenix Lord failed to kill him.
Valier ignored the raptor. He stood in the rain, breathing the filtered air in the sealed armor.
“I saw them.”
The raptor spoke.
"They climbed out of the ground to the west on the battlements."
Valiel immediately started running, Lukovus laughed, and the Raptor's engines regained power.
After a few seconds, Lukovus attacked Valier from behind, grabbing his shoulder pads and lifting him up from the ground.
Valier doesn't like flying, but he doesn't like any raptors - but this is undoubtedly the fastest way.
“Huh?”
The first time Talos saw Valiel, it wasn't as if the apothecary had been roughly thrown to the ground from above.
The apothecary finally landed on his feet, and Lukovus landed more calmly, his claws grabbing the curved and sloping battlement wall.
As Valiel stood up, Talos approached the apothecary.
“I want an answer, Valier, and I want it now.”
“My explanation may take some time.”
"Are Septimus and Octavia still here? In this world?"
"They should be gone. This will also take time to explain."
" Brother, we are short of many things, such as ammunition and hope. Where is the Dark?"
"It may never come back."
Valier replied regretfully. Ross didn't show any disappointment either.
"Everyone move to the bunker, don't let her find out, act now, Valier, follow me. Start explaining."
Serion began to run wildly in the rain, his boots crunching on the rocky ground ring.
It is not difficult to find cover in this huge fortress. Although it is a prison, it is more like an abandoned city made of rubble and sloping walls.
He ran for a few minutes and finally stopped, arriving on a slope of ruins, where the walls of the barracks were located, next to the battlements.
The Night Lord began to climb up, tapping and scratching on the stone with his gauntlet. The stone was too slippery in the rain to hold on to.
"Have you ever noticed that when we lose a war, it always rains? The gods have a strange sense of humor."
Sirion's sarcastic joke, not a word of it from the others answer.
Valiel then spoke, but only to Talos.
"This world is a tomb." Talos responded softly.
"For the Legion, for the hundreds of Eldar who died there tonight."
Then the Prophet connected to the public channel communication.
"All Talons, all souls of the Eighth Legion, this is Talos, if you are still alive, answer me."
There was only a silent answer, and the cold passed through the communicator It made Talos feel like he was shouting into the graveyard.
Maybe Markarian was dead too, the thought made him shudder.
For a moment, Talos just looked at his tactical retina.
Ciel, Markusen, Ursus... everything gradually faded, everything became silent, everything disappeared.
"Valiel, this is not me. I doubt whether there will be a prophet to stand up and unite the Eighth Legion, but if there is, it will not be me. I can't even unite the First Claw."
“Hey.”
Serion interrupted him immediately.
"We're a difficult bunch at the best of times."
"I mean it, Valier, it's not me you're expecting, it's not me... Look at me, brother, Tell me, you believe I can unite thousands of murderers, traitors, thieves and assassins? Legion's shortcomings, so we deserve to die too."
"Your loyalty to your brother is commendable, but you are too pessimistic."
Valiel tried to appease the Prophet.
“No.”
Talos shook his head and took a step back.
"I am telling the truth, speaking of this 'prophet', in the era after the rebellion, we still have many such legends, which we call the Forge Omen, although in some company commanders This has never been affirmed there, but whether this is fate or not, I am not the prophet."
Valier nodded, and Talos saw his thoughts in his brother's pale eyes.
"Pharmacist, you have considered an alternative, I'm sure."
"This concept has stayed with me ever since I gave you the physiological tests."< br>
Valere took off his helmet.
“If a child has your gene seed implanted in his body, he will have all the qualities to become a powerful prophet.”
“You are guessing.”
< br>"Yes, but that's a good guess."
Selion cursed them on the ramp.
"If we really want to leave, can we leave now?"
Lukovos also climbed up the ramp, but Talos and Valier did not move.
"You know what the Primarch said to me a few hours before he died? He said that in the years after his death many would claim to lead the Legion, many would claim, They are the Primarch's designated successors, but he doesn't care... I hate this Legion, Valiel, do you really believe that I care about what will happen to you after I die?"
Apothecary One? Standing still, Talos took a breath.
“Sometimes, I can almost feel what the Primarch feels, Valiel, the war will go on forever, and in the meantime we have to endure betrayals... We hide, we run, we surprise, we ambush, We drank the blood of our enemies, we also suffered endless fratricide, my mother died in front of me, and I did not know her face! In the last century alone, I killed nineteen of my own brothers! , almost all stupid duels for the ownership of the sword, or for wounded pride! I don't want to join the Legion, I hate the Legion! Not for what it is, but for what it has made me! ”
On the night before his death, Talos could finally speak out the anger he had buried in his heart for ten thousand years without any scruples.
He, Talos Valcolan, has always hated the Night Lords, hated the Eighth Legion, and hated himself even more.
Valier remained silent. He did not seem to be shocked, but he had no desire to speak at all.
"Now, there is only one thing I want."
Taros said, tearing off the Eighth Legion's logo on himself with his bare hands, tearing off the winged skeleton.
This move shocked both Selion and Lukovus, because in the past, such a move meant rebellion, and it meant that the warrior was about to abandon his identity and belonging.
"I just want the alien head. I want to stick it on her spear, in the center of the ruins, in the name of Talos."
As he said that, he turned around and faced Go up the ramp.
"I must get it, Valier, you'd better hide, no matter whether I am dead or alive tonight, you are welcome to come for my gene seeds when dawn comes."
Valier stood in the rain, trying his best to resist the urge to follow.
"Talos——"
Suddenly, the pharmacist's voice was blocked.
The prophet looked back and found that Valier's body suddenly began to bleed, and a black spear tip protruded from his chest.
The next second, the pharmacist began to roar. This was the first time Talos heard such a loud sound coming from Valier's mouth.
Afterwards, he covered his bloody mouth with his hands, as if he could stop the life-blood spurting from his mouth.
But the spear suddenly pulled out and threw him back.
"Uh-huh..."
Valiel swayed half to death, the bionic leg crackling with sparks of protest as its shattered systems tried to regain balance.
When Valiel fell,
the three remaining Night Lords had begun running at full speed.
(End of this chapter)