Chapter 468 Prisoner


Chapter 468 Prisoner

To them you are just a war machine. They let you go into battle and then lock you in a cage until they need you to spill more blood. Wake you up.

But you were also a powerful hero, remember?

You do remember, don't you, the Seventh Captain of the Star Claws, Kandari Kala Harir?

Some memory fragments from the past came up, twisting his mind into a ball of string...

Before that person turned him into this, when he still had his own body, before he heard these voices...

Their voices, thousands of voices Rolling around in my head.

They taunted him, took away his reason, and increased his pain...

He didn't want to hear them, and he never wanted to hear them, just like he never wanted to hear them forever. Killing without stopping, just to make them rest even for a moment.

But the voices would not stop, they chattered incessantly every waking moment of his life.

And when he rested - even though it didn't dream - the faces of the dead haunted his mind.

He kept rejecting them, and the voices kept getting louder.

The memory becomes even more confusing.

His brother, his biological brother, argued with him and tried to persuade him.

The man told him that if he wanted to ensure their independence and ensure that they were not bound by ordinary people and driven like dogs, they must resist.

But again he refused, and the voices grew louder.

“You should listen to him more, you poor thing.”

“He is always strong and always above you. If you still had a chance, listen to him. , you won’t end up in such a situation.”

A planet was burned up, and the person he once admired has already embarked on a path of no return, and he will never join in.

When he disobeyed that person's will, he was imprisoned.

The only reason that kept the man from killing him was the old relationship between them.

While Star Claw transformed into the Red Pirate, he was slowly rotting in a cell and slowly going crazy...

Sometimes, at night, the man would come to him The cell came to persuade him to reconsider.

Those voices would also clamor for him, but he still refused.

Finally, the man got impatient.

What's his name?

The remaining traces of sanity in the brain are like a drowning man clutching the only straw.

He remembered.

The man's name was Luft Huron.

Those who transformed with him, received training together, served together, and went through the most difficult years of the battle group together.

His brother, his best friend -

Huron told him that soon his will would no longer be his own, and he would no longer be able to control his actions.

His brother, his own brother, not even that could sway him, no matter how hard Huron tried, no matter how hard those voices tried.

Many years have passed. During those years, his skin has never experienced sunlight again, and his feet have never stepped on an abnormal shape.

He exists in the dark void, with only those voices as companions.

His brother still visited him in prison, again and again, but the visits were increasingly spaced out. And every time I saw him, he looked less and less like the warrior I once called my brother.

The voices became omnipresent and deafening, but what they said no longer meant anything to him, just an elegy that blocked his words of cajoling.

He can't feel time, space, or self.

Sometimes the voices would whisper to him in convincing tones the horrific deeds his brothers, and his own brother, had committed.

As he slept, they would show a picture: rivers of blood on the streets, children watching in horror as their parents were slaughtered, knowing that they were the next targets of the butchers' knives.

In the burning world, millions of souls cry out in fear.

And the new prison built for him.

Suddenly, his thoughts fell into deeper confusion.

Kandali Kala Harir, are these things revealed to you, or are you seeing them with your own eyes?

Then they stood before him.

While he was imprisoned, his brothers had changed beyond recognition, and madness had eroded his memory so much that he could no longer even remember their names.

The once smooth curved surface of the Space Marine's power armor is now covered with spikes and ridges, and sharp horns stand on the helmet. Those who are not wearing helmets have strange symbols on their skin. Looking at it that day As they did, those voices became more excited than ever.

When he looked out from the small prison for the last time, he found that the battleship where he was imprisoned had also been eroded and changed.

They taunted him, his brothers, taunted him like the voices he had fought against for countless years.

Then he started fighting with them, not because of their ridicule, but because they had ignored him and locked me away for so many years.

It was not madness that drove him to rush towards them, nor was it a desire to be free, but when they carried him through the corridor full of organs, his survival instinct made him keep struggling to death. .

Those voices already told him what was waiting for him.

Staying in that cold, dark cell forever was much better than the destination his brother, his biological brother, had prepared for him.

He hoped he would not remember what happened after that, for madness would cloud all memories of atrocities.

But those sounds would constantly remind him, allowing him to relive every minute of that horror.

"We don't have to do that. That was the greatest moment in your life. It was your new life. You should be proud of it."

The hall was filled with people from all walks of life. With all kinds of instruments and devices, the acolytes in black robes murmured prayers in dark languages ​​and poured burning and stinking incense on them.

His brothers pinned him to an obsidian pedestal and bound him with thick iron chains that burned the flesh.

He fought them to the last moment, biting them even when the shackles were fastened and all hope was gone.

His brother, his own brother, came up to him and was treating him like an animal to be sacrificed.

"Brother, I have found a way to restore our prosperity and our former glory, but I need your help. Will you help me? Will you help us?"

The man's arms swept dramatically over the former Star Claws members in the hall.

His long years as a prisoner have caused his speech ability to plummet, but he actually does not need to use words to answer the other party.

He mobilized every fiber of his body, recalling long-forgotten memories, and then activated the glands in his mouth and spit out a ball of acid on the opponent's face.

His brother, his biological brother, did not hide away - the other man still bears that scar to this day.

(End of this chapter)

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