Lustful for flesh, thirsty for blood, it will enjoy this feast, it will taste blood and bite bones.
Its claws will feel the despair from its torn body.
The desire is always there.
Needs, desires.
Never responded to, never satisfied.
How could they possibly be satisfied? They are the essence of subspace and the essence of monster existence.
Passion is so fascinating.
The Feast will begin on a planet where the barrier between the physical universe and the Warp is thin and getting thinner.
The physical world squeezes them, desire and frustration appear with each other, intertwined, and turn into roars.
This roar sinks into the minds of those who long to hear it, giving them nightmares, bringing them madness, bringing them ecstasy, bringing them the embrace of nothingness.
The barrier still exists, but it just exists.
Its consciousness penetrated in, and when it reached the land, it saw that the world was so beautiful, giving it a feast of plunder.
Its thoughts explored the world, crossed the jungles of endless night, soared over the mountains, and danced on the oceans.
The concept of home made it feel ridiculous all day long.
It will see a planet, distorted by its influence.
But then it started to get restless.
The planet is just a stage, the actors have not yet appeared, but they will soon.
The beast waits behind the curtain, and its time is coming.
It murmured praise for it.
A murmur echoed around it, as its companions came to compete, to worship, to join in the carnival, for the moment they had longed for was coming.
At that time, they can finally spread the desired ideas at will into a galaxy full of screams, eager to taste real flesh.
Whispers echoed each other, desire breeding into stronger desire, until the world echoed with endless desire. .
The promise was fulfilled and the planet was right.
The demon beneath Pamphili's skin was examining the Archbishop's memories.
It stepped over the fallen altar as it paced back and forth, its four arms drawing various trajectories in the air, its posture lazy and graceful, summoning the coming fate, absorbing it and picking up the grimoire from Pamphili A power that was intended to be used from that moment on.
From outside the cathedral walls, the demons heard the roar of the fleet in orbit around the planet—the enemy had arrived.
The moment it was looking forward to was approaching, which made it smile expectantly.
In its belly, a mouth that had once been Pamphili moved, rattling unconsciously with praise and joy.
What was originally called Pomphyry stretched across twisted bones and skin, suffering so completely, so perfectly, that it craved pain as much as it craved pleasure.
All the illusions the Archbishop had originally held disappeared along with his identity, but the desire that drove him to destruction remained, and he rejoiced in a pain that was both punishment and reward.
Or it could be said that Pamphilly's soul disappeared and was devoured by the demon.
It had devoured him, and now it was looking for the spoils.
The time has come, and it already knows what joy it will bring to those indifferent and ignorant people, but it will never underestimate its enemy.
It predicts not only the death of human beings, but also pursues other pleasures. It hopes that Pamphili's memory can bring these pleasures, so it searches over and over again in the memory of the Archbishop.
Finally, it found what it wanted deep in Pangfili's heart, buried under layers of worldly memories.
The memory is small and easily overlooked because its owner has almost forgotten about it.
Pamphili never had reason to pay attention to this knowledge, which was obscured by administrative trivia.
But the demon found them, and there was more to the memories than he bargained for.
It chuckled happily -
The time has come.
The heavy rain outside had stopped, and the Astra Militarum finally gave up on the dilapidated castle and retreated to the Ministry of Justice's fortress under the cover of the Space Marines.
After coordinated operations, only about 6,000 of the more than 10,000 Astra Militarum troops returned to the safe zone.
Of these more than 6,000 people, in Soshyan's opinion, no more than 3,000 can continue to fight.
Although many people were not injured, they had suffered serious psychological damage, and a few of them had even begun to show signs of mental disorder.
The originally empty prison of the Ministry of Justice was quickly filled.
Now the entire fortress is in a state of war, and the heresy signs on the wall in the central hall have disappeared, replaced by a huge battlefield display.
Wearing the red and black military uniform that symbolizes the political commissar, Yarek strutted with a firm step that carried all the hope on this planet.
He retains a strong sense of self-esteem even in crisis.
In this regard, Soshyan felt that he was so similar to himself.
The once young political commissar, after only a few years, his face already looked weathered and covered with tiny scars.
The shape of his eyebrows and chin seemed harsher and more unforgiving than in the past.
Soshiyang believes that he is very suitable for his current position. At the moment when Daxia is about to collapse, he can actually turn the tide and unite the last imperial armed force. It can no longer be described as fulfilling his duties.
Were it not for the fact that he was a commissar, and that Soshyan even considered incorporating him into the mortal ranks of the Chapter, he would have been an extremely good field commander.
Unlike the bishop who sits in the cathedral waiting for corruption, he is the pride of the empire.
Soshyan also saw the heroic spirit of those unyielding mortals, and felt sorry for the death they would face.
But their endings are almost impossible to change.
All surviving Astra Militarum have been exposed to too much forbidden knowledge, which has led them to destruction more completely than the daemon invasion itself. He is not an Inquisitor, but he has some knowledge of the rules of the Inquisition.
No Inquisitor present would have allowed these men to leave Valedo alive.
Maybe the destruction will not come too soon, but in any case, for the Imperial soldiers who are still alive, their ending will not change.
Originally Soshyan had no power to change this.
But now he saw loyalty and bravery in this hall.
Maybe he doesn't have the power to save everyone, but he can at least save some of them.
"Is everyone here? It seems I'm late."
A relaxed voice sounded, and then the limping Inquisitor Marcus walked out from the side. Four of his followers were also beside him, all of them except Malthus.
Soshyan also didn't expect that the orbital bombardment almost killed an Imperial Inquisitor. Fortunately, he noticed that there were other battles nearby during the battle, and after Malthus found him, he jumped into the pit as soon as possible. Drag this inquisitor out of the clutches of the devil.
If he had slowed down for a while, he might have had to kill the inquisitor and the demon together.
Afterwards, Marcus was very grateful for his life-saving grace.
