The previous touch disappeared, taking away the fear, replaced by a sense of shame.
The soldier lowered his hands and opened his eyes - nothing was hidden near the ceiling.
The dormitory is the same as before, except that the floor is now a mess.
The scream bounced off the walls, tearing at Arthur with its terror and pain.
His shame forced him to take action.
The soldier climbed from his bunk, awkwardly putting on his boots, and stumbled down the aisle.
The screams came from a hundred meters away from the dormitory.
He rushed to the door, trying to overcome the shame in his heart. His fear of things made him violate his faith in the Empire, and he would redeem himself by bringing comfort and reason to the tortured people.
But when he came to the door of another dormitory, the screams changed.
It began to grow harsh and harsh, choking it for a moment with the terrible damp heat, and then began again with a higher pitch.
It sounded to Arthur like two voices, the screams blending together into a desperate chorus.
He broke through the makeshift wooden door and found his comrade George standing in the middle of the dormitory with his back to him.
He was alone, his shoulders shaking. Arms up, elbows out, as if hands were on his face, both screams came from him.
Arthur swallowed his throat and walked across the floors on both sides to his comrades in the company.
"George?"
he yelled, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, but loud enough for the other person to hear his shouts.
But when he got closer, he saw that George was actually standing in a pool of blood that was spreading.
"George!?"
He shouted again, but composure and will were deserting him, and terror struck again.
Slowly, his former comrade turned around.
In an instant, Arthur took a few steps back and his face turned deathly pale.
He saw that his comrade had torn his own throat open, and his skin and muscles hung on his throat like tattered curtains. Blood soaked his coat and covered his hands.
But his mouth was still open, but no more sounds came out.
However, the screams still did not stop, and the two screams were still made by one person.
The scream now became two opposing syllables that together became one word - death.
This is a frantic and desperate prayer.
George knelt down, his life force was constantly draining from his body, then he raised his hands in front of his eyes, inserted them into his eye sockets, dug his fingers deep and pulled tightly, as if tearing the flesh from the corpse.
Soon his hands were covered in scraps of gelatinous tissue and he collapsed.
"No--"
Arthur took a step back, his eyes still filled with terrible fear.
The worst terrors seized hold of his sanity like a cancer.
Then he heard the clatter of ceramite boots behind him and turned to see the Commissar and the Space Marines.
But the god of salvation came too late. He could no longer feel at ease and could no longer erase the fear in his soul.
The awe he had felt when he faced them had been overwhelmed by the most terrible terror. He stared hard at Yaric's livid face and uttered the most terrible words.
"His eyes."
George whispered.
"It's his eyes that scream—"
After saying that, he pulled out the dagger on his boot at an extremely fast speed and cut the trachea and blood vessels of his throat while Yarick screamed.
This caught Yarick off guard.
However, Arthur, who committed suicide, did not fall, he did not even bleed, but turned to Soshyan.
The window panes on both sides of the dormitory creaked, and then suddenly, the temperature plummeted inexplicably.
The water froze on the glass, forming a twisted crystal painting. At the moment when his head suddenly twisted in a circle, the entire posture of the mortal in front of him changed.
He was now fully upright, with his shoulders straightened, as if he were standing in front of a timid subordinate, and his lips seemed numb with tension, or with a condescending sneer.
More importantly, his eyes turned into black spiral material structures.
"Who are you."
"I am the singer of souls."
he said, his voice echoing through the fissured abyss of the warp.
"And you are the harvest."
"Pretend to be a ghost."
Soshiyang pulled out the Sheng Yan Sword so fast that the moment the sword tip left the scabbard, he pressed the activation rune of the force field.
The moment he drew his sword, he turned to attack, slashing across the shoulders of what was once Arthur.
The soldier's body rippled when the Shengyan Sword cut through him, and his arrogant smile stretched to inhuman proportions.
The smile split the face and swallowed it, and the trembling figure was sucked into a crack in the real space along with the head, like the sticky tentacles of some cnidarian.
Then, the crack suddenly closed, leaving behind a trace of breath, as if it came from every world it killed.
Soshiyang frowned, tightened his gaze, and felt like a hunter the traces left by the energy generated when the other party teleported.
Suddenly, he turned towards the entrance and saw Arthur emerging from behind a group of dull-eyed soldiers, as if stepping out of an invisible curtain.
Tendrils of evil energy twisted around his charred uniform.
His skin was charred, as if he had just jumped through a flame, and his dark eye sockets and bulging face were eye-catching.
However, he still maintained that smug smile.
"This is a traitor."
Arthur did not shout, but Soshyan could feel that every word he spoke was emitting bursts of psychic power, seeping into the surrounding soldiers, like the heat of the sun on the black rocks.
"Back off."
Soshyan activated the gray marrow, and the laser gun aimed at him suddenly wavered.
"You are soldiers of the Emperor!"
Arthur screamed, his energy blast sending the Wavers back to their feet with a shock that even Soshyan's gray marrow could not suppress.
This was the first time he encountered a subspace enemy that Gray Marrow could not deal with.
The power was so powerful that he was shocked.
"kill him!"
All the soldiers opened fire at the same time, the sound like a pair of acetylene torches in an oxygen-starved room.
Thunderbolts as hot as the sun shot out of the overheated barrel and focused on Soshyan.
Under such intense firepower, it was impossible to evade, so Soshyan took a step sideways and blocked himself in front of Yaric. .
Within a second, the entire platoon was pouring firepower on him.
Fierce volleys of laser beams passed over the Terminator armor, carving tiny burn marks into it.
And Yarick, who was behind Soshyan, immediately recovered from the shock. The first thing he did was to take off the grenade from his waist, and then threw it towards the door without hesitation - since the war was opened, He habitually prepared a grenade on his body.
Only he himself knows the effect best.
boom--!
Although blocked in mid-air by psychic energy, the grenade still exploded in time.
While the smoke was still filling the air, Suoshiyang had already rushed forward and pierced a person with the Holy Flame Sword.
Blood seeped from the soldier's pores as he pulled the finely crafted blade from the charred corpse.
Then a bayonet was thrust into his hip.
The Sheng Yan Sword spun around and resisted the attack, shattering the bones of the attacker's arms and cutting the laser gun in half.
