An explosion interrupted the loyal Space Marine's words, punctuated by distant screams.
"This is Talos of the Cursed Echo Battleship. I can't make wisecracks, I can only tell the truth. Your attack has failed, and your attempt to escape our revenge has also failed. As we speak, we are watching you die in our On the auspicious projection, if you have any last words, say them now for future generations, and we will remember them because we are the Eighth Legion and our memories will live on."
"Dirty, hateful traitor!"
The communicator crackled.
"He sounds so angry."
Sirion joked, before Talos silenced him with a silent glare.
"Talos?"
The company commander's voice sounded again.
"Yes, Aeneas."
"May you be damned and deceived in eternal hell."
Talos nodded, though his opponent did not wish to see the gesture.
"I believed I would, but you got here before me, so now
Just die, Captain, and mourn your wasted life. "
"I am not afraid of sacrifice. The blood of martyrs is the seed of the empire! In the name of Guilliman! Courage and honor——"
The link was broken, and in the projection, the runic symbols of the enemy ship were lost in the brutal asteroid storm.
"The cloak of regalia is lost along with all souls."
the female correspondent said.
"Get us closer to the wreckage area and kill whatever's left with weapons."
"Yes, my lord."
Talos rose from his throne, exhausted and pained.
"Our entire conversation was broadcast loudly on board, may the surviving Genesis bastards hear the death of their Captain, and be devastated by the news of their ship being burned.
Be discouraged. "
Afterwards, Talos walked to the edge of the strategy room and carried Ciel's body on his shoulders.
"I shall mourn my brother, who shall call upon me only in times of great need."
All the disturbing matters receded, and Talos sat in the silence of the First Claw weapons room, meditating alone.
After the brutal fighting of recent weeks, he now longed for peace.
Fandror is dead, the Blood Covenant has been destroyed, and now there are only a few lonely ghosts left in the Broken Eagle who are physically and mentally exhausted and scarred, and a dozen weeping warriors who can hardly be called Astartes. Eye raptor.
At this time, although he was reluctant to admit it, Talos longed to have Ciel by his side.
The Char were there when Talos committed his first murder: a shopkeeper selling human flesh killed by a boy on a dark Nostram night.
He stayed with him when the underworld war swept through the city, always swearing, always the first to shoot, the last to ask questions, always confident and never regretful.
The charr is the First Claw's truest blade and the force that forms their backbone in battle.
It's because of him that the other Fireclaws are always reluctant to confront them.
While Talos was alive, Talos never worried that the First Claw would lose a battle.
Although they have never liked each other, brotherhood does not require friendship, only loyalty.
The entire galaxy burned as they stood back to back - brothers forever, never friends, together to the end on the traitor's path.
But now no one is listening.
"If there is a hell in this world——"
Talos covered his head and muttered in pain:
"You're heading there now, and I'm sure I'll see you there soon, brother."
The Cursed Echo is still drifting peacefully, waiting for the pilot to recover and venture back to the Great Eye again.
As things stand, even a short flight could kill Octavia, let alone a voyage lasting months or years across much of the galaxy.
Talos knew only too well that he had never experienced a true warp storm.
The eyes are an unwelcome refuge, even for experienced wizards.
An untested navigator, especially a burned-out navigator, is a liability that he is unwilling to test until there are no other options.
When he closed his eyes he could still see the Eldar.
Their lithe figures danced in the swaying shadows, shadow against shadow - now black, now silent, now silver, now screaming.
The Eldar, he no longer had to sleep to see them.
Although he got the inspiration he wanted, did it also accelerate his degeneration, like some kind of cancer treatment that did nothing but exacerbate the black spread of the tumor?
He'd argued with Valiel in the apothecary a few weeks ago, but the truth was cold - he didn't need an auspicious reading or a biorhythm scan to know he was festering.
These dreams are enough evidence.
Since Ciel's death, they've gotten worse—more serious, less reliable.
But even this is manageable, at least for a while.
The Eldar's dreams were different because they were more than just dreams, he no longer had to be asleep to feel them.
The howls and blades of the mad alien became as real as the walls around him, as tangible as his brother's voice.
What bothered him the most was why he could still see them?
Ever since Hell Iris, when Dream first came he had been shameless of his reluctance to return to the Eye of Terror.
But now, the prediction seems to have come to nothing.
Ciel could not die twice, and he had never felt more relieved about his mistake than now.
Deciding how much to tell others is not easy.
Tell him too much and they won't follow him.
If it's too little, they'll yank at the chains and resist his guidance.
"Talos."
Suddenly, a shadow said at the edge of his vision.
This voice is somewhat familiar.
Instinct forced him to look to the left.
But nothing.
No image, no sound.
As he exhaled he heard the clang of blade against clay, vague as a memory, it could have come from somewhere near the ship; probably in his mind.
"Talos."
Another voice whispered, and something passed across his vision.
He glanced over and saw it disappear.
But he vaguely recognized it as a bat-winged helmet.
"Talos."
He lowered his head and breathed slowly, enjoying the pulsing of the blood vessels in his skull abnormally. The pain reminded him that he was awake.
Some kind of foreshadowing, coming from the energy he inherited from the original body, is also the reason why he can lead the warband so far.
But he didn't like the feeling of his skull being torn into pieces.
"Talos, Nathan Four."
He lowered his head, his aching head.
"What's there?"
"Talos, Nessen Galaxy..."
"Tell me what's there!"
he roared.
"destiny."
A word he hated and feared, the soul hunter shuddered and woke up with his body soaked in sweat.
He immediately summoned a servant.
"How long have I been resting?"
"Thirty-five hours and zero—"
"Prepare the ship to change course."
"Uh... where is it?"
"Storm Star Territory, Nessen Galaxy."
