It was a scream—
A terrible, terrible scream.
In his hazy vision, Konke saw a crack in the air, as if struck by lightning.
The stale, lifeless air seemed to shimmer, as if a hot mist had suddenly appeared in its center.
Konko managed to activate his throne, the datalink stretching across his loose skin, but it took time, and at the blast door beyond, all the armed guards were dead, their bodies scattered behind the open partitions.
Something moved around them, shimmering.
They flew across the bridge at a speed that the eye could barely follow, moving from one side of the console to the other in lightning speed.
Konko watched paralyzed with fear as the bridge staff seemed to be chopped into pieces by the flow of energy.
Limbs were separated, throats slit, chests slit open.
Blood and screams filled the command deck.
Suddenly, the pain and screaming that tortured Konko seemed to have disappeared.
He panted, his bony fingers groping for the station-wide alert button on the armrest of the throne.
"Seal the blast door!"
While he was yelling, no one was listening, and everything around him was in chaos.
The crew is being slaughtered.
When his vision became clear, those "lightnings" had turned into tall, slender shapes - they were wearing bone-white armor and strange masks, with scarlet hair flying behind their heads, like splashes. of blood.
These monstrous forms moved with speed and grace unmatched by humankind, slicing desperately at the desperate bridge crew with their meager swords and spears.
In the blink of an eye, they had eliminated the safety assessment team and began attacking the deck officers, platform operators and ship analysts.
Seeing his subordinates being cut and dismembered, and the mechanical parts mixed with fuel and blood exploding, Kangke's aging hands finally reached the station-wide alert button.
But just like before, he found himself frozen, unable to move.
He was tense, his jaw clenched, a helpless growl forming in his throat, but his body simply wouldn't obey.
It was like the sleep paralysis he had experienced during his long journey through the Warp - the will still functioned, but it was as if it had been trapped in a stone statue, completely unable to respond to his will.
He struggled to pray to the emperor, his glasses frame wet with sweat.
Finally, the last of his crew died.
There was a sudden silence on the bridge, and the sound of blood dripping on the deck could even be heard before the cogitator whirred and lost power.
Only one human remains alive, sitting on a throne in the center of the domed chamber.
A war wizard immobilized the old human body with psychic powers.
Then she slowly climbed up the steps of the podium, the ancient witch's sword dripping with blood, and the white edge of her robe was stained with blood.
When she stood in front of this human, the human was also looking at her, but his eyes were aimless.
Veronica stared into his eyes for a moment, usually she didn't get much from a species like this - there was basically nothing to find except hatred and fear.
As always, their thought processes are extremely simplistic, and Veronica finds no pleasure in destroying them.
Or maybe she never has.
As a young Eldar, Veronica spent most of her time as a member of the Black Guardians, roaming around the Eye of the Cursed and blocking the horrors that fled within.
She didn't even know the significance of the Great Prophet asking her to participate in this task. She had never had any special thoughts about human beings - neither hatred nor interest.
However, now is not the time for mercy.
Using her pale and slender fingers, she tucked a strand of silver hair that fell on her forehead behind her ear, and Veronica reached out her hand.
She could feel the old human shuddering with the longing to be free of her, even as he fought with every fiber of his being to escape the helplessness of the sorcery.
The veins protruded on the high neck in the straight collar of the military uniform, and sweat covered the wrinkled forehead.
Then, Veronica gently touched his forehead with two slender fingers. She needed to obtain the orbital station's fire control key from this human's head.
The moment she was relieved, all kinds of emotions filled her will.
Fear, anger, shock.
She brushed past them, searching for what lay beneath.
Her own consciousness quickly passed through human memories, looking for the cornerstone of her soul.
She felt a mixture of pain and pride as she watched him sit on this throne for the first time, as the red-robed chanting machine beings attached datalinks and cables to his flesh.
She dived deeper.
She saw him on another ship, a capital ship of some kind, clinging to the railing around the throne, surrounded by flames and covered in blood. .
This was the most humiliating moment of his life and his most tragic failure.
She went deeper.
She saw him standing in a splendid cathedral, surrounded by guests, and a beautiful woman opposite him. The priest was loudly praising the Lord of Mankind and declaring the sanctity of their marriage.
He is young, his body is no longer shriveled, and excitement and joy fill his mind.
There is another kind of...
Veronica was a little hesitant about this emotion, like a child looking up at the sugar bowl on the cabinet. It may be risky to obtain it, but the wonderful taste is irresistible.
What is this emotion?
Is this the love mentioned in books?
A certain sound suddenly reminded her.
Veronica immediately concentrated on guarding her consciousness so far, she had gone too far in this man's memory.
She suddenly discovered that although some things were forgotten deep in their hearts, they were never lost.
Honor, responsibility, and love.
This seemed to be his core, the root of his existence, and the reason he continued to live and breathe - even if he had forgotten.
Everything seemed very long, but in fact it was over in less than a second.
Along with Veronica's thoughts of a permanent end, the web of reality erased his existence.
Immediately humanity slumped on its throne, dead.
Veronica removed her fingers.
For a moment, she looked down at the vacant-eyed corpse.
For a moment, she wondered if he had ever imagined the violent and bloody path he would take when he still knew warmth and love.
"War witch, don't be too indulged in the souls of other creatures, that is harmful."
A solemn voice sounded, and Veronica quickly turned her attention away from the human corpse.
She turned around, looked at the blood-stained bridge, and saw a strong figure emerging from the Shura field - wearing dark copper-colored ancient armor, holding a spear, and black fringed hair flowing down from the back of his head.
Lord of the Howling Banshees, Jarn Zhar.
"What remains of these monkeys is violence and ignorance. Their souls are like poor spirits. Drinking them will only cause headaches and nausea. Only the depraved will try to get nourishment from the flexibility of these monkeys."
The Banshee Lord's voice sounded admonishing, and Veronica, who had obtained the orbital station's fire control key, quickly lowered her head.
"yes."
Outside the orbital station, a small Eldar battleship is quietly attached to the metal shell. It has a filled holographic shield and is covered with the most powerful psychic veil, so it can approach the orbital station quietly. Avoid all detectors.
The core of the orbital station has been defeated, but their number is far from enough to occupy the entire orbital station. In fact, Veronica can hear the sound of knocking on the sealed blast door in the distance, which is more humans seeking to enter.
They were running out of time.
Veronica knew that, despite the Great Prophet's efforts to loosen the chains, fate's hand was still tightening like a noose around their throats.
If she didn't succeed here, it wouldn't just be her personal future that would be lost.
The entire Arkworld will be in crisis.
"We have to be quick."
