His hands were stained with blood, and a low incense candle was the only lighting in the hut. The power he communicated with resided in the bones hanging on the chains on the wall.
The air is thick with smoke, a layer of putty surrounds the skeleton, and a forked tongue hangs from the jawless skull.
He moved very slowly, erasing the words that appeared on an ancient silver plate. He summoned it three times, forcing the other party to tell three secrets.
In the end, he didn't get what he wanted.
The Warp responded with silence, no answers to his questions, he wanted to know what the darkness that shrouded Armageddon was, but even the daemon was silent, preferring to be destroyed by him.
Just as he finished writing on the silver tablet, he heard the door open.
Suddenly the candle flames flickered, and he put down the blood-stained silver plate, reaching for a copper bowl with both hands. At the same time, heavy footsteps sounded behind him.
"Why so troubled, brother?"
Silence was the only answer, and he listened carefully, his senses being gifted with the ability to distinguish the characteristics of the tiniest sounds.
The rhythm of footsteps, the presence or absence of breathing, and the operating sounds of the servo system within the armor, all of these were as clear to him as the lines on his palm.
"Brother Zaharie."
He didn't look up, just looking at the red water in the bowl.
"It's not like you, being so quiet."
There was still no answer, and the footsteps stopped. Only the slight collision of armor was still there.
Three people appeared in total, and he blinked, trying to guess the identities of the others.
Then he raised his hand and shook off the remaining pink drops on his curved fingers. For people like them, power was an intricate mirror of perception, control, and belief.
At this moment, he should have been suspicious. He should have turned around to see who came in through the door he had sealed with his own hands. He should have reached out and pulled out a weapon to defend himself.
"Brother Miso, I hope this is not your response to the method I chose. If so, you can just say it, and I will tell you that that is the method I chose, and others will also Agree.”
Muttering to himself, he took a black cloth from the side of the bowl and wiped his hands. For some reason, the scars on his knuckles were aching.
"Laman Stephens, I have heard your silence, and all of you need to understand that I did it out of necessity,"
In his mind, he remembered the words he had asked from the tortured demon's mouth before. That guy could understand the future in a way that he could not understand. Maybe this was quite dangerous, but it didn't matter. He believed that he could control it.
"A crisis has emerged between the realm of reality and invisible matter. I encountered those nightmares day after day. The dark star has begun to appear, but it has not yet fully bloomed. We need some extraordinary means to get through this. One level.”
After saying that, he threw the cloth back into the bowl, water splashed everywhere, picked up the gauntlet from the table, and put it on carefully.
"I know you're scared."
He looked down at his palms that were splashed with water, and bent his fingers to adjust their positions.
"Yes, I mean fear... There are many forms of fear, and those are the more common ones on the battlefield. Watching your comrades being knocked down, watching your blood relatives fall into black rage, watching the situation on the battlefield take a turn for the worse. , seeing such a crisis, how else can we react? What else can we feel besides fear?"
He straightened his fingers one by one, and his mind was split into two parts, equating the forcibly snatched words with a more direct and unbelievable result.
"You regard those shadows as monsters and are eager to kill them, but you should not be afraid of what I do. I am not your enemy."
After saying these words, he held his breath.
Why don't they answer?
If you want to take action, why hasn't there been any movement?
"I've always thought that I was this kind of person, not good at words and clumsy in thinking."
He reached for his dagger, the silver blade smeared with blood.
"But at this moment all I ask is that you listen."
Then he got ready, and his two hearts violently pumped hot blood into his body.
"Listen to me and trust me."
Suddenly, he turned around.
"I believe you, Brother Callistarius."
This was another being speaking, but the voice almost scared his soul away.
He turned around and saw only a noble mask, which was in the shape of a crying handsome man with long hair. Golden tears were frozen on a face full of sorrow.
The next moment, the silver blade missed and fell to the ground. He was dumbfounded. When he came back to his senses, the hut was empty, with no one around.
The sound of the dagger hitting the ground broke the silence in the room.
The two hearts in his chest beat like heavy hammers. He stood blankly for a while, and then walked towards the door of the room, his staggering steps causing echoes in the room.
He saw that the warning seal he had personally arranged had turned into ashes, but the door was intact and there was no sign of it being opened, so he reached out to open it and then stopped.
What just happened?
Is it an illusion?
Is it an attack?
Is it a warning?
Why did Sanguinor suddenly speak to him?
In confusion, Registrar Callistarius, an honorary member of the Blood Angels Think Tank and the First Company, sighed softly, feeling that the future was becoming increasingly confusing, especially after the Chapter set off to support Armageddon. This feeling is getting stronger and stronger.
As the think tank of the Chapter, in addition to managing the Chapter's classics and archives, he is also responsible for the divination before the Chapter goes on an expedition.
The results of the divination are not good, but the danger does not come from war. It seems that there is a darker existence waiting for them there, at least that thing will never be green skin——
In order to know what it is, he even does not hesitate to use certain taboo powers - even among think tank groups, he is known for his boldness.
It was this kind of boldness that made him stand out in the "Curse of Sin" boarding operation against the ruined space city. However, the vast majority of soldiers were already at a distance from psychic powers. For someone like him who has a tendency to "play with fire", it is even more difficult. It is easy to be isolated, so his friends are basically intellectuals.
library.
"Oh, I've been feeling restless these past few days——"
After finishing the divination, he chose to meditate in place for a while, but suddenly his personal communication channel was accessed.
"Callistarius the Registrar."
It was the voice of his apprentice Gaius Lecheros. In the static noise, the other party seemed to be waiting for his response.
"What's up?"
"Did it bother you?"
Callistarius looked at the empty dark cabin, and then responded slowly.
"No, just tell me."
"what happened?"
With that said, Callistarius stood up and picked up his helmet from the table.
"It's almost Armageddon."
"Understood. I'll be there soon. Is there anything else?"
"Well...I just received the latest news. We are not the first ones to arrive."
"Oh? Who is that?"
"It's the Astral Knights and the White Templar Chapter. They are both sub-chambers of the Imperial Fists."
Callistarius was stunned for a moment. For a moment, his mind seemed to capture something, but soon he found nothing as before.
"strangeness--"
Confused, he left his room, leaving only the incense slowly dissipating in the darkness——
:. :
