"Everything goes wrong."
Typhons stood in the ceremonial temple of the Terminus, watching calmly as the Dark Eldar warships circled in the distance, like sharks carved from black crystal and malice.
Suddenly, a stinging pain crawled up the spine of the company commander of the Fourteenth Legion like maggots gnawing at the bone marrow, pulling him out of his gloomy thoughts and returning him to his previous state.
It's a unique thrill, a feeling that can only mean one thing -
His loving father was urging him.
He turned around and looked at a circular building in the temple. It was a real wooden church, with gnarled tree roots wrapped around it, just like the stone in the main hall.
On both sides of the temple are owls carved from rock and mud. There is a large concave chisel on the side, like a rotten wound. Mud and stones are scattered on the ground. In the middle is a toad. The stone on its body is bigger than a person, and its smooth face is smooth. There were odd marks, a curly mark covered with yellow moss.
A shining trickle flowed from it and splashed beside the bulging mound.
When the water flows through the veined mud, it smells salty, and there are a lot of flies and insects, and the buzzing sound makes the air tremble, and fat flowers with carrion color are piled under the mound. Filled the empty space in the middle.
The air was filled with thick smoke and the sour smell of rotting vegetation.
Dirty Nurglings crawled out of the big hole dug in the hillock, laughing at each other. The hard roots between the two holes were covered with dense oval-shaped scabs. There seemed to be something in the tangled rotten plants, a kind of greasiness. The miasma seeped out from inside, and when the light came in, the air became more and more suffocating and smelly, and the air seemed to be buzzing with thousands of flies.
At this moment, a burst of bright light burst out from the holographic display. It was a frigate that was shattered. The remaining clouds spread into a perfect sphere, and then its particles were swept away by the churning spiritual energy flow and scattered.
But Typhonse's attention was completely focused on the ceremony.
With the murmurs of the Plague Acolytes around him, a series of concepts flashed through Typhons's mind, and then he refined them into navigation coordinates.
Found!
Typhons opened his eyes suddenly, and his eyes with burning green flames looked at the raging hurricane rolled up by invisible energy, twisting like a tumor in space.
His rotten heart beat violently, and he found the location of Isa's daughter!
"First Captain, we should inform the Primarch."
The viscous voice of Newcraan Lotis sounded behind Typhons, but he only responded with a contemptuous laugh.
"Didn't you notify me earlier?"
The two of them were now standing in the trembling bridge of the Terminus. At this time, a dense volley of light spears streaked through the observation window of the bridge, like a dazzling wave of light.
The Terminus carries a glorious history. In the past years, it served as a vanguard in the expedition fleet of the Human Empire, opening up territory for the Great Expedition and creating a prosperous age for the empire.
But now, it's just dead wood in a rotting mire, given a shameful fate.
The Plague Fleet has been engaged in a full-scale battle with the Eldar's combined fleet, relying on Commorragh's own defense facilities - although part of it has been destroyed by the raging psychic storm, the Eldar and the Plague Fleet are evenly matched and even have the upper hand.
"First Captain, what I mean is that we should wait for the Primarch's response and instructions."
Typhons's words from Newcraan Lotis were completely dismissed as farts. He was smiling as he recalled the joy of finding the daughter of Isa.
His efforts bore such fruitful results at such a fortuitous moment, and Typhus felt that his place in the Great Song was rising, and that his god was a truly loving God who would surely reward him with unparalleled rewards.
"Then just wait here."
"First Company Commander, I don't think I need to remind you whose orders everyone in the fleet listens to."
Typhons turned around suddenly, two green flames igniting behind the dirty eyepiece of his helmet.
"We only listen to our loving father!!"
With the sudden burst of rage from the Lord of the Destruction Flynest, the surrounding enslaved crewmen groaned together. Those mortals were locked in their positions, and their bodies would be used to provide fuel for the surrounding engines.
Those who were dying, or whom Typhons considered useless, were left on the lower deck, where they huddled in the darkness, waiting for the last feverish moments of their lives.
"you--"
Behind the twisted helmet, Newcraan Rotis also let out an angry growl, but then a voice washed away the anger in his soul.
"Lord of the colony, the original body has recovered, and everything will be done in accordance with the wishes of the first company commander."
After humming lowly, Newkeran Lotis was too lazy to say anything else.
Typhons noticed the change in the other person's attitude, so he guessed that someone must have said something to him, and stopped talking to this "deputy".
The first step was accomplished, so he turned his intellectual focus to the next step.
Typhons turned to the rune tablet on the arm of the throne, his fingers clicking sharply on the ivory keys.
"Navigation, change course, engines full speed ahead."
The crew members responded with crisp confirmations in unison as they carried out the order. The engines of numerous battleships roared around the Terminus, its plasma drives pushing it toward a turbulent, lightless tangle.
The main body of Commorragh expanded in the observation screen, slowly submerging the entire view screen in its roiling malice.
But on the route to Comoros, there is still an obstacle that cannot be broken through, those damn alien warships.
The road ahead must be cleared!
Streams of dark energy slammed into the Terminus, her void shields burning, lighting up the night sky with flickering flames.
The attacks came from all directions, orchestrated with a coordination unimaginable to the human mind, and the cruisers and frigates surrounding the Terminus retaliated, unleashing lance, macrocannon, and nova cannon fire, raining munitions on all targets, but Not a single hit.
The Eldar's small battleship quickly disappeared into the void, then appeared hundreds of kilometers away and fired at the fleet again.
Suddenly, the bridge alarm blared, the crew's tentacles hurriedly shuttled between the consoles, and the Terminus's iron bones groaned and creaked in the violent ripples of space - the aftermath of the Eldar pulse cannon.
Apart from a sudden feeling of hunger that invaded his mind unpreparedly, Typhons barely noticed the approaching ships until they opened fire in unison.
The bridge shook from the attack, and Typhonse grasped the arms of his throne with his hands.
"Steady the shield!"
"Master, the energy threshold of the shield is close to the critical point!"
A crew member yelled in response, his half-humanoid, half-tentacled upper body leaning over the monitor, and reading a manila note written in corpse fluid that slipped from the mouth of a servitor.
Typhonse heard the tension in the crew's voices, as clear as if they were etched in the air with invisible ink.
