40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 424 150. Interlude: Angel of Baal and the Eagle of Atonement (7k)

Sanguinius hoped that no one would ever ask him how he felt now.

He just fell, that's all, without feeling.

So let us ignore the smell of burning, the clouds slowly escaping like embers, and the brilliant scarlet crown. Please also ignore the devastation on the ground, such as the ruins of the city, the wreckage of the Titan, the vengeful spirit deep into the palace, the crashed gunships and the burning trenches.

Let us leave corpses, death and darkness behind

It was enough to gaze upon it all, like Sanguinius, watching it all with calm, stoic anger, with terrible hope.

The strong wind was coming towards him, but his vision never wavered for half a second. Those flashes of red light and lightning stung his eyes, but also illuminated his skin.

The golden armor shone, and the Baal man's skin reflected a strange halo under their influence. The blood vessels gradually bulged from his forehead, and his expression began to gradually change.

How could you do such a thing, Horus?

How can you burn all this?

The angel asked these questions heartbreakingly, but he had no time to think more. Fire rain fell from the sky and passed him by.

Those were his sons, enduring the turbulence in the lander, not knowing they were about to face a war that could last eternity. Terra is no longer what it once was, it has long since fallen apart.

It has been destroyed.

The angel calmed down his emotions, smashed through the clouds, and fluttered his wings down.

Both the Ranchi Blade and the Bi Gong Spear were held in the hands. The sadness was fleeting and buried in the bottom of my heart. They began to wait for peace and solitude, that is when they took root and sprouted.

And now, he only has one emotion left, that is, rage - if he were not Sanguinius, but Robert Guilliman or Leon El'Jonson, he would definitely choose to go find Horus now · Luperkar, fight him to the death.

But he was Sanguinius after all, and he could see many things that his brothers could not.

Why did Horus become the architect of this dark apocalypse? He wants to find answers. The more important point is that there are still many people who are in urgent need of his help and their help.

Sanguinius is by no means afraid of death, but he cannot die worthless. If he is destined to die, then he hopes that he can save as many people as possible before he dies.

He fell, fell, fell, and then hurtled into the darkness.

Immediately he was surrounded by cascading visions, as well as the stench of the warp. Countless demons noticed his arrival at this moment, as if they were meeting a natural enemy or a destined enemy. They howled in unison, and the Chaos Gods saw him coming.

As a result, the things in front of Sanguinius immediately began to fragment and flash back, and his vision became a rather deceptive trap.

But the angel couldn't control that much at all. He just followed his instinct and flew in the darkness, letting these illusions do their futile attempts.

He stretched out his arms, and the sword blade and spear turned into tentacles of death at this moment, cutting into pieces all those things that smelled of demons. Their wails echoed in his ears. Instead of resolving their hatred, they only aroused deeper anger.

The vision began to change, and a certain kind of scarlet that he had just seen in the Signus system not long ago glanced at him approvingly from the waves of chaos.

Then, there was that set of promises again. It's always been this: the power to change everything, the power to kill Horus Luperkar.

Will He really give it? Sanguinius knew that He would, but he didn't need to.

It was not his destiny to kill Horus Luperkar.

He remained indifferent, but it was impossible for others to be truly indifferent.

There was a roar of spiritual energy coming from nowhere, completely shattering these illusions. Things finally became clear before the angel's eyes. He saw the people who were still resisting in the darkness - and they saw him.

"It's Sanguinius!" someone shouted, tears streaking down his blackened face. "The Emperor's son has come to fight alongside us!"

Don't shout for me, I'm late. He thought painfully, but suddenly felt another impulse, so he spoke loudly to cover up the bitterness of sourness and powerlessness.

"Yes!" he shouted. "I am coming! Sanguinius is here, loyalists! Sanguinius of Baal is here! For Terra!"

There was light blooming from his wings, illuminating the darkness and stinging the demons. He held out his sword and spear and began killing as he flew. At this moment, whether in the light or in the darkness, someone is shouting those four words.

"For Terra!" Their voices together sounded like thunder.

They were inspired again, which was one of the things Sanguinius did best. He had thought about this before and wanted to understand why he could be so terrifyingly inflammatory. He didn't have an answer at the time, but now, he seemed to understand.

If he is a mortal fighting alone in the darkness, if his ammunition is about to run out, and he is surrounded by the roars of demons - then, at this desperate moment, if there is a figure emitting golden light piercing the darkness , crossing his head, bringing light and promise

Yes, this is the meaning of my existence. Sanguinius thought. I was born for this.

I am a symbol. I represent light, victory, and justice—even though I don't deserve these things, I can make them believe in it.

I can bring hope.

+But your father wants more from you. +

A voice suddenly rang in his ears. It was the spiritual energy of Markado, the palmer. He was the master of the sudden spiritual energy.

+Is father still there? ! +

The angel responded anxiously, completely ignoring the seal bearer's prying into his thoughts.

+Of course he is, at least for now. +Makado sighed. +But I tell you, you must not go to him now. +

+The Vengeful Spirit has changed Terra forever, but there are things that it and the warp sorcery cannot truly touch, such as the Star Torch, and therefore they will find ways to taint it. Go gather a team, Sanguinius. Now is a good opportunity, look to the right, you will see——+

The palmer paused for a few seconds, and the angel was keenly aware of his true inner thoughts at this moment. Psychic communication is a double-edged sword. The bearer can see his thoughts, but Sanguinius can naturally do the opposite.

However, Malcador seemed to have been passively defensive about this matter for a long time, and the angel could only see some superficial thoughts - for example, compassion.

+What did you see? +

+Fulgrim. He had cleared the darkness. The communication equipment nearby has been restored. If you want to raise a large enough team, now is the best time. +

+I understand. +The angel replied seriously.

He remained calm, his expression was solemn, and his eyes were shining like gems. He was wondering why Malcador felt pity for Fulgrim.

He flew in the direction mentioned by the sealer, and nothing could stop his progress. The wings flapped, and the golden light flowed down from the feathers, creating a path of light.

People began to gather spontaneously, whether they were soldiers or civilians, whether they were Astartes or mortals - on this battlefield, they were all the same. They were just humans, nothing more.

Years from now, those of them who survive may say that Sanguinius inspired them.

But that's not the case, at least that's not what Sanguinius would say.

On the contrary, they inspired him.

"Fulgrim!" he called.

Phoenix, who was wearing purple-gold battle armor, turned around at this moment. He seemed a little shocked, but the flaming sword in his hand still had undiminished power and chopped off the head of a demon. The angel descended from the sky, landed beside him, and sighed truly.

"It's good to see you again."

Phoenix looked at him, and it took him a while to answer his words, and he seemed to be struggling.

"Me too." He replied calmly, looking at a loss and with mixed emotions.

He originally wanted to say something, but when he heard the roar of an engine, he instinctively turned around and left. Although it may not be a good idea to say this, the angel did feel at this moment that his brother was trying to escape.

"Fulgrim?" Sanguinius asked calmly, concealing his regret. "Where are you going?"

He thought he had a rough idea of ​​where Malcador's mercy came from. Until now, he had not seen a single Emperor's Son. He didn't know what happened to force those proud warriors away from their father, but.

After all, Sanguinius did not ask about this matter, but once again asked to stay: "Stay, Fulgrim, people need you."

Phoenix stood still.

"Need me?" He slowly turned his head, and at this time, Sanguinius discovered that his brother's white hair seemed a little withered, and there were some traces of tears in the corners of his eyes. "They don't want me, Sanguinius, they want—"

"——Lord Fulgrim!" someone shouted in the darkness. "Lord Fulgrim is here too! Emperor, there is hope for us!"

"."

Phoenix turned around quickly.

He was weeping, Sanguinius could clearly identify that. He silently raised his wings and shed more light. People came from all over the ruins, wrapped in darkness, but their faces were still numb, even when the two primarchs were in front of each other.

War is that thing that cruelly dismembers everything and grinds everything to dust with its never-ending tread.

This naturally includes human nature.

"Adults."

An officer stepped towards them and saluted.

His uniform was rumpled, and his helmet was long gone. His body was filled with the smell of gunpowder smoke and the stench of subspace demons. A light gun was slung behind his back, and two shaking frag grenades hung from the officer's belt.

"Hello-" Sanguinius glanced at him and barely made out the nameplate on his right chest. "—Sergeant Ambis."

"My lord." The sergeant saluted again. "you"

He seemed stuck, not knowing what to say for a moment, like a machine that had suddenly decided to break down on its own. His military rank is not high, but he is already the person in this small team who can best speak out on behalf of mortals.

However, this moment of embarrassment was quickly resolved, and an Imperial Fist walked up to them.

"Lord Sanguinius, Lord Fulgrim, Casp of the 32nd Company of the Imperial Fists reports to you," he said.

Sanguinius noticed that he had not reported his military rank, and the black and gold MK3 power armor indicated something else. The angel decided not to ask about it for the time being, but just nodded to him and got to the point directly.

He knew how the Imperial Fists liked to talk.

"Casp, how many brothers do you have?"

"Sixty-two people." The Imperial Fist said angrily. "Twenty-seven Iron Hands, thirty-five Imperial Fists, we come from various companies, and the original organization has been broken up. They elected me as the temporary commander. We are still capable of fighting, sir. "

"Very good, sixty-two people." Sanguinius put on a satisfied smile of approval and looked at the sergeant again. "Please, Sergeant Anbis, please count the number of people for me and gather the team together. My brother and I have something to say."

The sergeant saluted silently, did as he was told, and returned to the line to start asking the soldiers and former civilians to line up for the count. Casp of the Imperial Fists also left here, and he could see that Sanguinius and Fulgrim still had something to say.

"Fulgrim."

"."

"Fulgrim?"

"Don't be like this, Sanguinius." Phoenix whispered.

"You mean, you don't want to fight alongside these respectable people?"

"I--"

Fulgrim looked up, saw a patient and calm face, and all that disappeared. The truth that he had planned to blurt out without thinking was swallowed into his stomach. He looked around and saw tired faces one after another. After the baptism of war, they should have become numb, but because of him and Sanguinius The existence of the world rekindled hope.

That’s what it feels like. He smiled bitterly. It turns out I was doing something like this at the time.

Suddenly, another voice rose in his heart.

Don't kid yourself and act like you only know it now. You already knew what you were doing - killing hope and sowing the seeds of chaos. You were no longer Fulgrim at that time, just a slave who indulged in pleasure and enjoyment.

yes. Phoenix slowly exhaled a breath and admitted the matter in his heart.

Indeed, it is so. But I am now.

He glanced down at his hands.

Only hands.

"I don't know what you've been through, Fulgrim. I just landed and I'm confused about everything, but I know exactly what I'm going to do and what I'm supposed to do. People need us, brother, as much as we need They, in the face of such a crisis, human beings should unite as one."

Sanguinius said, sheathing the Red Sword and patting his shoulder with his right hand.

"What do you think?" the angel asked hopefully.

Fulgrim nodded silently, he had nothing to say - the voice in his heart snickered, like an audience below the theater looking forward to the next show. He smiled and asked a new question.

"Is it all worth it?" He asked. "Give up getting his forgiveness, then call the god of vengeance and sacrifice yourself. You are a non-existent person, my love. You have never done evil in this life. There is no wronged soul to avenge you, and no wronged person to curse you. name."

"Here, you're a hero. The vengeful god didn't even look at you before he killed my shell. You're still alive and moving around this way only because I wanted to."

Then why are you willing to let me live like this? You even moved me here specifically?

"Because it's more interesting this way." He said thoughtfully, with a weakness that could not be concealed in his voice.

"Such enjoyment is really rare in the world for me. What's more, I have nothing to do now except waiting for the injury to heal. I'm afraid I have to wait for a long, long time to recover. So, why don't I How about I let you do something you want to do during this time? I have nothing to do anyway."

Fulgrim slowly closed his eyes.

It seemed to Sanguinius that he was thinking. In fact, he was questioning a god.

So, when will you show your fangs?

"I don't know what you mean, my love."

When will you rewrite this drama according to your own wishes? You can take away my corruption, my addiction, and even turn me from a monster back into a human being. You can also give them back, so that you can win again.

"No, no, you have some misunderstandings about me, my love." He suddenly became serious. "I don't need to 'win' something, winning is what other people are after. To me, it doesn't matter."

"I am the god of love, pleasure and evil - I know what I am because I know what I want."

"In that world that no longer exists, I carefully planned to make you fall and become my gem. But I always like the new and hate the old. You are indeed a gem, but I am tired of you, my love."

"This is indeed a drama, but how can I know where it will go? You are the playwright, you are also the director, makeup artist and actor. From the beginning to now, I have never interfered, I have only given you suggestions and decision-making power. It’s still in your hands.”

"I gave you all free will, and all your actions are decided by yourself. And now, even the stage scenery has been set up for you. Every step you take is unknown to me, so wonderful How could I suddenly interfere with your enjoyment?"

What do you want?

"I just want to see you become a hero, or become a monster again." He whispered quietly, gently, even lovingly. "That's all, my love."

hero? I?

Fulgrim opened his eyes, and the image of Sanguinius was reflected in his violet eyes.

I'm not a hero.

He looked at his glorious brother and said in his heart.

I am a reflection, an echo. The meaning of my existence is to provide you with pleasure. I am a toy that should not exist, and you are my master.

You have used tools to take me apart a long time ago. You have seen every detail and part inside me. You know where to add what you want, and you know how to change me.

I can't even exist much longer, you don't have much power left to keep me going and keep me moving, I can feel it.

"Yes, indeed," He said approvingly. "But I will try my best to let you live a little longer. One Terra hour, two Terra hours? I will try my best, my love. You know, I am always very curious."

But if all those things were taken away

"I've already taken it."

Phoenix held his sword deeply.

If I make a mistake, I will definitely make up for it, apologize, atone, and do everything I should do, just like the oath I once made to my heirs.

I'm not a hero, I'm not a monster, I'm just Fulgrim.

"That's right!" He exclaimed. "So, do what Fulgrim should do, my love!"

Phoenix raised his sword, and Sanguinius suddenly also drew his sword, his expression changed. Fulgrim turned around and slashed, and the bright blade of the flaming sword illuminated a pair of violet eyes, and also illuminated a group of demons leaping out of the darkness.

Blood splattered, and people quickly entered the fighting state without any hesitation or doubt as to why the demons suddenly appeared. On the land of Terra shrouded in darkness, this has long become the norm.

No one knows how many there are, no one can make a complete count, and those few who know the answer won't do it.

Phoenix also knew the answer, but his answer was not obtained through legitimate channels. His answer came from beneath his appearance and from the power of chaos buried deep in his bone marrow.

The power of subspace is terrifying, but also great. It can even make Phoenix understand one thing the moment the demons leap out - this battle will be his last.

"What would you do?" his god asked. "No one will remember your achievements, they will only be counted on his head. This is the last time of your life. Will you waste it here in a battle destined to be futile?"

Phoenix didn't answer, just waved his sword.

His swordsmanship stance made Sanguinius feel a strange elegance - as far as he knew, it had been a long time since the Chemos had such a formal stance, but he didn't have time to think about more. many.

There was rolling thunder quietly in the darkness, and a demon emerged from the ground.

Its standing posture is very strange, as stooped as an old man, but it is five or six meters tall. The blue skin was dotted with many bones. He held a long staff in his hand, and two scarlet-horned eyes stared at them from it.

Rolling torrents poured from its shadow, and countless screaming blue demonic fires rushed out of it, followed by flying monsters that looked like headless sharks.

The demonic tide rolled in, and its appearance and quantity were enough to frighten anyone, but it failed to frighten Sanguinius in the slightest.

"I'm going to kill it." He said calmly, his wings already raised.

"Do not."

Phoenix gave a negative answer. The high temperature of the flaming sword burned a blue demon throwing flames. It screamed and tried to retreat, but was decapitated by a sword.

"brother?"

"Let me do this," Phoenix said, striding forward.

Sanguinius's eyes suddenly blurred, and he found that the figure of the Phoenix had dissipated in place. At the same time, he smelled a very strong stench coming from the subspace. The angel's pupils shrank and he subconsciously looked in the direction of the demonic tide.

He saw the flames.

Genuine flames spread from the body of the flame sword that can emit high temperatures. The flames stung his eyes. Although they killed the demon tide, they also made Sanguinius feel uncomfortable.

How could this be?

He immediately vibrated his wings, flew up quickly, and rushed towards the demonic tide. However, he heard a piercing scream the second he took off. The demonic tide began to dissipate. Sanguinius looked intently in the air and saw the phoenix stabbing the demon holding the long staff through the chest with its sword.

He sprinted away.

"Brother!" Sanguinius held the sword and spear tightly, landed not far from Fulgrim, and asked loudly. "What happened? What did you do?"

Chemos' phoenix didn't answer, he just looked at Sanguinius. The demonic tide is burning, the flames are rolling, and the stench of subspace is so permeable that it is difficult to breathe.

Then, his face began to dissolve.

Dissolution in the true sense - the flesh cruelly turns into a viscous liquid and slowly falls, hitting the ground with a hissing sound and splashing into deep pits one after another.

In just half a second, the face had changed beyond recognition. Sanguinius looked at everything in front of him in horror, but suddenly heard Fulgrim's voice.

Phoenix didn't open his mouth, but he still heard.

"I'm very sorry."

Fulgrim of Chemos said, and then he fell to his knees, his body hissing in the flames. In just one breath, he disappeared, and the last trace he left in the world was that There were only sword marks on the chest of the blue demon who was walking toward death.

What exactly is going on?

Sanguinius had ten million questions in his mind, but he could not ask any of them.

All this happened so fast and suddenly, even for the original body, there was no way to understand it. But he could hear the sadness, guilt and nothingness contained in Fulgrim's last words, pure nothingness.

He stood there in silence, not knowing how to react. People came from behind him and began to look for traces of Fulgrim.
-

"Where shall I put you?" He asked.

From the light, He stretched out a hand.

Slender and fair, but with no skin, only muscles and nerves, and even white bones exposed in some places. The traces of injuries from the blade were very obvious on the mutilated arm. The palm that had lost five fingers could barely hold a teardrop-like gem.

It is transparent, without any color, as if it will disappear in the next second.

This hand stretched out towards a dark purple round platform, with six layers of rings placed on it, and six different words engraved on it in ancient Eldar script.

"It seems that none of this suits you." The god muttered to himself. "In that case——"

He drew back his arm.

"——Just stay by my side, my love." He said with a smile. "Let's see how long your vain deeds can spread in their mouths?"

The gem didn't answer.

　If you write 1k more, it will be the same 9k tomorrow.

　　

　

(End of this chapter)