The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Dietrian made an angry sound from his throat, but did not answer.

"A lot of hells in the distorted subspace! What the **** is that?"

Talos kept pressing.

Finally, Dieterian spoke again, only in a lower voice.

"With all due respect, your ignorance of professionalism makes me very annoyed. The resurrection ritual is not only stopped because of physical awakening. His mind is not familiar with the surrounding environment. We just awakened his body remnants. Let him establish contact with the jihadist machine, but he still lost his mind. The follow-up process of the ceremony is to replenish energy and restore his spiritual sense."

"His...what?"

"Harm, his self-awareness and reasoning ability to respond to stimuli, his conscious perception, as a manifestation of the living spirit."

"You mean his soul, his mind? So, can you speak directly in the future?"

"As you said, we created his brain and body, but did not create his mind and soul. There is a difference."

Talos took a breath of stale air through his teeth and tilted his head towards the coffin.

"I mean he is awake, Dieterian, what did you do after he woke up? You told me he needs to stabilize, but the truth is, he is awake now, what are you doing?"

"The resurrection ritual, as mentioned earlier, synapses enhance pulses, life-sustaining nutrients, chemical stimulants and invasive physiological stabilizers."

"So you filtered maddening chemicals and electrical stimulants to stimulate the body of a wounded soldier who killed him, but he has proven that his symbiotic relationship with the coffin does not follow standard patterns."

"but……"

"He's awake now, he is crazy and wants to rush to your face, you hurt him, Dieterian."

Dietrian thought for a moment.

"I'll deal with it right away."

The bishop of Mecha replied:

"Handle it now."

But Talos was still listening to the screams, which upset him.

"Then hurry up, I don't like the company commander's screams, Dietrian."

"By convention, if you do this before any subject's cognitive function reaches an acceptable level, the resurrection ritual will cease immediately."

"But you said that the resurrection of Macarion never followed the traditional pattern."

"I……"

Dietrian began to doubt his findings for the first time in centuries.

"I......in process."

"You can handle it."

Talos said and walked away.

"Sometimes, Dieterian, it's worth sharing your secrets with someone you trust. Thinking like a mortal is not always a curse."

"Stop! A potential flaw has appeared!"

Dietrian said loudly, still watching a lot of calculations on his retina.

"Your hypothesis is based on emotional guesses. If your hypothesis turns out to be wrong, the damage to the subject's physiological function may be irreparable."

"As if I care?"

As Talos approached the center console, lightning moved along the golden blade.

He glanced at the screen, his eyes tracing the screen, heat meter, lever and switch.

This is what injected poison and pain into his company commander's body.

"Turn this off."

"No, I can't allow this to happen, because such an assumption is flawed, Talos, Talos, have you heard? Please turn off your sword, my master."

Talos did not respond, but raised the sword, while Uthas on the side laughed.

"No!!"

Dietrian made a sharp, weaponized scream, and any mortal in this range would be shocked.

He was incapacitated, but Talos' helmet made him immune to such performances.

He himself has used the same scream as a weapon many times.

"Talos, please, please-no!"

In the painful cry of the mechanical bishop, the long sword was swung down, and an explosion occurred between the energy field attached to the blade and the exquisite mechanical device of the console, throwing hot fragments into the entire room.

The violent shock wave even tore the surrounding cables one after another, all the tools were lifted off, and the servants and staff all fell to the ground.

After a while, Talos stood up in the silent aftermath.

His first thought was strange—Uthas no longer pulled the trigger of the chain axe.

Through the thin smoke, he saw his brother standing by the wall, and Dieterian was standing in the middle of the floor of the room.

The stagnant field is still active with the limbs of the imprisoned fearless, making a buzzing sound enough to make the prophet's teeth itchy.

But the scream has stopped, and the sterile room is filled with activity to some extent because of its disappearance, just like the abundant ozone in the sky after a storm.

Talos watched the towering war machine, waited, listened-his senses were keenly waiting for any change.

As he expected, there was nothing left.

Ten company commander, war philosopher, Macarion, probably has returned to the throne of Eternal Night.

But Talos did not regret it, because this was the only thing he could do for his former company commander.

Dietrian hovered around the destroyed console, spreading out his auxiliary arm to pick up a large piece of smoking wreckage.

"Do not--"

Humanized grief finally appeared in the voice of the mechanical bishop.

"This is unacceptable, simply unacceptable, no no no--"

Talos couldn't help but smile awkwardly.

"It's over."

He was obviously relieved.

"I'm sorry I broke you too—"

"Talos!"

Suddenly, a voice sounded, and the throat sound was loud and loud enough to make the deck rumbling.

At the same time, the door of the sterile room opened, and Cyrion walked in, threw a skull into the air, and caught it every time it fell.

Obviously, it was a skull on his armor, but now the chain was broken, and the remnants rattled on his hips.

He stopped and looked around. Talos and Uthas stood together, staring at Fearless, Dieterian stood with open arms

On the other side, staring like a Legionnaire.

"Talos!"

The magnificent communication language was repeated again.

"I can not move."

Hearing this voice ~www.ltnovel.com~ Cyrion laughed.

"Captain Macarion is awake again? Isn't it worth spreading the word throughout the ship?"

"Syrion, wait..."

Talos whispered, with a sense of caution.

"Serion!"

Fearless then recite.

"You are still alive, it seems that the miracle will never stop."

"It's great to see you again, company commander."

Cyrion walked to the fearless chassis and looked up at the coffin locked in the armor shell.

He grabbed the skull again.

"So."

He said of the huge war machine.

"Where should I start? This is a list of stories that happened while you were sleeping..."