God Emperor’s Angel of Death

The whispers continued, but a chorus of soft voices replaced words and laughter, and everyone’s ears seemed to be covered with a high silky mist—even through The sound si si is distorted.

Valiel has been listening for nearly half an hour, his accidental interest has become keen attention, and soon it has become concentrated attention completely.

Septims looked at Primaris Apothecary more often than at the holographic projection. He noticed that Valle's pale lips never stopped shaking—he tried to translate those unfamiliar words in his mind.

"My lord--"

Septims tried again, but was interrupted by a raised fist.

If he speaks again, Valier is likely to come over.

"Dietrian."

After several heartbeats, Valek spoke up.

"What's wrong? Skinner, what do you hear from Spirit Race's voice?"

"The game has changed. Let me go to the ground of Nathan Six."

As soon as this was said, Dieterian's spectacles immediately rotated and refocused in the eye sockets.

"I take a negative action against the procedures that completely violated Talos' orders and plans, or require you to submit sufficient reasons."

Valle didn’t answer immediately and was still upset Listening to the Spirit Race language, Septims thought it sounded like some kind of song, sung by people who wish no one would hear their voice.

It was great, but it still made him get goose bumps.

"The game has changed."

After one minute, Valer repeated the previous words.

He turned to the humble podium, and his cold blue eyes scanned-cut, but saw nothing.

Ditrian was indifferent to Valler's whispers in the distance.

"I reiterate my opinion, if you want to modify the terms, it becomes a requirement, then provide a sufficient reason, otherwise you have no right to give orders."

Valer finally focused on something—specifically, Dietrian with a skull face half-hidden in the folds of his hood in a red robe.

"Spirit Race——"

Valle whispered:

"They whispered their prophecies. The eighth Legion in the subsequent several They bleed mercilessly in decades, do you understand? They don't chase us because Talos's heart is screaming...They curse our stupidity, they need to cut off the unneeded future from the chains of fate."

Ditellian made a falsely aborted sound, equivalent to snorted contemptuously.

"Enough, Xenos' witchcraft is irrelevant, and Xenos' superstition is irrelevant. The most important thing is when I receive the order."

Valel's gaze again Turning to the distance, he listened to Xenos singing in their whispers.

"That's it."

Primaris Apothecary blinked and stared at the bishop again.

"You don’t understand, they are trying to prevent some future...something that hasn’t come yet. There, Talos leads the eighth Legion against their dying species, and they sing songs. It’s like the children praying, hoping that God will have mercy on them. Did you hear it? Are you listening to what I said?"

Septims stepped back and gave Primaris Apothecary one Narrow road.

Valier walked over and stared at the sitting bishop. Septims had never seen Valier such a high temperament.

Primaris Apothecary is almost telling something about gnashing teeth.

"They are trying to kill a future that they are afraid of! Something they don’t allow! This is a huge risk for them, so they drive us to a dead end, using ghosts The boat they were driving was chasing us! That's what they wanted Talos to die."

Dietrian repeated the negative voice.

"Everything you say is purely based on speculation in foreign languages."

"What if they are right? The Prophet of the Eighth Legion will rise at the end of the Dark Millennium , And let Spirit Race bleed, which is far beyond what their declining population can bear! Damn, you are blind to everything outside of work, can't you hear what I say? Listen to me, you heretical warlocks, In the future they saw, the Prophet destroyed their Craftworld!"

Ditrian had to admit that he was trying to make a decision.

Talos once asked him to take a series of actions to let the people and cargo on board leave safely, but this Primaris Apothecary put forward a convincing reason-even if that reason cannot be attributed to practicality for the time being And probability.

"To deal with the probability of this ship surviving a direct battle with the enemy fleet, you need to perform calculations that few biological minds can understand. I just want to say, you know, Our chances of winning are not great."

If he could smile sincerely, instead of his face as a natural by-product of a metal skull, Dieterian might grin at that moment.

He is extremely proud of how casually he is.

But Valler was neither moved nor amused.

"Adjust the gear that makes a noise behind your eyes. If Spirit Race is so afraid of this prediction coming true, it means that Talos may survive this war, and we have a chance... …My brother’s destiny is by no means to die tragically in this worthless world. I intend to give him a chance and let him seize this opportunity."

Dietrian’s indifferent appearance does not even have Change.

"Talos’ last order is still valid. This container is now the Gene-seed repository for more than a hundred eighth Legion soldiers who died in action. This genetic material must reach the Great Eye. This is my opinion Talos’ oath, I swear a promise."

The last sentence made him very uncomfortable.

"You should run, but I won't."

Valle turned to Septims.

"Number seven."

"My lord?"

"Get your gunboat ready and send me off Nathan Six."

Just as Valle announced that he was leaving the shuttle, Ottavia was doing—something she hadn't dared to do for a long time—using her innate talent to try to see the outline of the subspace,

It took a long time for her to calm her nerves, and then, risking being seen by unnecessary beings, closed her eyes and untied her headscarf.

The rest didn’t take much time. In fact, it was almost very easy—similar to the feeling of falling halfway from a difficult climb.

Ottavia was once the Eurydice of the family. She may not have been born with a strong navigator bloodline, but her experience on the temperamental but determined ship of the eighth Legion has honed her. Skills possessed.

As she stared at the endless black tide, she couldn't help wondering where she and Septimus were going, and how they could escape the fate of entering the eye of fear.

This kind of thinking doesn't seem to be as pessimistic as before, and she doesn't know why.

Seeing the sea of ​​souls is like opening her third eye—as simple as she knows that some navigators will let the spirit enter the subspace, but she does not need to enter.

Her father can only see the subspace with three eyes open. She never knows why, they all have their own personal habits.

When she saw it, she just watched the ebb and flow of the semi-formed void with mysterious eyes. The shapelessness is like a tide, and the shapelessness is like a snake.

Shamans and witches from the primordial era of ancient Tyra would think that this is no different from their ceremony spying on mysterious hell.

But when she was searching, she couldn't help holding her breath every time, until her beating heart and painful lung forced her to breathe again.

She realizes that on a certain logical level she is projecting sight through the evil subspace, and may even project fragments of consciousness into space-but Ottavia doesn’t care about this concept .

The important thing is what she can find with her second vision.

Not long ago, they ran again and again in the Spirit Race blockade, following the path of least resistance across the tide, she did her best to guide the echo of the curse and ride the wind and waves.

until now She was caught between the two states, looking at the fractured subspace, feeling her hands on her swollen belly.

Now, she is free from the pressure of navigating in the subspace and can watch it freely.

Ottavia stared tighter, her gaze stretched deeper, past the black shadow beyond the star torch light, looking for any light source in the conflicting clouds.

She started to see what Talos did for the first time.

The collision of demonic substances was torn apart by brutal wounds in front of her eyes, infiltrating each other.

She can hear her name in the stormy sea, a whisper, a scream, a wailing...

Ottavia pulled herself back and opened her eyes .

Subspace is always changing continuously, and it is reactivated within a few hours after the first scream.

However, now she is preparing to guide a strange ship into an unnavigable field.

The navigator put her bandanna back in place, put the ponytail back, stretched out on the uncomfortable throne, trying to relieve the pressure on her back.

She thought about the attendants standing outside the door. They must be crowded in the narrow corridor.

Missing Septimus with a detached attitude is a painful thing in itself.

More importantly, no matter how unwilling to admit it, even to herself-she wants Septimus to be with her.

How stupid to fall in love in the darkest galaxy, in the darkest corner.

When Ottavia moved in her seat, her eyes widened from the sudden shock, because she had just received a news.

This news was sent by Septims, it was short, but it made her heart fall to hell.

After that, she slowly put a hand on her belly, feeling the new life move in her body.