Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"Faith is a weapon, a weapon wielded for a species that cannot be trusted."

"Father, the people only regard me as a god in order to seek the peace they need in life. To you people who sail in the sky, we are just primitive ignorant natives. But the Baal people deserve the peace that the Baal people deserve. Tell me , you will not threaten it..."

Sanguinius blinked, woke up from the sudden flash of hallucination, and returned to the reality he was currently in. He continued to stand against the door on one side, watching Konrad Curze make a hand sculpture. bone pendant.

To be precise, it was actually some kind of unknown psychic material, similar to milky white bones, but under the influence of Kurtz's aesthetics, it was made into the shape of a skull held up by a pair of gold and silver wings.

The angel savored the message he had just read from the prophecy. He is asking the Lord of Humanity for the autonomous status of Baal's three stars. Judging from the wind and sand in the sky and the extremely splendid imperial giant transport aircraft in the background, that was the day when he first met the emperor.

The sound of chiseling bones was interrupted.

"What did you see?" Curze asked gloomily, his pale fingers clasping the carved eye sockets of the skull.

Sanguinius did not ask Conrad Curze, who had always lowered his head and concentrated on the sculpture, how he could have noticed the prophecy fluctuations at that moment.

"There are some more scenes between me and my father," Sanguinius said, shaking his head helplessly, "But the object of that first encounter has long been replaced by you, Conrad. Besides, the Emperor and I were also there. I’ve seen him in my dreams these days—although I still don’t know which one he is.”

"It's normal to not be able to tell," Curze said, lowering his head again. He was not paying attention when carving, and the sharp scalpel slid at a dangerous angle, "because the Emperor is not there."

This was an answer that Sanguinius had not expected. "I thought Morse said he was there?"

"I think you remember that he did not answer directly." Curze said, "The Emperor was underground in the Terra Palace Mountains at the time, dealing with some necessary matters... Morse would not feel guilty about misleading others. , the great angel of light.”

"Okay," Sanguinius wandered through the halls of Curze, observing the tortured victims bound by chains and hanging in clusters from the heavy black curtains of the zenith.

In order to seek the pleasant silence in the deep, the Blood Marquis removed the vocal organs of each of them. Sanguinius once again confirmed that most of those hanging here were not human.

However, every time he sees these pendants, he still hesitates to speak.

He turned around and said in his usual tone: "What is the Emperor dealing with underground?"

"Mortarion," Curze said hoarsely, "that brother who doesn't like bathing, just imagine the smell..." He shivered from head to toe.

"Has his residence been arranged underground by the Emperor?" the angel asked confusedly, "He doesn't like the sun? But he's not..."

"Yes, Mortarion is certainly not a fungus or a mushroom." Curze said impatiently. "Based on the circumstances, that is not the case."

"...What I want to say is 'He is not you', Conrad." The angel good-naturedly completed the second half of his interrupted sentence. "But where did you learn about the Emperor's movements?"

The blade in Curze's hand suddenly exploded on a corner of the carved white bone. The sharp blade slipped through the original body's finger, leaving a white scratch on the skin, and then stuck into a hanging hanging near Curze's seat. In the bone seam. The hanging man twitched in pain.

Cozz glanced aside and said in a cold tone: "Among my subordinates, it has been proven that some people like to strip off the vocal cords of prey, tie them alive to the table, or hang them from the beams to get fresh flesh and blood."

"Don't change the subject, Conrad."

After the angel finished speaking, he lowered his voice and walked towards Coze from the side of the hall, "I can see that you are in a particularly bad mood today. What happened to you?"

Curze twitched the corners of his mouth: "Leave your soft words to the future Horus Luperkar, Sanguinius."

"We'll talk about it later, Conrad," Sanguinius said, even though he was indeed curious about his future encounter with Horus, and had even imagined many ways to get along with him.

He knew that now, in front of Conrad, who was angrily scratching his head, it was not a good time to speak directly.

"What's the problem? You were making fun of me yesterday," said the angel.

"I was kidding you today too." Cozz glanced upward and met the angel's eyes.

"You just don't want to say it." The tips of Sanguinius' wings were slightly bent. "After you reunited with the army, the first thing you did was to come to Baal to find me. You and I made an appointment to work together to pierce the destiny's trap. A trap, maybe this made me mistakenly think that you trust me enough - to be honest, you haven't even told me what the race of the Son of Muse is."

"That's enough, Sanguinius," Coze bared his teeth, his expression lit up by a fake sourness and resentment, "You noble blood descendants are used to using these pretentious and despicable tricks."

He paused for a moment, as if he was thinking about some comparisons in his mind, and then reluctantly put down the bones in his hand: "My gene seeds can be used."

Sanguinius had actually heard about this. Morse, who has been missing recently, is helping to adjust the fitness of the Night Ghost Blood Marquis's gene seeds.

"but?"

Sanguinius couldn't help but wonder what the side effects might be that made Konrad so unhappy. Could that make the night ghosts of the Eighth Legion grow blood-sucking fangs? Or will everyone never learn to play with a skinning knife?

"However, during the recruitment process, some of my abilities were confirmed to have been inherited."

"Prophecy." Sanguinius immediately understood what Konrad Curze was thinking. "Your descendants can also see the future."

"In the stories of the old world, they can see some fragmented flashbacks." Coates said, holding up the section of the scalpel in front of his eyes, observing his own reflection on the surface of the silver knife, "But I didn't expect Here, their prophetic abilities become even more powerful and widespread."

"You must teach them to control themselves," Sanguinius said calmly.

"They can see the prophecies here." Curze continued expressionlessly, "Here, this world, this galaxy."

"Is that how you knew the Emperor was seeing Mortarion?"

Curze snorted, "Yes. I ordered the recruits to send all the foreshadowings they saw to my flagship."

This task, which cannot be left to others, finally made Curze busy again.

Angel sat down in the chair across from Curze. "You are now the only person in this universe who cannot see the omens, Curze."

Cozz frowned: "So?"

"So you are an orphan worth cherishing." The angel propped up his face with his hands and tapped his cheek near his ears with his fingers. "A midnight angel like no other."

"This makes my entire legion very untrustworthy." Curze said angrily, with no reflection in his dark eyes. "I have to teach them what is true."

Sanguinius' intuition told him that Curze had more information than he was letting on.

It's possible that the problem lies in other dangers of the gene-seed - but it's unlikely that Morse and the Emperor will be wary of the Space Marines' earthly roots.

What's more, Conrad Coates maintains a strange attitude towards life that is both contemptuous and solemn. The issue of gene seeds may not be worth his private uneasiness.

So, could the problem be the prophecy seen by the recruits?

"If you have nothing to do, just continue to daydream, Sanguinius." Curze said, keenly aware of the angel's momentary distraction, and threw the bone-winged head carved in his hand to Sanguinius.

The latter took it in his hand, not knowing what to do with it.

"Daydream? The prophecy is not something I expected," Sanguinius touched the skull in his hand. The bones are smooth, the appearance is round, and the feel is actually quite good.

He closed his eyes and listened as Curze began to flip through the messages sent by his subordinates. There was a steady sound of turning pages that lasted for a long time.

Before the end of the day, perhaps fortunately, another prophecy that continued the first meeting between the Emperor and him came to him.

"You are afraid of me. You are worried that the achievements you have made here will be disturbed."

“I’m talking about love, loyalty and peace, and you’re talking about greatness.”

"am I wrong?"

"Behind your words, I hear the triumph of you as Savior, followed by razed cities, burning fields, and ruined worlds. I hear the elegy of forbidden faith, and the offerings of Am I wrong to mourn the dead?"

The Emperor had no answer.