Warhammer: Start with a dog

Destiny Steel

Hall of Omens

This magnificent domed hall, constructed in secret from special materials and according to the drawings designed by the Fourth Primarch himself, was now shrouded in silence, with not even the lightest dust floating in the air.

The milky white artificial moon moves quietly on the huge background wall, signaling to everyone the coming and passing of night.

The current director of the Hall of Omens is currently lying in the apothecary's workshop receiving treatment, while the other director who holds the key to this place, his apprentice and acting priest, has also not returned there.

Therefore, to be honest, there is indeed a serious shortage of manpower on board the Destiny Steel, so much so that in the eyes of others, there is no one person on duty for such an important part of the ship and the Silver Skull Chapter.

But this does not mean that the security here is weak, unlike some decks or chapels that no one cares about, given that this place has been inseparable from the subspace and has frequent connections with the subspace since the beginning of its construction, as well as storing a large amount of—— This batch is probably enough to summon a dozen judges or some more ruthless powerful warriors from other places - holy relics and witchcraft books, raw materials, etc., there is a lot of self-discipline protection here measures, and also has multiple safety devices that can be activated from the outside.

All passages on the Destiny Steel were silent.

Most of the crew members who had been replenished from the previous port had taken the precious time to sleep after their duty was over, while others were firmly bound to their posts by their duties - in the noun sense or in the physical sense.

The regular and golden footsteps of the mixed patrol of Astartes and Iron Ring droids echoed inside the empty ship passage.

All in all, this is a time when no one will wander in the passage of the Destiny Steel-Iron Blood, and the cost of wandering will most likely be a gun from an automatic security turret or a robot.

For most people on the ship, this is just another ordinary day.

————————————————————

The silver moon slowly moved to the middle of the lapis lazuli sky.

The door of the Hall of Omens has undergone incredible changes.

The incantations, patterns and colors layered on the door using a variety of different techniques began to change, flow, twist and rotate. Images of a million worlds passed by forever in just a few moments. The ruthless knowledge of the world swarmed in, making this adamantine door, which was made of top-notch materials and craftsmanship, begin to shine under the burden, but it could still persist. Therefore, after the first wave of attacks, it seemed that the invisible attack The author became more and more angry because of his pride and hatred, and the second surge of power was more intense and uncontrollable——

A tiny button was pressed.

The door flashed a light, a quiet and ordinary light.

The door returned to calm.

With the receding psychic roar full of anger and annoyance, the hurricane in the vast ocean was ruthlessly suppressed, just like a human being using a plastic box to trap a beetle flying around the house. It seems simple and easy. There is also an inevitable certainty and overwhelming energy.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Magnus—breathless, weak, dazed, empty, tattered Magnus, suddenly jumped out of the void and knelt down in the center of the Hall of Omens.

He looked scarred and almost translucent, becoming increasingly bright and dim under the silvery moonlight. The edges of his body shimmered with bursts of light, and the whole person looked like an old, worn-out malfunction. A broken fragment of something cast by a projector here, far from the sun.

The special and luxurious armor of the Primarch of the Fifteenth Legion was in ruins, and the fragments of the masterpiece composed of curled ivory, giant horns, strong muscle lines, and thousands of the most gorgeous gold and gem character patterns hung reluctantly on the The portion of Magnus' clothing on his body was also in a miserable state, with only a few strips of cloth stained with glistening psychic blood remaining wrapped around his body.

The giant made of crimson and gold seemed to be immersed in some huge and terrifying memories for a while, unable to get up. A huge scimitar made of metal produced by Prospero was hung on his belt, powered by psychic energy. A huge work made from the victim's skin and other rare materials hangs from a gold buckle on the other side of his waist.

The hall is still quiet, and the mortals are immersed in ordinary dreams.

What a mess, Magnus.

A strange voice sounded, alarming the Cyclops.

He struggled to stand up and tried to gather a few shields or other spells for himself.

The supreme vast ocean did not respond to him. In fact, no matter what it was, wild or malicious, unfaced regret or the power of nightmares - there was nothing, only nothingness in the darkness.

The broken phantom flickered even more fiercely.

I can't use those spells of yours here, so save your energy.

There was some kind of electronic noise mixed into the sound, and the Cyclops immediately recognized that it should be some kind of sound-producing device used to replace speech.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

The Fifteenth Primarch suddenly realized that the gentle movement he had just heard was not an illusion.

A creature that he had never expected at this moment appeared in front of him from a corner of the hall.

The sound just now was the tip of a horny claw walking across the hard ground.

He could probably recognize this creature because he was both a warrior and a knowledgeable scholar.

That's why the whole situation is now getting weirder.

Magnus could no longer believe his eyes at this moment. He raised the scarred Prospero scimitar and assumed an attack stance, trying to make himself look more imposing.

What are you? Magnus asked warily. Who are you?

You can put down your weapon first. - By the way, your attack posture is still full of flaws. The visitor said slowly. The Scarlet King noticed that the reason why it spoke so slowly was because it was still full of flaws. A statement is required.

You can't hurt me with it, and I have absolutely no intention of hurting you. Magnus.

Between the lightning and flint, an indescribable and wonderful throbbing was transmitted along the silk thread to Magnus's illusory form. He realized that it was right, so he lowered the tip of the scimitar, but did not put it away. it.

Who are you? Where are you? What happened next?

That's a good question. The other party replied, But this is my territory. Before asking questions, maybe you should listen to the questions of the owner of this place first?

Then at least let me know where this is?

certainly.

The other party took another step forward, exposing his bright brown almond eyes and elegant and intelligent plush black and white face to the bright silver moonlight.

Welcome aboard my flagship, the Ironblood, Magnus.

Lord Prospero uttered the most horrifying choking sound he had ever known.

Gua…

Wow, Pony is so difficult to write, much harder than I thought...

Are there any monks from the Thousand Sons Legion who can raise their hands to show me your support...

(Must add some energy...)

Broken, Chaos, the title of this chapter is not displayed anyway

Think about it, let me try a more common title.

Can you see the title now? (Why do I feel like the title was stolen by someone? I’m annoyed)