Chapter 316 Change It

The lightning that pierced the sky once again illuminated the lifeless gray earth and ruins.

Rain poured on the torn boundary of nothingness, and bursts of roaring and curling white mist rose, as if the real universe was still reluctantly "rejecting" the arrival of a certain existence.

When "she" completely walked out of the empty void.

The tip of the boots met real matter for the first time, and the smell of chemical combustion evaporated in the air.

Gracefully, she stretched out her slender arms and pushed open the curtain of her appearance. Her waist was wrapped in a shimmering black tights. Some kind of silver metal armor perfectly covered every inch of "her" muscle along the curve. As she began to slightly turn the silver death mask that used carving techniques to preserve the appearance of a howling Eldar woman forever, the ends of her extremely rich, tall and long black hair behind her head also trembled.

The Daughter of War held an extremely long weapon in one hand, with a dangerous alien technology force field blade, and an even stranger weapon in the other hand, with three blades that looked like the afterimage of a rotating blade, forming a hollow three-leaf vortex. Its sharp blade was not poisoned, but it burned with a more bizarre black flame, ancient, deadly and twisted.

In Lufricks's helmet vision, she stood there, and seemed a little surprised for a second.

But soon, as the red gems on her body flickered, the Phoenix Lord, the howling banshee of the Eldar, nodded and began to run quickly towards a certain part of the ruins - it couldn't be considered running, she was so light, so inhuman, when she took a step, her toes didn't even touch the dust on the ground.

She was almost constantly flickering, or dissipating, or sinking into the ground of the ruins like a ghost, to search for the dead souls whose blood her blade was destined to drink this time.

The commander of the Eye of Weeping Blood licked his lips. Each of them now had some of the shiny gems that the Pointy Ears liked to wear in their waist bags. He could feel the desire to swallow those stones that would make a cry into his stomach, which suddenly reminded him of the three days and three nights he was tortured by those bad cousins ​​who handed him over to the Dark Prince after the siege of Terra.

"You can't eat it." Lufricks retracted his thoughts and ordered his brothers, "These spoils must be presented to father."

The sound of cooing and hissing in agreement came from behind their demon skull helmets.

"Sure enough, this 'thing' came exactly as my father predicted. My brothers, my raptors, have you cleaned up all the prey flying in the sky?"

"Coo... Yes, Lufricks, we are all here, Volosha was injured a little, and Zeko was more seriously injured, but according to my father's instructions, cooing and cackle..." The raptor who spoke made a hoarse and unpleasant sound, as if laughing.

"Hiss... These pointy-eared birds are simply walking into a trap. When I jumped from the ambush place and pierced one's back and tore another one apart, I could hear their screams of disbelief...hiss...guh."

"Ave dominus nox!" The Raptor Commander was satisfied with the answer he heard. He nodded, and the thrusters behind him made a humming sound. "Then let me see the instructions written in the next archive file to see what we should do next..."

In the distant tunnel, there were fierce gunfire, bullets hitting stone or metal armor, and power weapons or other weapons clashing, but there was no obvious war cry or insult. Both sides of the battle were silent, but still deadly.

Ramizane and Conrad Curze, who were reclining on the soft couch and slowly recovering their spirits, opened their eyes at the same time in two worlds.

"She's coming."

(*He's coming.)

The black-haired demigod whispered, and there was no guard around him.

This is a temporary excavated secret room in the deepest part of the underground tomb system, which was formed about two standard hours ago.

Although it is called "catacombs", there are only a few "catacombs" in the entire building system. Most of the rooms had their own special purposes ten thousand years ago. The corridors, tunnels and silent defense facilities between them have avoided the storm on the ground and still stay quietly at the time when it was abandoned.

The fourteen raptors of the Cult of the Bloodthirsty Eye and their commander, all seven Fiery Claws of the Eighth Legion here (the First Fiery Claw has only six people as usual) and a whole company (actually ninety-nine, because their captain position is always vacant) of the Origin Regiment's Third Company Space Marines were voluntarily or involuntarily sent to guard the "Soul Hunter" Talos Valcoran.

It is said that after reading these list combinations, the Lord of the Night once sighed some words that no one could understand, such as "You are really popular, look at these wonderful numbers-it is worthy of being the most prominent school in the galaxy after the forty-first millennium." and so on.

As for Talos himself, as the known focus and only target of this attack, and the special bait designated by their Gene Father, the brothers who were worried about him asked him to change into their best set of master-level terminator armor (thanks to the selfless "gift" of the Salamanders), holding Macharion's relic bolter in one hand and the melta gun looted by Dietrian in the other, and carrying his Aulum gold sword - uh - the Lord of the Eighth Legion laughed for three minutes after seeing how they carefully armed him like this - and then made an equally strange request with a stern face, "It would be better to give him a hooded cloak."

Then he began to walk strictly according to the route and direction specified by the Gene Father in the underground tomb passages, defense settings and various halls with an area of ​​nearly ten kilometers and more than ten floors.

"Taros, this originally tragic and tragic complex battle will become very simple and boring, but it doesn't matter. I believe the new result can develop to be no less than the original one - to be honest, I don't like the original one. I don't like the fate that the real Eighth Legion was originally led to." He raised his black eyes and looked at his offspring.

"So try to help me change it. Taros."

Before the battle really started, when accompanying the Night King to watch the simple sensor map, the smile on the face of the Eighth Primarch almost made Taros feel the real fear he had never felt before: it was not the sadness and awe of the end like seeing his father gradually step into death and decay ten thousand years ago, nor was it the helplessness and anger caused by witnessing the chaos and blasphemy in the Eye of Terror and the Iris of Hell, but the pure horror that arose spontaneously and could not resist when witnessing someone weaving their predetermined fate for some truly intelligent beings.

"As you wish, father, Ave dominus nox!"