Chapter 713 6 The Shocking Truth

Chapter 713 6. The trembling truth

The daylight in Chemos is very bright, which has created an extraordinary green space scene among its cities today, and also made its annual tourism revenue an astronomical figure that many garden worlds can only dream of.

After all, no matter how good a resort can provide enjoyment, how can it compare to the miracle created by a Primarch himself?

Standing in a corridor of Eagle Wing and gazing out, Khalil adjusted his sunglasses that he had found temporarily, and secretly wondered whether Fulgrim had turned the "meeting with him" into a business opportunity to make money in the past ten thousand years.

Intuitively, he thought that Phoenix must have done this, but probably stopped without making much money.

Perhaps he found that doing so was no longer to promote economic development, but to cause the economy of Chemos, which had just started, to collapse directly; or perhaps he realized that this matter would actually bring a lot of trouble.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and then a voice followed closely to his ears.

"Sir?"

"What is it, La?"

"Nothing, sir." The tribune nodded at him. "Just a second confirmation."

Khalil looked back at him, his expression mixed with a little helplessness in amusement. He shook his head, put on his wide-brimmed hat, and began to walk forward.

It was already the second day, and the time for personal affairs had been exhausted. It was time to get down to business. He walked along, observing the scene in the fortress at the same time - for him, this was also part of the job.

Therefore, he refused the quick method of directly reaching the Eagle Wing hangar through the transmission beacons deployed in major cities on the surface of Chemos, and instead took a "Sky Flight" himself, and came here with strange eyes from everyone on the car.

This is troublesome, and it will bring more trouble, but Khalil firmly believes in one thing, he believes that work without field investigation is very easy to fail. Seeing is believing and being down-to-earth are two magic weapons. Moreover, the job he got must be taken seriously.

And he soon discovered the first special thing about this fortress: the materials that make up its interior.

The materials used for the floor, walls and ceiling have changed since three minutes ago, from hard synthetic metal to high-quality ceramic steel of the same grade as Astartes power armor, even mixed with adamantium.

In the lower right corner, a person used a carving knife to carve the former owners of these armor fragments in the same handwriting.

He wrote very seriously and seriously, but always wrote only names without condolences or recognition, as if these people had just retired and went on a long journey, rather than died cruelly in a battle.

Khalil stopped.

"My Lord?"

"Stay away from me, La." The Inquisitor warned him without turning his head. "I want to cross the line a little. Please keep an eye on me, okay? I don't want anyone unrelated to be affected by this."

The tribune's expression froze, and he retreated into the shadows behind him without saying a word, and disappeared silently.

Khalil closed his eyes and began to take a deep breath.

In the past, he did this thing easily without any obstacles, but now it takes a few seconds of preparation to evoke the familiar coldness - its welcome is still warm and cruel, and it delivers all the injustices in the world to his ears endlessly.

Howling, screaming, crying, the cold wind blowing from the bottom of the abyss of human nature made his bones itchy, and the urge to kill quietly arose

Khalil extinguished it and experienced a little bit of what it was like when human nature took the lead.

To be honest, he prefers himself now, but sometimes it is indeed inconvenient. A few seconds of obstacles may be fatal at certain times.

"I advise you to get used to these few seconds of waiting." A voice whispered to him threateningly.

Khalil ignored it and continued. The chill began to spread from his feet. No, from the corner of the world where he "exists".

The spiritual tide set off a raging wave, and in the world that did not belong to the material world, it raised a huge blood-red wave, and easily hit him from behind and drowned him. As soon as it receded and dissipated, its power had deeply affected the real world.

Khalil opened his eyes, heard footsteps, and saw one illusory shadow after another. The black flames ignited their skin, almost breaking it. The ashes hung upside down, and the eyes were as deep as black holes, with two points of resentment and hatred in them.

These white-haired and broken-armored ghosts looked at him silently, and no one spoke, but they all gave him some information in some way, and then dissipated in an instant, returning to the depths of the wasteland to sleep quietly, until one day, a war really came.

They will abandon this peaceful sleep forever without complaint, and instead hold the sword, hold the weapon that kills and hurts themselves, throw themselves into the darkness, and burn themselves.

But it is not the time yet.

Khalil continued to move forward. He did not spend more time to successfully reach the first target point of the day. He did not even meet half of the emperor's son along the way.

Compared to the size of this fortress, their number is too small, so even if the entire auxiliary army of Chemos is trained and lived here together, it will not make this place more popular.

Last night, Fulgrim said to his brother in a drunken state, "It is as quiet as a museum or a cemetery during the day" - his statement is suspected of exaggeration, but the actual situation is probably not much better.

For example, the scene of the first training ground that appeared in front of Khalil at this moment.

It was designed and built according to the standards and habits of the Astartes, there is no doubt about that. All kinds of weapons are available, placed on weapon racks or hung on the walls, and the training armor is also the same. The use is very intense.

It is divided into two floors, the upper floor is probably a target practice field. Khalil can smell the familiar smell of gunpowder, and the lower floor is needless to say. There are people who are demanding themselves on the multi-circle extreme obstacle course, duel cage and martial arts training platform where the training dummies are located.

In Khalil's opinion, the only shortcoming here is the excessive emptiness.

He counted the number of people, and there were only more than 70 people at most, and the total number of the Emperor's sons now is just about half a regiment: 529, with five companies, a regiment commander, two company commanders, and eleven dreadnoughts.

Except for the first and second companies, all the remaining companies were commanded by Fulgrim himself - this was not because he had the power to himself, but because the princes had a common request.

They insisted that the captains must meet the standards of the past legion in terms of skills, quality and tactical reserves before they could be appointed, otherwise they would rather not have a captain.

Stubborn or proud.

Khalil silently gestured to the shadow behind him, and received a breeze in response. He took off his hat and formally stepped into the training ground.

The princes noticed him at the first moment, and hesitation spread immediately. Khalil stopped when he saw the good, and did not continue to move forward, so as not to disturb the daily training of more soldiers of the Third Legion.

However, with the birth of a roar, his wish was officially declared shattered.

"Assemble, line up!" A giant stood on the edge of an artificial shell crater and roared.

He had white hair and a shawl scattered on his shoulders, which had long been soaked with sweat. The coldness brought by the 10,000-meter altitude and the heat generated by his own movement were offsetting each other, and steam was rising from his head and back.

Khalil took a look at him and recognized his true identity. He was the current Second Captain of the Third Legion, Lonatistel, who was ordered to set up an ambush in the hangar yesterday.

He joined the army 150 years ago and patrolled more than 90 times. He wiped out the wandering orcs, cult conspiracies and alien invasions dozens of times. He was awarded the title of "Model". He is the 261st soldier of the Emperor's Children to receive this honor in the post-legion era, and the 48th Second Captain.

Soon, the Emperor's Sons finished lining up. He came to Khalil and saluted, but did not speak.

Khalil looked up at him and fell into thought.

Frankly speaking, he just wanted to come in and take a look and do a field investigation. He didn't want the Emperor's Sons to line up like this, as if they were going to accept his inspection-but the atmosphere was here, and it seemed inappropriate for him not to say something.

But what to say?

He thought, and the second captain glanced at him quickly, and then spoke without looking away.

"Excuse me, do you need help?"

"Yes." Khalil immediately followed up. "In fact, I need it very much, Captain Lonatistel - I'm lost."

He tried to make a joke, but the second captain seemed to take it as the truth after a brief daze. So he turned around and announced the disbandment of the team, and decided to lead him.

Khalil had to accept his proposal with a smile and let him take him to the second destination: the Legion's Hall of Honor.

This journey should not take long at the speed of the Astartes, but the second captain seemed to want to take care of him, a mortal inquisitor, and deliberately slowed down his pace.

He didn't even choose to take a detour and get on the elevator, but walked purely to introduce him to the various facilities in Eagle Wing and which battle brothers the portraits hanging on the wall were.

He knew everything very well, and he could talk about it wherever he went. Khalil listened quietly the whole time, keeping all the captain's words in his heart.

Of course, he was also waiting for another thing.

Finally, when he passed a corner, Lonatistel's footsteps paused for a moment. Hesitantly, he slowly spoke.

Please...you...collect_6Ⅰ9ⅠbookⅠbar (Six\\\Nine\\\Book\\\bar!)

"My Lord--" he said seriously. "-I want to ask you something."

"You want to ask about the relationship between me and your original gene, right?" Khalil asked back with preparation.

Lonatistel was startled, but did not hide it. He just nodded: "Yes, I have no intention of hiding or lying, but that was the first time I saw the original gene like that. That way"

The captain who was eloquent and had a low and pleasant voice like a singer suddenly got stuck, and it was Khalil who helped him out.

"Out of control?"

"Out of control." Lonatistel let out a long breath and nodded again to admit it. "I am extremely curious about this, so I took the liberty to ask you to help me. If this involves some secrets, please refuse immediately and I will forget about it immediately."

"It's not a secret, at least not for you. But this is a long story, and I don't know where to start."

Khalil shook his head, thought for a while, took off his temporary sunglasses, revealing a pair of eyes that were darker than the sunglasses themselves, and pointed at them.

"Please look at these eyes, Captain Lonatistel."

The second captain looked at him in confusion.

Khalil was a little surprised: "Have you not dealt with the Eighth Army and its sub-regiments in the past, company commander?"

"No, my lord."

Lonatistel pursed her lips and answered like this, as if she was a little annoyed and ashamed.

"We have a small number. We have never left Chemos for thousands of years, and we have not been able to participate in joint operations between chapters. I have heard the names of the descendants of the Prince of the Night, but I have not seen them."

Then, it is even more impossible to have seen the Nostramos. Khalil thought.

A voice sounded from the bottom of his heart.

"Of course it's impossible, father, I personally ordered the matter regarding Nostramo. Regarding the matter of the Eternal Night Star, it's better to stay in the dark. In a world where even language is taboo, who has the right to speak again? Go into the light? Besides, we are photophobic."

Khalil put his sunglasses into his coat pocket and thought with a straight face: So, is it also your order to make the demonized fine gold into amulets, armor and weapons to supply to certain priests within the state church?

He got a chuckle and a half-hearted shout.

Khalil narrowed his eyes and brought his attention back to his eyes. Lonatistel's well-hidden embarrassment did not escape his eyes, and he understood that the soldier must be blaming himself.

Not to mention whether he had any reason to do so, in his opinion, this matter was actually very simple. He felt that he showed cowardice when leading the way for a grand inquisitor on behalf of the legion, which had brought shame to the glory of the legion.

Evidence about this can be gathered from his fists, which were unconsciously held behind his back and trembling slightly, his chest puffed out, and his eyes that did not make eye contact with him.

This is a gesture of acceptance, and no matter what, it should not appear on a battle-hardened company commander.

Khalil sighed secretly, and the voice sounded again.

"I have to remind you that you can reveal the truth to him in a gentler way."

Words are sometimes pale, Conrad, I believe that seeing is believing and being down-to-earth.

The voice laughed playfully: "It's up to you. I just hope that this respectable company commander won't have any sequelae because of your sudden attack."

"Captain Lonatistel." Khalil suddenly spoke. "I have no intention of hiding anything from you, but the matter you are asking about now requires a long time of explanation and proof, so I apologize."

forgive? Forgive what? Lona Thistle thought in confusion.

He soon got the answer - his vision was suddenly occupied by a burst of scarlet.

He saw a sea of ​​blood, a boundless sea of ​​blood. It was spreading from behind the judge, completely submerging honor, metal and everything, including countless bones.

He opened his eyes wide in shock and wanted to move, but his feet seemed to be rooted and he could not move at all. He looked at the judge himself again, trying to remind him to stay away with his eyes, but with just one look, he could no longer look away.

A roll of torn and torn human skin fell at his feet. The inquisitor had disappeared, and what stood in his place was a being that he could not describe in words.

Dark flames boiled and roared between its ribs, its body was ferocious and pitch-black, and its eyes were as dead as an empty cemetery at midnight.

Its mere existence filled Lonatistel with deep fear, making him want to turn around and run away. His heartbeat began to speed up, blood was rushing through his blood vessels, his face was pale, and his muscles were locked.

The object slowly cast a glance at him.

"Let me reveal the truth to you, Lonatistel." It spoke like this, bringing with it a deeper fear, and the sound was like a loud bell. "Please stay sane, it's important to us."