Chapter 734 26 Interlude: Precious Future (I)

Chapter 734 26. Interlude: Precious Future (I)

It took Fulgrim four days to wake up and walk. Moreover, even so, he could not walk naturally. At this stage, he even had to rely on crutches or the help of others to walk.

In the final analysis, what Nurgle did to him in His garden could no longer be simply attributed to "harm", it was more like "transformation" or "reformation".

Considering this, Belisarius Cawl said frankly that the biggest miracle was that he could survive, let alone walk naturally, and live in his original appearance.

"When we found you, you looked almost the same as a corpse, my lord." The ruling sage who was about to be promoted again said so, and then bowed slightly. "Please forgive my frankness."

Phoenix smiled bitterly and shook his head - not to mention that he actually didn't care about this matter at all, even if he cared, he would not be angry with Cawl. In the past four days, he had read through most of the post-event reports despite Sanguinius's obstruction.

Belisarius Cawl played a great role in this battle. He single-handedly destroyed most of the vines, cleared the surface and rescued the survivors, and his efficiency was extremely amazing.

Without him, it would be impossible for 52% of the Chemos people to survive. Although this number was reduced a lot in the subsequent large-scale epidemic, Cawl had done everything he could, and in any way, he owed it to Chemos.

"More like me?" another person asked curiously. "Did you take pictures at the time? I want to see."

His words made the small conference room fall into silence instantly-Fulgrim frowned, Ferrus Manus looked like he wanted to sigh very rarely, Sanguinius smiled stiffly, and Belisarius Cawl made a strange grunt.

"What's wrong?" Khalil, who was still wearing a hospital gown, spread his hands to them in confusion. "Did I say something wrong?"

A hand covered in golden armor reached out from behind and gently rested on his shoulder, and the tribune La Endymion slowly spoke.

"Please stop joking for now. This is very important to us - this is a serious occasion, don't you think so?"

"But I'm not joking, La."

The tribune was silent for a moment, and suddenly asked: ".Is this sentence also a joke?"

Khalil smiled, looked at everyone, leaned back, fell on the back of the chair, and shrugged with great satisfaction.

Sanguinius raised his hand to support his forehead, and said helplessly and amusedly: "Look at what you have forced a guard into, Khalil. Anyway, please continue, great sage."

Call habitually tapped his artificial eye and nodded again. The light curtain behind him suddenly surged, and many data and plans were presented on it.

He turned around, and one of his appendages stretched out, tapping on these complex numbers, cooperating with his eloquent speech and assisting in the explanation. Time passed quickly, and by the time the meeting was over and the plan to rebuild Chemos was finalized by Fulgrim himself, it had been exactly six hours and twenty-seven minutes.

At this moment, the sky was not dark, and the sun was still hanging well on the far side of its horizon, emitting infinite light and heat, penetrating the slowly stretching clouds. Since the end of the war, there has been no more gun smoke in this blue sky. It seems to be as clear as before, without any change.

It fell into the purple eyes of the Phoenix, stirring up some waves. He stood in the wide corridor of Eagle Wing, leaning on his crutches without saying a word, staring at the sky through the window with an almost fascinated attitude.

Ferrus Manus slowly came to his side.

"Should you go back?" Phoenix spoke softly without turning his head. "You have interrupted an expedition."

"I haven't finished the armor I promised you."

"You can send it to me when you're done."

Gorgon shook his head firmly and slowly: "Some things must be delivered in person."

Phoenix couldn't help but let out a laugh, the sound echoed between the empty steel, gradually dissipated, and the gentleness in it gradually alienated, turning into a vague sadness.

"Thank you for sticking to these traditions, Ferrus."

"There's no need to say thank you now. I wasn't the one who rebuilt your home planet, and I wasn't the one who handled those political affairs. Keep it, and wait until you see the armor."

After the voice fell, he turned and left.

Phoenix turned sideways, leaning on the crutches and staring at his back, his white hair covering his expression. The sun shone on his back, bringing a warm itch. He didn't give a low response until Ferrus Manus' figure completely disappeared.

"Okay."

What he didn't know was that at the corner of the corridor, Ferrus Manus was frowning and staring at two people who seemed to be waiting here nonchalantly, one with wings on his back, and the other with a pale face.

There were many differences between them, such as external issues such as body proportions, clothing or demeanor. However, just one thing in common was enough to destroy all these differences, making them prisoners of the same crime at the same time.

"Cough" Sanguinius coughed. "The weather seems good today, what do you think, Khalil?"

"Suitable for a picnic." Khalil answered seriously, but his feet suddenly turned, taking him to turn around suddenly and walk in the completely opposite direction.

Sanguinius stared at him with wide eyes, as if he had been betrayed - and Ferrus Manus' expressionless gaze had already looked over.

"Do you have anything else to say?" Iron Hand asked.

Sanguinius was silent for a few seconds, and answered carefully: "Well, suitable for picnics?"

"No, suitable for making armor."

After that, Iron Hand took a step back, folded his hands, and nodded his chin expressionlessly at Sanguinius: "What do you think?"

Sanguinius sighed, but still did not forget to make the last effort: "Brother, I still have a lot of government affairs to deal with today"

"Throw them to Fulgrim."

"He is a patient! How can you bear to treat him like this!"

Iron Hand shook his head and stopped talking. He just stretched out his right hand, grabbed the angel's shoulder, and pushed him forward.

——

For the next period of time, everything was carried out in an orderly manner according to the plan on the schedule given by Cawl.

The large purification equipment of the Mechanicus fell from their mechanical arks one by one, piercing the surface like steel needles, pouring the torrent of machinery into Chemos's blood vessels, and this scarred world will once again usher in a new round of transformation.

This cycle of destruction and reconstruction is the second time it has experienced. Would the colonists who set out from Terra tens of thousands of years ago have thought that it would be like this today? No one knows the answer. Chemos can't speak. She just stays here, accepting and acknowledging everything.

In Eagle Wing, far away from the ground, the only 307 remaining members of the Emperor's Children Legion are crowded in a medical hall to watch an operation.

Most of them are nervous, and some are even taking deep breaths to maintain their calmness on the surface - this is completely opposite to their performance in the disaster not long ago. How reliable and trustworthy were they at that time?

However, now, no matter how long they have served and how many honors they have won, it is useless.

Even Saul Tarvitz is the same.

"Why isn't it over yet?" he muttered to himself, his voice filled with anxiety that he himself was not aware of. Beside him, a huge steel creature completely captured this sentence.

He spoke with a rumble.

"Be patient, Tavitz - Medical Officer Jairzinho Guzman has said more than once that this operation is just a routine check-up, and Sarron's transformation has actually been completed long ago."

Tavitz took a deep breath: "I understand, I understand that I'm just worried."

"Don't worry."

From his coffin, armor and cage, the ancient sage Rilla once again made gentle suggestions in a mechanical tone.

No mistakes in one post, one content, one book, one forum, one 6, one 9!

"I understand that whether Sarron's transformation can succeed is of great significance to us, and in the long run, it is even the same for all the legions and chapters of the entire empire - but a plan is only a plan after all, and any plan has the possibility of failure. Don't regard it as a fact that it has already succeeded."

Tavitz was silent for a few seconds, and shook his head in self-mockery: "Even after all these years, you can still make me feel ashamed in some aspects, ancient sage."

Fearless laughed monotonously and stopped talking.

Eleven minutes later, the indicator light on the door of the operating room turned from blue to green. The door slid open, and Jairzinho Guzman walked out steadily in a spotless surgical gown.

Facing the anxious or forcibly patient gazes of the princes, he looked around and gave a slow and powerful nod.

Sol Tarvitz let out a long breath, but what followed was not a smile. His juniors were celebrating with each other, but he didn't. He just took a few steps back until he was against a wall, then he lowered his head and began to take deep breaths as if he was afraid.

The sons of the emperor didn't know as much about this matter as he did. They only knew that Sarron represented the hope of the Legion's rebirth, but they didn't know what technology this hope was made of. Tarvitz knew it clearly.

The pure blood of the Primarch, the new enhanced transformation confirmed by the Astartes codenamed "First Forge", and the "Raptor" technology that was born from the past glory and endless pain of the Raven Guard.

From Belisarius Cawl, Tarvitz learned the secrets behind these things in full. In the two years when Fulgrim disappeared, he had thought about whether to stop this plan countless times, but he never said it out loud.

Perhaps it was because of his understanding of the Primarch, or perhaps it was because Sarron's excellence and firm will in training time and time again made him recognize him long ago - in short, the matter was a foregone conclusion.

Sarron of Chemos will become the first Primaris Astartes in the true sense of the empire.

What is the Primaris? Tarvitz has no answer yet, but judging from the vision given by Cawl and the strong fighting power shown by the First Cast in the disaster, they will definitely be stronger than the Old Astartes who have only undergone 19 operations

Old Astartes?

The Reverend couldn't help it, and a complicated smile appeared on his drooping face - he really didn't expect that he would come up with such a made-up word. Old Astartes? What? Are they some kind of tools that can be updated at any time?

Yes. After a few seconds, he thought so, and slowly stood up, his face no longer hidden in the darkness.

We are tools.

He walked towards Jairzinho Guzman, who was surrounded by a group of princes, looking worried. Tarvitz knew at a glance that the medical officer from the Eighth Legion began to miss the dark corner they were most familiar with.

With a smile, he walked into the crowd, looked around, and stopped the boiling noise instantly. Then he gestured to Guzman and led him out of the medical hall.

"How is the situation? I mean the specific situation." When he came to the outside of the hall, he immediately asked.

"What specific situation?" Facing the clear and cloudless night sky of Chemos, Guzman asked back. "What are his vital signs? The answer is that everything is normal. Rejection reaction? No, those naturally grown organs have a perfect fit."

"But I have to admit to you that Tarvitz, Caul and I are still worried about his future. After all, he is different from the First Cast. The First Cast is stable, what about him? Will he have this or that problem in battle?"

"I hope you understand that although Sarron has successfully passed the transformation operation, it does not mean that this technology can be implemented immediately. What the result will be, your legion may have to wait for a while, as for whether it is good or bad, I can't give any guarantee."

Saul Tarvitz shook his head slightly and just said: "These are all things for the future, we will talk about it later, as long as the child is fine."

Guzman did not answer, and his figure gradually became transparent in the moonlight. This abnormality immediately made Sol Tarvitz draw out the grenade launcher. He looked around vigilantly, but did not feel anything unusual.

When he turned around, Jairzinho Guzman's figure had disappeared by nearly half, and the remaining upper body was fluctuating like an unstable projection screen, as if it would completely dissipate at any time.

Tavitz looked at him in shock, until several seconds later, he belatedly remembered how this medical officer appeared in the world.

Guzman showed him a slight sneer: "You don't think I'm a living person, do you, Tavitz?"

The wronged man was silent.

"Ha!"

The medical officer of the Eighth Legion couldn't help laughing out loud, but after laughing, his tone became serious again.

"I wrote down my experience, observations and all the key points to pay attention to in this operation, and you can get them from Cole. Let your pharmacists practice diligently as soon as possible. Even if the final result of this matter is not what you and I want, those experiences can at least provide them with some valuable technical support. I'm leaving. Goodbye, cousin."

Tavitz stepped forward and stretched out his right hand. In the collision between the real and the fake, he really held Guzman's hand that was about to disappear.

"Goodbye." He said sincerely. "Thank you."

A breeze blew, and the figure of the medical officer completely disappeared.