Emperor's Bane

Chapter 641: Interlude: Echo of a Fearless Being (Part )

My name is……

What's my name?

In the few minutes after I regained consciousness, I struggled in a state of half-sleep and half-wakefulness. The familiar and gentle sound of motor friction forced my senses to return to normal. I looked outside again and immediately heard the sound of hymns: These damn gear assholes, can't they find some words that are not creepy?

I don't want to know what my interrupted dream has to do with Omni's fucking Saiyan motor oil!
Anger rushed to my head, the surging blood made my brain regain clarity faster, and the noisy sounds beside my ears became clearer and clearer: the unfamiliar technical sergeant and the mechanical modified man in ochre robes whom I had never seen before were whispering there, and the way they were arm in arm with each other made my eyes jump.

When I was alive, our relationship with these gear people was not so good, and they would wear bright red robes, and their words would be more stiff and complicated: I subconsciously opened my mouth, trying to imitate those fragmented memory fragments, and soon found that my throat was very dry.

Damn! It’s killing me!
God damn, this damn living coffin is good in every way except for a rum machine.

I coughed heavily, tore up the remaining prayers with my iron fingers, found the marble platform next to me as a support, and stood up from the huge throne: in the process, I had to realize once again that my shoulder armor and back armor were much higher than my helmet. Just by moving my shoulders slightly, hundreds of cables and pipes behind me were all invalidated.

I am different from others: compared with those brothers who are also trapped just one step away from the door of death, I am more different and more fortunate. Every time I wake up, I have to realize this fact again, and return to boredom after a brief joy.

In the midst of the imminent annoyance, I chose to stand up straight, noticing that the shadow I cast easily obscured the little guys standing in front of me: they seemed to have never seen a great and fearless elder like me. I could hear those robed gear butts talking excitedly and incoherently, and a pungent smell of engine oil came from under their robes.

I had to ignore the ambiguous sentiments made up of ones and zeros in their words.

They looked at me like valley girls looking at rich tycoons.

Grass!
Every time I wake up I look like this!

"Where's my weapon?"

"How's the battle going?"

I suppressed my anger, observed and recalled the layout of the room, and then I focused my attention on the kid standing in the front: I was satisfied to see that he trembled slightly when talking to me, and the same was true for the kids behind him, which was enough to make me happy.

This is a good thing.

Why is it a good thing?

Because this proves that the Legion has been replenishing fresh blood over the years.

That little bastard who has some qualifications can only stand there and smile at me!

This is not the most hateful thing. The most hateful thing is that those old bastards who fought in the trenches with me can actually stand in front of me and smile at me: I will never forget that the last time I woke up, the person standing there to greet me was actually the mentor who selected me into the legion.

That old bastard is still alive!
He must be three hundred years old!

My Lord, I still remember when we were guarding the gate together in the Himalayas. At that time, the so-called empire was only a tiny bit big, about the size of a city. The Emperor’s residence was two blocks away from our sentry post, and we would encounter the Seal Bearer patrolling almost every night.

Once upon a time, there was a mortal servant who accidentally fell asleep while on duty at night. When he woke up, he had been promoted to the seal holder.

Ah... that was a long time ago.

I looked up and saw a huge halo hanging on the iron-gray dome. It looked vaguely like the sun back then, and also like a mess in my mind now: perhaps because I had just ended my sleep, I couldn’t remember what happened afterwards for a while.

What did I do after I finished my duty?
Maybe a unification war?

Or something else?
When did those Thunder Warriors who were responsible for teaching me the skills of war die?

Mossenland, or Albia?

"Please forgive me... Respected elder."

My recollection was interrupted by the fact that the technical sergeant didn't point out the location of the weapon rack to me right away. What a foolish rookie. However, he seemed to have another story to tell, and I noticed that he was wearing a ceremonial armor, the kind of fancy-looking stuff that would be vulnerable on the battlefield.

I know this very well: someone has taught me this fact with his own life.

The fact is: even great killers like the Thunder Warriors, wearing ceremonial armor for victory ceremonies, bare-handed, waiting for medals with jubilation, are no match for us: their fists will indeed hurt our flesh and blood wrapped in combat armor, but their muscles cannot stop our chainsaws and hot melts, nor can they stop my agile...

and many more……

No, no longer: I was already in this coffin at that time.

The first awakening after a deep sleep was to chop off the heads of old friends who were unwilling to rest in peace.

But they deserved it.

"..."

No.

I don't want to recall this.

Let them all disappear.

Obviously, my sudden irritable movements scared the kid in front of me. He seemed a little nervous and wanted to say something, but I didn't need him: I solemnly glanced at this spacious steel morgue that was big enough to accommodate an entire legion, but found that those who were still sleeping here were all old friends.

It's still those same old bastards.

Not more, not less: it seemed no different than when I last slept.

Since the return of the Primarch, the Legion seems to have no more unlucky people like me.

Of course, before she returned, there weren't that many guys sleeping in this shabby place.

I was the first one, and there were probably seven or eight more after me. Anyway, there were no more than ten people at most: Fanged Angels have always resisted this fate worse than death. Even if this fate befalls us, we will bite its crotch hard.

Then lie down.

Fuck fearlessness: it’s up to us to decide whether to wake up or not.

I remember that most of the old guys here were never awakened, but the day of the Primarch's return was an exception. That was a real event that woke us all up: it was a bit surprising that our Primarch would be a woman, but if you think about it, it's a good thing.

Next time I see those idiots from other legions (if they are not dead), I can call them motherless bastards: I can already imagine what kind of wonderful expressions will appear on the faces of bastards like Astelan or Akudona.

Anyway, those bastards can't bring themselves to duel with me now.

I am fearless.

Elder! Do you understand?
As for the rest of the day?
Nobody can wake these bastards: not even me.

I am already the most active one. After all, I can't fall into a deep sleep, nor can I pretend not to hear the calls of these little guys: although I really don't want to wake up, these idle guys sometimes even sing in front of me for several days and nights in a row, and I don't know which bastard came up with the idea of ​​adding the sound of an alarm clock to the awakening ceremony!
I'm going to kill that guy.

Just this time!
I waved my fist in anger.

Good: the power is returning.

But even so, I have only awakened four times in the past hundred years. Once was because of the return of the Primarch, once was when the legion was almost split and Marshall asked us to stand behind him, and another time seemed to be a brutal war, but strangely, I had lost all my memories.

And then this time.

Each time, I could clearly feel that my thinking was recovering more slowly.

Old... Old...

I shook my head tiredly, feeling that all my bones were becoming a little rusty: maybe I needed some way to relax to relieve the pain of not being able to sleep, but the two bastards who woke me up obviously didn't realize this.

“So, let me sort this out.”

I figured out everything before the brat even opened his mouth.

"Didn't you wake me up for a crucial battle?" "Yes, my lord."

The way he stiffened his neck and tried to muster up courage reminded me of... uh...

What was the name of the little guy who died in the Caucasus with the Dragon Warrior?

That's it.

"Then what the hell are you doing?!"

"It's a ritual, my lord!"

Before I could gather any more rage, he finally found his mouth.

"The Emperor appointed Lord Horus as Warmaster this year at Ullanor. He wishes..."

"Hopefully we old bones can support his precious wolf boy, huh?"

"It's Horus..."

"Damn Horus!"

"When I was on Terra with the Emperor, he was still a fertilized egg!"

"Whatever title that kid wants, just find a place to secretly put it on. Does he really think that opening a circus means he will be admired by everyone? It was the Emperor who led us to conquer Terra. Without the Emperor, Horus is nothing! How dare he order our Second Legion to work for him!"

I pulled my chin down, instinctively wanting to spit in the guy's face and then knock him into a corner, but when my furious action only resulted in the meaningless friction sound of electric shock beside me, a huge sense of desolation suddenly hit me: I realized again that I was just half dead.

Go to hell.

What does this have to do with me.

Neither he nor Horus.

And the Emperor: When did he become such a fussy guy?

Still ceremony?
Pooh!
When he led us from the foot of the Himalayas to throw all the other idiots and cyborgs on Terra into hell, there was no ceremony: I remember that I picked up my sword, put on my armor, followed the Emperor's flag and left from the west gate. After several decades, I returned from the east gate. The road I walked on was what they called the War of Unification.

There was nothing sacred or great about it. At that time, we were just killing people in a different place, basically every day.

However, I remember clearly: when we completed the first half of the unification war, strangled the most important opponents, and returned to the foot of the Himalayas for a short rest, the construction of the magnificent stone pile began. They called it the Terra Palace, and on the day when the groundbreaking ceremony came, it happened to be my turn to stand guard.

It was a very ordinary day, I was on guard with my brothers, and everything was as if the war of unification had never happened: until I realized belatedly when reporting the point, that none of the people who had been on guard with me had returned to the Himalayas alive.

They changed a new batch.

I became a veteran that day.

Tsk...really...

I was feeling depressed and mocked the master I swore allegiance to without any reservation: I had no intention of disobeying the Emperor. As long as the Lord of Humanity gave the order, I would still be willing to go through fire and water for him. But since I had walked back and forth on the brink of life and death, it was no problem for me to die for him. He wanted me to respect him as I did before...

Let’s go eat!

I cursed again, trying to vent some of the resentment in my heart. After finishing these things, I suddenly found that I seemed to have nothing to do: every time I wake up is for an impossible war. What's the point of living without war?

What ceremony? Being a big clown at the festival of Horus.

Then I would rather die.

"Looks like you're going to screw up this mission of yours, little one."

I told the kid, and seemed to be asking myself in my heart.

From the sound of their voices: Even the Great Crusade is about to end?

We old bones who are only fit for fighting are finally going to be swept into the garbage dump.

I ignored the little ones behind me who were huddled together like hungry bamboo rats and chattering to each other, and went straight back to my throne: none of the other old guys had such things, but I still needed this one, and through the luster of marble and steel, I could see clearly the iron cage that imprisoned me at this moment.

At that moment, I even kind of understood those gear guys who were drooling over me.

How perfect this is.

The silver-white paint wrapped around the steel body that didn't look bloated at all. Compared to the Dreadnought, the one that buried me was more like a Terminator, with a sturdy body and slender limbs. The details of the various joints were so beautiful that it was more than enough to match an ancient warrior like me: rather than a torturous coffin, it was more like a battle armor carefully built for warriors.

In fact, it is.

Frankly speaking, this is not something an Astartes should have.

But I am special...

"..."

Ah, I remembered.

I finally fucking remembered!

I don't know how many times, but the word "special" finally awakened certain long-forgotten memories in my mind. A path was cleared out of the tangled dust, leading directly to the past on Holy Terra, which happened more than two hundred years ago.

"I changed my mind."

I whispered softly, and before these little guys could react, I strode towards the door. My ultimate goal was to walk to the corridor of the battleship fully armed: I didn't need them to point me to the weapon racks, I would not forget where the old guy in my hand was.

And after getting it back, there are some [grudges] from hundreds of years ago that need to be resolved.

Those bastards.

Those bastards who promised me they wouldn't bury me in Dreadnaught.

Hope they are still alive...

I laughed, and the rough laughter made the little guys following me feel creepy: they pricked up their ears and could hear some unfamiliar words in my low voice, which were ancient terms that they could not understand.

Himalayas, with thunderstone.

That's right.

Himalaya, and thunder stone.

I followed the Emperor, my crusades began at the foot of the Himalayas, from the First City of the Lord of Mankind: and when I fell, the Emperor's host was on its way to the Thunderstone Cathedral, and I was buried in the Dreadnaught before that Temple of Faith.

This is my past journey.

But it won’t be my entire journey.

At least before I die completely: there are still some things I need to tell our Primarch.

I can vouch on my honor that it is a very important matter.

It’s about…

What was it about?

(End of this chapter)