40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 303 23. The show is on ([-])

Magnus could feel the tremors in the air, the people's eyes.He didn't need to use his powers to hear heated discussions coming from all directions, and everyone in the amphitheater was curious about what he was going to do next.

This is good, actually, very good.

A smile appeared on the corner of the Crimson King's mouth, and he focused on the pale white gem on the surface of the instrument.It glows and seems to be forever changing.The colorful brilliance looks so beautiful from every angle.

Now, he thought, the Old Night was indeed a horrific disaster, but there was no definite evidence of the specific cause until now.

So, who are people to blame on psychics?
But it doesn't matter, the criticisms over the years will come to an end today, and everyone will see the stability of psychic energy - as long as he activates this instrument, Mortarion's opposition will become a passing thing, and even become a joke. .
He chuckled, raised his right hand, and used a psychic signal to guide a servitor to return the incorrectly connected cable duct to the correct position.At the same time, there was a sound of footsteps behind him.

He knew who it was without looking back.

"Azek, what's the matter?" Magnus asked as gently as possible.

He didn't want his current excitement to be captured by his son. Azek Ahriman was a smart man, sometimes even too smart.

"I just wanted to ask," Ahriman said hesitantly, his voice full of doubt.

This emotion made Magnus' smile disappear instantly. He turned around and immediately interrupted his think tank director before he even had a chance to finish his sentence.

"I remember we've talked about this, Azek." Magnus said, his facial muscles pulling at the false emotion, showing an obvious smirk.

"Or do you think I can't complete this experiment? We have done preliminary tests on many volunteers, and they have no problems, right?"

"But they all fell into madness after finishing their observations of the vast ocean, my lord."

"Yes, but that was after they briefly mastered psychic power - and this madness can be reversed. Didn't Experimental Subject No. 18 and Experimental Subject No. 27 successfully regain their sanity?"

"But this is obviously only a small probability event, the original body." Against Magnus's almost gloomy gaze, Azek Ahriman spoke with great difficulty and for the last time.

"It took us a year to arrive in Nicaea, and your experiment only advanced this year. Only two of the 130 volunteers recovered from the madness, which is not a convincing statement at all. numbers."

"Their recovery cannot even be called a success. It is a rare event. I implore you to think again, Primarch. It is not too late."

"What are you thinking about, Azek?" Magnus looked at him disappointedly, and this look made the think tank director feel a helpless sting.That's the thing about Magnus, he doesn't like to hear any objections.

"Didn't you hear how those people talked about us? They have begun to compare us with primitive and barbaric wizards. This is undoubtedly a slander and a crime that we should not bear."

The Crimson King took a step closer, looked at his heir, and whispered sincerely.

"What's more, psychic energy is bound to become another kind of power controlled by humans in the future. This is almost a foreseeable future. It will definitely come, and if no one is the driving force, then it will be up to me. Come."

He waved his right hand decisively, his one eye still staring closely at Azek Ahriman.

"Listen, my son. I understand your doubts and demands, but we have no time to wait any longer. Success or failure depends on this, and the truth has always been in the hands of only a few people."

"Why do you think there are so few wise men among human beings? Because most of the wise men were murdered by those so-called common people who are as stupid as pigs and dogs! I will not let this happen. Even if I have to be stigmatized for this, I will let it happen. Everyone sees their mistake."

Azek Ahriman finally had nothing to say, not only because as an Astartes he could not violate the nature of the Primarch, but also because a corner of his heart was being touched by Magnus's eloquence.

Yes, it's exactly what he said.For a long time, the think tank system and the existence of psychics have been criticized by people. They cannot see the superiority of psychic energy, and even belittle it and insult it.

What's even more ridiculous is that every time they talk about it, the victories once created by the psykers suddenly disappear and are placed on others, such as some mortal auxiliaries.Do they deserve this honor?
These accusations had never been a secret and the Thousand Sons could hear them, but they ignored them and took them in stride.As long as the Emperor didn't object, it meant they were on the right path.But this does not mean that they will remain silent and indifferent to any words.
"Now, do you understand, Azek?" Magnus looked at him with hope in his eyes.

"I understand, Primarch," Azek Ahriman replied solemnly.

"Very good." Magnus smiled, turned around, and walked near the instrument.

The servitors lowered their heads, and the simple programming in their minds began to be replaced by another power.

It was born from Magnus' thoughts and was pulled by him to cover the brain chip that originally controlled the servitor.Under the influence of psychic energy, the eyes of the twelve servitors lit up with blue light.

The next second, in the sudden burst of sound in the theater, these twelve servitors instantly turned into substantial spiritual flashes - their bodies were melted in an instant, and the whole process lasted less than a second. But it can still be clearly captured by many people.

The flesh, flesh and machinery turned into a stream of light blue energy, and finally gathered in Magnus's hands, forming a floating light group.

Countless doubts, objections and even curses rushed towards Magnus in an instant, but he stood there without any worry, even with a smile on his face.

Yes, that's it.He raised his head with a smile and looked at the golden platform.You must have fought against the whole world in this way, father?

On the throne, the emperor looked down at him expressionlessly.

"I know that you have doubts about this." He said slowly. "You may think this is a human sacrifice, but it is not. The servitors are not human beings. In fact, they are already dead."

"In their lifetime, they were death row prisoners or deformed clones, but now they are flesh-and-blood mechanical combinations driven by chip programs. No matter from any angle, they cannot be regarded as human beings."

In the original body's box, Leman Russ shook his head slowly.The Fenrisian's voice has never sounded so low as it does now: "He has definitely done similar things with living people, believe me."

Magnus raised his right hand high, walked to the instrument, and poured the energy ball into the pale white gem.

The blue light flashed without any warning, and the dizzying brilliance suddenly bloomed the next moment.Starting from the entire instrument, it almost completely affected the entire venue.At the same time, Malcador on the golden platform snorted coldly, waved his scepter, and tightly bound the light within the instrument.Magnus raised his head slightly surprised and glanced at him.

"This is just a normal experimental phenomenon, Palm Printer. It will happen every time the instrument is started."

"Every time?" Malcador shook his head. "Go on, Magnus, and let us see what you have accomplished."

There was no hint of coldness in his words, but Magnus felt a slight twinge of doubt.In order to confirm this, he looked into Malcador's eyes. The moment their eyes met, he saw a kind of opposition in Malcador's eyes.

And everyone knows that Malcador is the other hand of the Emperor, and the attitude of the palmer can completely represent the Emperor on some level.

Does this mean that the Emperor disapproves of his actions?
The Crimson King looked at the Lord of Humanity again, whose expression remained calm.As a result, this wave of doubt quickly sank in his heart and disappeared like floating grass passing over the water.

The Emperor made no objection.he thinks.This means I'm not wrong.

"Now, I need a volunteer!" He raised his arms, left the instrument, and walked along the edge of the amphitheater like a teacher giving a class.

The officials and nobles were inevitably distracted by the approaching Primarch, while others scorned his behavior.Mortarion crossed his arms, leaned against the pillar of the box and sneered coldly.

He didn't speak, but everyone could hear his disdain in the laughter.

"Now, what he is doing is completely incompatible with the rigorous experiments required." Robert Guilliman sighed. "He looked almost like a street juggler showing off his sword-swallowing skills."

"Moreover, this sword is real. He will pierce his own intestines and stomach, and the sword will eventually come out of his stomach." Angron took over his words.

The gladiator's face was slowly twitching, his hands were holding each other, the muscles of his arms were twitching, and the veins on his palms were popping out.Just being activated by the instrument already made the Butcher's Nail active.

In the venue, the Crimson King knew nothing about these things.He was still raising his arms and shouting, hoping to find a volunteer.

He spoke passionately, hoping that people would spontaneously participate in this experiment and join him in becoming a highlight in future history books.

Unfortunately, so far, no one has been persuaded by him.Everyone saw how Magnus treated the twelve servitors, and no one wanted to be next.

Therefore, even though the Crimson King stated over and over again that the experimenter himself would never be in any danger, no one was willing to leave his seat or box.

The scene and atmosphere gradually became awkward, and the smile on Magnus's face began to fade. At this moment, a man sitting on the sidelines stood up.He wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and a heavy black camera hung around his neck.

"My name is Berros von Sharp, and I am one of the military chroniclers of the Eighth Legion, sir." He stood up, bowed politely and bent down. "I am willing to be your volunteer to assist you in conducting this experiment."

"Thank you!" Magnus walked towards him overjoyed. "Your name is - ah, yes, Herr Bellows von Sharpe. Thank you! You won't regret it!"

"I hope so." Bellows smiled unabated, taking off his gold-rimmed glasses and putting them back into his jacket pocket.Following Magnus's guidance, he walked into the theater, came to the instrument, and put his hands on it.

On the throne, the Emperor finally changed his sitting posture.Malcador stood beside him and sighed: "It's too late to regret now, Your Majesty."

"I never regretted letting him go," the Emperor said nonchalantly.

"You know that's not what I'm referring to." Malcador clenched his scepter, and his psychic powers were already gathering momentum. "No matter what that thing is, the chance that Bellos will be safe and sound is extremely low."

The Emperor made no further reply to this sentence.

In the center of the field, Magnus also placed his hands on the instrument.He looked at Bellros for a few seconds, and then he remembered that he should do a little research in advance.Fortunately, it doesn't matter, it's the same if you make up for it now.

The crimson king once again had that fake smile on his face. He bowed his head gracefully and politely, and asked seemingly humbly: "So, Mr. Bellos, have you ever been in contact with psykers before?"

"Oh, I've had a lot of contact with them." Bellos nodded. "I know your tricks, such as lightning, sky fire, etc. I have seen them all."

Magnus frowned: "But you said you are from the Eighth Legion. Their think tank director is Fel Zalost. He should not be able to use these spells."

"I am a chronicler, my lord. Therefore, I have met many people." Belros said, with a far more fake smile on his face than Magnus, who was not aware of this at all.

"Okay, okay." Magnus nodded and ignored the question perfunctorily.He should have taken this matter more seriously, as he had done before.

The 130 volunteers are all carefully selected.It is not easy to find these mortals who do not have psychic qualifications among the Thousand Sons. Even the chroniclers are required to have psychic talents.

This is enough to prove how carefully Magnus treated this experiment before. Unfortunately, the Crimson King was not aware of this.There was only the simplest thought left in his mind.

prove yourself.

He has endured criticism for too long and he will never tolerate it any longer.

"Then, Mr. Bellos, please close your eyes and stay calm." Magnus spoke softly. "I'll guide you, okay? All you have to do is sink your consciousness completely, like in a dream or sleep."

"I haven't had a dream for many years, sir." Belros closed his eyes. "But I'll try."

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(End of this chapter)