40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 624 Interlude: The Rational Horn Observations (Part )

Out of habit, Haid began to take deep breaths.

Let's go back 20 years to the afternoon when he just joined the army.
Under the scorching sun, the recruiting officer shouted the key points of military discipline in their ears, and the veterans stood not far away with their hands folded and sneered. They had just finished the weighted run, and were sweating all over, dizzy, thirsty and hungry.

Haid could no longer remember how he managed to hold on until that night. He only remembered that a boy standing next to him kept muttering something.

"Take a deep breath and stay calm."

Twenty years later, these words stayed with him, and they still stayed with him. He took two deep breaths, and then he calmed down again. Suddenly, the down-and-out old sailor on the Banjo-1 disappeared, and another person took his place.

Khalil looked at him, waiting for him to ask a question. But Haid didn't do that. He just stood up from the sofa and habitually put his heels together for a moment.
He stood there with an upright posture, and even though he was dressed in rags, people would subconsciously think that he was a soldier - and that was indeed the case.

Haid took another deep breath, and when he exhaled the last breath, he slowly raised his right hand and saluted.

"I'm not your superior," Khalil told him as gently as possible.

Haid didn't say anything, just put his hands down and waited for further orders.

Khalil sighed and said, "Come with me."

They left the small lounge and headed upstairs.

The journey was not very kind to Hayd's knees. Walking on the ground and walking in a warship are two completely different experiences. No matter how good the ship is, it is inevitable to have sudden shocks or bumps, even if they are parked in low-Earth orbit or in a dock and do not move at all.

Haid thought he had forgotten how to keep his balance on the boat, but he was wrong, he had not forgotten it at all.

This instinctive reaction, forged by habit, surged from deep in his bones, not only making him walk quickly in crowded or wide corridors, but even making him briefly ignore his own identity.

He was wrong again. It seemed that after the war, he always made the wrong choices.
In a trance, Haid even thought that this was just another wait on the ship. Soon, he and his brothers would take a transport plane to the surface of a planet to carry out a mission.

They were the assault company, always at the forefront, always the first sharp knife. Sometimes, even the Astartes were not as fast as them.

He thought of this, and then he actually met a group of Astartes. They were wearing black armor and knight's robes, with winged helmets held in their arms or hung on their waists, and every face was very ruthless.

Haid controlled himself, lowered his head, stood aside, and wanted to wait for them to leave, but they did not do so.

"grown ups?"

Haid heard one of them speak like this, with a hint of hesitation in his voice. He looked up and saw, as expected, his mysterious employer communicating with the group of dark angels.

"What's up, Azrael?"

"I'm just returning to the group," the giant called Azrael said dryly. "I didn't expect to meet you on the road, so I thought--"

"—to apologize?" his employer asked.

"Yes."

Haid heard a chuckle and was a little confused. What was so funny about that?
Doubts arose, and then were immediately dispelled as he saw his employer pull a complete bolter from his bosom and hand it to the Dark Angel.

"No need to apologize, you just did what you had to do. But, like I said, you're going to need it - legally, I work for the Inquisition now, and you fired on me. So, you're going to have to write a lot of reports."

Haid heard an inhalation.

".I see."

The power armor began to hum again. Haid lowered his head and watched their departure out of the corner of his eye. He felt relieved: his employer was indeed from the Inquisition.

After realizing this, the doubts that had always existed in his heart were finally dispelled a lot, but he still needed to confirm one thing, so when they were about to step into the next corner, Haid spoke.

"grown ups."

Sighing, but without impatience - Haid saw his employer turn around, his tone still gentle: "What is it?"

"Are you an Inquisitor?"

His employer nodded, using the ambiguity that the Inquisitors favored, just as he had seen it before: "You could say that, Haid."

"Then I'll assume you are." Haid nodded. "So, you are actually working with the Dark Angels? And you came to Banjo-1 for some kind of investigation mission?"

Khalil narrowed his eyes and suddenly showed an expression that was neither a smile nor a smile.

Haid understood his subtext, but he continued firmly: "I understand that my problem may lead to my execution, but if you are here for that matter, I am afraid I can't help you."

"Why?" Khalil asked softly.

Haid stopped answering but still stood straight.

Khalil smiled and said, "Actually, I know nothing about the 'thing' you mentioned, Haid."

"The Imperium is large and sclerotic, and so is the Inquisition. How many Inquisitors are active across the galaxy right now, as we speak these few minutes? How many cases do they deal with each year? Or, let me put it another way, how many Inquisitors die each year?"

"I just happened to come to Banjo-1. I'm not chasing something like you think, but since you mentioned it."

He paused for a moment and saw Haid's face gradually become tense.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the door of a study room, which was open and unattended. There were many rows of huge bookshelves in the room, some of which were empty, while others were filled with books.

It is worth mentioning that these bookshelves are not very exquisite, with mottled surfaces and rough shapes. Some places are even unpolished and burrs can be seen.

Haid was led into the room, his steps were cautious, while his employer seemed to be walking in a forest of bookshelves. It was very quiet here, Haid could only hear the footsteps and his own breathing.
They walked all the way to the end of the bookshelves, where they met someone.

In other words, a giant.

Haid's mind suddenly went blank, and he felt an urge to kneel down from the bottom of his heart. If it weren't for those ruthless deep green eyes looking at him, making his whole body stiff, Haid would have done so.

The eyes quickly looked away, and its owner slowly stood up from a chair, his faded light golden hair spread out like a beast's mane, and his thick beard almost covered the lower half of his face, but the firm lines could still be seen. And those eyes.
The throne is above, Haid cried inwardly, following those eyes and seeing his own reflection in them—a trembling, sweating mortal, an insignificant speck of dust.

This speck of dust is facing one of the most distinguished people in the entire galaxy. This makes the dust feel suffocated, ashamed and embarrassed.
He even had the urge to cry, regretting that he had not dug out the military uniform that had been hidden in the bottom of the box today.

Then the giant called out his name.

"Corporal Haid," Lion El'Jonson said calmly. "I have finally found you."

"What, what, what?" Haid asked with difficulty and slurred words, acting as if he had lost the ability to speak.

In an instant, the calmness of the old soldier completely disappeared. At this moment, he was like every devout believer who was meeting God, with trembling chin, tight cheeks, and tears in his eyes.

Khalil looked away and stopped himself from looking at it. He understood that this was the power of faith. When a religion is promoted for 10,000 years, this is what they will get.
He understands and comprehends it, but he finds it difficult to fully accept it.

The lion approached Haid and spoke slowly: "Perhaps you already know who I am, but out of courtesy, I still have to introduce myself to you - I am Lion El'Jonson, one of the Primarchs. I have been waiting for you, Corporal."

"wait for me?"

Haid asked hoarsely, he was even more shocked, as if he was about to faint. Khalil reached out and patted his shoulder, shaking his head comfortingly.

"Yes." The lion nodded. "You don't know, but we have seen it before. Remember the weird old man in the stupid fisherman's house? The old man who only wore a robe in the cold weather?"

"That person was me, I just used a little disguise. For this I want to apologize to you. I didn't mean to deceive you, but I had something to deal with at the time. Now, Corporal, let's talk about what you mentioned in the tavern."

He raised his left hand, turned it over, palm facing up, and put his five fingers together, pointing at a chair like a sharp sword.

"Sit down, Corporal, and let us discuss the case in which your honor was stolen."

Haid did as he was told, but he still couldn't believe it. Did he hear a little anger in the lion's tone? A Primarch, angry for him - for what happened to a speck of dust?
The corporal of the 23rd Company of the 77th Doomsday Guards sat down in the chair stiffly and sourly.

His employer stood aside, leaning against the bookshelf, with a calm expression, his hands folded across his chest, his right index finger tapping his left arm. The lion stayed where he was, with his hands behind his back. Hayid heard him taking a deep breath.

After a moment, the lion spoke up, and he asked in a positive tone: "You participated in the Battle of Sovet."

Hayid quickly replied, "Yes, sir."

"Sir," the lion said. "From now on, I want you to be completely honest with me, and I will be completely honest with you. Can you do that?"

".I can, sir. I swear to the Emperor."

"Very good, Corporal. Now, tell me, when the Second Battle Group of the Hadiran Orks approached Sovet, what orders did the 23rd Company of the 77th Regiment of the Doom Guard, where you served at the time, receive?"

Hayd took a deep breath.

Calm down, stay calm. The long-dead boy whispered soothingly in his heart. Take a deep breath, Haid, take a deep breath.

Haid took another deep breath, and then he said: "We received the order when they were about to land, and it was too late to deploy. In order to buy time, we were ordered to go to the landing site and fight them."

"You have no complaints about that?"

"I am a member of the assault company, sir." Haid answered firmly. "Every member of the assault company joins voluntarily. We are never afraid of death. We always rush to death."

"Very good, Corporal. How long did it take you to get there?"

"Thirty-nine minutes, sir. I remember it clearly."

"How did you enter the battlefield?"

“Airborne.”

Haid said so. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and a naked hatred appeared on his face.

"Time is urgent. The battle situation cannot wait for us to build fortifications. Moreover, the greenskins will not wait either. Therefore, we are divided into two groups. Six assault companies will stay outside the landing site to dig trenches, and the other six assault companies will carry out airborne operations."

"We caught those green bastards by surprise, sir. They didn't expect someone to be crazier than them. It went smoothly at first. We used flamethrowers directly in the jungle. My company and I defeated them."

"But everyone knows that you can't win a battle against the greenskins. We are not Astartes and we can't wipe them out."

"We were soon surrounded, but we also bought time for the rear. Our armored company has already set out, and we just need to hold on a little longer until victory comes."

"But you didn't." The lion said in a low voice. "Twelve companies, twelve thousand elite soldiers, fighting to the end, but the death rate was as high as 83%."

Haid raised his head bitterly, glanced at the lion, then quickly lowered his head, his voice becoming hoarse: "We have no choice, sir."

"Those greenskins always find a way to break through our defenses. If we are not afraid of death, then they are seeking death."

"We blasted them to pieces with explosives, roasted them with flamethrowers, used grenades, knives, even teeth and fists, but they wouldn't flinch, wouldn't run away. We really had—"

“——I understand.” said the lion.

The anger hidden in his voice finally fully emerged, and the huge anger that could not be suppressed made Haid tremble. Even though he knew in his heart that this was not directed at him.

"I have read the battle reports about the Battle of Sovet many times before you came. I wrote down every detail, and it is exactly the same as what you just said. However, I still don't understand one thing, Haid."

"Sir?"

The lion put down his hands, walked up to the corporal, stared into his eyes, and asked word by word: "Who crossed your name off the list of survivors?"

Haid was silent for a long time, and finally, he uttered a noun.

"Inquisition."

Khalil's index finger, which was about to fall again, suddenly hung in mid-air.

(End of this chapter)