40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 713 6. The Shocking Truth

The daytime in Chemos is very bright, which makes it an unusual green space among the cities today, and also makes its annual tourism revenue an astronomical figure that many garden worlds can't even dream of.
After all, no matter how beautiful a resort is, how can it compare to a miracle created by a Primarch himself?

Standing in a corridor of Eagle Wing and gazing out, Khalil adjusted his sunglasses, secretly wondering whether Fulgrim had turned the "meeting with him" into a money-making opportunity in the past ten thousand years.

Based on his intuition, he believed that Phoenix must have done this before, but most likely stopped without making much money.

Perhaps he realized that doing so would no longer promote economic development, but would directly cause the economy of Chemos, which had just started, to collapse; or perhaps he realized that this would actually bring a lot of trouble.
He smiled, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and then a voice followed closely to his ears.

"grown ups?"

"What is it, La?"

"Nothing, sir." The tribune nodded at him. "Just double-checking."

Khalil looked back at him, his expression mixed with amusement and helplessness. 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 handling personal affairs had been exhausted. It was time to get down to business. He walked along the way, observing the scene inside the fortress at the same time - for him, this was also part of his job.

Therefore, he refused the quick method of reaching the Eagle Wing hangar directly through the teleportation beacons deployed in major cities on the surface of Chemos, and instead took a "Sky Flight" and arrived here under the strange looks of everyone on the bus.

This is troublesome and will bring more trouble, but Khalil believes in one thing. He believes that work without field investigation is very likely 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 the fortress: the materials that made up its interior.

The material used for the floor, walls and ceiling changed 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 chisel to carve the names of the former owners of these armor fragments in the same handwriting.

He wrote earnestly and solemnly, but always just the names without any condolences or recognition, as if these people had simply been discharged from the army and were going on a long journey, rather than having died cruelly in some battle.

Khalil stopped.

"grown ups?"

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

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

Khalil closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply.

In the past, he had done this with ease and without any hindrance, but now it took him just a few seconds to prepare to evoke that familiar coldness - its welcome was still warm and cruel, delivering all the injustices of 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 itch, and the urge to kill quietly arose
Khalil snuffed it out and got a slight taste of what it was like when human nature took over.

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

"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 "existed".

The spiritual tide stirred up a raging sea, and in the world that did not belong to the material world, a huge blood-red wave was raised, which easily hit him from behind and submerged him. As soon as it receded and dissipated, its power had already 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. Ashes hung out upside down, and their eyes were as deep as black holes, with two flames of hatred burning inside.

These ghosts with white hair and broken armor looked at him silently. No one spoke, but they all gave him some information in some way, and then disappeared in an instant, returning to the depths of the wilderness to sleep quietly, until one day, a war really came.

They will abandon this peaceful sleep forever without complaint, and take up weapons, weapons that kill and wound themselves, throw themselves into darkness, and burn themselves.
But now is not the time.

Khalil continued to move forward, and he successfully reached the first target point of the day without spending any more time, and he didn't even meet any imperial sons along the way.

Compared to the size of this fortress, their number is really too small. Therefore, even if the entire auxiliary army of Chemos is trained and lives here together, there is no way to make this place more popular.

Last night, Fulgrim had drunkenly said to his brother, "It's as quiet here during the day as a museum or a cemetery." His statement was suspected of being exaggerated, but the actual situation was probably not much better.

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

It was designed and built to the standards and customs of the Astartes, no doubt about that. All kinds of weapons were readily available, placed on weapon racks or hung on the walls, including training armor, which was used very intensively.

It is divided into two floors, the upper floor is probably the target practice area, Khalil can smell the familiar smell of gunpowder, and the lower floor is needless to say. There are people demanding themselves on the multi-circle extreme obstacle course, duel cage and martial arts training platform where the training dummies are located.
The only drawback here, in Khalil's opinion, is that it's too empty.

He counted the number of people and found that there were only about seventy of them at most. Now the total number of the Emperor's sons was just reaching half a regiment: five hundred and twenty-nine, with five companies, a regiment commander, two company commanders, and eleven Dreadnoughts.

Except for the 1st and 2nd Companies, all the remaining companies were commanded by Fulgrim himself - this was not his monopoly, but a common request of the princes.

They insisted that the company commander must reach the standards of the previous legion era in terms of skills, quality and tactical reserves before being appointed. Otherwise, they would rather not have a company commander.

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 soon spread. Khalil stopped while he was ahead and did not move forward to avoid disturbing the daily training of more soldiers of the Third Legion.

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

"Assemble, line up!" shouted a giant standing on the edge of a man-made shell crater.

He had white hair and a shawl hanging down his shoulders, already soaked with sweat. The coldness brought by the 10,000-meter altitude and the heat generated by his own movement were canceling each other out, and steam was rising from his head and back.

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

He joined the army one hundred and fifty years ago, and has patrolled more than ninety times, eliminating roaming orcs, evil cult conspiracies and alien invasions dozens of times. He was awarded the title of "Paragon". He is the 261st soldier of the Emperor's Children to receive this honor in the post-Legion era, and the 48th Second Company Captain.

Soon, the princes 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 some field research. He had no intention of having the princes line up like this, as if they were to accept his inspection - but the atmosphere had come to this point, and it seemed inappropriate for him not to say something.

But what to say?

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

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," Khalil said immediately. "In fact, very much so, Captain Lonathistle - I'm lost."

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

Khalil had no choice but to accept his suggestion and let him take him to the second destination: the Legion of Honor Room.

This journey should not take long at the speed of the Astartes, however, the Second Captain seemed to want to take his mortal Inquisitor into consideration and deliberately slowed down his pace.

He didn't even choose to take a detour and take the elevator, but walked all the way so that he could introduce him to the various facilities in Eagle Wing and which battle brothers the portraits hanging on the walls represented.

He knew all of this very well, and he could talk about it wherever he went. Khalil listened quietly throughout the whole process, remembering everything the captain said in his heart.
Of course, he was also waiting for something else.

Finally, when he turned a corner, Lonathistel paused for a moment. Hesitantly, he spoke slowly.

"Your Excellency--" he said solemnly. "--I want to ask you something."

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

Lonatistel was startled, but did not hide it. He just nodded and said, "Yes, I have no intention of hiding or lying, but that was the first time I saw the Primarch like that."

The company commander, who had been eloquent all the way and had a deep and pleasant voice like a singer, suddenly got stuck and it was Khalil who helped him out.

"Out of control?"

"I am very curious about this, so I took the liberty to ask you to help me solve this puzzle. If this involves some secrets, please refuse immediately and I will forget about it immediately."

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

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

"Look into these eyes, Captain Lonatistel."

The second captain looked at him in confusion.

Khalil was a little surprised. "Haven't you ever dealt with the Eighth Legion and its various sub-legions before, Captain?"

"No, my lord."

Lonathistle pursed his lips as he answered, seeming a little annoyed and ashamed of it.

"We are few in number, and have never left Chemos for ten thousand years. We are unable to participate in joint operations between chapters. I have heard of the Night Prince's heirs, but I have never seen them."

Then it's even more impossible to have seen the Nostramo, Khalil thought.

A voice sounded from the bottom of his heart.

"Of course not, father. I personally gave the order regarding Nostramo. As for the matter of the Star of Eternal Night, it is better to stay in the dark. In a world where even language is a taboo, how can we be qualified to go into the light? Besides, we are afraid of light."

Khalil put his sunglasses into his coat pocket and thought calmly: So, was it also your order to make magicized gold into amulets, armor and weapons to supply certain priests within the state religion?
He got a chuckle and a faint "Sai".
Khalil narrowed his eyes and focused his attention back to the present. He could see that Lonatistel's well-hidden embarrassment did not escape his eyes, and he knew that the warrior must be blaming himself.

Regardless of whether his behavior made sense or not, in his opinion, the matter was actually very simple. He felt that he had shown his cowardice when he led a great inquisitor on behalf of the legion, which brought shame to the glory of the legion.

Evidence of this could be gathered from his fists, which were unconsciously clasped behind his back and trembling slightly, his chest puffed out, and his eyes that refused to make eye contact.

This is a posture of accepting inspection, and no matter how you look at it, it should not appear on a battle-hardened company commander.

Khalil sighed to himself, and the voice sounded again.

"I have to remind you that you could have revealed the truth to him in a gentler way."

Words are sometimes pale, Conrad, I believe in seeing is believing and keeping my feet on the ground.

The voice laughed playfully: "Ha, whatever you want. I just hope that this respectable company commander will not suffer any sequelae from 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 explanation and proof, so please forgive me."

Forgive? Forgive what? Lorna Thistle wondered in confusion.

He soon got the answer - his vision was suddenly filled with a burst of scarlet.

He saw a sea of ​​blood, an endless sea of ​​blood, spreading from behind the Inquisitor, completely submerging honor, metal and everything, with countless bones in it.

He opened his eyes wide in shock, and tried to move, but his feet seemed to be rooted, unable to move at all. He looked at the judge himself, trying to warn him with his eyes to avoid him, but after just one look, he could no longer look away.
A roll of torn and shredded human skin fell to his feet. The Inquisitor was no longer visible, and standing in his place was a being he could not describe in words.

Dark flames roared and boiled between its ribs. Its body was dark and hideous, and its eyes were as dead as an empty graveyard at midnight.
Its mere existence filled Lonathistle with a deep fear that made him want to turn around and run away. His heartbeat began to speed up, blood rushed through his veins, his face turned pale, and his muscles locked up.

The thing slowly cast a glance at him.

"Let me reveal the truth to you, Lonathistel." It spoke, bringing with it a deeper fear, its voice like a bell. "Please stay rational, it is important to us."

(End of this chapter)