40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 717 10. A Firm Believer in the Imperial Truth (Part )
The blood vessel on the right side of the forehead burst, and blood gushed out, quickly staining this relatively young face into a mottled canvas. The blood flowed down and divided it in half, and its owner was screaming at the top of his lungs, so he had no time to pay attention to anything else.

The hot blood fell into the eyes, flooded the mouth and nose, and continued to flow downward, winding like a river, toward the undulating hilly area. It reached the neck, where the bulging veins and blood vessels had been waiting for a long time.

The blood covered them, their muscles tensed and twitched, and their screams turned into low roars, making people wonder where the sound came from - why would a twelve-year-old child make such a howl?
There was no love, no happiness, no innocence and purity that one should have at his age, and even the animal nature born out of pain was not much.
Only hatred. Yes, only hatred.

That hatred overwhelmed everything. It destroyed all beauty and turned a child's mind into the most despicable, ridiculous and absurd nothingness. It was just hatred, but it was enough to overwhelm everything.

It defeated the body's instincts, engulfed its intelligence, rationality, and sensibility, and even spared its soul.
It made the child open his bloody mouth like a madman, revealing bitten flesh and a bloody tongue, and then laugh wildly.

It caused Fulgrim, the Primarch of the Third Legion, to tremble and retreat until his back was against the wall, and he swallowed a mouthful of cold saliva mixed with blood.

".That's it."

He spoke with difficulty, looking through the bulletproof glass at the child tied to the iron bed, and whispered in pain.

“He’s seeing what I’m seeing.”

Yes, see what he sees.

Rewind the clock seven hours ago, to the moment when Caril Rohals summoned Jairzinho Guzmán from Fulgrim's home.

It took them only a few minutes to fully explain why they had summoned him and the severity of the problem, and the medical officer said that he needed samples and data, and if possible, he hoped to observe the moment with his own eyes.

So Fulgrim summoned his Chapter Master, Saul Tarvitz, and asked him if there had been any progress on the reserve - he replied that there had been - and then a child flew from the ground, took a shuttle straight into the clouds, and came to the Eagle's Wing.

He had a simple name, Sarron, given by his mother, who was from a remote planet, had met and married his father thirteen years before, and had arrived on Chemos six years before.

Sarron's father was a gunnery sergeant with extremely strong skills. He was born in the third city of Chemos. He was young, promising, and handsome. He was promoted and recognized professionally just four years after joining the army, and then served in the place where he and his wife were destined to be.
Two years after their marriage, their father died in battle and their planet was destroyed. Their mother moved to many places and finally came to Chemos in accordance with her husband's last wishes and influence. The planet accepted them without any reservations.

Sarron's special growth experience made him demonstrate extraordinary qualities and willpower in school and paramilitary training, and thus he was put on a special list by the secret government department of the Third City.

This list is updated every ten years and is kept in every city. It will only be given to Saul Tarvitz, who will visit these children one by one.
He approached them, got to know them, became friends with them, and then asked them if they were willing to join the Third Legion - at this moment, he was also standing in front of the bulletproof glass, staring at the child inside who was suffering torture and pain, in a daze.

He understood what Sarlun was going through. In the past, every child he brought had been tied up on a similar iron bed, cut open, and then bled, wailed, and laughed.

From the moment their gene-seed is implanted, they will begin to dream, dreams that come from Fulgrim, dreams that come from ten thousand years ago. They will see things they should not see, feel pains they should not feel.

Their minds are not yet able to bear such complex emotions, so if they can survive this, they will become mentally ill for a period of time due to the severe shock.

This may be the only luck among thousands of misfortunes. Thanks to this, the pharmacists of the Third Legion can finally use psychological suggestion and various potions to make them passively "forget" the terrible dream, so that they can retain their sanity and personality.

But the price is that no anesthetics or painkillers can be used in the subsequent 18 operations. Once he falls into a deep coma or mental disorder due to external stimulation, the nightmare will come back again.

In order to survive the subsequent surgeries, the reservists even had to spend an extra two years under the strict supervision of the princes to hone their bodies and strengthen their stamina. However, even so, there was no guarantee that they could survive the entire surgical process.
Sol Tarvitz closed his eyes and, like his primarch, took a few steps back until he was far away from the bulletproof glass, then lowered his head to take a few breaths of air, like a drowning man.

After a few minutes, Sarlun calmed down. His body was covered with blood and sweat, and his muscles were twitching. Due to excessive struggle and uncontrollable convulsions, many of his blood vessels had burst, and blood was still dripping.

A hand wearing a medical glove reached out from the side and gently lifted his head. The robotic arm next to the iron bed moved automatically, sprayed disinfectant, and then the wound suturing began.

The operator was very careful, meticulous, and professional. The needle in his hand pierced the boy's flesh with a gentle force that his predecessors, colleagues, or successors would never have, bringing the suture line in, and then even remembered to wipe off the blood stains.

It took him two minutes to completely suture Sarron's wounds, then he replaced a bag of plasma and nutrient solution for him, took off his gloves, walked through the disinfection valve, and then left the room and came out of the bulletproof glass.

"It's a terrible situation," he declared simply. "The kid is extremely lucky to be alive."

Kalil, who had been standing aside and had not spoken, finally coughed lightly: "Jairzinho, do you have a conclusion?"

"Of course there is, but I'm afraid it's not the conclusion you and Lord Fulgrim would like to hear. Let me tell you the main point first."

The medical officer, still wearing his bloodstained scrubs, turned to the Primarch of the Third Legion, looked him squarely in the eyes, and spoke calmly.

"He is incredibly compatible with your gene seed, and this level of compatibility is impossible based on human physiological structure."

"In the Legion era, we had a saying called a natural midnight blade - this evaluation is mostly because the person's personality is extremely suitable for our Legion, but Sarron is different. He is truly physiologically adapted to your gene seed. I can even say that he should be a child of the Emperor. But this is impossible, do you understand?"

Fulgrim was silent for a moment, then replied: "But wasn't compatibility a frequently discussed topic in the past? Whose gene-seed is highly compatible with whose -"

The medical officer interrupted him mercilessly: "——That statement is essentially correct, but the subject of the description is wrong. There has always been gene seeds adapting to or conquering a person's ordinary flesh and blood, not the so-called situation of someone adapting to gene seeds."

"Think about it carefully, my lord. Are you the same species as mortals? Is your blood the same as mortal blood? If you can understand and accept this, then you will understand how incredible Sarron's current situation is in my eyes."

Fulgrim fell silent again, as did Sol Tarvitz, both thinking in much the same way. Khalil saw it all, and decided to speak again.

"So, in Sarron's case, it's like Fulgrim's blood has adapted to his body? That's what you said, which is true in essence, but wrong in the subject?" "Yes." The medical officer turned to him expressionlessly. "Just like you summoned me with a scalpel you found at random, and used a lion's leg bone as the material to make me appear in the world. It's true in essence, but there are also some mistakes."

Khalil took off his hat, grasped his left wrist with his right hand, and looked away in silence and without a word, but the medical officer continued.

"Don't you have any common sense about the occult? Your actions are likely to cause the magic circle to go wrong, and once this happens, there is no possibility of reversal."

"I am not concerned that you or Lord Fulgrim would be in any danger if the errant summons arrived, but it would be highly unprofessional of you to do so. Although you yourself could be considered a very helpful medium for summoning me, the lion's leg bone -"

Jairzinho Guzman took a deep breath of the cold air that smelled of disinfectant and blood, and said slowly, "—It is definitely not a high-quality material in the modern world."

"It is very likely that my appearance in this world will be slightly different from what people think of me. In my opinion, even if you throw a whole piece of stone into the summoning circle, it will be much better than a leg bone."

"But the lion is actually of Terran descent, just like you, Jairzinho."

"Yes." The medical officer's eye twitched. "So?"

"So, please forgive me for my unprofessional behavior this time." Khalil spread his hands very carefully. "I will learn from my lesson and never make the same mistake again."

The medical officer was silent for a few seconds, then abruptly changed the subject: "In short, based on my understanding of human physiology, Sarlun's current situation should not have happened."

"From the most basic underlying logic, it is impossible for his gene seed to be so compatible with yours, Lord Fulgrim. Therefore, I must temporarily abandon science and turn to mysticism to explain this phenomenon."

His words made the Chemos people, who had been silent all this time, look over suddenly, as if they had thought of something.

Jairzinho frowned, thought for a moment, and then said, "I think the abnormal adaptability shown by this child can be traced back to two reasons."

"The first is his identity as a descendant of the Chemos. His father is a pure-blooded Chemos. The second is his family situation."

"I have read the relevant information brought by Chapter Captain Saul Tarvitz. The name Sarron means the Son of Pain in the dialect of his mother's hometown. He was born a year after they got married. At that time, the gunnery sergeant had already set foot on the battlefield."

"From this, it can be seen that Sarlun's name was given by his mother. Based on this, it can be inferred that during the six years that the mother and son were wandering on the road, when he was still a child, he must have been told many stories about his father by his mother."

"How they met, what his father was like, what he looked like, what his personality was like, and most importantly: why his father died."

The medical officer suddenly paused, his face, which had been as cold as ice since he walked out of the operating room, finally softened, and his voice became calm.

".Children also know hatred, everyone, and that is my second point - this child has a lot of hatred in his heart."

Phoenix closed his eyes again, but this time he seemed particularly calm, as if he had finally given up, like a person hanging upside down on the edge of a cliff who finally lost his strength and fell down, with only the humming sound of the wind in his ears. However, at this moment, he became even calmer.

"Should I continue?" Jairzinho asked softly.

"Go on," Phoenix said, closing his eyes. "If you feel that your unspoken conclusion is the same as what I have in my heart, then speak out, Guzman."

"As you wish." The medical officer sighed. "My final conclusion is that Sarron and every Emperor's child who has survived the Third Legion's transformation surgery in the past ten thousand years are mystically connected to you. And the source of this connection is you yourself."

Saul Tarvitz suddenly roared: "Ridiculous! What are you implying?!"

"He wasn't hinting, Saul, he was merely pointing out the truth, and that's the truth. I stayed in Chemos too long, and even though my father saved me from the brink of destruction, my incompetence still left its mark."

"For Chemos, I am like a walking nuclear warhead of enormous yield, which will subtly affect the people of Chemos - otherwise how do you explain the evidence he pointed out? You know very well, my son, that the facts are not much different from what Doctor Jairzinho said."

"I am the source of pollution for the Chemos people."

He stopped talking, and an extremely complicated smile suddenly appeared on his face. His eyes were crying, and the sadness in them was too heavy to describe, but he had to pretend to be relaxed and raise the corners of his mouth, pretending that nothing was wrong.
Even if tears of blood have already slid down my cheeks.

And so he walked step by step towards Caryl Rohals.

"I still think the first option is better." Chemos' Phoenix leaned over to his ear and whispered softly, with a hint of laughter in his voice. "What do you think, Khalil?"

A moment later, he received a loud slap in the face.

But the instigator was not the Grand Inquisitor, but a giant wearing a black robe and a moonlight crown.

"idiot!"

He roared and his expression was extremely angry, but he only revealed a little of his inner anger, and immediately raised his arms and hugged his tearful brother.

"Come on, Fulgrim," Konrad Curze whispered in great sorrow. "Please cheer up, will you?"

(End of this chapter)