40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 734 26. Interlude: Precious Future (I)

It took Fulgrim four days to wake up and walk. Even then, he could not walk naturally. At this stage, he even had to rely on crutches or the help of others to walk.

Ultimately, what Nurgle did to him in his garden could not be simply described as 'harm', it was more like 'transformation' or 'reform'.
Taking this into consideration, Belisarius Caul said frankly that the biggest miracle was that he could survive, let alone walk naturally, and live in his original appearance.

"When we found you, you looked almost the same as a corpse, sir." The ruling sage who was about to be promoted again said so, and then bowed slightly. "Please forgive my bluntness."

Phoenix smiled bitterly and shook his head - not to mention that he didn't care about this matter at all, even if he cared, he couldn't get angry with Cawl. In the past four days, he had read most of the post-event reports roughly despite Sanguinius's obstruction.
Belisarius Cawl played a vital role in this battle. He single-handedly destroyed most of the vines, cleared the surface and rescued the survivors with amazing efficiency.

Without him, it would have been impossible for 52% of the Chemos people to survive. Although this number was reduced significantly in the subsequent large-scale epidemics, Kaul had done everything he could, and in every way, he owed Chemos a debt of gratitude.

"More like him than me?" another person asked curiously. "Did you take any pictures? I want to see."

His words caused the small meeting room to fall silent for a moment - Fulgrim frowned, Ferrus Manus looked like he was about to sigh, Sanguinius smiled stiffly, and Belisarius Cawl uttered a strange grunt.
"What's wrong?" Khalil, still wearing his hospital gown, spread his hands toward them in confusion. "Did I say something wrong?"

A hand covered in golden armor reached out from behind and gently placed on his shoulder, and the tribune La Endymion slowly spoke.

"Please stop joking for a moment. This is very important to us - this is a serious occasion, don't you think?"

"But I'm not kidding, la."

The tribune was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Is this also a joke?"

Khalil smiled, looked at everyone, leaned back in his chair, and shrugged with great satisfaction.

Sanguinius raised his hand to his forehead and said with helplessness and amusement: "Look at what you have done to a guard of the royal guard, Khalil. Anyway, please continue, great sage."

Kohl tapped his artificial eye habitually and nodded. The light screen behind him suddenly surged, and a lot of data and plans were presented on it.

He turned around, and one of his appendages extended, tapping on these complex numbers, cooperating with his eloquent speech and assisting in the explanation. Time passed quickly, and by the time the meeting was over and the plan to rebuild Chemos was finalized by Fulgrim himself, it had been a full six hours and twenty-seven minutes.

At this moment, the sky was not dark yet, and the sun was still hanging on the far side of the horizon, emitting infinite light and heat, penetrating the slowly unwinding clouds. Since the end of the war, there was no more gun smoke in this blue sky. It seemed to be as clear as before, without any change.

It fell into Phoenix's purple eyes, stirring up some waves. He stood in the wide corridor of Eagle Wing with his crutches, silently, staring at the sky through the window with an almost fascinated attitude.

Ferrus Manus came slowly to his side.

"Shouldn't you go back?" Phoenix said softly without turning his head. "You interrupted an expedition."

"I haven't finished the armor I promised to give you."

"You can send it over when you're done."

Gorgon shook his head slowly and firmly. "Some things must be delivered by hand."

Phoenix couldn't help but burst into laughter. The sound echoed among the empty steel and gradually dissipated, causing the gentleness in it to gradually become alienated and transformed into a vague sadness.

"Thank you for upholding these traditions, Ferrus."

"You don't need to thank me now. I wasn't the one who rebuilt your home planet, and I wasn't the one who handled those government affairs. Keep it until you see the armor."

After he finished speaking, he turned and left.

Phoenix turned sideways, leaning on his cane and staring at his back, his white hair hiding his expression. The sun shone on his back, bringing a warm itch. It was not until the figure of Ferrus Manus completely disappeared that he gave a low response.

"it is good."

What he didn't know was that at the corner of the corridor, Ferrus Manus was staring at two people who seemed to be waiting here nonchalantly, one with wings on his back and the other with a pale face.
There were many differences between them, such as physical proportions, clothing or demeanor, but just one thing in common was enough to destroy all these differences and make them prisoners of the same crime at the same time.

"Ahem," Sanguinius coughed. "The weather seems nice today, what do you think, Khalil?"

"Suitable for picnics." Khalil answered seriously, but his feet suddenly turned around and took him to the completely opposite direction.

Sanguinius stared at him with wide eyes, as if he had been betrayed - and Ferrus Manus's expressionless gaze was already looking back.

"Do you have anything else to say?" Tie Shou asked.

Sanguinius was silent for a few seconds before answering carefully, "Hmm, suitable for a picnic?"

"No, it's suitable for making armor."

After saying this, Iron Hand took a step back, folded his hands, and nodded his chin expressionlessly at Sanguinius: "What do you think?"

Sanguinius sighed, but still made a final effort: "Brother, I still have a lot of government affairs to deal with today."

"Throw them to Fulgrim."

"He's a patient! How can you bear to do this to him?"

Iron Hand shook his head and said no more. He just stretched out his right hand, grabbed the angel's shoulder, and pushed him forward.
-
For the next period of time, everything was carried out in an orderly manner according to the schedule given by Cawl. The large purification equipment of the Mechanicus fell from their mechanical arks one by one, piercing the surface like steel needles, pouring the torrent of machinery into Chemos's blood vessels, and this scarred world would once again usher in a new round of transformation.

This is the second time it has gone through a cycle of destruction and reconstruction. Would the colonists who set out from Terra tens of thousands of years ago have thought that it would be like this today? No one knows the answer. Chemos doesn't speak. She just stays here, accepting and acknowledging everything.

And in Eagle Wing, far above the ground, the only 307 remaining members of the Emperor's Children Legion were crowded in a medical hall watching an operation.

Most of them looked nervous, and some even took deep breaths to maintain superficial calm - this was in stark contrast to their performance in the disaster not long ago. How reliable and trustworthy were they then?
But now, no matter how long they have served and how many honors they have won, it is of no avail.
Even Saul Tarvitz.

"Why isn't it over yet?" He muttered to himself, his voice filled with anxiety that he himself was not aware of. Beside him, a huge steel creature captured his words completely.

He rumbled.

"Be patient, Tarvez. Medical Officer Jairzinho Guzman has said more than once that this operation is just a routine checkup, and Sarron's transformation has actually been completed long ago."

Tarvitz took a deep breath. "I understand. I understand. I'm just worried."

"No need to worry."

From his coffin, armor, and cage, the ancient sage Rilla once again offered gentle advice in a mechanical tone.

"I understand that whether Sarron's transformation can be successful is of great significance to us. In the long run, it is even the same for all the legions and chapters in the entire empire. But a plan is only a plan after all. Any plan has the possibility of failure. Don't regard it as a fact that it has already been successful."

Tarvitz was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head in self-mockery. “Even after all these years, you still make me feel ashamed in some ways, Ancient Sage.”

Fearless laughed a monotonous laugh and said no more.

Eleven minutes later, the indicator light on the operating room door turned from blue to green. The door slid open, and Jairzinho Guzmán walked out with steady steps in his spotless surgical gown.

Facing the eager or patient gazes of the emperor's sons, he looked around and gave a slow and powerful nod.

Saul Tarvitz let out a sigh of relief, but it was not a smile that followed. His juniors were celebrating with each other, but he did not. He just took a few steps back until he was against a wall, then lowered his head and began to take deep breaths as if he was afraid.
The princes did not know as much about this matter as he did. They only knew that Sarlon represented the hope of the Legion's rebirth, but they did not know what technology this hope was forged from. Tarvitz knew it clearly.

The pure blood of the Primarch, the new enhanced transformation confirmed by the Astartes codenamed "First Forge", and the "Raptor" technology born out of the past glory and endless pain of the Raven Guard.
Tarvitz learned the full story behind these events from Belisarius Cawl. During the two years that Fulgrim had disappeared, he had thought about whether to stop the plan countless times, but he never said it out loud.

Perhaps it was because of his understanding of the Primarch, or perhaps it was because Sarron had already recognized him because of the excellence and firm will he had demonstrated in training time and time again - in short, the matter was a foregone conclusion.

Sarron of Chemos would become the first true Primaris Astartes of the Imperium.

What are the Primaris? Tarvitz has no answer yet, but judging from the vision given by Cawl and the strong fighting power shown by the Primaris during the disaster, they will definitely be stronger than the old Astartes who only underwent 19 operations.
Old Astartes?
The Redresser couldn't help himself, and a complicated smile appeared on his drooping face - he really didn't expect that he would come up with such a made-up word. Old Astartes? What? Are they some kind of tools that can be updated at any time?
Yes. After a few seconds, he thought so and slowly stood up, his face no longer hidden in the darkness.

We are tools.
He walked towards Jairzinho Guzman, who was surrounded by a group of princes, looking very worried. Tarvitz knew at a glance that the medical officer from the Eighth Legion was beginning to miss the dark corner they were most familiar with.

With a smile, he walked into the crowd, looked around, and stopped the boiling noise instantly. Then he gestured to Guzman and led him out of the medical hall.

"What's the situation? I mean the specific situation." When he arrived outside the hall, he immediately asked.

"What are the details?" Guzman asked, facing the clear, cloudless night sky of Chemos. "What are his vital signs? The answer is that everything is normal. Rejection? No, those naturally grown organs are perfectly compatible."

"But I must admit to you that Tarvitz, Cawl, and I are concerned about his future. After all, he is different from the Firstborn. The Firstborn are stable, but what about him? Will he have any problems in battle?"

"I hope you understand that although Sarron has successfully passed the transformation surgery, it does not mean that this technology can be promoted immediately. Your legion may have to wait for a while to find out what the result will be. As for whether it will be good or bad, I cannot give any guarantee."

Saul Tarvitz shook his head slightly and just said, "These are things for the future. We'll talk about it later. As long as the child is okay, that's all."

Guzman did not answer. In the moonlight, his figure gradually became transparent. This abnormality immediately made Saul Tarvitz draw his bolter. He looked around vigilantly, but did not feel anything unusual.

When he turned around again, Jairzinho Guzman's figure had disappeared by nearly half, and the remaining upper body was fluctuating like an unstable projection screen, as if it would completely disappear at any time.

Tarvitz looked at him in shock, and it was not until several seconds later that he realized how this medical officer appeared in the world.
Guzman gave him a slight sneer: "You don't think I'm alive, do you, Tarvitz?"

The one who seeks justice remains silent.

"what!"

The medical officer of the Eighth Legion couldn't help but burst into laughter, but after laughing, his tone became serious again.

"I have written down my experience, observations, and all the key points to note in this operation. You can get them from Cole. Let your pharmacists practice diligently as soon as possible. Even if the final result of this matter is not what you and I want, those experiences can at least provide them with some valuable technical support. I am leaving now. Goodbye, cousin."

Tarvitz took a step forward and stretched out his right hand. In the collision between the virtual and the real, he actually grasped Guzman's hand that was about to disappear.

"Goodbye," he said sincerely. "Thank you very much."

A breeze blew, and the medical officer's figure completely disappeared.

(End of this chapter)