40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 764 53. Regaining Hope (X)

In a banquet hall in Sollems, many undead lords and lords were gathered with smaller nobles, toasting and toasting, making the scene very lively.

A gemstone with a radius of ten meters after being evenly cut was suspended above their heads, radiating a wonderful light. The Necrontyr who created it probably spent his entire life polishing it, but now the iron skeletons sitting under it had no respect for it.

Some of them who are still sane are busy attacking each other, insulting each other or exchanging interests. As for those who woke up from their slumber but unfortunately lost something? They are even less likely to look up and appreciate this gem.
Zandrick shook the wine glass in his right hand, leaned back in his chair and observed the noisy scene in front of him with boredom, his heart calm.

His eyes swept across the wine glasses in the hands of the nobles and the dust on the edges, across the empty plates and the scarab that was cleaning the table back and forth, and finally stopped at a wide glass window in the corner.

He didn't want to watch any more - in such a huge banquet hall, he was the only one whose glass was filled with real wine.

The old general laughed softly, his laughter overflowing with sarcasm. He raised his hand, raised the glass to the window, and then tilted his head back to pour all the wine in the glass onto himself.

This crazy behavior naturally attracted a lot of attention. Many lords who didn't like him in the first place cast cold gazes at him, some of whom were even filled with anger.

They never liked Zandrek. They thought that a madman like him was a disgrace to the entire race, but they couldn't do anything about him - Storm King Imotekh gave this madman great power.

Although all this is based on the hundreds of victories that the crowned general has won after waking up
But power is power after all.

So, my dear compatriots, what are you going to do?

Zandrick nodded gracefully to those glances one by one, then stood up and announced in public that he was "not feeling well" and would leave the venue to rest.

This was an extremely rude behavior, but he had done many more rude things in the past, so they all decided to watch him leave.

Zandrek sneered even more deeply in his heart, and with the empty golden cup in his hand, he left this lifeless place with his head held high like a victorious general.

Outside the gate, his guard Obian bowed to him.

"I hope you haven't waited too long, my friend. I'd like to leave soon, but I've got to keep up appearances, don't you?"

The royal guard still said nothing, just nodded, and followed the crowned general, like a low-level undead warrior with no personality at all.

Sollemus is a unique world, even for the undead, it deserves this prefix. Its shell is composed of countless tiny mechanical structures as small as dust. It looks harmless, but in fact, it can surge into a wave of destruction with just one command.

A series of energy-capturing protocol devices called 'mirrors' float in its sky, collecting all the excess energy from Sollemus' daily operations and transporting it to another system, giving it an artificial sun and atmosphere that the undead do not need at all.

Trazyn carefully designed all of this, and then placed all of his collected collections under the ordinary shell of Solemus.
At least, that was the case for the lords and nobles who were still busy holding so-called meetings in the banquet hall.

They had long lost interest in Trazyn's collection and were only interested in continuing the political struggle they had written into the underlying logic of their mind protocol.

For them, since they were assigned to be stationed here, they only needed to wait until the Endless Trazyn was captured and brought to justice. At that time, everything in Sollems would be officially laid out on the table and then divided up.

Those who capture Trazyn will naturally get the lion's share, but as guards, they can also get a lot of treasures.

But do they really care about those things?

Zandrick thought they probably didn't care at all, they were just playing a role-playing game.
Play your former self.

How pathetic, the crowned general thought calmly. He was in a high position, holding supreme power, but he had completely forgotten what the essence of power was made of.

With his hands behind his back, he led his best and most loyal friend into a dark corridor.

There are countless such paths under Solomus, but even Trazyn himself probably can't explain the specific functions of each of them.

However, he probably doesn't need to use these dusty roads on a daily basis, and teleportation is his favorite way of moving. Zandrek is at the other extreme - he loves walking and has a fanatical pursuit of being down to earth.

Therefore, these days, he has almost explored the starting and ending points of hundreds of passages, and even measured them many times with his own feet.
This gave him a huge tactical advantage for what he was about to do - again, a huge tactical advantage.

When Crowned General Zandrek used these words to describe the war he was about to start, even the Storm King himself would sit up and listen.

"How are our prisoners doing?" Zandrek asked as if he was chatting, and his footsteps echoed, heavy as a death knell.

"Which one do you mean?"

Zandrick shrugged humorously. "Of course it's the one who always insults me. To be honest, old friend, I think the astrologer may be a little prejudiced against me. Has he ever been polite to me when he saw me?"

Obiang seemed to sigh, and then slowly replied: "In my impression, there is no but, sir, after all, he is in prison and suffering."

"And I was the one who started it." The old general added very consciously, but there was no trace of smile in his words. "Well, in that case, it seems that we are even."

He stopped, took out a metal ball with his personal mark from his waist, and handed it solemnly to Obiang.

"Go find him, Obiang, and set him free."

The guard lowered his head in silence, staring at his master, and only broke the silence gently after a long time.

"Are we really going to do this?"

The old general smiled—a genuine smile. The living metal that made up his iron face squirmed and changed shape, making the smile look completely harmless.

Although it was strange to say this, his smile was surprisingly gentle, like an old man over 70 who was reminiscing about the past.

"My friend, you are hesitating. You do not know whether this is right or wrong. You are afraid that it will bring us another terrible betrayal."

"But the guard Obiang I know would not have such unnecessary emotions. He would only execute my orders in silent thinking, thinking that he had considered everything for me."

"In fact, I don't think he has any emotions at all, and all the decisions he makes are simply imitations of the personality and memories of Obiang the Necrontyr."

The guard was silent for a while, then replied stiffly: "This guard, who has no emotions at all, has offered you his full loyalty. I don't think your evaluation just now is fair."

"No, his loyalty comes from Obiang's loyalty to the former Deathfearer Zandrek, and the same is true of his friendship. But now, my friend, you are doubting - you have violated the infinite obedience to the superiors in your mind agreement. Tell me, can a program-driven iron machine do such a thing?"

The guard was speechless.

The old general laughed and turned away, leaving his only friend in the darkness, just as he had done in the Bioforge.
But darkness will eventually be swallowed up by greater darkness.

He has already come.

Zandrek walked calmly, without any fear.

He knew that he was walking on a steady road. Although he could not see clearly what was in front of him, this road had an end, unlike the one he had been forced to take, which was full of endless emptiness and torture. From this point of view alone, this new road was tens of thousands of times better than the old one.

Eternity is scary.

There was a green light flickering in Zandrick's eyes. He stopped, pushed open a stone door, and walked in. There was a strange clicking sound.

He walked towards the voice, raised his right hand with ease, and placed it on a piece of cold steel.

The clicking stopped, and another energy, different from the Necromancer's reactor energy, began to surge within the object. It was crude and primitive, and the Necrons had long since abandoned it.

In the galaxy today, humans use it the most.

electricity.

The blue light illuminated Xandrek's face, showing his smile.

If the group of dead souls still arguing in the banquet hall could put aside their arrogance for a moment, they would be able to discover the backup plan left by the Endless One Trazyn, but they were unwilling to do so, even though it would only take a few hours to find a grave technician to scan the entire Sollems.

"It's just a human collection!"

The crowned general mimicked the words of the lords and nobles in a low voice.

"What's so strange about that? Eh? Old Zandrick? Are you still hysterical? That traitor just likes to hang out with primitive apes! You'd better sit down and talk to us about the ownership of these properties!"

He took two steps back, patted his face to restore the living metal to its original state, and then refused expressionlessly.

"No," he said. "Arrogance destroys everything. I've seen it happen once before."

The steel began to tremble, then opened, and in the steam brought by the high temperature, an illusory figure emerged from the surging current and stood in front of Zandrick.

He was wearing a cloak and holding a scepter. He looked old and wise. A book was hanging around his waist with a name written on it.

Trazin.

"Hello, Endless One." The old general greeted him warmly. "We meet again."

The Necrontyr-era librarian nodded at him, a smile on his face.

"It seems that you have accepted my proposal? Very good, you really did not disappoint my original body's trust, General Dai Guan. Although you and he have never actually met, he has always known that you are different from others."

"No need to say such polite words. I have heard too many similar words from you these days. A true Endless One cannot be so flattering as you."

The librarian raised an eyebrow and expressed his objection.

"No, don't think that I am different from him because of my appearance. He deliberately portrayed me as I was in the past. It was a harmless mockery. But I am indeed him, at least before I was declared a traitor."

Zandrick raised his right hand, indicating that the topic was over. The librarian extended his left hand with understanding, and handed the illusory scepter upward. A tiny electric current flashed from the top of the scepter in his hand, and it entered into Sollemus's operating protocol.

At first, it did not cause any problems and the built-in detection routines were not even aware of its presence until it entered the protocol terminal and was then automatically decoded.

In this way, the supreme power belonging to the overlord of the Solomus dynasty returned.

It took over all the running machines and programs in an instant, and completely tampered with the underlying logic of the protocol. The defense system that had been running endlessly was suddenly offline, and all kinds of energy supplies were also cancelled. Everything that Sollems was proud of began to fall.
Its dark shell trembled for a moment, and then collapsed in an instant. If someone could observe it from the vast Milky Way, they would be able to see this shocking spectacle - in just a blink of an eye, a desolate and dead world suddenly collapsed, revealing its majestic underneath.

Tombstone-like spires, endless green light, powerful warships docked in the dock, and a huge, indescribable piece of land.

In Soloms' own system of definition, it was named a museum.

Now, with all other energy systems shut down, it is the only independent area that can continue to operate for five minutes. Its automatic maintenance program will arrange everything properly before it goes offline completely.

The librarian began to laugh.

The laughter was so intense that it was enough to scare people. At this moment, he was no longer an illusory shadow, but a real living person, a necrophile, an old soul who had supreme hatred for the so-called Necrons.

He was dragged into the furnace of life by his compatriots, and then endured endless pain, sinking and dissolving in the eternal time. When he woke up, he found that the things he cherished in the past had long disappeared, leaving behind a dead world and a group of living tombstones that deceived themselves, while the laughter of the dead god who started it all the time echoed in his ears.

Its mockery lasted for every day he existed as a Necron.

Such hatred was enough for him to do many things, such as this one - he engraved a rune into all the energy channels of Sollems.

Human witches and sorcerers have used it to curse their mortal enemies, and shamans and priests have held it in their hands and offered blood, begging it to kill the ghosts wandering around.

It traveled a long way from the barbaric era of mankind, through the future, through the present, and finally arrived in the past, to the era of prosperity of the Deathly Haunted, and left its own mark there.

Though it is long forgotten, Trazyn the Infinite was the best archaeologist in the galaxy, and collected all the Necrontyr history he could find.

From it he got a name, and a sect of Necrontyr who had believed in it—the deceived, who had once believed in another god? It was absurd, but Trazyn believed that seeing was believing.

Let's go back a few years to a night when he was still deep in thought in his studio at the museum.
That night, there were five black stones in front of him, with ancient Necrontyr writing carved on their surfaces. Many of them had been worn away, making the words written on them unclear. Trazyn had tried to repair them tens of thousands of times, but had never succeeded once.

Until this night.

The stone was broken into pieces, and the fragments fell to the ground, forming a rune.

Trazyn drew 55,555 copies of it himself.

And now, in the energy hub of Solomus, they began to glow brightly.

"Okay!" In the violent electric current, the librarian's smile became brighter and brighter. "That's it!"

"Did you succeed?" asked Zandrick.

"Of course - I have been preparing for so long, and with your help, how could I fail?"

General Dai Guan nodded, took a few steps back, and was about to turn around and leave.

The librarian saw this and quickly stopped him, asking in confusion: "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to do what I have to do." The Crowned General said calmly. "I am the overlord of the Gedrim Dynasty and the Crowned General under the Storm King. I was ordered by him to guard Sollems. I am a soldier and cannot flee from the battlefield."

Hearing his words, the librarian was visibly stunned.

"What?" he asked incredulously. "But you've already--"

"——No." The Crowned General interrupted him. "Helping you release those humans does not mean that I will surrender to Him. I have my principles, Endless. Just as you can give up everything for us, I will also temporarily protect those soldiers and civilians for the honor of a soldier. But I am a soldier after all. I can only die in battle or lose, that's all."

He turned and left, striding away without a second thought. His last words pierced the librarian's ears like a steel sword.

"Tell the humans, the Endless. Tell them that the Crowned General Zandrek, the overlord of the Gedrim Dynasty, awaits their challenge."
-

Balboa gripped his gun in confusion.

What happened? He frowned, staring at the empty cell door, and habitually raised his gun. Whenever he felt something was wrong, he would do this.

This habit had saved his life more than once in the past, but what about this time? Would it work again? The captain himself didn't know the answer.

He waited cautiously for a moment before walking out.

This damn place was still the same, dark and cold, without any light. He walked forward tentatively, pointing the gun forward, and walked slowly.
He walked for several minutes, and the surroundings were still quiet, with only the sounds of his own breathing and footsteps.

The alien and its guards did not appear.

Balboa narrowed his eyes, put his finger on the trigger, and continued to move forward.

He was surprisingly calm, like a bullet that had not yet been loaded. It already knew its fate, but remained forever calm before it was fired or encountered fire and lightning.

He walked and walked until he reached the end of the road.

There used to be the green light of the undead here. He didn't like this light because it made everything hateful. But now, when it went out, he began to miss it again.

He stood there and waited, but no light came.

Well, I think so. You alien bastards just can't bear to see us end up well. Except for you, Zandrick, you lunatic are not bad.

The captain lowered his head, hung the gun belt around his neck, then took a deep breath, took out a dog tag from the inside pocket of his uniform, put it in his mouth, and pressed it under his tongue.

"Come on, fuck."

He swore incoherently and rushed forward, crashing into the vast darkness, but came up empty.

There was no longer anything under his feet, only emptiness and nothingness, but he did not fall, but floated up.

The captain's calmness quickly turned into anger, and he himself didn't know why he was so angry.

He started to roar.

"Where are the people?!" he yelled. "Where are they all dead? Where did you run to?"

He looked around furiously, trying to see through the endless darkness and see the people who were frozen in it - his people, his compatriots.

Even if he's just an annoying quartermaster, it's okay?

If he really saw a quartermaster dressed in a decent manner and with a proud attitude, he would pick him up and give him a big kiss. However, no quartermaster appeared, and there was still only darkness around.

Terrible guesses came to his mind, and the captain's roar gradually became more shrill, almost like a dying man.
He struggled in the void for a long time, and finally closed his mouth with a gasp.

He covered his face.

Am I crazy? Are all those people I saw - children, civilians, soldiers, officers, nuns, Astartes - just hallucinations? I clearly remember that there were people everywhere, battlefields everywhere, and deserts and ruins on both sides of the road.
No, no, no. That's not right. I don't believe it.

I don't--!
A light appeared from beneath him, engulfing him, almost as if a giant beast had eaten him.

Along with it came a dull roar, as if it was growling in satisfaction.

But Balboa had served for many years, and some sounds were engraved in his bones, so he didn't need to think too much to figure out what the roar was.

It was a Taurus, not a single mistake. Even if he was dead, he would not have mistaken the rough breathing sound.

The captain fell heavily to the ground, the sky was spinning, the light was still there, making him dizzy and almost crying. He wanted to stand up, but he fell too hard, so someone reached out and grabbed him and helped him up.

"Sir!" someone called him. "Which unit are you from?"

"Hellhound!" he answered instinctively. "I am Captain Balboa of the Sixth Company of the Twenty-first Hellhound Regiment!"

The person who called him said something again, but he couldn't hear it this time. He barely stood up straight, rubbing his eyes, trying desperately to make them return to normal as soon as possible.
In the midst of burning pain, he opened his eyes with a grin and saw a vast ocean. The sky was filled with gunboats and transport planes, and soldiers in various military uniforms spread from his eyes to the end of his sight. Armored vehicles and tanks were ready to go, being repaired or inspected among the crowd, and the sound of bullets being loaded was endless.

He stared at all this in a daze, completely forgetting to think, until the man pushed him, and then he came to his senses.

"Move back, sir!" the soldier who helped him up shouted. "Your troops are waiting for you in the back, they have assembled!"

"Wha, what?"

"Go back!"

The soldier pointed, and Balboa did as he was told. He walked back, through the sea of ​​people, and then found some familiar reefs.

They were wearing the same black military uniforms as him, with familiar and reliable calmness on their young faces. They were checking each other and making all the preparations for the war in an orderly manner.
Balboa rushed in front of them.

(End of this chapter)