40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 766 55. Regaining Hope (XII)
Balboa has fought in many places—in bitterly cold places, in blazingly hot places, in ruins filled with madmen, or in places so beautiful that it's hard to believe a rebellion could break out there.
Thanks to the war and his profession, he had been to more places than most people in the empire could even imagine, but he never thought this was a good thing.

After all, he had only one purpose in going to these places.

Balboa pulled the trigger of the lasgun in his hand until it died.

A red beam of light burst out from the front of his arm, piercing the cold air and knocking to the ground something he couldn't recognize. It was a furry creature, small in size, but with claws as thick as the Astartes' combat daggers.

Even so, it is still a flesh and blood body, and it will fall down if it is hit by three or two shots from the laser gun.

No room for negotiation, the captain thought angrily. What is this called? Ah, yes, the laws of physics.
He turned around and continued to pour fire rain with his hands.

More young men like him, wearing black military uniforms, were doing the same thing. Light beams swept across the low snow hills, hitting large groups of similar beasts.

They fell to the ground, their carcasses rotting into something like mud under the powerful hind hooves of their fellows, oozing a dirty red, sinking into the snow, and then becoming an inconspicuous stain.
Balboa silently estimated the distance, two hundred meters, one hundred meters, fifty meters - he stood in the cold wind with his eyes squinted, staring at the group of wild beasts that were like an avalanche, but when they approached to within thirty meters, he suddenly let go of his hand and let the gun fall naturally.

The cloth belt, which had long been worn to fit his skin, suddenly sank down, without causing any impact on him; his movements remained smooth.

A string of grenades was handed to him from behind, and he grabbed it without even looking at it, then pulled out the safety pin and threw it. More strings of grenades followed closely behind, and were continuously thrown forward from the hands of the black hounds.
After that, all that was left to do was to lie down where they were, but the dull sound of the laser gun continued to be heard.

Seven minutes ago, when they confirmed that they would face this group of beasts, the battle formation of the Sixth Company was immediately established. Thirty people were the first batch of firepower, and the remaining seventy people held their guns and did not fire until the old chain grenade flew across the sky. Then they would open fire to fill the gap in firepower.

Lying in the snow, after silently counting to three seconds amid the ringing in his ears and the pain brought by the waves of fire, Balboa rolled to his feet, grabbed the gun and continued firing.

The 'Hound IV' short laser rifle in his hand was a special award given to the entire Hellhound unit after they had served for three centuries.

This model is derived from the reliable Mastow MK2, and the energy level of a single beam is 21 megagrams, which is already very powerful in counterinsurgency operations, but it is far from the limit of the Hound IV. At the same time, it also has a large-capacity energy battery that can support up to normal shots or high-energy shots.

It was enough to support the combat needs of the hellhounds in any situation. Soon, all the beasts that attacked them became corpses, without any escape.

The captain breathed a sigh of relief quietly, lowered his head to replace the energy box, but suddenly a noisy sound came from the headset he was wearing.

He frowned and listened attentively for a while, but soon the sound disappeared along with his expectations.

He cursed inwardly, changed the magazine, checked himself again to make sure there were no unnoticed injuries, then raised his head and looked at the sky.

In his memory, this damn museum had a large dark dome, which was so dark that it was frightening, as if some man-eating monsters might rush out of it at any time.

But not now. Now, the scene riding above all of their heads was a pale sky, cloudless and with piercing sunlight.

The low horizon floated to the far end, revealing large patches of silent pure white, and the surroundings were full of coldness. If the Hounds were not wearing thicker uniforms, their current situation would probably be even worse.
"Captain," a voice came from behind him. "We still can't contact General Svante."

Balboa curled his lips - two hours ago, when he rejoined the team, he would never have expected that one day he would be under the direct command of a general, and even the general had a marshal above him.
And all this is thanks to that crazy alien who has no idea why he built such a museum.

If it hadn't been messing around like that, their current situation wouldn't have been so passive.

Communication errors are actually a small matter. Being a pioneer means being prepared to fight in the most unfavorable environment, but the problem is that the hounds were originally prepared to fight in a museum, not in this damn snowy world.

The captain turned and gestured to his adjutant, a savage smile flashing across his face.

"If you can't get in touch, keep trying until you can. Are you going to come and report this to me, too, sly guy?"

He called the other person by his name affectionately, walked towards him, and put his arm around the young man's shoulder.

"But I have to say it in advance. If something bad happens again, for example, we walk a distance forward and the snow and ice disappear like the museum before, and turn into an erupting volcano or some other damn place, I will have to order the signal soldiers to temporarily put down their work."

The young man he embraced hesitated for a moment, but still nodded: "Okay, Captain - although this is not in line with military discipline."

"Get out of here, you rascal, you bastard." The captain laughed and scolded, letting him go. "I'm the superior, and you're using military discipline to pressure me?"

The sly one saluted him and ran away.

The sound of additional gunfire continued to be heard around him, which was extremely dull and sounded almost like someone hitting minced meat on a chopping board with a hammer. Balboa restrained his smile and looked up at the sky again, almost glaring at the pale sunlight.

He didn't understand what was going on, but since he woke up, nothing that happened in his world was something he could understand.

At this point, the captain had long given up thinking and instead brought to his mind two creeds that had been engraved deep in his mind since he joined the army.

Loyal. Fearless. For the Emperor.

The captain licked his teeth, raised his gun, and ordered a rally. The Sixth Company responded to him at an extremely fast speed. None of these flesh and blood bodies under the black military uniforms were hurt, and they still had the reliable appearance that they had been trained for many years after joining the army.

He scanned each face one by one, unconsciously comparing them with the first people he knew in his memory.
There is absolutely no comparison between those scumbags who can't even stand straight, have tattoos all over their faces and look like scoundrels, and these young people with clean faces and determined eyes.

In an instant, the words I had heard from the alien named Zandrick came to my mind.

"I should have died long ago, but at least I know more than you, Captain! You are still stupid and confused. You think your race and empire have perished, right? You are wrong, they are still alive and well!"

The captain patted his shoulder to cover up the rest.

He didn't know how many years they had spent here, but he thought it would be at least a century. After all, he had seen some outdated weapons and guns he had never seen before when they gathered together.

In other words, the empire has been developing and moving forward. So what does it look like now?
Does it remember us? Have we been replaced, just as illiterate scum and drunkards are replaced by well-trained young men?
"Okay, listen to me, you unlucky guys--" Balboa began slowly.

"——As expected, we were thrown into the most dangerous place again, but this time it was not a tactical arrangement, so we probably won't have any backup support. In this case, our best strategy is to protect ourselves. After all, as you just saw, this damn place doesn't even have any traditional enemies for us to kill."

He pointed at the beast beside him, then raised his chin and nodded to a soldier at the front of the queue.

"Sergeant Ella, tell me what you found out about them."

The sergeant, military doctor and experienced 'veterinarian' stepped forward, walked out of the line, and began to report meticulously.

"These beasts have many characteristics of carnivores. I dissected a few of them and found some undigested meat and bones in their stomachs. Judging from the fibers and shape, this meat is not human flesh, which means there are other animals here—"

A loud noise came from the sky, interrupting Ella's narration, but Balboa was actually a little relieved.

He knew his men too well, especially the few freaks among them, and Ella Talley was definitely the best among them. He was powerful, calm, and had many skills. The only flaw was that he particularly liked hunting, or murdering animals.

He could talk for hours on anything having to do with these things.

Balboa had asked him to talk initially just to hear his analysis of that beast, but he changed the subject to new animals, which made it inevitable to listen to his rambling for a while.
Fortunately, he was interrupted, but what was that noise?
The captain turned around and saw that he had a gun in his hand.

There was a sound of rapid footsteps behind him, which meant that the Sixth Company was deploying its troops. They were able to take such action immediately without receiving any orders, which showed that their tactical skills were excellent.
But Balboa himself was a little stunned.

Not for anything else, just because of the gap that suddenly appeared in the sky.

It is extremely thick, like a huge canyon that can completely split a continent, but its edge is extremely flat, as if someone took a sword and cut a hole in the sky. Endless black sea water is gushing out from it, rumbling, and the sound echoes between heaven and earth, enough to deafen people.

Soon, the ground began to shake violently. Water as black as the gums of the dead washed away everything in the distance, destroying the snow-capped mountains, hills, trees, and everything along the way. This terrifying force was beyond everything, and the captain even felt that the extermination order he had never seen before was just like this.

He finally came to his senses belatedly - but several seconds had passed.

What to do? Escape? There is nowhere to escape. The surroundings are flat!

Balboa stared at the devastating wave with wide eyes, and instinctively raised the light gun in his hand.

Behind him, the soldiers of the 6th Company of the 21st Hellhound Regiment were waiting with their guns raised, just like him.
-
"The barrier between dimensions has completely disappeared," the Necrontyr-era librarian muttered with wide eyes. "But the first reaction was actually fusion?"

A voice asked him calmly: "Haven't you done similar experiments before?"

The librarian turned around and gave the man with his sleeves rolled up a dry smile.

"Yes, of course, sir. But no one has ever done it on such a large scale as I have."

"So you don't know what's going to happen next?" Khalil asked.

The librarian was silent for a long time before answering the question: "I can only give a guess."

"Then speculate," Khalil said. "I'm all ears."

He bent the little finger and ring finger of his right hand, and put his middle finger and index finger together and slightly bent them, with the thumb extending upward, as if he was holding a knife.

".Do you know about the Autonomous Soul? A highly intelligent super program that runs everything for the Necrons while they sleep."

The librarian with the appearance of a necrophile paused for a moment, not feeling strange about the word "they" in his mouth, and continued speaking very naturally.

"Nevertheless, the Autonomous Souls are nothing more than a stupid program on a large scale to the Necrons. They do have a certain degree of personification, though. Therefore, I believe that this sudden fusion of dimensions is actually the Autonomous Soul of Solomus trying to save itself."

"If these dimensions are successfully merged, they will officially become part of Solomus. Even though they may be messy, such as having the characteristics of various large exhibition halls at the same time, as long as the fusion is successful, the reality stabilization device will immediately take effect and force the material world to recognize that this is the original appearance of Solomus."

Khalil listened to everything quietly and asked, "What impact will this have?"

"Uh, saved Solomus from destruction?" The librarian hesitantly threw out a guess.

"But this does not seem to have any impact on the war situation. Almost all the lords and nobles who came to garrison have been infected. It is impossible for them to mobilize troops in a short period of time to help the only undead fleet."

"Very good, keep paying attention." Khalil said expressionlessly. "If anything happens, please inform me immediately. I know you can do it."

As soon as he finished speaking, he was about to turn around and leave. Fortunately, the librarian, who had experienced a similar situation for the second time, was well prepared and called him back.

"But, my lord, what about the Necron fleet? Won't it have an impact on us?"

Khalil looked back at him, his tone suddenly becoming a little strange: "You are not human, so what do you mean by 'we'?"

The librarian shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "At least we are now on the same front, sir. And, it is foreseeable that this will continue for a long time."

"Don't worry about him," said Khalil. "A man who sticks to his principles is worthy of respect. Besides, he can't win at all."

(End of this chapter)