40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 770 58. Regaining Hope (XV)
Roboute Guilliman heard the unspoken words of the Necron General the moment Zandrek raised his head - where will the battle begin? Here.

As it should.

So, when the light and extremely fierce wind representing the transmission burst out from Zandrek's body, the Primarch of the Ultramarines immediately wanted to draw his sword. But Zandrek's hand held him tightly like an iron clamp, preventing his right hand from getting close to the dagger that was still in the sheath.

Guilliman narrowed his eyes, staring at the gradually distorted expression on Zandrik's iron face in the broken time, and then suddenly stepped back slightly to avoid a fatal blow.

Sanguinius withdrew his sword with a gloomy face.

Cut the air.

The sword hummed hungrily in his hand, eager to reap the life of his enemies, but Sanguinius had nothing to give it now.

The undead that he identified as the enemy has now completely disappeared, leaving only a long and narrow crack floating in its place. Endless deep green light burst out from it half a second later, completely submerging everything in the fifth hangar.

In the light, Sanguinius turned to look at his brother, only to find that Guilliman was actually smiling.

——He couldn’t help laughing.

You shameless old liar, Robouti Guilliman couldn't help thinking with joy and admiration.

You have tried every means to ensure that the direction of this war will develop in accordance with your wishes, maintain etiquette, and uphold honor, but you still cannot escape the nature of war. But I guess you probably don't want to escape.

Come on, let us win by any means necessary within the rules and principles.

He narrowed his eyes and drew his sword with his right hand. Amid the whistling sound of steel, the light completely submerged everything.

By the time it went out, the original fifth hangar had been expanded into an unimaginable huge battlefield. Faint light came down from the top of the dark sky, and the ground was rough and uneven, covered with dark red marks, like blood, but it couldn't be blood.

Guilliman watched all this calmly. After a brief observation, he turned around and saw, not surprisingly, a huge door twenty meters high standing behind them.

He pushed aside the Ever-Victorious Army that had gathered around him and walked towards the door with Sanguinius, and saw a relatively small metal box next to it.

Guilliman stabbed it accurately with his sword, and with a flick of his wrist, he picked up one of the curled letters, held it in his hand, read it briefly, and then handed it to Sanguinius.

"It seems that he wants to fight here." Guilliman said with that strange smile. "What do you think, brother?"

After reading the letter, Sanguinius looked up, handed it to the Holy Blood Guards who were watching eagerly, and walked to the huge door without saying a word.

A few seconds later, he raised his hand and pressed the two runes on the metal frame of the door, and the door immediately lit up. A dull humming sound suddenly rang out, like the roar of a monster, enough to make people tremble.
He turned, stared into the blazing white eyes of Roboute Guilliman, and slowly shook his head.

"You should at least say something, right?" Guilliman asked with a hint of confusion.

"I don't want to say anything—it's a little beside the point, Robert."

The angel replied calmly, then flapped its wings and flew to the top of the sky like a ray of white light to do reconnaissance.

Guilliman watched him go away, knowing that the angel was probably a little unhappy at the moment but he had no way to solve the problem.

Unless victory.

Only victory.

He looked around, raised his sword, and gave an order in a deep voice.

"Set up camp on the spot and divide the positions in advance to welcome the incoming troops. Many people will walk out of this door. The war is about to begin, everyone."

The blue and red ocean chose to respond to him with a roar.
-
"You mention a name that shouldn't come out of your mouth," said Luft Huron.

He bent down and approached Orikan, who was slowly sinking into the mud due to his own weight. The lightning claw on his right hand lit up for the first time, truly representing the light of danger.

The light illuminated his face, making him look far more ruthless than a simple body of flesh and blood. Even the golden lion heads on his shoulders seemed to come alive, roaring silently. He stretched out his claws, letting the sharpness of his lightning claws approach the body of the Dead Observer, and then spoke in a pure commanding tone.

"Why do you know him?"

"Keep that thing away from me!" Orikan yelled.

"Speak, or die," said Huron.

The lightning claw continued to approach - just before it was about to touch the energy reactor inside Orikan's chest, three mechanical tentacles attacked from the side, tightly binding Huron's right forearm and stopping him.

Star Claw calmly turned his head and looked at the Mechanical Sage, who immediately spoke.

"I'm sorry I can't understand, but, Adjutant Huron, does this name mean anything? Why did you suddenly lose your composure?"

"This has nothing to do with you, sage, and it is best for you not to know these things. At least, I am not qualified to reveal these things to you without permission."

Huron stood up and gently exerted force to break free from the mechanical tentacles. He did not say anything else, and Kaplan knew that this conversation was temporarily over, both in public and in private.

The sage looked up at the dark night sky. The machinery that was far superior to flesh and blood allowed him to clearly see the slowly spreading crack.

Among all the people present, he was the only one who could capture it so clearly, observe and analyze it. But others didn't actually need to see it to know it appeared.

sound.

An indescribable, strange sound, like crumpling paper. It came down subtly from the top of the sky. At first, only the Astartes could hear it, but in just a few seconds, everyone in the camp could hear it - however, there were no uneasy glances or uneasy gazes seeking advice, only fast and silent actions. Within four minutes, people loaded everything they needed onto the few dozen vehicles, whether it was supplies or equipment.

The Sage returned to his makeshift workshop and gave new orders to the three transport servitors in order to activate their slow brains, which had developed strange errors in the long stagnant time, picked up several large boxes, and followed him to a Mechanicus transport vehicle.

The Star Claws held their weapons tightly, spread out, and waited intently.
The camp fell apart, and everyone was ready to fight or move, except for Orikan, who was still stuck in the mud and slowly moving down.

He looked up at the sky, his emotions so chaotic that he couldn't even analyze or understand them, but this was not the top priority now - the ever-expanding crack in the sky was what he was most concerned about.

Orikan didn't want to be a Necron, but he had no choice. After being dragged into the Bioforge and forced to possess such an immortal body, the length of time became the first and only thing that needed to be solved.
In addition to improving his skills, he also conducted experiments in many other areas, and dimensional fusion was naturally one of them.

Perhaps Trazyn thought he was the only Necron in the world who would place so many pocket dimensions on the same world, but Orikan would tell him, no, you are not, you are not even the first.

Although this title of "first" involves prophecy and multiple reversals of time, which is somewhat suspicious of cheating, first is first, and being a pioneer means seeing scenery that no one else has ever seen.
Therefore, at this moment, Orikan was able to come to a conclusion with complete confidence.

He opened his throat—or rather, amplified the probability of his voice box—and shouted.

"Those who don't want to die better start moving!" he yelled. "There are many ways for pocket dimensions to merge, and the one that appears before your eyes is the most dangerous. This means that this ocean and the place you are in are about to collide head-on with the world in the rift, and only debris will be left behind!"

A heavy footstep ran towards him, a hand dragged him out of the mud and sand, and Luft Huron's gloomy face appeared before Orikan.

But this time, he said nothing, just picked him up roughly, as if he was carrying an object or a shield, and started moving with Orikan.

They boarded an armored vehicle filled with boxes. In addition to these things, there were a dozen people with terrified faces. They were wearing simple clothes, some of them didn't even have shoes, their faces were dark, their fingers were rough, and none of them had weapons.
They had no objection to Huron's arrival, but just stared at the Orikan in his hand.

A few seconds later, the car's engine began to roar. Orekan used to look down on this primitive engine and thought that human vehicles were a joke, but now he decided to take back this idea - anyway, I don't even have a leg in the physical sense now.

He thought to himself, trying to find some joy in misery.

Of course, this all came to an end when a human cub tried to touch his face with his hands.

"Stay away from me!" Orikan shouted instinctively.

His behavior was rewarded with a hard punch and a subsequent mouth covering.

The rude adjutant of Star Claw seemed dissatisfied with his rash words, but covering his mouth was too ridiculous because he did not speak with his vocal cords and mouth.

Huron seemed to realize this as well. He stood up silently, walked to the back of the cabin, opened the door there, and entered a narrow, stuffy place filled with the smell of engine oil.

"Listen, if you open your mouth in front of them again, I will throw you out of the car," Luft Huron threatened.

Orikan had no doubt that he would do what he said - somehow, the astrologer felt as if he had entered a new world. Although his vision was still transmitted back by an array constructed with sophisticated technology, he could see more clearly and vividly.

At this moment, he captured all the subtle fluctuations on the human face that was very close to him. Compared with the lifelessness of the undead, the fluctuations of this flesh and blood body actually made Orikan feel vaguely intoxicated.

"Okay." The astrologer replied without any anger. "I agree."

He had the satisfaction of seeing Huron's look of surprise for a moment, but then of gloom again.

"What tricks are you playing?" Amid the roar of the engine, Star Claw growled. "I warn you, if I find you--"

"--You won't find out anything unless I want you to, Luft Huron. But I can use my name to assure you that I am not playing any so-called 'tricks'. I just want to cooperate with you and leave here. I have been declared a traitor by my race, although this is not my wish, but the matter is done and I can't change it."

A muffled sound coming from the front of the car interrupted Orikan's words. He was a little annoyed, but he was more concerned about the nature of the sound. The person who was carrying him had the same idea as him.

Like a gust of wind, Luft Huron rushed out of the cabin - the sky had changed from pitch black to a dull indigo blue, and large expanses of glaciers and snow-capped mountains appeared overhead, upside down, as if separated by a layer of gauze, and the snow covering the mountains did not fall due to gravity.

Orikan sighed visibly.

"What's the matter?" Huron asked in a low voice.

"If I were you, I'd get in the cars and tell everyone to go as fast as they can," Orikan said. "Soon, those mountains will really come crashing down on you."

"I suppose so," said Huron.

He let go and threw Orikan roughly to the ground. The huge lightning claw on his right hand suddenly lit up, and the terrible electric current, driven by pure violence, slashed at the two white beasts that appeared out of nowhere.

They looked almost like primitive apes that had evolved incorrectly, but their savagery had only increased. At least Orikan would never have thought that primitive apes could dodge an Astartes' attack with just their speed and then bite through his calf armor with their teeth.
Dense beams of crimson light came swiftly from behind Huron, striking the two beasts with the fury of their launcher, burning holes in their fur and filling the air with an acrid, burnt smell.

Huron roared and swung his claws again - this time, he learned from the last lesson and attacked with his lightning claws faster and in an unpredictable arc.

The blow accurately turned one of the apes into pieces of bloody flesh, and the remaining one turned and ran away screaming.
Orikan struggled to prop himself up with his head. In the distance of his sight, a large group of white beasts like an avalanche shook the earth and rushed towards the convoy.

"Prepare for battle!" Huron roared.

A dozen Star Claws got out of the vehicles they were in charge of, and with some soldiers in military uniforms, they formed a formation relying on several armored vehicles.

Orikan was not optimistic about this decision. If they didn't leave now, it would be too late. In a few minutes at most, snow would fall from the gap in the sky first, followed by the mountains and other things.
But he also understood that, given the speed at which those beasts moved, there was no way this convoy would escape unscathed, and someone would definitely fall behind and become a victim.

These Astartes will not allow this to happen, Orikan thought. It's really interesting, what kind of education can produce such high-ranking soldiers?
"Prepare!"

Huron roars again
A few seconds later, with the arrival of the apes, the war officially began.

(End of this chapter)