Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 432 Daven
"Excuse me, sir, but what is Chaos?" asked Kyle Valen.

At this time, the Iron Warriors' fleet was in the warp passage heading for the Davin system. The Interrex turned into a series of slightly reflective dust particles in the air, and the colorful light of the warp was blocked outside the closed window panels of the Iron Blood.

The Astropathic Choir has shared as much information about the Davin System as possible with the Iron Lord who came to deal with the rebellion. Multiple intelligence with the same information has been sent in sequence to fill the gaps in the loss of comparative information. It is expected that after four weeks, they will return to the real universe dotted with various celestial bodies, and Davin Satellite 63-8 will appear before their eyes.

Although the satellite was under the command of Horus Lupercal's 63rd Expeditionary Fleet, the first to come into contact with it were Lorgar Aurelion's Word Bearers. According to their custom, the Daven people who retained their primitive beliefs on the planet were all destroyed, the old temples were all demolished, the holy images were destroyed, and the long-haired Daven people who looked like monkeys were set on fire.

Subsequently, the Empire's colonial ships redefined the social makeup of Daven.

It can be said that this is a pure imperial planet that does not contain unstable factors from foreign members - this also makes their rebellion lack a conventional reason.

Perturabo looked up at his warsmith. Kyle Varen was not well-known, but he had solid command and dispatch skills, and he had accumulated a lot of military achievements, step by step to the side of the Primarch. For personal reasons, the warsmith did not use mechanical or biotechnology to replace his missing left eye, and Perturabo would not ask about it.

"You remember the problem of the Interrex," Perturabo said calmly. "Does it concern you?"

Kyle Valen hesitated for two seconds: "Yes, sir. I'm not sure if we have the authority to know all this."

"Tell me what you think," Perturabo said. "You have been thinking about this for a few days. I am glad that you have not let it affect your work. I am also glad that you have the courage to speak frankly with me."

"Oh..." Kell was surprised, and immediately regretted thinking that the Primarch would not notice his hesitation.

"At first I thought that the 'chaos' you mentioned was a synonym for witchcraft or psychic power. They have similar roots in the words, but then I found that I couldn't explain why you asked us to leave before discussing it if chaos was just witchcraft. After all, we have close contacts with the 'wizards' of the Thousand Dust Sun."

"Why do you think that is?" Perturabo asked.

"Because the Imperial Truth does not recognize wizards?" Kyle was unsure. "In diplomacy, should I be consistent with the Empire's position?"

His speculation made Perturabo's brows relax slightly. "No, Valen, we don't have to be so political about Interrex. Your conjecture about 'chaos' is correct, but also incomplete. In the name of the Emperor, this is all I can tell you. I believe that with your intelligence, your exploration should have reached the end."

The truth cannot be known, and the Warsmith understood the answer almost instantly. Even if the Lord of Iron was willing to tell the secret of the Webway, then there are more things that cannot be said, and the key may only lie in the thing itself.

"But..." He still had a question, "If we don't know what we are facing, how can we prevent its threat?"

"It's simple. Listen to Magnus and get witchcraft out of our world. If you are in doubt, call on those who know the truth - like me, like Magnus."

Perturabo replied, returning to his work. In a sense, he enjoyed the process of letting different information swirl and interweave in his brain, which was equivalent to building a metaphysical building.

He noticed a strange message in the astropathic communication: an abnormal black corona was radiating around the 63-8 satellite. This phenomenon was similar to the scene described in the Nightmare Sun Intelligence Book given to him by Conrad Curz - the areas affected by this anomaly seemed to be often accompanied by madness and destruction.

This confirms a vague, unstatistically verified rumor that the vision of the Holy Grail Expansion is quietly emerging in the shadows within the Empire.

Considering that these trivial reports were mixed in with the millions of intelligence reports sent to Terra every day, Morse said that Malcador decided to wait until the threat of the anomaly was greater than the chain famine caused by regional agricultural production reduction before dealing with such hearsay rumors.

"Thanks, Dad," Kyle said sincerely.

"Tell your colleagues about this as well," Perturabo said, frowning slightly. "If there is anything beyond common sense, report it to me immediately and I will make the decision myself."

-

Lightning flashed across the sky above the satellite, and drizzle fell like a ghost, isolating the broken divisions of World 63-8 from each other, as if they were sealed in a stasis sphere of eternal circulation.

When the Iron Warriors arrived here, the satellite had been reduced to several loose gray-brown rock islands floating in the universe, barely connected by gravity, due to unknown turmoil.

Each torn continent was barren and gray, with different shapes and was slowly moving. From orbit, the broken soil and rocks looked like broken chains covered with black rust, surrounding the outside of the planet.

It is hard to imagine that such a planet on the verge of destruction is capable of launching a rebellion against the Empire.

And, unfortunately, after evaluation by the Mechanicus, the planet can still be rebuilt into a habitable world.

After his request for negotiation was denied, Perturabo signed an order certifying the treason and dispatched a fleet of Iron Warriors ships to relieve the planet's orbital defenses.

The whole process was easier than he had imagined. This did not mean that the other side had no resistance. On the contrary, the ships that were once loyal to the Empire launched an almost crazy counterattack as soon as they saw the Iron Warriors. One ship after another emptied all their ammunition reserves almost at the first moment of the battle, and then, with a kind of self-destructive intention, they rushed towards the Iron Warriors' warships that had been reinforced with Perturabo's additional armor.

Naturally, this greatly accelerated the destruction of World 63-8's already weak defense fleet.

"Go investigate," Perturabo ordered, assigning the task to three warsmiths.

After a meeting, these senior commanders assigned different torn continental blocks to reconnaissance and combat companies according to the longitude of the planet, and each of them brought Perturabo's Iron Ring Mecha to provide Perturabo with a more professional observation perspective and the most timely means of communication.

"What the hell is this place?" Belossos, the warsmith of the 21st Battalion, whispered to himself, looking up through his goggles at the dirty and turbid sky.

The clouds were like gray-black spider webs, dividing the gloomy sky into patches of dark mist, and the rain dripped like pus, with an unreasonable viscosity and dullness. He felt that his armor became like some kind of turbid fluid as the army marched, even though all the data indicators were emphasizing that all this was just a false illusion.

The Iron Ring was beside him, tall and steady, accompanying him unwaveringly, advancing and retreating with him. He knew that Perturabo was watching his every move, and what he could gain from it was more of a sense of comfort than honor.

The governor who once took over this area was appointed by the Word Bearers, and Berosus sometimes wondered what kind of rage Lorgar Aurelion would vent on the world when he discovered that there was a traitor among his men.

But they have not yet seen the traitor.

As the team moved forward, some ruins of Daven's past life gradually appeared under their feet, with broken ancient sculptures and collapsed stone buildings everywhere. They passed an open space and saw a large circle made of stones and a black scorch mark in the center of the circle that gradually faded away due to years of rain.

This is the evidence that the Word Bearers once destroyed everything, and it is the remnant that no one has dared to collect for sixty years.

Everyone knew that after the slaughter was over, the Word Bearers would always set fire to anything that could still burn, standing at the edge of the fire sacrifice, watching the rising black smoke, smiling and praying devoutly to the Emperor, wishing that the Emperor would grant the world a new life. Berossus was very sure that the remains of the building they were passing at this moment had once belonged to a temple, some kind of serpent-themed association.

Countless granites were once carved with fine scales and cruel snake eyes. The incomplete arches were located between the cliffs, and the bronze doors were engraved with reliefs of coiled snakes, showing Davin's local beliefs.

Now, it all lay in charred ruins and broken stone roots, half submerged in a bubbling tawny mire, after the Word Bearers' ruthless destruction sixty years ago.

Lush mosses and weeds clung to the surfaces and gaps between the stones, while flies and their disgusting larvae flew in swarms over the surface and edges of the mire.

The helmets began filtering the toxic air as soon as they took a reading, but a stench still lingered, as if invading directly from the edge of their sensory system, testing their souls with its noxious breath.

And above all these elements, a dark and gloomy aura appeared competitively, covering their senses like a veil. It seemed to have appeared quietly after they had seen the fire sacrifice site of the Word Bearers.

It was purer, more... vicious. A cold hatred that came out of nowhere prompted Berosus to tighten his grip on his weapon. In his throbbing heart, a dark desire to destroy everything in sight was rapidly rising, urging him to tear apart, burn, and knock down anything.

Through his helmet, he seemed to see his companion's eyes flashing with a ferocious cold light, as if a dark ecstasy dwelt in the adjutant's soul, and he had high expectations for any sign of destruction, even if the destruction would be his own.

The hormone detection signal in the helmet quickly warned him, and Belossos bit his tongue hard, swallowed his saliva, and barely suppressed the overflowing hatred. As he gradually calmed down, another emotion grew and ebbed, and fear suddenly stuck to his skin, bringing a deadly cold.

He waited for the power armor to inject him with a sedative to regulate his nerves, and faithfully told the Lord of Iron about his situation orally.

If he encountered something beyond his ability, he would not use his stupidity or pride to create unnecessary sacrifices - besides, Kyle Valen had just talked to them about this before coming here.

His boots stepped over some crunchy material, and Berossus looked down and noticed that it was a festering human skeleton. It was the first human-related thing they encountered on this broken continent. What a joyful destruction and end... No, stop.

"No more than four weeks have passed since he died," a soldier leaned over to conduct a simple test. "Traces of psychic energy, corrosive spells... He died from the surrounding psychic environment."

His adjutant recorded their findings in a concise and clear sentence into the communication channel and shared them with other warriors. Berossus noticed that the adjutant's voice became quite hoarse, and the other party was also affected by the strong and evil desire.

Steel inside and out, he muttered to himself, recalling the teachings of his genetic father and regaining his proper calm.

In the internal channel for military officers, Belossos read more counterintuitive phenomena.

This small planet seemed to be undergoing substantial changes in various regions along with the material split.

Some broken continents are filled with strange fragrances, and everything shows the worship of reproduction, even the stone corridors and pillars are matched with each other in pairs; in some places, blood flows like a river, the rust of copper and iron fills the mountains and plains, and distant roars echo beyond reality; the least of them is a kind of maze-like crystallized area, where the Iron Warriors use heavy artillery to smash every crystal wall that blocks the way, and move forward coldly into the depths...

It is worth noting that they have never encountered any living creatures that could pose a threat, not to mention rebels, not even living people.

"Similar to some kind of pattern," another group of warriors shared their observations, "there is a pattern in the shapes of these psychic signs."

Berossus also discovered this feature. Many things were vaguely constructing the same set of similar shapes. The yellow crescent moon above Daven was an arc, and three twisted and entangled reflections extended in the mud on the ground. The multiple eaves of the temple formed a set of strange nested structures from a certain angle, and...

The Iron Ring Robot raised its mechanical arm and picked up a bunch of interlocking sawtooth chains from the top of the black tree branch that looked like a dead silhouette. The bright green light in the robot's eyes flickered slightly as it scanned the shape of the chain. It was not a man-made chain, but a loop formed by the branches automatically linked together under the influence of the surrounding psychic environment. From the shape, it was similar to a snake with its tail in its mouth.

Information continued to be exchanged and transmitted rapidly. No discovery was an isolated case. From countless corners of the Daven satellite, more products of psychic influence were discovered one by one. The more disgusting the surrounding environment was, the more irresistible the stench of the warp and the dark surging malice were, and the more common these tangible tiny signs were; they either coexisted or opposed each other.

There are still no living people, just like this place has long been a desert burned by war.

Berossus ordered his warriors to hold back. His experience gave him a bad feeling. "Be careful," he said. "Stop moving forward and wait for further instructions."

But the world seemed to begin to change completely. From a certain insignificant moment, the plates beneath their feet seemed to begin to move slowly as a whole. The gravitational environment was violently shaking. Trees fell, rocks collapsed, and they slid in a predetermined direction until they fell into the center that seemed to have an end.

At the same time, the cruel and crazy thoughts suddenly intensified countless times, turning into a scream that pierced through the soul, and the dark waves roared silently with eternal pain and torture. Countless scenes were invading his mind: ships exploded and crashed in the air, thousands of stone towers collapsed, travelers fell to the ground on the dry gray stone beach, and the bodies of the dead fell into the deep pool along the Styx-like waterfall...

However, no real sound rang in Berossus's ears, and the colors faded and dissipated bit by bit. The turbid brown-yellow quagmire, the war roars echoing in the distance, and the pungent sensual veils were all swallowed up by the darkness and turned into a sharp, inky black fog that tore at his skin, like an eagle's claws scraping at his bones...

"That's enough," this strong feeling just emerged, but within ten seconds, a mechanically synthesized imitation human voice came out from the iron ring's mouth, delivering the order of the Iron Lord who was far away on the Iron Won.

The synthesized sound of the iron ring was emotionless, but Belossos only felt that the voice of the Father of Genes was in his ears - so urgent, so solemn.

"Everyone stop exploration and prepare to return to orbit. The suppression of 63-8 is on hold," Perturabo said quickly. "This is no longer something we should be dealing with. Wait-"

Belossus did not hear the second half of the Iron Lord's words. Around him, the world was so silent that the filthy yellow light and the flashes on the hulls of the Iron Ring mechas suddenly dimmed and fell into a distant, infinite darkness.

The darkness was spreading, covering the area around him. No, it was far more than that. It was so huge and infinite that it climbed over the broken snake pillars, swallowed the withered dead wood, gently spread over the continent, and then burned towards Davin's broken sky...

From top to bottom, from outside to inside, the darkness penetrates to infinite dimensions until measurement becomes nothingness, as if inside is outside, as if below is above, death and silence reappear from the darkness, slowly burning within a range that transcends all human words, beyond the limits of measurement, beyond the finite number, where words no longer have meaning... Everything ends in death and silence, thus transcending time.

He seemed to see everything, yet seemed to know nothing.

He raised his head.

The nightmarish dark sun was there.

It hangs at the other end of the void, as if it has just appeared, yet as if it has never left.

The end of the stellar wind turned into a dark needle that absorbed the light and pierced him like a moth.

(End of this chapter)