Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 475: Holy Word Civil War
“You are praised,” his brother monk said to him, holding a crucifix in his hand. It was hard to tell who he was praying to. “We are praised, brother Narek. Aurelion has heard the voice of the God-Emperor.”

Narek remained silent, staring at Elias who fell in front of him. His pride and enthusiasm were gone from this fanatical believer, and even the sarcasm and hostility in the usual conflicts disappeared.

Right here, in front of the Wandering Saint Church, where Elias once stood proudly, this Halhabet fell in a pool of blood in an awkward posture, with his broken hand bones twisted behind him, and his body twisted like a salamander. His weak breathing blew the pool of blood under him, and ripples rose and burst like blood-red pus bubbles, and the tiny sound poked Narek's eardrums.

"We can strike back as they once attacked us, Narek," the monk beside him said with a hint of pleasure in his piety, "We can truly expose their stupidity as they called us humiliation. Then there are those who betrayed us, traitors to the Muristan creed."

Narek's heart clenched in shocking worry, and his chest seemed to be sealed by bone plates, making every breath entangled with crackling pain.

"Do you know what you're talking about?" he asked quietly. "What is - like them?"

"Or, more than them." The monk changed his words swiftly, raised his grenade launcher, and pointed the muzzle at Halhabet on the ground.

He tilted his head, and on that scarred face, the once peaceful eyes were filled with hatred. "We were allowed. The mercy we sought was finally recognized by Aurelion and our father, and the Halhabet - in those confused days, they arrogantly trampled on the latest decree of the God-Emperor."

"The Mercy we seek?"

“At our mercy.”

The monk pulled the trigger, and Batusa Narek stared at Elias, swallowing the trembling and blockage in his throat before he heard the gunshot. Elias became broken into pieces, like a pile of black and red residue, bitten and swallowed by invisible teeth in a pool of blood.

His stomach curled up at the diffused mixed smell of blood and fragrant oil. These residues stung him, grinding the idea that was about to come out of his mind, just like the violent sandstorm in Colchis that was enough to grind away a person's flesh and blood, exposing something deep in his heart painfully.

He inhaled, his skin shrinking beneath his robes at the chill.

“Aurellion has indeed received enlightenment,” he said quietly. “Too much killing nourishes the enemy, and only traitors must be excommunicated. Aurelion said that his last enlightenment made him realize that this order was aimed at Prospero.”

“But Aurelion also realized that this was both a warning and a mercy from the God-Emperor—for many of the Halhabait were traitors to the first half of our new doctrine,” the brother replied, his mutilated lips curled up in a grin, then quickly closed. “And so, we will once again be the ones who fulfill the Holy Word, Narek. We have been favored once more. We have been vindicated.”

He paused for a moment, taking a delight in the killing and destruction that he had to hide.

"Okay, Narek." The monk comforted helplessly, "I know you don't want to accept the death of a former companion, even if we are divided into two and disagree with each other. But when Aurelion walked out of the temple, didn't he personally attack Elias? This is also the choice of our Gene Father."

"Really?" Narek said. His question echoed in the corridor, like a drop of water sinking into a deep pool of silence. The sound gradually spread out, and even though it was constantly weakening, Narek still felt that it was spreading to the outside of the Law of Faith, flowing along the metal skeleton, out of the armor plate, and deep into the silence of the outer asteroid belt.

There, the final civil war of the Word Bearers was unfolding: those Halhabait who had killed the most were executed by Aurelion, as were those who expressed resistance or doubt.

It was not until this moment that they all realized that Aurelion seemed to know how many souls, whether deserved or undeserved, were stained on the blood of each of them.

It was only then that they realized that Aurelion no longer seemed to care about any of them as individuals - only the purity of the creed needed to be maintained, and only the overall effectiveness of the army was worthy of attention.

"What puzzles you, Narek?" the monk said, looking at him encouragingly.

For a moment Narek wanted to say nothing, he wanted to bask in the silence and let time pass him by, he wanted to see Daniel again, or go back a year ago and kill him before Erebus set out for Ullanor...Ah, Daniel, some of us, the proud and pious, believe that his faults have brought shame to Muristan.

Then he came to his senses.

"You know what I'm thinking, brother. You just don't want to admit it, just like I refuse to face this thought," Narek said. "That is, for most of the Word Bearers, regardless of Halhabait or Muristan, the inner beliefs that truly support their actions are exactly the same. We are all the same kind of people, immersed in the same pride and self-proclaimed firmness..."

The friar eagerly raised his hands to his sides, one still clutching the bolter, the other holding the cross.

"You shouldn't say that. We have persisted until today and finally saw the real dawn, Narek! Why would you suddenly change now? If we were exactly the same as them, I would have joined them a few days ago-"

"No, brother, no." Narek said, a warm current gently falling down his back, and he realized that the air brought by his breath returned to his lungs. "The dawn you are looking forward to is the same glory. This is why most people in Halhabait and Muristan insist on their creed... Before, they happened to win, and now you happen to win."

Narek smiled, squatted down, reached out and picked up Elias's fragments, his hand was covered with scarlet sticky. His smile widened.

"Just like I must admit, I don't want to pray for the dead man in front of us according to the teachings of Muristan. I hate him, and so do you, but you even have to hide your smile... Yes, just now I even doubted why Daniel invited me to join Muristan, brother, otherwise I shouldn't be here now."

After saying this, he raised his head and stared at the monk beside him. "Let me think about it myself, brother, I will figure it all out. I will become a true Muristan, what do you think of this?"

The monk's eyebrows were still furrowed because of Narek's blatant heresy. As if to prove Narek's arbitrariness and bias, he took the initiative to put down the grenade launcher, and patted Narek's shoulder affectionately with the hand holding the cross: "I'm glad you can figure it out. From now on, we are still brothers of the Word Bearers."

"Of course," Narek said. The thought that had been lingering for a long time gathered into a flickering point of light, and the light points gathered into a bright candle flame.

He watched the monk disappear at the end of his sight and leave towards the end of the dark corridor. There was already a dark place without any light, maybe there were still a few candles on, distant and tiny, which could be extinguished by the next gust of wind at any time. But most places were dark from the beginning, but they rarely noticed it.

Batusa Narek shook his head and listened to the subtle sounds until everything around him was silent. He nodded to Halhabait on the ground, stood up, and quietly left along another road.

Gradually, he began to run, his footsteps echoing in the background of distant noises that sometimes rose and sometimes fell. He passed through the gates, crossed the shuttle, passed countless prayer rooms, hermitages and power rooms, nodded slightly to the slaughterers and the slaughtered on the way, and left as if nothing had happened, so that they could confirm that they had an urgent mission.

He went to the navigation hall once, grabbed a young navigator, and told him that he had a mission that was doomed to fail but must be completed, knowing that the navigator followed him because the grenade launcher was pressed against his chest. He arrived at the hangar and used vague and unclear orders to let unsuspecting mortals pass him, even taking a small group of crew members with him. He scanned their faces, assessing their personalities and reasons for being stranded outside the internal massacre, and took them to a small boat.

He told them he was off on a special mission to Muristan, and left the bashful men behind as the tiller was pulled and the hangar door opened for them to go out into the stars, out of Aurelion's sight.

"But where are we going to escape to, my lord?" one of the crew members asked in deep fear, looking at the vast starry sky in front of him and glancing quickly at the navigator who was blocking his third eye.

"Escape," Narek said, breaking the silence. "A good word. Yes, we are fleeing, as you have judged very accurately. What can you see now, Mireille?"

The navigator shook his head. "The light of the Astronomican is very dim, sir..."

"Can't you see Prospero?"

"That's too difficult, my lord. I can't guarantee that I can complete your mission. The waves in the warp haven't subsided at all. Maybe we still have time to return to the flagship. We all heard that you won in the end. If we go back now, Aurelion won't know we left. Otherwise..."

The vibrations from the torpedo exploding the ship outside the window made the people inside the ship tremble.

"There is no 'or else,'" Narek said. "I must tell those who are about to face disaster what has happened among the Word Bearers. Even if it is the will of the God-Emperor... I believe that the God-Emperor is no longer the same as he once was. You can regard me as full of nonsense, speculating on the Holy Word, and blaspheming. I don't care what you think. I just want you to care about your own lives. Do you understand me, brothers?"

He used the term sarcastically.

"I'll give it a try," the navigator said quickly, having to use his psychic powers to explore the limits of his power. They didn't really need the Astronomican to guide them, but losing that beacon would only increase their physical and mental fatigue until they reached the edge of what their Warp Eyes could see.

"The subspace environment here is really beyond my comprehension. If we go to Prospero, we might - will definitely get lost on the other side of the veil. I can't make such a long jump, sir. No one can do it. It's not a question of whether I am willing or not..."

"So where else can we go, Terra? Mars? The Moon?"

"I don't know, my lord. There are some abnormal whirlpools nearby. I don't quite understand. There seem to be some entrances that have never been mentioned. The subspace currents are going against them. I'm worried that we will fall into them... I don't know what will happen. This kind of spiral whirlpool has never been mentioned in my teachings..."

The navigator's words came to an abrupt end as the battleship's sudden and violent tremor threw him onto the table. Flames suddenly struck the hull of the ship, and the explosive energy brought about countless warnings that suddenly popped up.

"Go!" Narek yelled, "Go, wherever! Someone has to leave!"

-

This is Terra, Ahriman thought, as the vision of the throne world drew nearer to him, yet it was not the reality of the universe that gripped him, but the awful darkness that swirled in his psychic vision.

Every dark scratch is a ravine where a storm of hatred surges. The riddled and penetrating holes are waiting to completely devour the entire world from the inside out. At that time, the fire of death will burn fiercely, and the galaxy will evaporate into non-existent ashes and residue.

No one spoke in the ship, but everyone heard the struggle and shock of each other's thoughts. They looked at each other, shocked by the naked darkness that Terra revealed to them.

"Did you feel it?" asked Francesca.

"Yes..." Barak replied tremblingly, their eyes locked, "Obviously."

Hathor Mat raised his head, blinked hard, and clenched his teeth stubbornly.

"Those vortices..." Ahriman said slowly, feeling the space around him squeeze in, pressing against his veins. He held onto the edge of the table as the darkness tore at his body.

"Father's power is there," he continued, panting softly, the scream he had been trying to stifle coming out in a tiny whimper in his throat. "His runes are in every opening of the Vortex. We all recognize his... embers. The remnants of his work..."

So close, so near, the marks left by Magnus surged around them, and time flowed through their veins like broken ice, stinging.

"Focus on Terra," Fusistaka's teeth chattered.

Those vortices were almost completely blocked by darkness, but they could feel the traces left by Magnus burning continuously on the other side of the darkness. And the deepest part of the darkness was also the only place where the red flames were brightest.

"We have come to the right place," Hathor lowered his head again and glared at his companions. "I have a hunch that it is him - his ashes, behind the throne curtain, Azak. We must go to the other side. And the Emperor..."

When this term came out of his mouth, a huge cold terror froze the teeth of the Bright Feather Temple lecturer. The Thousand Dust Suns surrounded each other and prepared for battle in an instant.

But the only thing that descended here was a radio wave, coming from the Terra control tower.

A flashing signal appeared above the control panel in the cabin.

The Radiance was allowed to enter Terra's orbit.

(End of this chapter)