Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 486: Changes Continue
The bloody wind carried the lingering oil mist in the air, and dark, messy, abandoned defense circles stretched out in the color of rusted iron. Buildings not far away were still burning, and suffocating black smoke rose into the sky. The sniper on the roof overlooked the square street below.

Ctesias tried to say something to Ahriman, something about the Great Tizca, about all that had not yet been destroyed, but he found that he had no words to speak, no cold, sharp things that he could see but Ahriman could not.

It was Azak who stood at the crossroads and witnessed the torrent of souls being taken away by the Avatar of the Emperor, and he perhaps knew more about the atrocities that took place in this hell than the surviving Tizcans themselves. Those moments of near death were witnessed by the Templars one by one.

This hastened their steps, allowing their landing craft to boldly land on the transfer platform in the city that had been half destroyed by artillery fire, in the hope of ending the war as soon as possible? Expelling the Moon Wolves? Or finding a way to get the dark sun that symbolized the gaze of the Tyrant Star to leave the sky above Grand Tizca?

They had much to do and quickly, and time was like the sharp teeth of a hound, chasing after them at the heels of their heavy chains, tearing blood from their bodies.

Ctesias shook his head, his ears already detecting a familiar sound, the humming sound of the Space Marine's power armor in operation.

Ctesias gathered the power to summon the psychic storm between his fingers, paying attention to Ahriman's movements to decide his next move. This place had become extremely unsuitable for using psychic energy, and their every move seemed to be directly watched by some higher terrifying existence. He could only cautiously stir up a limited wave.

Under Azak's blank mask, he felt the etheric energy fluctuating, but it did not turn to anger. This meant that the visitors were not the Moon Wolves, but their companions.

However, he also felt something else subtle and delicate, which turned deeply into an undercurrent in the deep sea of ​​emotions.

The melancholy soul of the Chief Librarian who had erected a solid defense was shaken by the identity of the visitor. This seemed unlikely to happen to a man like Ahriman, or should not belong to the Ahriman in most people's minds.

"Wait," Ahriman said loudly, raising a hand to stop the Thousand Dust Suns behind him, and facing the metal color that appeared from behind a building. His mask was facing forward, hiding his expression.

"Azak Ahriman," the voice sounded strange to Ctesias, but some of the men in the party seemed to recognize him, and a small ripple ran through them, like the small waves that rise as ripples pass through the Tizca Harbor on the Valperin Sea.

Ahriman did not move forward. "Frix," he said coldly, "you have been gone for many years. I do not understand why you have returned now."

"You may think I'm dead, no, we each have our own mission. Now we happen to return here to help you protect Prospero." Fricks said dully, his voice as flat as metal, a typical voice of an Iron Warrior.

There were about a dozen Iron Warriors with him, as well as some members of the Spire Guard. These Iron Warriors, whose armor was slightly outdated, were indeed standing in the same line with Big Tizca.

Ahriman paused, and fell silent. Ctesias couldn't help but imagine what Azak was thinking. A reunion after a long separation?
"You come to greet me?" said Azak Ahriman.

"Yes," Fricks admitted, his next words lighter, "It's good to see you again. I'm a warsmith now, what about you?"

Ahriman seemed to nod, and Ctesias guessed that this unexpected reunion had left Ahriman with mixed feelings. His hands were clenched into fists, and they were trembling faintly.

The Chief Librarian replied: "I thank the Iron Warriors for their selflessness, but now is not the time for us to reminisce, Kedomo. Is the current command tower in the Pyramid of Frotep or the Great Library? Where is Amon?"

"Amon is in the Silver Fortress on the south side, and we are commanding in the Great Library. If you are ready to go to the Great Library, you can ride back with me in a transport vehicle."

Two expressionless helmets faced each other, smoke and dust rolled in the background around them.

"Take me to... the Great Library. Besides, I am now the Chief Librarian, Kedomo." Ahriman said softly, and Ctesias heard a hint of bitterness.

Fricks nodded his helmet and strode forward, approaching Ahriman.

-

If the edge of the turbulent waves is regarded as a tangible wave line, then the web of fate is woven together by countless vast turbulences.

The changeling watched the Great Tizca in the flames of war and released its invisible, anthropomorphic hand. A thread connected to the mortal woman Callista Ores was pulled away, and a knot extending from it was burned. A broken fate was wiped out by the instinctive resistance of mankind.

Foolish humans are naturally fragile, but with their tenacious perseverance and rich emotions, they have become the favorite planning tools of the Lord of Change - and the Changeling knows that a qualified plan can never consider only a single possibility.

There was still a silk thread left in its palm, connected to an even more complicated knot, the results of which were not even all in favor of the power of destruction.

Its behavior at this time should be called hesitation among humans: should it do this? For greater changes and entertainment, should it pull this thread?

Oh, of course. Its patience with order has been exhausted in waiting. It pulls on one end of the silk thread and weaves a cradle-like flower rope net between its eighteen fingers. In the net is a person's face, a face of a person with great power and importance... It is one of the relay points favored by fate, difficult to reach directly, it needs some springboards.

The cradle rope slid away from the stone-like face, suddenly framing another unnoticed Space Marine, and then teleported to the next one, and the next one... A sufficiently weak entry point, a mind full of delusional thoughts will be the best invisible door between reality and unreality -

A seriously wounded brave warrior stumbled as he ran towards Prospero's control tower: a messenger took advantage of a brief ceasefire on the western front of the Great Tizca to personally report the situation of the bombed northern elevator platform back to the Tizca Library, which is now the command tower.

He was dazed and dragged to the brink of collapse by days of fatigue. So when he blinked the next time, the creature who woke up had another ruthless and happy look in his eyes.

The spirit ran happily through the streets full of deep pits. The buildings collapsed in front of it. It crawled over like a weak human, waiting for the inspection of the monitoring equipment floating in the air. It bowed respectfully outside the library and hurriedly told the officer on duty that it had something important to report.

The officer stared at it, inviting it to take a breath, and ordered it to tell him what it had seen and heard, and let the officer convey it. The Iron Warriors had set these strict wartime regulations, and a soldier had no right to enter the command tower. Alas, it had used Kalista too casually last time.

It coughed and sputtered out the message the soldier wanted to convey in a disjointed manner. The officer faithfully recorded every word it spoke.

Its voice became smaller and smaller, and when it finally finished speaking, it gently pulled its entity out of this body. The next moment, the officer reached out in surprise and sadness to catch the soldier's dying body.

The spirit of change sensed the officer's momentary pain and gently entered the officer's brain through the crack in his heart. After a brief period of stickiness, time resumed its flow.

The changeling held the soldier's body and solemnly called the other on duty, warning them with suppressed grief and anger that they must properly bury a hero. Then he turned around hurriedly, and his military boots made a fast-paced clicking sound on the tiles of the Great Library with flowing light.

It passed through the authentication points set up by the Iron Warriors with a frown on its face. Yes, yes, this is the message from a soldier. He is dead. I must quickly inform the Space Marines of this. The commander must want to know that the soldier has died. That's right...

It climbed up the stairs to the top of the pyramid, where it felt the traces left by the Lord of Change more than a hundred years ago. What a pity that Magnus had already wiped out all the remaining marks, otherwise it would not need to transfer through so many levels - no, if there was still a crack left from the power of the Great Changer, the entire City of Light would have fallen into the crystal maze long ago.

A Thousand Dust Sun stood outside the door, it straightened its back, and asked sadly and stubbornly which generals were now inside, it had a message from the dead.

There was no expression on the blank mask of Thousand Dust Sun, but the spirit of change could taste the touch deep in the other party's heart. It added a little shadow to that touch. Thousand Dust Sun spoke in a low and dry voice: "Commander Frix is ​​here. I will inform you."

The changeling nodded anxiously, and another dangerous pressure began to descend on it. It was the real evil god who was watching Prospero, the dark projection brought by the throne tyrant bred by humans.

Its senses heightened, and it carefully separated part of itself from the officer's body, watching the edge of the Black Sun entwining and biting like a fiery snake, and a sudden surge of extreme fear surged in its heart. This was a true shudder it had never experienced before, enough to completely destroy and incinerate its existence... and the battle within the Chaos Gods never stops, and both sides of reality are the chessboards of the gods.

Then, the intervention of an external force is definitely enough to anger the Dark Throne, which regards humans as its own prey.

The changeling fell back into the officer's body, adjusting its uncontrolled, unfamiliar fear.

It knew that it would soon be driven out of the mortal world by the wrath of the fifth unborn mighty one. It didn't have much time left, and it couldn't think of how it should take the final step. Even though it came from the other side of the ocean that controlled change, the deep sea of ​​illusions, this mortal world had been set by a future true god - fear, its fear must be controlled, no, its fear must be used.

"Tell me the information you brought," Fricks's flat and calm voice came from the door, and the screen of the data tablet in the hands of Thousand Dust Sun lit up. The changeling had no chance to come into direct contact with the other party, even if it theoretically carried the last breath of a heroic dead. His strictness protected him, but it was not eternal.

Nothing is permanent, especially human beings, who are sensitive and passionate.

The Changeling announced its existence to Black Sun, instigating the Dark Throne to take action.

The wrath of the cold Great Destroyer quickly found it, and at the moment it controlled the officer to speak, a segment of the wrath of the Black Sun surged out from the terrifying light. The Changeling apologized cheerfully to its master, and more power of the Warp was mobilized from the rolling waves of fate to fight against the Black Sun.

Within a heartbeat, the forces of Tzeentch and the Dark Lord clashed fiercely in the reflection of the Sea of ​​Dreams at the top of the Great Pyramid. The Changeling heard nine thousand shadows of Tzeentch beginning to curse and extinguish the black flames in the Crystal Library, and nine hundred mouths were cursing the Changeling's rash actions.

It appears that it started a wildfire right into its owner's home, but that was all part of the plan.

The waves of conflict continued to spread, and the officer's body was rolled into a pile of burning powder. The Dark Lord's limited but terrifying gaze was focused on this. Qianchen Yang, who was next to the officer, knelt on the ground in uncontrollable fear. The changeling knew that Qianchen Yang would not have any doubts, because all the traces left in the present world belonged to the Dark Lord's unrestrained rage.

On the other side of the wall, Fricks also covered his chest, struggling to escape from the shadow of darkness, angrily and silently cursing the madness and cruelty that erupted from the Dark Throne. His mental defenses were finally broken.

Of course, only gods created by humans themselves can destroy humans.

The Changeling blinked its thousand eyes, releasing the Chaos Tide it had mobilized at full force, and the power of the Dark Lord receded.

It took advantage of the retreating tide, and its entity broke through the tight defense of the top of the Great Pyramid of Tizca. Its invisible eyes met the cold and hollow eyes of the Warsmith. A flame pierced through the forehead of the Warsmith's tough soul, and along the crack left by the Dark Lord, it burned the etheric aura of the Warsmith's struggle with fear into a wisp of iron-ash smoke.
Fricks' body stiffened and fell into a trembling stillness. His hand moved to the console, then moved away with difficulty, and was held tightly by another hand. He knelt beside the table, convulsing violently, trying to control his behavior. He raised his upper body and slid his fingers tremblingly over the edge of the table. His nails were intended to make some marks, but only left messy scratches.

The screen showed a series of small pearly white ships in orbit sparking and rapidly destroyed, overwhelmed by a newly arrived force. A message popped up almost cheerfully: the flagship of the Fifteenth Legion, the Queen of Glory-class Radiance, had returned to the vicinity of Prospero.

Then, that spark of psychic energy was undoubtedly the work of Azak Ahriman.

At the same time, the Luna Wolves on the ground received the same information. Their temporarily slowed attack momentum suddenly started up again, and the bombing area on the west side of the Great Tizca, which had just subsided, was once again filled with dust. Amon, the Primarch's attendant at the front line of the fortress, had already begun to order a new round of counterattacks, and ammunition and fire filled the air again.

Slowly, Fricks stood up, fell down again, and stood up again. After several twists and turns, a series of buttons began to be pressed with great reluctance by the warsmith.

The locking sequence of the Tizca Library's defense cannons began to be released one by one. Fricks tried his best to resist the other will that occupied his mind. The obstacle he brought to the changeling was greater than it had expected, but it was ultimately within the limitations of mortal ability.

The Changeling pushed Kedomo Fricks aside, leaving him entangled with the remnants of the Dark Lord's power in the corner of its body. Oh, it had made the right choice. Even if the fifth power had not yet truly arrived, it would not be difficult to capture a poor soul of the corresponding race.

Disputes, conflicts, it loves to induce all of this, and the changes that follow. Half of the eyes of the changeling looked into the upstream of time, and saw that before coming here, Azak Ahriman had stepped into a - a what? A place that even the Lord of Change could not see inside, a crossroads of surging power, a cold and shining beacon.

It's really strange, a variable beyond the plan, an unknown hidden danger, the changeling believes that the master he serves will definitely like it.

Regardless, when Ahriman stepped out again, he stepped into the vast ocean of fate and returned to the visible range.

The muzzle of the Grand Tizca's gun gradually aimed at a target that the Spirit of Change found interesting.

What would the warriors of the Thousand Dust Sun think if Prospero greeted her child with artillery fire?
The changeling's plan was proceeding step by step, thoughts were winding like snakes, and the lines outlined by the waves of fate were becoming clearer and clearer. A series of foreseeable futures were recorded in the crystal book that was still burning with the flames of the Dark Lord as part of the plan.

Let's see, the Changeling said to Fricks, how they will react when they find out that this attack comes from within.

Fricks' will struggled again, and the spirit forced Fricks to reach out and press the last start button. Fricks' fingers trembled and almost touched the surface of the button, but at that moment, he burst out with the last resistance and pulled his hand back.

The changeling relaxed his grip slightly, pretending to give in, and Fricks collapsed in front of the console, panting.

The Changeling was satisfied to give Fricks some time to rest and hope, leaving him a little breathing space, hoping that he would make some unusual resistance, such as kicking away the influence of the Dark Lord, or taking the opportunity to do something else.

It waited for a while, and then organized the artillery's second firing with great anticipation. What kind of counterattack would it get this time?
Fricks' body had already reached out to the last control button of the defense gun, ready to start the full gun firing. Just at the last letter of the last instruction, its hand suddenly shook violently, and an erroneous variable that did not meet the regulations disrupted the entire sequence.

The target of the second sequence was instantly deflected, and nothing was hit except the universe itself, and nothing happened in the world except the sparks created in the atmosphere above Grand Tizca.

At the same time, due to an incorrect command, the control authority on this side was automatically locked.

Oh, this is trouble. The changeling glared at the annoying soul of Fricks in frustration, and took advantage of the opponent's weakness after the counterattack to completely seize control of the body.

Fricks' body began to twitch violently, and his eyes gradually blurred. At least it succeeded in snatching this guy's body, changing its mind, feeling slightly annoyed, knowing that its fate had changed again.

According to the preset regulations, the control of the turret has been automatically transferred to Amon, another supreme commander on the battlefield. However, if they want to seize the body of a psychic master who is truly proficient in warp magic under the watchful eyes of the Dark Lord, it will not be as easy as it is for the Iron Warriors.

Fricks slowly stood up, and the changeling put on a helmet for him to hide his strange expression. Space Marines have an extraordinary sensitivity to the identities of their companions. The seeds of the warp flow in their bodies and blood, which constitutes a rich connection with countless possibilities.

But it's not over yet, warriors. The Changeling thought happily, turning and walking towards the other end of the Great Tizca. At the same time, it began to imitate the boring and stubborn tone of the Iron Warriors, issuing a series of orders to welcome the return of the Radiance.

-

Phryx came very close to Ahriman, and Ahriman allowed him to approach, waiting without saying a word. To be honest, this made Ctesias feel a little strange.

Ahriman's certain pride often creates an invisible arc between him and his cousins ​​in other Legions, even the Iron Warriors, with whom his gene-fathers have a very good relationship. In fact, his interactions with the Iron Warriors are so restrained that it's hard to imagine him ever calling a soldier of the Fourth Legion his friend.

"Let's go," said Fricks.

Ahriman's mask was tilted at an angle, with a look of final thought.

"You're pushing me," he whispered. "You know I still remember Kedomo Frix."

After a few seconds, Fricks responded, "I don't understand."

Ahriman smiled.

"I can hear his voice, servant of the ocean, his voice still flows in every beat of his heart, his sharp thoughts still warn me. I cannot ignore your blasphemous existence, and you are happy to show it before me. And you seem to think that I dare not act in front of the Iron Warrior, that I think I have concerns. Do you get entertainment from this contrast?"

A surge of heat suddenly rose up, and Ahriman's reflection of his existence in the other world condensed into a ball of boiling fire, forcibly breaking through the layers of black fog under the gaze of the dark sun, and the sharp edge of the flame decisively cut through the outer edge of the existence in front of him.

"Or do you think we will be easily provoked into fighting?" Ahriman laughed. "You are not blind, so you think I won't have the heart to do it?"

Fricks' body screamed in agony, and Ahriman's laughter spread horribly along waves of invisible fire.

"I am glad to see you again, Kedomo," Ahriman said, his laughter was devoid of joy, as cold as a piece of steel sunk to the bottom of the sea. He grasped the strong shoulders of Frickus with both hands, and there were black fire marks under his gauntlets.

He continued to murmur: "I'm sorry too. After so many years, and with so many rumors... I actually never believed that you really left."

"Ahriman!" Someone in the team shouted, more than one person.

Even the Iron Warriors, whose perception of the Warp was not acute, felt the surge of fire - and, of course, they could hear the commander's screams.

A gun was raised, followed by more guns and cannons. Half of the guns belonged to the Iron Warriors, and half belonged to the Thousand Dust Sun.

High in the sky, the gaze of the Dark Sun was approaching, and the psychic power used by Ahriman attracted the attention of the Dark Throne.

Ctesias felt his sanity was falling apart in the terrifying darkness. He could sense the sound of gunfire and fire around him. It seemed that the two sides had already started fighting, but it also seemed that the blood and lightning were just illusions under fear and destruction. No, someone could really start fighting at any time. Not everyone is good at cultivating mental resistance.

Ctesias realized this, and at the same time, the invisible darkness that was burning in his chest was coughed out by him gritting his teeth, and it sprayed onto the ground mixed with blood.

In his unconscious perception, he looked up at Ahriman's towering red figure. Azak Ahriman stood behind the prism of twisted flames, his figure slightly twisted. The Chief Librarian's smooth visor was burning with deadly flames, part of which belonged to the damage brought to him by the darkness, and part of which belonged to himself.

"Ahriman!" Ctesias shouted.

Ahriman did not move, the force he had mobilized still confronting what he called the "servant of the ocean", and it was only then that Ctesias realized that it had been less than a minute since the burning of the invisible fire began, but the duration they felt was far longer than the countless moments that could be accumulated during this period of time.

Azak's determination and indifference have surpassed all the characteristics he once possessed. He has become something like a diamond, hard and easy to break, but the day of breaking will never be now.

Ctesias cried out again: "Enough! There is nothing there!"

Ahriman was stunned for a moment, he loosened his hand temporarily, but then he suddenly pulled him back before Frix's body really fell.

The Iron Warrior's armor fell heavily into his arms, and his hand stretched upward, seemed to brush across Ahriman's profile, and then fell down weakly.

From Ctesias's perspective, he couldn't see any details.

The power of the High Heaven spread out, and a shrill laugh filled with joy drifted in the wind brought by the flames.

Ctesias slowly straightened himself, finding himself in the arc of fire from three guns at once, and glanced at Ahriman's back.

Ahriman pulled off the visor of the iron figure he had seized, and a handful of fine ash flew out from the armor and scattered everywhere.

His figure paused, but the silence lasted only a breath. The Iron Warriors stared in his direction, perhaps looking at their lost commander, perhaps looking at Ahriman himself.

"Put your weapons down, my brother, and my cousin," Azak Ahriman said in a loud voice. "This was not a betrayal or a murder. Your commander was replaced by an evil creature from the Warp. This was outrageous, and I helped him to be freed. This is the whole truth.

"I don't want any misunderstandings to occur. We have already had enough conflicts caused by misunderstandings. All we need now is trust.

"There are too many forces in the dark that are watching our existence. The servants of the ocean may come back at any time, setting up more tricks and bringing more undetectable evils. The darkness intends to play with us, bind us, and use us, but we will not succumb."

He paused, then repeated coldly: "I'm sorry."

Ctesias waited for the other party to request evidence, and at the same time calculated whether they could successfully defeat these iron warriors without relying on psychic powers.

Preparations for the conflict must be made in advance. He didn't think Ahriman could convince the stubborn Iron Warriors with just a few words.

And, yes, it was difficult for them to explain to people who did not understand the rules of the warp what Ahriman had discovered - in fact, even Ctesias was not sure whether Ahriman had really found a flaw, or... an extremely bad possibility: whether the Chief Librarian's mind had been damaged during this voyage, so that he misunderstood everything he saw.

His fingers curled, and then, to his surprise, the Iron Warriors literally dropped their guns.

"We believe you, Lord Ahriman," said one warrior, his voice full of bitterness like rust. "Thank you for your decisiveness, and we apologize for our negligence. If you agree, please return to the Great Library with us. We will do the rest of the explanation to everyone."

"I thank you for your understanding." Ahriman nodded, continued to hold the empty set of hot armor, and turned back to face his battle brothers.

At that moment, with a sudden feeling, Ctesias seemed to understand why Ahriman had gained the trust of the Iron Warriors.

A burnt black finger mark traced the lower edge of the eyepiece of Azak Ahriman's left eye, leaving a deep arc. The burn mark then cut vertically through the blank visor and fell off halfway through.

Like tears on a mask.

"We will go to the Great Library. The burning of Prospero should be over. I will put an end to it," Ahriman said, blood flowing down the bottom edge of his broken visor and filling the brand on his visor.

(End of this chapter)