Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 335 Fire
(*I don’t understand.)
The cat, whose fur looked even more gorgeous and shiny than before, sat on the table and watched himself tidying up in thought.

His claws were still sharp, and his eyes could still see everyone's ending, but he was thinking now. The process of walking with this "mortal" in the beginning allowed their minds to communicate in a "compatible" way, just like you were lying in bed, having given up all hope in this world and believed that everyone would die one day, so it would be better if everyone in this HOLYSHIT world rotted away together, but someone suddenly came and made a fully automatic exoskeleton for you, and let you passively enjoy a scene full of starlight, evening breeze, and a piece of land from death to vitality. The consequences and meaning of all actions -

New synapses of thinking activities were formed in new brain grooves and imprinted. He had been painlessly taken to the starting point of a paradise that existed only in his most meager expectations and most bitter self-mockery. He only needed to take a step and he would go up.

No one can resist this temptation.

"Hmm...our Conrad can think now. I feel relieved. Is there anything you can't figure out?"

(*Why is Ulan Huda here? - I must state that although the Night Bat Council signed the contract in my name, I did not go up to see it myself, and it was not me who finally summoned it on the ground by Salamas at that time. I am not trying to shirk responsibility, but just stating the facts.)
"That's great, those are great words, Conrad, it really makes me happy to hear you say that. And you know better than I do why Ulan Huda is here, Koz."

Ramizane, who was busy making preparations, stopped what he was doing and turned to gaze into the starry eyes of the black and white long-haired cat.

"Ulan Huda was connected to the cognition of 'the home planet of the Midnight Lords' in the Midnight Treaty. It was attracted by the life you ended here, the calls of all those suffering souls, and your own remaining life force - it wanted to devour all of this to repair itself, but because of the damaged power unit and subspace engine, it was stuck in the space layer and caused problems in the real universe on Thessaguarza."

(*Why now? Why me? Why you? Why them?)
"During the Samaras expedition ten thousand years ago, signs of civilization gradually turned into barbarism, madness and instinct in the continuous struggle for survival in the flames of war; the concepts of loyalists and betrayers have begun to lose their meaning in the long-lasting war. The Night Lords plundered every useful or valuable thing, and destroyed what they could not take away. In order to prevent the Night Lords from benefiting from it, El'Jonson would throw small or border worlds that he thought had no strategic significance or defense value to the First Legion to clear the land. For the residents of many planets, the only difference between the First Legion and the Eighth Legion is that the First Legion may consider getting rid of them in advance before plundering and burning their homes. Only their own people, without property, culture, hungry and displaced. - What you destroyed here back then is what you and I will rebuild. All the lines of elements will be gathered together again because of this, in order to achieve... a vision that had been destroyed, smashed, and discarded."

His dark eyes stared into the eyes of the one with the strongest and most accurate prophecy among all the Primarchs. "If you have no home, Konrad, you don't have to make everyone homeless. You now have the spark of everything. You don't have to serve the dark future or go against it because of lies. You can build the best home without scruples, your own."

(*…I once said this to Leon.) The black and white long-haired cat walked to his body with an elegant pace. His demeanor looked strikingly similar to the melancholy poet's offspring whom he had just mocked. (*We are all barbaric weapons that have been forged and endowed, wielded ignorantly by hands that do not know the cost. The unbearable danger of wielding weapons is due to the ignorance of the hands. We are all.)
Koze's long, furry, squirrel-like tail swayed, and Ramizane calmly reached out to cover his Rekha coffee cup.

"Do you have any new insights now?"

(*Yes, I would say that Perturabo was right to gamble everything on one throw. Although I find this sentence annoying, he did try at that moment, he took action, he did not give up, he persisted, and I must say that I am indeed... grateful for his motivation at that moment.)
"Do you need me to repeat it? It would be better if you could say this to him yourself."

(*No, no thanks. I don't want to see that disgusting 'you know I told you you'd thank me' look on his smug face. Thanks. I'll scratch this stupid dog's face.)
"Next time you meet him, you'd better be more respectful to him and don't call him a stupid dog, otherwise the Iron Blood..."

(*Is the Magnar Dorn on the Iron Blood really not Rogal Dorn?) The cat suddenly asked.

"How should I know?" The person being asked was stunned. "You have to ask Perturabo. He said that it was just a shallow personality fabricated from a small part of Dorne? It seems so?"

The black and white cat stared at its own body, and a very "Midnight Haunter"-style, hypocritical smile of gloating began to appear on its face.

(Oh, nothing. Say hello to Magna Dorn and Angron Petra and my other brothers. As for old Malcador, I hope he enjoys the job he asked for.)
"No problem, but I won't repeat it verbatim."

(*I know.)
Ramizarn finally gathered his few handicraft supplies, coffee cups and other small items into boxes, put labels on them, and took care of the ugly pillow that the long-haired cat had made by hand. He then lay down properly on his own pillow - now their bed was no longer the tattered cloth and garbage piled up on the first day. Now it was a large bed that met the specifications of the original body, large enough for a person of Conrad's size to sleep in any posture and angle, with a large mattress made from eight ordinary mattresses, as well as pillows, quilts and pajamas.

"Are you sure it's today?" (*I'm pretty sure I can see some people's stupid and arrogant declarations about the times clearly across the galaxy.)
"Well, I hope nothing unexpected happens...there will definitely be no accidents! Huh!" Ritual runes drawn in a way that no one could understand and equipment from ancient times vibrated around them.

A psychic frenzy that shook and terrified the souls of hundreds of millions of people swept across the sky of the entire galaxy. The blood-red wound began to tear the galaxy apart bit by bit. The chaotic torrent of time and space began to wash away all places where the stars shone, and the order of time and space became fragile.

"Oh Pepe and the others... I hope I wasn't gone too long..."

----------

When the ominous blood-red wound finally spanned and hung high above the entire galaxy, the door of Midnight Haunter's bedroom opened.

The person who walked out was as noble as ever. Only those who were most familiar with him would notice that his steps were less lazy and more like a strange beast.

The First Claw and the Navigator couple, who had been waiting at the door early, were here.

"What are you all doing here? The big rift in the sky won't affect us. Do what you should do and appease the crew and the people on the ground. We still have a lot of things to do next!"

Led by the "Prophet" Talos, the Night Lords performed a deep Nostramo heart-holding salute to their master, then turned and left.

The navigator came forward holding the child, supported by her husband.

"He's a really good man. He deserves it," she said finally.

"of course."

Conrad Kurtz nodded.

"He deserves it."

"Is there any chance we can meet again?"

"Yes." The Night Lord smiled happily, showing his shark-like sharp teeth. "Yes. I will bring him more."

(End of this chapter)