Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 558 When You Didn’t Notice Schrodinger’s Cat…
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“Forgetting is sometimes an excellent way to preserve.”

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He is watching with his keen, alert, sleepless eyes.

Once upon a time, he and his companions had carried out hunting according to tradition on the ancient human home planet.

He has been both the hunted and the hunter.

Encountering danger, meeting powerful enemies, changing into various forms, or using any handy objects as weapons are just the most basic parts of the training and tempering he has received.

Therefore, when everyone's attention was captured by more important things and more dazzling people in the scene.

He was also shocked at who he had seen. His experienced mind had just recovered from the order to fight for no more than a second before he judged the outcome of the game and realized the opportunity hidden in this chaotic scene.

He should take this chance to figure out what was going on here, where this place was, what those... mutants, who were neither pure nor normal, but full of madness and danger, were, and finally, what had happened to him since he last remembered where he had been - why was he here?
So, before everyone remembered his existence and began to focus their attention on him, he acted decisively, took off the incorrect color he was wearing (when did he change back to this color? He had no memory of it), and hastily hid it and the weapon he also held in his hand but was not his favorite (unfortunately, they should still be very useful, but with the destruction of Cadia, they could not be retrieved).

Then, he quickly and quietly disguised himself with the power armor and residual biological tissue of the dead, and saved some of them for future use.

Then everything went as he had imagined: when the order for the great retreat was finally given to everyone who could hear the news, there was almost no organized retreat plan on the ground.

Even though the Dark Angels or the Imperial Knights have their own retreat sequence, this is not the case for most other places.

The Imperial Fists and some ancient gunboats with the insignia of the Silver Skull Chapter, which gave him a strange feeling he couldn't describe, landed in unusual numbers and frequency on the cracked surface of the planet that was about to be destroyed by the resonance of impact and supernatural forces, and fired their flares at the same time. As long as anyone who could catch these flights approached and did not trigger some kind of alarm mechanism, they would allow these refugees who would never come into contact with this kind of Astartes aircraft to board the ship.

As long as a gunboat is filled with refugees, it will take off immediately without having to wait for air command or arrange routes. It will leave as soon as people arrive.

The retreat routes and the spacing between vehicles were terrifyingly dense, but each vehicle, especially those of the Silver Skulls, miraculously maintained collision-free and ultra-high-density flight throughout the entire process, as if they were not some heavy and huge deadly flying arsenals that could carry a squadron of Astartes or several Dreadnoughts, but just some light, hardworking, buzzing bees.

They desperately travel between deep space and the surface, but instead of transporting nectar, they transport people fleeing the worlds they are destroying.

It really fits the chaotic and crazy scene of the destruction of the world.

But this would be beneficial to his subsequent plan of blending in with them.

When people fled, they discarded most of their belongings, and some things happened that would never happen in normal times.

He even saw soldiers discarding shells from ammunition boxes and filling the boxes with Khadian soil.

He heard them say, "Yes, sir, I hope that when I die I can have a handful of soil from my hometown sprinkled on my grave."

It was obvious that the place was filled with wounded and dying people, with thick bloodstains, thick and messy bandages everywhere.

Therefore, with a facial wound covered with blood and bandages, he passed the alarm safely without arousing any suspicion.

The only thing that worried him a little was that he didn't know which ship he would eventually be assigned to escape from here. If it was a very small ship and there were too many people squeezed on it, it would not be easy to hide himself for a long time.

For him, the best destination was the Phalanx. On that semi-abandoned but still majestic fortress, he was confident that he could hide for a month or even three months. Moreover, the final port of call of the Phalanx was a completely certain place.

So he pretended to have a head and neck injury and was unable to speak or communicate much, and limped onto a gunboat painted in the colors of the Imperial Fists.

To his surprise, they were eventually sent to the Enterprise, which was said to be from the Rogue Trader Dynasty, because it was said that the area of ​​the mountain array that had been opened could not accommodate so many refugees.

——If the mountain fortress can’t do it, can a mere merchant ship do it?

It's crazy.

He repeated it in his mind, sneering at the decision makers' minds that always made decisions on the spur of the moment.

At first he thought that perhaps this meant that there was a newly-warped Dynasty cargo fleet following behind, which made some sense, but he discovered that there was only one ship in the void waiting for them to land, the Enterprise.

Oh, was this damned merchant going to cram them into the lower deck space like sardines or an old slave ship? Perhaps he should have thought of a way to get out when he landed...

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So at this moment, he is forgotten and lurking alone somewhere on the Enterprise.

He thought about what he had seen: the battle in the underground caves of Cadia... He needed to find another opportunity to verify everyone's identity. If the identity of the Primarch was true, then he just happened to witness the rise of a hypocrite who was even more harmful to the Empire. Perhaps this was also a coincidence that he appeared here and witnessed it.

The Enterprise may be part of a grand conspiracy, a base to overthrow the Empire.

But the Phalanx looked to be operating in conjunction with the Enterprise, and he mourned for a second at the thought that the Imperial Fists might have fallen.

Well, if the Terran guards were not so reliable, he could only contact more reliable people, trust his own brothers, and collect more intelligence here before finding a way to leave here and contact them. So he immediately changed his appearance and identity, hid near the door of the hangar, and prepared to see if there would be a new opportunity to get some vehicles soon.

But he hid in the dark and observed the evacuation and destruction of the Black Legion's remaining fleet (he heard that the Vengeful Spirit had already left with the injured Abaddon before that, which was why the Black Legion fleet became unwilling to fight), and was amazed at the Enterprise's powerful and all-round firepower system that ruthlessly and devastatingly counterattacked any Chaos ship that dared to take advantage of the ship to receive refugees, the shield position that remained strong under the opponent's long-range main gun bombardment, and the communication and dispatch system that was completely unaffected by the various chaotic radiation, waves and subspace energies here.

Even as the ship was conducting a saturation counterattack, there was not even any accumulation of refugees at the diversion area of ​​the hangar below. As soon as all people landed, they were led away by the guides who had been waiting there, as if the servitors and Astartes here knew as a matter of course how to guide and allocate them.

Then came the last three Terras of Cadia, until they began to see the crust of Cadia crack and the ghosts awakened from the surface mass graves formed by the remains of those who had died here over the millennia fell howling into the molten mantle and down to the core, and he began to feel that he should stay here.

Because in these three hours, he was shocked to find that this battleship, which according to everything he knew about the Imperial ships or the most extreme colony ships, could theoretically only accommodate a hundred thousand people at most, and which was suspected to exceed the specifications of the flagship of the Ronin Merchants and reached the scale of the Primarch, had quietly received at least four million people - and what was even more horrifying was that, seeing that the final death of the planet was approaching, the Imperial fleet also evacuated here, and even the Mountain Array began to fly away, leaving only this ship alone in place, and then, facing the first and second continents of Cadia, it opened its huge underwater valve.

a beam of light.

Light falls from the sky.

Shine upon those who are ready to calmly accept the fate that their planet and their trenches are their graves.

While the observer's brain was buzzing with the rubbing and beating of the laws of physics and the common sense of the real universe, the beam of light had already sucked up all the survivors like a giant whale sucking up water, and then sailed away, catching up with the other ships that had left, leaving behind only a broken Cadia Gate that could no longer withstand the surging scarlet tide.

Is this reasonable?

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This... is it because he has been away from this galaxy for too long due to unknown influences?

Was this an ancient engineering marvel that was discovered on Terra, Mars, or somewhere else when he was not aware of it? He had heard of similar things, but they would always require repairs, research, and years of purity verification and appeasement of the machine spirit before they could be put into use. He did not remember hearing any relevant intelligence before he left his guard position for the last time.

So, where was this giant starship that he had never heard of discovered? Or where was it secretly built? Who allowed the investment of these resources? How did this huge consumption of resources hide from all the relevant departments and vigilant managers? He had no idea. Could it be that the Mars and Jupiter docks are still hiding something from them today?

In view of this, he believes that this ship, which was supposed to carry the glory of the Human Empire, cannot be ruled out as having now become an evil nest full of heretics and spies, posing a threat to the Emperor and the entire galaxy.

Not only should the lurking continue here, but it also requires further observation and planning.

The resolution has been made.

Next comes execution.

The lurker's steps seemed ordinary, but they did not cause any sound in the dark corridor. He controlled his bones and muscles precisely, and his movements were as silent as a shadow in the night.

Each of his steps was carefully calculated to avoid any sensors or guards that might give away his position. His heart was filled with loyalty to the Emperor and a firm belief in his mission, which was as strong as the armor he once wore, supporting him through the darkness of space.

An unsettling silence permeated the interior of the Enterprise. For a behemoth that had swallowed at least tens of millions of people, the upper deck was eerily silent. Only the occasional sound of machinery running in the distance would break the silence.

Lurkers know that beneath this silence, there are often countless dangers hidden.

From what he had seen so far, there were heretics, mutants, and seemingly mutated Primarchs whose loyalty and purity were at risk, and perhaps even more threats that might be waiting in those shadows, ready to pounce on any unwary intruder.

But the lurker is not afraid. There is an unyielding light in his eyes. He is the agent of the master's will, and no corruption can shake his soul and determination.

As he gradually approached the possible target area, the air seemed to become heavier, and with every step forward, the lurker could feel the inexplicable gaze from the depths of the darkness becoming stronger and stronger, but he tried several methods and could not lure out the source of the gaze, nor did he find any observation lenses, scanning arrays or similar things.

His intuition told him that it might be more dangerous if he stayed where he was, so he decided to keep moving.

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The figure of the lurker almost blended into the shadows in the ventilation duct above the corridor. His movements were silent, as swift and light as a Guangdong cicada. He approached the hall carefully, where he could hear the voices and the special movement of the power armor from afar. The hatch of the hall was unguarded, and it was open like a tempting trap. Bright light shone from inside, blending with the lights in the corridor.

Now that he was so close to the door, he could vaguely hear the low voices of conversation coming from inside and the slight collision of power armor.

The owners of these voices were wearing power armor of various colors and were scattered throughout the hall, vaguely forming different groups. They showed that they had not yet completely let down their guard, and their body language also revealed an unusual tension.

The hall was brightly lit. There was no throne on the high platform in the center. Instead, an Astartes was standing on it, apparently answering questions with other people in the hall.

His face was covered in steel and his body in silver armor, with a shiny new skull mask emblem on his shoulder armor, and the Iron Court Guards guarded him around.

When he started talking, the name he introduced himself caused the eavesdropper's pupils to shrink in surprise.

"I know you all have a lot of questions in your mind right now, so I'm here to answer some of the questions I can. First of all, the name."

He paused. "Maybe some of you know me, maybe none of you know me, but it doesn't matter. I'm Barabas Dantioch, and I'm glad to see you here."

(End of this chapter)