Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 883, page 08.882: "Secret Agreement (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)"

Sizzle... sizzle.

The flickering lights shone on the corridor filled with corpses, creating an eerily quiet atmosphere.

The air was filled with a strong, pungent odor, a mixture of overheated metal, poison, and the sweet, metallic smell of blood.

The emergency lighting strips cast swaying, infinitely elongated shadows on the corridor walls, and the entire passageway, under structural stress, occasionally emitted groans like a dying beast.

"Oh dear, it seems you've decided to stick with me."

Lati's voice carried a slight distortion from the synthesized sound, overlaying her originally playful feminine tone.

"Is this why you infiltrated the Black Shield Task Force and boarded this ship?"

"No, the ship's defense system may be quite sophisticated to ordinary people, but to me, it's practically useless."

Albion's voice is a deep baritone that makes the listener feel the brightness of the entire surrounding environment decreasing, containing the chilling, predatory cruelty of the Eighth Legion's bloodline.

"No one here can stop me. If it were just about sneaking onto the ship to find you, I wouldn't have gone to such lengths." His massive, jet-black powered armor stood motionless, yet it resembled a living statue poised to strike; its mere presence made the already narrow corridor feel even more oppressive.

"Interesting. A 'scumbag' like you actually has his own 'mission'." Lati mocked sarcastically.

Suddenly, her optical sensor flashed a deep red data stream, keenly capturing the uniform, heavy footsteps coming from the ends of the two corridors.

Those were not simple footsteps, but a rhythmic, heart-stirring "clang-clang...clang-clang..." sound. Every time the ceramic magnetic boots landed, the deck steel plates trembled, shaking the dust off the ceiling pipes.

“I think this topic, though interesting, cannot be continued for the time being, monk.”

She slightly raised the corners of her mouth, a facial expression driven by a facial servo unit that mixed threat and invitation, with synthetic skin stretching into an unnatural arc at the corners of her mouth.

"I don't know where the Lord of the Night you mentioned is, but..."

"If you can take care of some 'trouble' for me, so that my investigation and experiments can proceed smoothly, perhaps... when I discover the clues you are looking for, I will be happy to pay you as a reward."

“No problem.” Albion’s hissed reply was as soft as the night, his body standing like an iron stake, but his gaze was fixed on Latti like a scalpel, unmoving.

"They agreed so readily." Lati chuckled softly, like dry metal parts rubbing against each other. "Heh, is it because of the 'prophecy' again?"

The black-armored monk did not answer.

He slowly turned around, facing the direction from which the footsteps were coming.

The darkness there was being dispelled by the beams of several sharp tactical searchlights that pierced the dimness, and in the beams, suspended smoke and debris could be seen slowly churning.

"Nightingale!" A voice came from the source of the light, filled with high alert.

“‘Foxbat’,” Albion replied with the same brief code, his voice echoing unnaturally in the metal-framed corridor.

After the voiceprint, password, and identification code were verified, Thee appeared in front of the two.

Beside her stood Brother Pirus, whose arms were covered in bone spurs, and Brother Nasser, who wore "Iron Cavalry" type Terminator power armor.

Their terracotta shoulder armor was as thick as battlements, covered with battle marks, yet it lacked any insignia of battle groups or companies, which also highlighted their mysterious identity as Black Shields.

“Father Lati, are you alright?” Tei’s gaze shifted back and forth between Lati and the bloody mess around her, finally settling on Lati’s arm, where large areas of artificial skin had peeled off, revealing a gleaming alloy skeleton underneath.

Fragments of synthetic muscle fibers hung on the smooth alloy skeleton, with a few strands of electrical sparks occasionally jumping between the exposed wires.

"There was something, but not much. And I've already taken care of it." Lati smiled, as if the conversation filled with murderous intent and secrets had never happened, and as if the toxins she had suffered had never existed.

Then, she took control of the eight-legged mobile platform on her own, and with an unsettling, spider-like grace, stepped over the wreckage on the ground and walked toward the pile of things that had once belonged to the Bloodlings.

A servo skull hummed as it flew out from behind her, its anti-gravity engine emitting a low hum. It began to analyze the still slightly writhing mass of rotting flesh with a razor-sharp red multispectral scanning beam.

“Brother Albion, you are injured.” They keenly noticed the tear in the black-armored warrior's gauntlet, where the terracotta armor was sizzling and corroding from some potent poison. “Poisoned?”

Tei spoke while her brow furrowed slightly.

She sensed a faint scent of psychic energy in the air. It was perceptible to her mild psychic mind-reading abilities, yet she resisted it.

Strange... Where did this spiritual energy come from?
As an anti-Xenomorph expert, They knew very well that the Dark Eldar strictly prohibited psionic abilities. And there were no psionicists in the surrounding compartments. "It's not a big problem, Inquisitor."

Albion said this, but beneath his tattered armor, his genetically modified muscle fibers were bulging with veins, and his body was abnormally swollen, taking on a sickly dark purple hue.

"I will try to deal with these toxins later."

Lati straightened up from beside the Bloodwalker's remains, her prosthetic arms on her back deftly holding several objects torn from the alien corpse.

One of them was a milky white serum in a glass bottle, which emitted an ominous glow in the dim light.

“Father Lati, the captain needs you to restore the warship’s normal power supply as soon as possible,” They relayed the order.

“No problem,” Lati said, as a heavy metallic clanging sound came from behind him.

Boom!
With a muffled click as a magnetic lock was released, a blood-soaked Castellan combat robot emerged from the cabin she had just left and stopped beside her.

Its scarlet armor was not only covered with splattered blood, but also covered with congealed blood, as if it were draped in a dark shell.

The muzzle of the dual-phosphorus incineration cannon was still emitting heat waves and wisps of blue smoke.

Its single red optical sensor, like a malevolent star, swept across the entire corridor with a cold, inhuman intent.

"By simply using the source energy circuit for remote control, my guards can complete the vast majority of tasks that require manual operation." Her words carried a chilling, absolute confidence in her own war machine.
-
Command bridge.

This Gothic cathedral, built for the war, has a soaring dome, and the light from countless data screens shines on the focused and solemn faces of the bridge crew.

The servo operators, with their hard-embedded control consoles, uttered low, monotonous prayer-like hymns, offering praise to the ship's mechanical soul.

A palpable tension filled the air, and the deck trembled rhythmically with the roar of the newly restored plasma reactor.

"Captain, the 'Swift Skyhawk' has been powered up and control of the power center has been restored!" came the exciting report from the propulsion department.

Horatio clenched his fist on the armrest of the command throne, but his knuckles finally loosened slightly.

He gave a brief nod to the chief engineer and then opened the communication with Latti.

A half-body holographic image of the Tech Priest flickered and appeared on the communication console, accompanied by a slight static interference.

Her face, which looked as perfect as if sculpted from alabaster, now appeared somewhat pale.

“Father Latti, your communications have been silent for a long time. Is there a problem? You look rather pale.”

Horatio asked with concern. He knew that although Latti acted eccentrically, he never failed in his duty at crucial moments.

Such a long communication interruption indicates that she must have encountered a problem that is difficult to resolve.

"It's all over now, Captain." Lati smiled innocently. "Thanks to Miss They and her Black Shield for arriving in time to help me repel the enemy."

The energy hub is back online. Please forgive me for the unavoidable technological disruption I encountered at this critical moment.

"It's alright, Father Latti, don't blame yourself. I'm glad you're alive and can continue to do your duty. See you after the war."

See you after the war.

Seeing that the Swift Skyhawk had regained its maneuverability, Horatio turned his attention back to the battle at hand.

Now, he has to deal with those tough opponents.

One was a slave ship clinging to the side of the ship like a leech, and the other was the heavily damaged black ark.

On his neural command interface, countless runes representing friend and foe flickered on the main strategic hologram, and Horatio caught a key variable.

Two friendly attack ships that had been lurking on the edge of the battlefield changed their IFF (Identification Friend or Foe) runes from blue (in a lurking state) to bright green (in a detected state) at the same instant.

They opened fire.

Both warships simultaneously fired all the ammunition in their torpedo tubes.

(End of this chapter)