I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 494: Steel decays, stone remains strong, gold rusts, courage remains
Titus couldn't remember why he was standing on this sandy land.
Yellow sand blew from the other side of the sky and hit Titus' face, making it hurt.
On this land of hot yellow sand, many facts have become blurred.

Perhaps he is here on a mission, perhaps he landed here by accident, perhaps he was the victim of a conspiracy by some enemy of the Emperor.
Or.
"I'll keep an eye on you, traitor."

"You have been abandoned by the Chapter, traitor."

"You are corrupted, traitor."

The voice rang in Titus's ears, and in the rolling heat waves, Titus vaguely saw several figures standing beside him.

He saw Leandros, the recruit who had reported him to the Inquisition, now a priest, gazing at Titus with suspicion.
He saw the Inquisitor Thrax, holding the cruel instruments of torture, staring at Titus with a sneer.
He saw the Chapter Master Calgar, who looked at him coldly, as if he had spit on him, ignored him, and given up on him.

Angry?

A voice was in Titus's heart, burning like wildfire in his heart.

They repay your loyalty with suspicion, they respond to your devotion with abandonment,
Warrior, you are right to be angry, you are right to kill,
Say: Blood sacrifice to the blood god, skull sacrifice to the skull——————

"I am Demetrian Titus, former Second Captain of the Ultramarines, son of Robert Guilliman, Captain of the Ultramarines of the Doraemon Chapter, loyal to the Emperor, loyal to humanity, and loyal to the Primarch."

Titus suddenly remembered Saint Doraemon's teachings in the past. He had mentioned the current situation and told Titus how to deal with it.

"I am Demetrion Titus!" Titus emphasized this fact.

He heard a roar of rage and felt anxious, annoyed and ready to make a move.

The desert grew hotter, the sands rougher, the winds fiercer,
Everything was grinding Titus, and those once solid facts began to be peeled off from Titus bit by bit.

He only wants anger, and if he does not accept His gift, He will only leave him with anger in the end.
Everything else will be lost in the wind and sand.

"I am Demetrion Titus!" Titus emphasized this fact and then stepped into the desert. He didn't know how to escape, but there would be a way out. As long as he started to act,
The monotonous desert stretched out beneath his feet, becoming hotter and hotter. Titus could see nothing. No,
He could see Leandros, Inquisitor Thrax, and Chapter Master Calgar, all watching Titus, staring at him.
"We will keep an eye on you, traitor." Their voices rang in Titus' ears.

Titus ignored them and continued on his way.
So, step by step, day by day, year by year, he went forward, he sought a way out,
The bloody sun always hangs low in the sky, the yellow sand is always blowing, time becomes blurred, and the years are stretched out.
The sand and gravel kept hitting him, grinding away his existence bit by bit.

The power armor on his body began to fade, and the markings on it were worn away and no longer clear.

The medals that represented his former glory began to break, and finally on a certain day in a certain century, they turned into powder and disappeared from his fingertips.
The three of them were still looking at him, but he could no longer remember their names.

"We will always keep an eye on you, traitor." A cold voice rang out from their mouths, filled with suspicion, distrust, and disgust.

Their sight, their voices, and the dizzying heat all around them combined to fuel the rage in his heart.
Kill them, vent your anger,
Blood sacrifice to the blood god, skull to the skull throne,

That voice sounded, urging him, persuading him, and guiding him.
"No." He said in a dry voice, "I am."

"I am Demetrius Titus." He emphasized this fact, he could not forget this fact. So time continued to pass, at a very slow speed, at an imperceptible speed,
The sun does not move, the scene before my eyes keeps repeating and continuing, only the power armor that is constantly eroded by the wind and sand proves the existence of time.

Later in a certain century, when the desert was illuminated by the sun and turned blood red, at a moment when he had almost forgotten everything and his existence was almost wiped out by the yellow sand,
His power armor, which had long been worn out and had pits and dents, was broken into pieces. He staggered out of the wreckage of the power armor, and the yellow sand sprinkled on his strong body. It hurt, hurt, hurt.
The three of them were still there, but their power armor had been wiped away by the yellow sand, and their flesh had been dried by the heat wave. Only three dry heads were left lying in the sand, staring at him.
"We will always keep our eyes on you, traitor." A cold voice sounded in their mouths.

He vaguely remembered that he still had something very important to do. For the Emperor and for humanity, he should fight.

But why does he linger here? Century after century.

Why does he stay here? Century after century.

Why? Why was he trapped here?
Kill them. His voice rang out: Swing the sword and kill them, cut them down, don't let them hold you back from the battle.

Then, blood sacrifice. Blood sacrifice.
He gently raised the chainsword in his hand and looked at the three withered heads.

"Who are you?" A sinister and bloody voice sounded. On the chainsaw sword in his hand, whose name he had forgotten, a figure wearing silver-red power armor was reflected: "Who does your anger belong to?"

".I am Demetrion Titus."

"My wrath belongs to the Emperor, to humanity, and to Saint Doraemon."

"I am Titus!!!" An angry voice came out of his mouth.

He let out an angry growl, his anger burning, and the chainsaw sword in his hand turned into ashes. The figure wearing silver-red power armor disappeared.
But before disappearing, the silver-red warrior laughed wildly, mocking Him, and angrily shouted at Him.
"I am Jor, I am a Blood Knight, my rage belongs to Sanguinius and the Emperor." The silver-red warrior roared, and then disappeared in an instant.

The roar of the silver-red warrior suddenly shocked his spirit, and he saw a low wall in a trance.
This was the first time in centuries that he saw a change in the desert.

He was naked, confused and ignorant, all his existence was polished away by the yellow sand, leaving only the anger in his heart, the three heads that were always staring at him, and
"I am Titus," he repeated.

Then, he stood in front of the wall, which was made of red sandstone and was covered with carvings.
Floor plans, design drawings, plans, one carefully designed escape plan after another, repeated attempts, and traces left by a blunt sword.
Apparently, there was once a man like him trapped in this desert, corrupted and tortured by him.
That person was unyielding, that person was rebellious, that person tried to escape again and again, leaving behind everything on this wall.

He could no longer understand these designs, these plans, these floor plans.

Even if you understand it, it doesn't make much sense, because these attempts have been denied by the people who carved these words.
In the end, he only understood the two short sentences engraved on the top of the wall.
“Steel decays, but stone remains.”

“Gold may rust, but courage endures.”

He whispered, and then
"I'm Titus."

The God of Blood let out a low roar of irritation.

(End of this chapter)