Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 383 He Loves You Very Much
Grace Augustine lay trembling on the sand, clenching her teeth to suppress her sobs, her rapid breathing causing her transparent mask to fog up.

She forced back the trembling in her body, making every movement extremely careful, daring not to be reckless in any way, and quickly calmed her racing heart.

Just as she was enduring the pain, the tall figure returned and threw some kind of wearable device on the sand.

After the colonel knelt down and saluted, he quickly picked up the equipment and distributed it to everyone. Finally, he forcibly put one device around the doctor's neck to prevent her from causing any more trouble.

"mortal."

Once everyone had their translators ready, Obelisk spoke slowly, his deep voice carrying immense pressure: "Recognize your place."

Miles immediately prostrated himself on the ground, his submissive demeanor resembling that of a white hunting dog, showing submission to the powerful.

Others followed suit, prostrating themselves in a deep bow, their movements stiff and somewhat unaccustomed to such etiquette.

The doctor opened her mouth, intending to say: "A civilization like yours should not have the custom of kneeling, trampling on the dignity of others."

Before she could speak, the colonel had already grabbed her throat, preventing her from making any sound.

"May I see you, sir?" He looked up expectantly. "I have taken control of the entire base and eliminated the weak."

"Wait." The tall figure remained expressionless, revealing no emotion. He drew a horizontal line on the ground with his battle staff and solemnly warned, "Do not cross this line."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards the campfire, leaving the team with a broad silhouette.

Watching the tall warrior leave, Miles breathed a sigh of relief and signaled the others to help carry the doctor to the back to await his summons.

"You bitch, watch your words." He glared at the doctor fiercely, regretting bringing her along. This woman had no rationality and could kill everyone at any moment.

The colonel wanted to kill her immediately, but he was afraid of being scolded by the adults, so he hesitated and couldn't make up his mind.

Left with no other option, Miles issued his sternest warning: "You're not a soldier, you can't feel the way those adults look at you, there's no pity or mercy in their eyes."

"We have no initiative; passively accepting is the only way to survive."

He drew a dagger from his waist and pressed it against the doctor's jaw, the tip piercing his skin and drawing blood: "If you don't understand this, I'll cut off your tongue right now, so you won't kill us... even this planet, and our homeworld."

Augustine's pupils dilated. The excruciating pain from her fracture and the warm blood flowing from under her jaw finally made her realize her current predicament. She nodded heavily, ignoring the dagger pressed against her throat.

"Please set my bones, Colonel."

She lowered her voice, her condescending tone gone, replaced by a heartfelt sob: "I don't want to die yet, the universe still holds too many secrets."

“It should have been done long ago.” Miles sheathed his dagger, casually wiped the blood off his clothes, and nodded in satisfaction. “A proper attitude is the first essential element of survival.”

A hundred words from a person are useless; a single act of teaching will truly touch one's heart.

A few minutes later, the sound of the doctor's bones dislocating came from the woods by the sea, along with her muffled groans of pain she was trying to suppress.

The sun was still shining brightly, and the sea breeze was gentle and warm.

The roar grew louder as another landing craft descended from space, its paint as red as blood, with crimson reliefs of outstretched white wings on both sides of the hull.

The colonel and his men hid in the woods, craning their necks to observe, every detail of what was happening on the beach was worth recording and analyzing.

The landing ship's doors burst open, and the alien visitors who emerged caused their pupils to dilate and their mouths to gape in astonishment.

Doom, who was grilling fish by the campfire, stood up, a smile unconsciously appearing on his radiant face. He patted his shorts to shake off the sand and gravel, welcoming his brother's arrival.

The moment the hatch opened, a tall warrior stepped out, clad in gold-plated power armor and holding aloft the Holy Blood Angel battle banner.

A crimson battle banner fluttered in the wind, embroidered with the image of Saint Gilles in his red robe. The Primarch folded his wings and looked up at the sky. A golden halo shone behind his head, and his arms were outstretched, embracing the void. In one hand was the Holy Grail of Purity, and in the other, a blood-stained rag representing sacrifice.

Wow~Wow~
The Primal Guard marched out in two columns. These warriors were imposing and extraordinary, each with a handsome face and an extraordinary demeanor. They wore magnificent gold-plated power armor, held precision-engineered power swords, and had flight backpacks decorated with pure white wings on their backs.

The red carpet rolled down the ramp of the aircraft cabin, as vivid as blood, embroidered with patterns of wings and swords, recording countless honors.

A sacred light shone inside the cabin, and a tall figure slowly emerged. His blond hair flowed freely, his azure eyes were pure and flawless, and he wore a slight smile on his face.

His body was covered in golden power armor, with dark red gemstones inlaid on his shoulders, chest, waist, and knees. A pure white leopard head adorned his left shoulder, and soft fur extended down to his waist. In his left hand, he held a golden spear with a tip like an angel's tear, powerful yet elegant; in his right hand, he gripped a golden-winged longsword, pointing it at the ground and burning with raging flames, magnificent yet deadly.

Saint Gilles' pure eyes flickered slightly as he saw his brother standing in the distance, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

His great brother stood by the campfire, not wearing power armor, or even formal attire.

His strong, well-built upper body was bare, his skin gleaming in the sunlight, and his lower body was on the white sand, wearing only a pair of casual beach shorts.

Saint Gilles spread his wings and took to the air, landing in front of his brother and planting the Crimson Blade and Teresto's Spear into the sand.

He opened his arms to his brother, his words filled with joy and sighs: "Doom Norwick, my great brother."

"The journey to find you was not smooth, full of twists and turns and unexpected events, but we still met in the sea of ​​stars."

"Welcome." Doom opened his arms and embraced Saint Gilles: "All the anxieties of the journey will eventually turn into the joy of meeting again."

The two giants embraced each other, feeling each other's sincerity and strength, and only separated after a long time.

Saint Gilles pointed to his brother's casual attire, then lightly tapped his own armor, his beautiful face feigning displeasure: "Does it seem I've gone too far?"

“That’s right.” Doom nodded solemnly, gesturing for Obelisk to come forward and offer his brother some casual clothes: “Take off the tension and fatigue, and relax.”

The archangel's eyes lit up. His brother, without any solemn ceremonies, was welcoming him in a more heartfelt way.

It's easy to see from this small gesture that my brother is a thoughtful person who knows how to adapt to circumstances and show appropriate care.

"You've put your heart into this." He looked at the short coat the soldier was holding, his tone softening considerably, and the resentment he had picked up from Nur vanished.

"Remove your armor!" Saint Gilles opened his arms, not refusing his brother's good intentions, and let his offspring remove his power armor for him.

Just as the genetic offspring was about to step forward, the imposing brother in front of him raised his hand to stop him and said something that surprised him.

“Let me help you.” Doum rubbed the fine sand with his foot and said very seriously, “It’s not convenient to build a ladder here. They are a bit short compared to our height.”

Saint Gilles was taken aback, then his smile deepened. A warm feeling of closeness welled up in his heart. He closed his eyes, opened his arms, and said, "Come on."

Seeing him close his eyes and raise his head, looking as if he were ready to die, Doom shook his head helplessly, walked behind his brother, and began to disassemble the power armor.

At the entrance of the landing ship, upon seeing the harmonious brotherhood of the Holy Blood Angels, their hearts trembled uncontrollably.

Although the journey was somewhat unpleasant, the King of Warriors' demeanor and approachability upon reaching his final destination dispelled all unpleasantness.

"The Emperor's craftsmanship?" Doom removed his shoulder armor, stroked the surface of the armor, and noticed the familiar forging techniques.

"Yes."

Saint Gillis nodded slightly: "Before I left Terra, my father personally forged the 'King's Glory' and sent me on my journey."

Handing the armor pieces to the Blood Guard, Doom recalled the Emperor, the man who wielded a hammer to forge armor for his son who was about to go to war.

"This shows that he loves you very much."

This time, Saint Gilles did not answer, but stood silently in place, letting his brother remove his armor for him.

Because the archangel didn't know whether his father's attitude towards him was one of love or hatred.

If it's said to be affection, then when he sees me, he will intentionally avoid looking at my wings; if it's not affection, then he will go to great lengths to forge armor for me, providing me with the strongest protection.

“He’s an eccentric person.” Doom said in a low voice as he disassembled the armor, describing the Emperor’s personality: “He doesn’t express his emotions directly, and ‘silent type’ doesn’t even begin to describe him.”

"The Lord of Mankind has lived too long and forgotten how to express his emotions. But there is no doubt that he loves you and your brothers."

Saint Gilles remained motionless and silent. Doom noticed the muscles in his perfectly profile twitching slightly, clearly indicating a smile: "He still favors you."

“But I don’t love him.” Doom shrugged indifferently.

(End of this chapter)