40K: When evil spirits appear

Staring at the mangled body, Kyle Rido hugged the light gun tightly to his chest.

His lips trembled; he wanted to speak, but no words came out, and his gaze darted aimlessly around him. He looked first at the broken golden horns, then at the right arm Draco Steelborn had retrieved from the pool of blood, and finally at the horrifying wound on his torso...

Finally, the image focuses on those eyes.

Four days ago, they were burning with a crimson light, and although he only caught a fleeting glimpse of them, he was still shocked by their purity. But now, those eyes were alarmingly dim, almost extinguished.

Sergeant Amighadoon clenched his teeth and suddenly handed his light gun to the Grey Hunter, who was busy checking on the soldiers.

"Please keep it safe for me."

Steelborn turned around impatiently, about to refuse, when he met eyes that seemed to be ignited by gilded light. He was speechless for a moment, realizing in shock why the alpha wolf had insisted on bringing this mortal, whose chest was adorned with medals as if he were going to a military parade, against all odds...

He took a deep breath, solemnly accepted the weapon—which was too small and ridiculous to him—carefully held it in his hand, and took a few steps back.

The sergeant pursed his lips, nodded to him, glanced down at the body, and then closed his eyes.

The badges on his chest were the first to melt, one after another. A blazing, bright golden flame followed, erupting from every inch of his flesh and blood, completely engulfing what had once been his. In the blink of an eye, Kyle Riddo of Armageddon—a sergeant who had served his homeland and legion for thirteen years—vanished completely.

His consciousness dissolved in the golden light, along with his body, and went to the other side of the Milky Way...

Instead, a silhouette stood in place, a shadow cast in pure gold. He had no face, but his mere presence caused all the surrounding demons to cease their activity. They trembled deeply at his presence, as if they had encountered their natural enemy, and he did not even spare a glance for them.

His gaze was fixed on a battlefield not far away, where Logan Grimner's pack of wolves was locked in a fierce battle with Angron.

Axes and swords slashed its flesh, bombs, plasma, and molten guns followed closely behind, but it didn't care at all. Like a wild beast, it swung its claws, tore, gnawed, and even devoured—it had no dignity whatsoever, it wasn't even a warrior, it was just a pure monster.

Then it stopped.

The wolves did not give up; they continued their howling attack, but time stood still at that moment, truly still.

The Emperor raised Kyle Ridge's melted left hand, from which a point of gold emanated.

It struck Angron precisely, but instead of unleashing a horrific spectacle of carnage, it gently and calmly seeped into the corrupted body. Over the past ten thousand years, the Blood God had reshaped this filthy flesh countless times, infusing it with eternal rage and a rein born from the wellspring of Angron's torment.

He held it firmly in his hand, using it to tame and drive a former man, turning him into a slave and a beast, but now he could no longer do so.

Those things that were once the butcher's nails, now alive and possessing life, gradually turned to nothingness and then vanished. Then came Angron himself; his wings turned to ash, his armor scattered into dust, and his bones and flesh quietly disappeared...

The demon was dead, and the gladiator of Nukelia slowly opened his eyes.

"It's you," he said, seemingly unsurprised. "Finally."

"Your crimes are unforgivable," the emperor said.

"I know," the Nukelian nodded. "Then come on, all I ask for is death. I have never brought anything worthy of respect to this world, which is exactly the opposite of what you expect of me. I am of no value to you anymore. Kill me, and then tell everyone else that Angron is dead..."

At this point, he suddenly laughed, a laugh full of sarcasm. But even so, the laugh was perfectly calm, devoid of any trace of the pain caused by the butcher's nail.

"Of course you will refuse. In the end, what difference is there between you and them? To you, I am just a tool, and if I am not used, I have no meaning to exist."

"No," the emperor said.

This single sentence left Angron speechless.

After that, his face was also erased by the golden light, and the emperor had clenched his left hand tightly, as if he were holding something he could never lose again...

Meanwhile, in a very distant place, on a desolate plain soaked in blood, the Blood God cast a glance. Surprisingly, He seemed completely indifferent.

In the material world, the place where a terrifying beast once existed is now completely empty.

Time began to flow again. The wolves were pushed apart by an unseen force, gazing at each other in bewilderment. Only Logan Grimner turned back, then knelt on one knee. Beginning with him, one wolf after another paid the highest tribute to their father.

But Quan's father simply clenched his right fist.

In the next instant, a beam of light burst forth from the bottom of the blood pool, enveloping everything in the dead city—broken walls, corpses and blood, demons and humans... Nothing could escape its light, and no evil could survive its glow.

Amidst indescribable howls, the demons' flesh and even their souls began to disintegrate one by one. In the Emperor's wrath, they were all pulverized.

However, the light did not harm anyone.

The wolf, grievously wounded in the battle, rose again, then was pulled to his knees by his brothers. Bathed in light, their breaths trembled with excitement. This day would surely be remembered forever, sung for another ten thousand years by the hearth of Ete, but only a few of them raised their heads to gaze upon that golden silhouette.

Among these people, Draco Steelborn saw it most clearly; he even vaguely saw a blurry face.

The emperor came to his side.

"Son of Ruth, I beg you to keep that weapon safe," he said. "It is the last thing Kyle Rido has left in this world."

"Yes, Father..." Gang Yi bowed his head deeply.

"No need for that, raise your head," the Emperor said again. "I want you to witness this."

What will we witness? The answer will be revealed soon.

Draco Steelborn saw the Emperor's form begin to dissipate, just as Kael'thas's body finally gave way. But the golden specks of light did not vanish into nothingness; instead, they drifted down and merged into the warrior's eyes, which were now dim beyond measure.

In an instant, a faint crimson light reignited, tinged with a golden hue, like the last rays of sunset on the horizon. The warrior's wounds began to heal; his right arm, salvaged by the Steelborn himself, reconnected with the severed arm; even the broken horn on his head began to regrow, losing some of its ferocity and gaining a crown-like weight...

But he did not wake up, even though his wounds had completely healed.

Steelborn instinctively wanted to ask, but the thought had barely formed when he heard the Emperor's last voice—it was no longer calm as before, but strained and filled with weak gasps, like the last sigh of a dying person on their deathbed.

"Every weapon has its limits, let alone a person. Ruth's son has already expended too much energy. Let him rest for a while; it is his right."

After these words, there was complete silence.

Steelborn instinctively gripped the light gun in his hand, exhaled a breath of air that he had been holding back for a long time, and then raised the gun to take a look.

He noticed it was exceptionally well-maintained; despite its age, it gleamed brilliantly. He had no doubt about the weapon's lethality; although it was merely a laser weapon, it could still be effective in the right hands. However, as he looked at it, he noticed a small piece of charred metal lying on the ground where the gun's muzzle was pointing.

Steelborn bent down to pick it up, and it was burning hot to the touch.

He examined it closely for a moment and realized it was actually the remains of a badge that had melted down. The ribbon had long since burned away, and the exquisite reliefs and inscriptions had vanished in the golden light...

Steelborn silently placed it into the small pouch on his armor belt.

The wolf pack closed in.

"Let's go, take him back to the nest," the alpha wolf said without hesitation.

-----------------

It wasn't until some time later that Ald realized he was dreaming.

How could this be? He was very puzzled. He almost never dreamed, especially after becoming a warrior, but his intuition didn't seem to reject this dream.

He walked on a patch of scorching red sand.

Judging from the surroundings, this was an arena, or rather, a gladiatorial arena. He thought, then looked around.

He saw a blazing sun hanging in the sky, and the surrounding towering stands were filled with people, but they were all indistinct black shadows, unable to utter a sound, as if they didn't exist. At the other end of the red sand, a giant lay among many corpses far smaller than himself. He appeared to be asleep, but tears streamed freely down his face.

Olde went closer and looked, and found that there was not a single Butcher's Nail on the back of his head.

May you rest in peace. He thought.

"He has never had a moment of peace before," a voice came from behind him.

Alder turned around and saw the emperor dressed in black. He stood in a place where the sunlight could not reach, as if he had come to attend a funeral.

"He is your son," Old said in a declarative tone.

"Yes, that's true, but..." The emperor shook his head and didn't say anything more, letting everything fade into a barely perceptible sigh.

Ald walked toward him, but instead of stepping into the shadows, he trod on the red sand beneath his feet.

After a while, he asked, "You seem to be doing better than you were a while ago."

"Not so, Alder," the Emperor suddenly called out his name. "I merely entered your dream, which is why I can communicate and interact with you... Your mind is exceptionally resilient, far surpassing that of others. This is the basis of our conversation."

"If they had my strength, they might be able to do even better than me."

"And then go through everything you've been through?" the Emperor countered. "Sacrifice is easy, but living is hard. Many people have the courage to die, but they are afraid to live."

Ald remained unmoved and said, "I just did what I thought I should do."

The emperor remained silent for a long time. He seemed to have something to say, but couldn't utter a word. After a while, he stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight. The sun's rays fell on his thin, bony shoulders, illuminating everything.

Ald stared at him and noticed that the emperor of the empire, the one fanatically called Lord of Mankind, was not wearing any crown. Moreover, he looked extremely tired, with prominent cheekbones and sunken cheeks, and his eyes seemed almost embedded in their sockets.

"I want to thank you," the emperor said.

“There’s no need for that,” Ald replied calmly. “I fight only because I want to fight, and I must fight. I have witnessed the evil that plagued the land, causing the extinction of my civilization and my people. I know their true nature and the extreme malice they harbor towards the living. They must be exterminated, without exception.”

The Emperor laughed, a laugh of approval, and nodded. "Yes, they must all die... but you seem to see yourself as a weapon. Don't do that, Ald. You are not a weapon, never have been. Don't forget that."

Upon hearing this, Old looked at him carefully and suddenly asked, "Is this based on your experience?"

The emperor paused for a moment, then chuckled.

"Yes, yes," he said with a smile. "I learned a painful lesson from it."

Old nodded: "Then, I will correct my mistakes."

"May you not have to go through what I have gone through. Now rest, Ald, you have done enough," the Emperor said.

After saying this, he strode towards the other end of the red sand, walked toward the still-sleeping giant, squatted down beside him, and stretched out a thin, bony hand to gently stroke his forehead.

"Don't tell anyone about this," the emperor said with his back to him.

Old didn't answer, he simply closed his eyes. A deep weariness washed over him, leading him into a dreamless slumber...

He didn't know how long he had slept, only that at some point he heard the sound of bells ringing in his ears. Real, clear, and close at hand. It took him a moment to realize what it was—it was a memento that Saen of the Ironheart tribe had received from the rune priests after completing her apprenticeship, a sea dragon bone bell.

It only makes a sound when a breeze blows.

Ald slowly opened his eyes.

The sickly sky of Amighiddon had vanished, replaced by a piece of black metal with bones hanging from it. Then he heard a muffled hum from within the walls, and the sound of several wolves conversing in Yuvik. Their voices were very low, as if afraid of waking him.

He sat up, greeted them, and talked to them, but after a while he frowned.

"...The courtroom is surrounding us? What does that mean?"