Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but Warhammer 40k

dark.

Cold darkness.

Deep within the abandoned spaceship, a few dilapidated emergency lights still linger on.

The dim, yellowish light flickered and faded, crooked and distorted.

Illuminating the rusted and mottled bulkhead.

It also illuminated the skeletal remains scattered across the ground.

They belong to different races, come from different eras, and have lived different lives.

Because of the power of the subspace, they finally died here, embracing each other.

Occasionally, the groans of the ship's hull due to thermal expansion and contraction could be heard from afar.

Click.

Click click.

It was as if some enormous creature was lurking in the shadows, breathing slowly.

Two beams of flashlight pierced the darkness of the corridor.

Two figures, one tall and one short, trudged forward through the ruins, their steps uneven.

Their armor was pieced together from various sources.

Most of them were scraps that the ship's engineers shoveled out of the junkyard.

The shoulder armor was discarded stock from a bankrupt family's guard unit, and the breastplate was hammered out from the metal hull of an alien ship.

Each weld was as rough as a novice's work, and countless patches proved that they had changed hands at least three times.

  

"Hurry up."

The older man raised his wrist and glanced at the timer.

"In two hours, this area will enter the tidal zone."

"None of us will get out of here alive."

The young man nodded haphazardly, while the beam of his flashlight continued to sweep around.

His excitement was barely concealed by his demeanor.

Most scavengers who board a wrecked ship for the first time are like this, always fantasizing that they can find a priceless treasure that will change their fate by simply pushing open a cabin door.

Weapons and equipment from the Great Crusade Era, alien treasures, or perhaps the remains of an Imperial Angel...

They are tireless scavengers.

But the vast majority of them don't live to see the day they can redeem themselves.

suddenly.

The beam of light was fixed in front of them.

"Old Hawke."

"Um?"

"Is there someone lying over there?"

The older person looked in the direction of the light.

In the dead corner at the end of the corridor, there was indeed a figure sitting leaning against something.

Most of its body was hidden in the shadows, and it remained motionless.

The two men cautiously raised their guns and waited in place for a moment.

After confirming that there was no movement, the young man mustered up his courage and went closer.

"Hey, wake up."

"Is it panting?"

The people on the ground did not react.

"Never mind this unlucky guy."

Hawke frowned, a bad feeling creeping over him, and urged,

"We don't have much time left."

"Ran a quick search of his belongings and get out of here. We're here to make money; there's no reason to leave with a burden."

The young man squatted down.

With the help of the light, he was finally able to see what the other person looked like.

It was a young man, wearing a set of knight's armor.

Knight Armor?

It looks like an exhibit stolen from some museum.

"That's strange."

The young man couldn't help but mutter.

"How could someone wearing such equipment die in a place like this?"

"Moreover... there are no wounds on his body, nor any signs of warp erosion."

Hawke let out a sneer.

"Rookie, what kind of weird things can't you encounter in a wrecked ship?"

"A region where time stands still, a subspace folded layer, a lost refugee ship from thousands of years ago... who knew this thing had been lying here for centuries."

"Maybe he was already resting here before we were even born."

The young man responded with a half-understanding, and then quickly began to grope the other person's body.

A few seconds later.

His eyes suddenly lit up.

"Old Hawke, come and take a look at this."

"What?"

Hawke took two steps closer, examined it carefully, and immediately chuckled.

"This armor is complex but impractical."

"But it's all handmade."

"There seems to be alien blood on it? Blood I've never seen before has seeped into the metal."

"Tsk."

"As long as you can come up with a decent story, those knightly families would definitely be willing to pay a high price to collect it."

The young man suddenly said:

"What if he was originally a member of a fallen knightly family?"

"If we take him back, we might be able to get a hefty ransom."

Hawke rolled his eyes.

"Have you ever seen a legitimate knight end up in such a poor and pathetic state?"

Even if he is a knight

As he spoke, he reached out and lifted the tattered robe covering Henry's chest.

"Is it probably another Freeblade?"

"What is that?"

"A bunch of criminals, liars, vagrants, stray dogs, and madmen lost in their own fantasies, expelled from their families," Hawke scoffed.

In short, they were a bunch of penniless bums.

The young man was somewhat disappointed, but adhering to the professional ethics of thieves never leaving empty-handed, he stubbornly continued searching.

Finally, he felt a hard object in the other person's inner chest pocket.

"Wait, what is this thing?"

The young man pulled the item out.

The two of them froze on the spot.

A classically designed phonograph.

The case is made of brass, and the mechanism is intricate. The craftsmanship is exquisite, and it seems like something that could not have been made in this era.

"Oh My God."

The young man's eyes lit up.

"We've struck it rich! This is definitely a valuable antique! Those aristocratic collectors will empty their treasuries for it!"

Hawke was about to nod in agreement.

A sudden change occurred.

A hand suddenly emerged from the darkness and gripped the young man's wrist.

Click.

It felt like being clamped by hydraulic clamps, and the bones made a cracking sound as if they couldn't bear the weight.

The young man's face turned deathly pale.

The excruciating pain shot straight to the brain along the nerves.

"ah--!"

Screams echoed through the enclosed corridor.

Hawke took a step back, instinctively raising his gun and shining his flashlight beam straight at the ground.

The young knight, who should have been a corpse, had opened his eyes at some point.

His dark eyes slowly focused in the bright light.

It became dangerous and terrifying.

This is a madman who has killed many people...

Thinking about this, Hawke felt a chill run down his spine and his scalp tingle.

He clearly had a gun.

Yet, I still have the illusion of being choked by a wild beast.

The stalemate lasted for a long time.

The knight on the ground finally spoke.

His voice was hoarse and rough, as if his vocal cords had not vibrated for a long time.

"Give me back my things."

The young man was in so much pain he almost knelt on the ground.

"I'll give it back! I'll give it back to you! Let go first!"

Henry stared at the phonograph.

There was a few seconds of silence.

He then slowly loosened his grip and took it back.

Then she hugged him and curled up in his arms.

It was as if it were something more important than life itself.

He fainted again.

An eerie silence fell over the entire corridor.

Hawke and the young man looked at each other in bewilderment.

I don't know why.

They suddenly realized...

It seems I've stumbled upon a terrible problem.