Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but Warhammer 40k

"That's really unexpected."

Theresa laid the nail plate flat on the repair table.

She recited the consecration prayers of the Mechanicus, holding a soft brush, and carefully spread the diluted holy oil along the seams of her plate armor.

Logically, metals that have come into close contact with the creations of the plague god should have long since developed rust, undergone deformities, or even activated superfluous organs.

But the reality is quite the opposite.

The plate armor in front of me was nothing but filth.

Very dirty.

"There are clearly no signs of any protective treatment, and the craftsmanship looks very ordinary."

Theresa murmured to herself as the probe moved back and forth across the surface of the plate, and the testing instrument emitted a steady electronic tone.

"It is not a technology or craft of any other race."

Merchant ships are never short of smuggled goods: Eldar bone armor plates, Titanic composite coatings, and even forbidden artifacts of unknown origin from the black market.

Each of those pieces of equipment has its own unique processing characteristics.

The only thing missing was the armor in front of them.

It was a set of handmade plate armor with no technological sophistication, yet it survived the plague unscathed.

The more Teresa inspected the repairs, the deeper her doubts became.

The conclusion that could be drawn was still that there was nothing unusual.

Deep in my memory, the drunken ramblings of a retired combat nun suddenly popped into my head:

"Faith is the bulwark, and the emperor's glory will dispel all evil."

She used to think that was crazy talk.

But now.

She looked at the armor in front of her.

A bold, almost blasphemous idea popped into my head.

Is it...

Is that guy named Henry actually some kind of amnesiac saint?

They were separated from their guards for some reason.

  

Did you end up here?

This might explain why he was able to survive in the abandoned spaceship...

Just then.

The sound of footsteps behind her interrupted Theresa's thoughts.

She looked up.

After recognizing the person who had arrived, he raised an eyebrow.

Wow.

The cold water in the rinsing area had just been turned off, and Henry was walking over on the metal mesh floor.

Water droplets, not yet dried, slid down his broad shoulders, reflecting light under the dim lamplight.

Theresa suddenly realized the peculiar habit of some Nest City nobles of keeping gladiators.

Putting aside the dangers, it's certainly not bad to watch.

Is something wrong?

Henry noticed the strange looks and asked a question casually before picking up the arm guards from the table.

The originally hard inner wall has an added shock-absorbing pad, the neck guard edge is inlaid with a fine chain mesh, and even the buckles worn from battle have been replaced with brand new alloy parts.

"Thank you for the extra padding and neck support."

Theresa looked away.

"Don't flatter yourself. I just don't want you to die too soon and drag us down with you."

She turned around and continued fiddling with the welding torch in her hand.

Henry paid no attention and turned his gaze to the corner of the workshop.

Hanging there is an exaggerated two-handed battle axe, nearly two meters long, with a wide blade shaped like half a door panel, which makes people feel its extraordinary quality just by looking at it.

"What is that?"

"An order placed by a certain Oglin mercenary."

Theresa answered without turning her head.

"Those big guys prefer large toys."

"It's big enough and heavy enough that it should be able to split a light armored vehicle in two with one swing of an axe."

Henry stepped forward, took the handle with one hand, and removed it.

The tomahawk detached from its hook, weighing a ton.

If an ordinary person wants to move it, they have to use both hands.

Henry effortlessly swung his arms twice in mid-air, creating a gust of wind that whipped up the surrounding dust.

Theresa's hands stopped moving.

She blinked: "You can actually swing it."

"It's mine now, okay?"

"As long as you can carry it."

Theresa shrugged.

"In any case, it's highly unlikely that customers who have paid a deposit will come back to collect their goods."

A series of complaints came from the cubicle.

Balu pushed open the door and went out.

The newly attached, crude mechanical prosthesis was convulsing uncontrollably, its metal hand occasionally jerking up as if in a seizure, slapping itself across the cheek.

"Behave yourself!"

Balu angrily shouted at the iron arm.

"Once we survive and make some money, we'll change your lubricant right away!"

The prosthetic body did not respond.

The crisp sound of a slap rang out again.

"Fine! You win!"

Baru gritted his teeth.

"I can guarantee I won't miss my monthly maintenance!"

The spasming robotic arm miraculously returned to calm.

Balu let out a long sigh of relief: "Finally, I've served you well. Now I have another debt to pay."

Theresa scoffed: "To be precise, it's two strokes."

During the conversation, intermittent groans could be heard coming from the shadows in the corner of the workshop.

The ex-boyfriend, who had been knocked unconscious by Teresa's wrench, slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head, looking dazed.

When he saw Baru, Theresa, and the fully armed Henry inside the house, his expression changed drastically.

"you……"

He frantically reached for the communicator at his waist, "I've been attacked—"

He could no longer speak.

The communication device swelled up in front of him, its plastic casing cracked, and several dark red, fleshy tentacles burst out.

The man opened his mouth in terror, but before he could utter a sound, the slippery beard pierced straight into his mouth and slid down into his esophagus.

Blood gushed from the corner of his mouth. His limbs convulsed as if electrified, and within seconds he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

"Damn it!" Balu immediately raised his gun, and the bullet knocked the communicator away.

But the changes are far from over.

The clump of parasites that burrowed into the human body did not stop; instead, it took hold of the corpse's neck and multiplied wildly.

The skin and flesh were stretched and torn apart, and an enormous single eye took shape in the flesh and blood.

The eyeball rolled around, its gaze finally settling on the three people inside the room.

The corpse's jaw slumped down as if dislocated, and a nauseating, eerie laugh escaped its throat.

"We've found you."

"We've found you."

"We've found you."

Henry felt a chill run down his spine as the sound of war drums rang in his ears once more.

"It's not safe here."

Henry grabbed the giant axe beside him and ran straight towards the gate.

"Walk!"

The three rushed out of the workshop.

The outer passageway has changed drastically.

Large swaths of corrupt tissue spilled out from the seams of the metal armor, blocking the path forward.

A thick tentacle burst out from the top of the wall, heading straight for Henry's head.

The battle axe left afterimages as it swung.

A sharp blade cuts through rotten flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter.

Half a tentacle fell off, its sour, foul-smelling liquid splattering across the cabin walls.

Then came the second and the third, with a constant stream of mutated limbs emerging from the shadows, only to be cleaved in two by the broad axe blade.

The weapon, forged for Oglin, was wielded with ease by Henry, as if it were an extension of his limbs.

Balu and Teresa followed closely behind, running wildly through the filth.

"Teresa!" Baru shouted.

"You have many connections on this ship, do you even know who really started this chaos?"

"I've heard a bit of a rumor!"

Theresa Responds

"Rumors have been circulating for months that someone is trying to cause trouble for the boss."

"Business competitors?"

"Most likely."

Baru's face turned ashen

"Using the warp to fight against his own kind? Is that guy crazy? Doesn't he fear the Inquisition's wrath?"

"The court would love for all the traveling merchants and ronin to die!"

(Note: This refers to individuals and does not represent the court's position. The traveling merchants and ronin are committing legal crimes.)

Henry, who was running in the lead, suddenly stopped.

"Stop!"

The two people following behind stopped abruptly, nearly bumping into his broad back.

Looking in the direction Henry was facing, the road ahead was blocked.

A massive, abyss-like hole appeared in the center of the ship.

The multi-layered armor plates, spanning several kilometers, were completely torn apart and ripped off by a violent force, as if some indescribable behemoth had directly devoured a large chunk of them. The buildings opposite had long since disappeared into the boundless darkness, and nothing could be seen.

Just now.

A sharp whistling sound came from above, cutting through the air.

Several rugged, heavy metal hulls plummeted from the sky at high speed, crashing into the distant ruins with tremendous kinetic energy.

The shockwave, mixed with gravel, spread outwards.

"And what the hell is that thing?"

Balu opened his eyes wide, carefully discerning the distant outline.

"I feel like I've seen this before... It looks a bit like the Imperial Angels' login pod?"

"But something feels off."

The hydraulic latches on the metal hatch popped open, and the hatch slammed to the ground.

Thick, yellowish-green mist billowed out from it.

Accompanied by the heavy thud of metal footsteps, a tall figure emerged from the poisonous fog.

An Astartes.

At least it used to be...

The heavy power armor bulged out in large areas due to the distortion of the internal flesh, and the original paint was covered by green rust and sores.

Rusty copper exhaust pipes pierced through the armor plate, exposing bulging internal organs, yet they remained functional.

Countless flies and poisonous insects swarmed around his shoulder armor, forming a dark cloud of insects.

With each step he took, the steel beneath his feet decayed, giving rise to foul-smelling slime mold.

Death, disease, decay.

Plague warriors who bring death.

Balu only glanced at it from afar before a strong feeling of nausea welled up in his throat.

But something even stranger happened.

They are separated by a great distance.

The plague warrior stopped, its massive helmet slowly rising towards the exit of the passage where they were.

He looked at Henry through the thick fog and wreckage.

The drumbeats in my ears were more intense than ever before.

Boom-! ! !

Danger.

Absolutely dangerous.

Even though they are separated by such a great distance.

Henry still felt that pure malice.

For some reason, Henry felt that the face beneath the helmet of that decaying body was twisting and laughing.

"withdraw."

Henry turned around decisively, picked up his battle axe, and ran back.

"This road is blocked, change direction."