Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Nurgle's first choice.

First Company Commander of the Death Guard.

The former ruler of the plague has now lost his Terminator armor and the protection of his swarms of destructive bees.

His right side was cleaved in two by Lawson's axe.

My right arm is gone.

The right rib is gone.

Half of my pelvis is gone.

My right leg is gone too.

There was no normal blood flow at the incision site.

Green pus seeped from the ruptured chest cavity, mixed with broken internal organs and insect eggs, leaving a sticky trail on the ground of the mining area.

The drag mark was emitting white smoke.

Wherever it goes, iron filings and slag rust faster.

Typhons is still alive.

Nurgle's blessing made him very difficult to kill.

In the past, this was an honor.

Now, it's time for punishment.

Lawson stopped and looked back at the mangled body on the ground.

He frowned.

"You stink."

Typhons's only remaining left eye slowly turned.

Lawson's face was reflected in his cloudy eyes.

Typhons let out a low laugh.

"mortal……"

Lawson raised his right hand, forcing out a wisp of imperial golden flame from his fingertips.

The golden flames fell and disappeared into Typhon's shattered chest.

The next moment, Typhons suddenly arched his entire body.

The power of filth should have been circulating within him.

rot.

Hyperplasia.

Defeat.

regeneration.

As long as this cycle continues, he can drag his crippled body and keep living.

Even if it is cut open, smashed, and only half a head remains, it will one day return to its loving father's garden.

But the imperial golden flames do not burn along the flesh and blood.

It followed the traces of blessing deep within Typhon's soul, advancing inch by inch.

The green pus was carbonized.

The abnormal blood vessels are dry, cracked, and curled.

The swarm of destructive bees residing within Typhon's body began to stir.

Countless flies emerged from the wound, their wings barely fluttering before they vanished in the golden light.

They were erased from both the real world and the subspace.

"what……"

Typhons screamed in agony.

The scream caused the nearby assassins responsible for clearing the area to pause for a moment.

The sense of pain of the followers of Negle has long been necrotic.

The bodies of Death Guardians can withstand poisonous gases, rotting, festering sores, severed limbs, and entrails. They even perceive pain as a loving father's embrace.

But Lawson's golden flames forcibly reshaped Typhon's pain receptors.

Typhons dug his left hand into the ground and crushed the ore.

He tried to struggle.

The chains tightened suddenly.

Living metal pierced his remaining shoulder blade, like several thin nails, directly nailing into the bone.

Lawson looked at the gradually shrunken intestines and organs on his body and nodded.

"Much more refreshing."

Typhons gasped for breath, dark green foam rising from his throat.

"You...will regret it..."

Lawson crouched down and reached out to pat half of Typhon's face.

"Don't you people ever look at your own posture before you speak?"

Lawson pointed to Typhons, then to himself.

"You're being dragged on the ground by me."

“I’m standing.”

"So you have no right to say such harsh things."

Lawson stood up and gave orders to T-001 behind him.

"Connect to the core of the Agrippina Thinker Array."

The eight robotic arms on the back of the T-001 unfold simultaneously.

Data needles pierce the mobile console. Dozens of physical cables emerge from the ground interface, connecting to its spine-like main control array.

"Physical link setup complete."

"The waste code filter is turned off."

"Full-band diffusion module ready."

"Please confirm the broadcast range."

Lawson looked up at the sky.

The sky over Agrippina was obscured by industrial smog, and the stars were nowhere to be seen.

"The entire galaxy."

Lawson dragged Typhons to a collapsed mining machine shell and stepped on his only remaining left breastplate.

The holographic sound-receiving matrix floated above Typhon's head.

Lawson looked down at him.

"say."

Typhon closed his eyes.

He knew what Lawson wanted to do.

Lawson wanted to use him as a clarion call.

A horn blessed by Nurgle himself.

All the forces of chaos would believe him if he spoke.

“You want me to lure the enemy to you,” Typhons said in a hoarse voice.

Lawson smiled.

"clever."

He slightly increased the pressure on his feet.

Several rotten bones in Typhon's chest cracked and popped.

Typhons raised his eyes.

"You will be submerged."

"But it has to be flooded first."

Lawson stomped hard, crushing a piece of his sternum.

"Start broadcasting."

At this moment, Agrippina's Thinker Array core was overloaded.

Physical radio waves, the old imperial military frequency band, the Mechanicus key channel, intercepted chaotic junk code, and cracked heretical communication protocols were all brutally broken down at the same time.

In the communication network spanning the Milky Way, there was first a burst of jarring static electricity.

The Star Speaker Tower on the Dark Side of the Empire.

The chaotic bridge at the edge of the Eye of Fear.

Eldar listening nodes deep within the network.

The courtroom's secret meeting room.

Some battlefield thinkers that have long been abandoned and whose only function remains is automatic recording.

They were all injected with a signal at the same time.

Typhons' voice carried out.