The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Latest website: Hearing Octavia mentioning the Primarch, Talos did not appear surprised or angry, but shook his head with a smile.

"Probably."

Septimus rubbed his hands uneasily, then said softly:

"Master, I heard that the Soshyan Chapter Commander of the Astral Knight values ​​you very much and regards you as his right-hand man. I think...he will find a way to heal you."

"Valel or Dietrian told you these words? You'd better stay away from Valel, you are by no means ignorant of his style of conduct on the Blood Oath, not to mention... some It's better to know less about things. I can't protect you forever. Don't cause unnecessary trouble to yourself... As for me, everyone will have their own destiny, which can't be changed by anyone. Not even the Emperor can change."

When the word "death" was mentioned, Octavia's body trembled obviously.

Then, she turned her head to look at Septimus and nodded, and the pilot turned and walked out the door.

Talos noticed their movements and smiled:

"Did you bring other people? It's like saying goodbye at the end of the day. To be honest, I'm not a person who will lie in bed and wait for death. You don't need to worry about me for the time being."

With that said, Septims came in, surrounded by three children, a girl and two boys, the eldest boy seemed to be seven or eight years old.

They surrounded their father, looking timidly and curiously at the giant on the bed.

"...Ottavia had lost her fertility after giving birth to little Talos (the number zero that Valer said before, readers who forgot can go back to chapter 891), thanks to Valer's surgery We have three more children, the second son is Makushen, the third daughter is Dasha, and the fourth son is Serion, all healthy."

Talos sat up from the bed and looked at the children with strange expressions.

"Ha, Valer still has this kind of technology. If he goes to the nest to open a hospital, he will definitely make a lot of money, but then again... If Cyrion knew that you made him the youngest, he would definitely be furious. "

At this time, the eldest Makushen suddenly said in a tender voice:

"Are you... are you the angel of the God Emperor!"

A smile appeared on Talos' face.

"Yes, I am his angel, the angel representing death."

Makushen stepped forward cautiously, reaching out to touch Talos' knee, Octavia hurriedly stretched out his hand.

"Don't be rude."

"fine."

Talos waved his hand and let the boy walk in front of him, then stretched out his hand and let the other's delicate palm brush the scar on it.

"It's so big.... It's amazing! Uncle Angel, what about your wings? I see that the paintings in the church all have wings."

The boy's eyes widened.

"Mom said that you are sailing in the sea of ​​stars, and the evil dragons are fighting. They were all given wings by the emperor, and can travel among the stars. Is this true?"

Talos smiled slightly, a smile that Octavia had never seen on the face of this Soul Hunter, like a child.

"The wings are folded. We only open our wings when we face the enemy."

Makushen had inherited his mother's eyes, with brown pupils, but his hair was as light gray as his father's.

Talos' gentle attitude seemed to dispel his fear when he first met. After the boy blinked, he asked very seriously.

"People say I'm brave, can I be an angel like you? Is it possible?"

Talos looked down at the child, who looked so far away that he didn't even reach his waist.

But what did he feel—

Perhaps, that was the feeling he was looking for, that he saw his former self in this boy.

Talos then bent down and asked softly.

"Why do you want to be an angel?"

"Because...because, mother said the angels are heroes, I want to be a hero!"

be a hero.

This sentence hit Talos' brain like a heavy hammer, shattering the ice wall of so-and-so, and letting those things he tried to forget resurface from the deep sea of ​​memory——

He has always been a dull child.

At least his mentor would use it to describe children who were sitting apart from others, and he knew that they belonged to him.

There were a total of four dull children in the class. The four of them sat by the window. Usually, they basically ignored the teacher's words, but they were never punished for it.

The fourth and youngest boy of the four sat with them, looking out the window with the others.

There are vehicles passing by at night, and the headlights of the cars are very dim, after all, it is necessary to relieve eye fatigue.

The gloomy night sky was obscured by the tops of the towers, each adorned with a giant luminous sign selling everything the grown-ups needed.

The boy turned to face his tutor, who listened intermittently to her speeches about language, and what she taught other children—children who were not dull.

Words are still a novelty to them.

The boy didn't understand at all, why are these words so unfamiliar to everyone? He had already read it no less than a dozen times in his mother's book.

The mentor noticed that he was looking at her, and hesitated for a moment, usually ignoring him, pretending to forget his presence with that casual and familiar intimacy.

The boy didn't take his eyes off her, he thought to himself, maybe she'd teach him a new word or something.

Sure enough, she did him, pointing to a word written on a flashing screen and asking him if he knew what it meant.

The boy didn't answer her, the boy rarely responded to his mentor, and he suspected that was why the adults said he was slow.

When the bell rang, announcing the end of the lesson for the night, all the children rose from their seats, most of them packed up their writing boards, and the dull ones stuffed paper with childish pictures. to the side.

The boy had nothing to pick up because he had done nothing but stared out the window all night.

It's more than an hour's walk home, and longer if it rains, and the boy walks past vehicles stuck in traffic, listening to the drivers yelling at each other.

Just a block or two away from where he was walking, there were gunshots like popcorn popping, apparently two gangs fighting, and he wondered who it was and how many died.

He wasn't surprised when his friend caught up to him, but the boy had been hoping to be alone tonight.

He smiled at his friend, pretending he wasn't offended, and his friend smiled back at him.

His friends weren't really his friends, they called each other friends mainly because their mothers were friends, and the two families lived in living quarters next to each other.

"The instructor asked you a question tonight."

said his friend Charles, as if the boy hadn't noticed him.

"I know."

"But why didn't you answer? Don't you know what to say?"

That's the problem, the boy never knew what to say, even if he knew the right answer.

"I don't understand why we are going to tutoring."

He answered, and the surrounding city was moving and breathing as always, tires whizzing down the next road.

Voices of accusations, inquiries, and pleadings intertwined loudly and loudly~www.readwn.com~ There was a gripping music from the nearby buildings.

"It's for learning, of course."

The boy's mother had told him that his friend would grow up to be "heartbreaking one night" and the boy didn't see it.

Also from the boy's point of view, his friend always looks confused, angry, or angry at being confused.

"Our tutors were all talking about things I already knew, so why should we study? I just couldn't figure it out."

"Because...that's what it should be."

The friend's expression was full of confusion that made the boy laugh.

"Every time you talk, you ask really stupid questions."

The boy didn't care, his friend just never understood this kind of thing.