Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

If Tizca had not fallen into a situation full of blood and screams at this time, how would the locals have welcomed the arrival of the Emperor's Children's fleet?

First of all, they must raise their heads. Regardless of gender, age, status and identity, all Tizka people must raise their necks wearing simple gold ornaments from their small town called the City of Light, and open their colorful eyes. Look up to something truly glorious as you look up to the sun.

The air will be filled with the rumbling thunder of running engines, but people will cover it up with cheers. Gold and silver ribbons will be sprinkled from the tops of tall buildings. When the iron boots fall in the center of the large square paved with white stones, the soldiers' cries will be heard. There should be flowers thrown by the Tizka at your feet.

At this moment, the two Primarchs strode out from two directions. As the brothers embraced each other, the Maester's milky white robes and the Lord of the Legion's yellow, black, and silver armor were close to each other, showing that they were both sons of the Emperor. Connected affection.

If this is the dawn when the night is still lingering, then the silver moonlight should dissipate when the two people's hugging hands leave each other's backs, and the brighter sun should rise from the end of the sky at this sacred moment. The brilliance indicates the grand promise of the Lord of Mankind for a future as magnificent as the dawn.

Tizka will happily bask in this noble heavenly light and join a great empire that is reviving.

But Tizca greeted Perturabo with a different face. This land offers the Iron Warriors night, chaos, a pure land of blood and scars and bones that will be drained - this is all Prospero has.

Perturabo stood cautiously by the window, observing Prospero from above.

All the data sent by the auspicious omen are extremely pessimistic. All the data that can be detected confirm that this planet has become a nest of the Devouring Bees, beasts capable of tearing apart all living creatures with their terrifying jointed limbs and insect wings. Instead of deserts and oases, the entire planet launched a collective attack on Tizka, like an unconscious revenge, destroying Tizka a thousand times that had blocked them, and killing the Maggs who had repelled them. Noos.

Tizca, on the other hand, has become an unknown nightmare like a black hole, and any detection method is limited to outside the boundaries of the city. No information can escape from the city, it's like time has independently stood still there.

"All weapon arrays have entered preheating, sir." His heir reminded dutifully, "Do you need to reload ammunition and prepare energy weapons?"

"This is my brother's homeworld." Perturabo turned from the window, no longer immersed in the visible destruction. "I ordered the preparation of weapons in order to deter local residents."

But today Prospero no longer needs intimidation. It was hard for Perturabo to imagine what this deserted but beautiful and peaceful planet had gone through during the time he had been away. What he couldn't even imagine was what kind of disaster Magnus was experiencing in that undetectable city of light.

Before he was forced to leave the return fleet, the last time he saw Magnus was still crying in his hut, embarrassingly exposing the weak hesitation in the red giant's heart.

Now, the dark plot against the first brother he personally welcomed back has apparently been implemented. Can the weeping Magnus really survive this catastrophe safely?

Of course, his descendants have also learned of Prospero's current situation. Not to mention deterrence, it is difficult to tell whether there are still local residents alive on this planet. It was through them that the military reports were delivered to Perturabo.

Defes asked: "So do we still need weapons now?"

"One day." Perturabo said, "After Prospero rotates for a week, if the situation still remains unchanged, conventional firepower will be used to conduct orbital bombing outside Tizca City, and then half of the first, fourth, and fifth battalions will be deployed. The Astartes follow me into Tizca."

It was not a good idea to knock on Prospero's door with cannons on his first official visit, but Perturabo knew that rescuing Magnus was infinitely more important than paying attention to etiquette.

"Prospero hurt my brother." He said coldly. "Even if she is Magnus's home planet, it cannot change her crime."

Defes immediately saluted and spread Perturabo's order throughout the fleet.

Perturabo glanced at his wardrobe, briefly hoping that Morse would show up in time to tell him how Magnus was doing. He did not wait for the movement to come from the closet. The first thing to change was Prospero himself.

Perturabo watched the entire planet roll through a golden-red shock wave like a stone falling into the water, and the endless swarms of bees died in pieces like weeds blown down by the wind, with an iron-like solemn expression. Finally added real surprise, and a soft joy.

——

Magnus sat against the wall on top of the ruins, looking up at the night sky.

He knew that in that fleet of iron-gray battleships, the intact Perturabo was standing by a certain window, looking down at the planet on the verge of destruction. He saw many unknown weapons attached to the ship. According to his understanding of Perturabo, what these weapons needed to destroy the half-dead Prospero was probably just two volleys.

"Morse?" said Magnus.

"Yes, Perturabo is coming. Let me see, lasers, plasmas and missiles, macro cannons, lances and atomic torpedoes that don't look ready to fire," Morse recognized the equipment of Perturabo's fleet. The laser was a trophy obtained from the Olympia satellite where the Black Trial lived at that time, and it has now been put into actual combat.

"If you particularly like a certain one, I can tell Perturabo about the one with more launch points." He said, with a small amount of anticipation for that scene.

Magnus took a deep breath, but choked on the dust that filled the top of the pyramid. Regardless, the Primarch's turbulent heartbeat calmed down.

"Please tell Perturabo not to fire." Magnus said, the noble face of the original body showed rare solemnity. "I do not want malicious rumors about my home planet to be destroyed by my brothers to spread in the future."

"Well..." Morse said, "It's not urgent. Perturabo doesn't want to blow through the center of Prospero's earth right away. So how do you deal with the remaining bites on this planet? The Spirit Bee Crisis, and the remaining eight subspace energy furnaces that are ready to move? "

"Prospero is my home planet." Magnus said, and the spell runes he had just laid the foundation for transformed into a golden-red light ball in his palm. "But she hurt my brother, and are enemies of my people.”

He clenched his fist, extinguished the golden light, and lowered his eyes. "I'm going to end everything here myself."

"Then you have to pay a little price," Mors replied. "Even if you are the Primarch, you cannot completely ignore the basic rules of using spells. As for what you should do, with your wisdom and creativity, Do you still need me to teach you a set of ready-made spells?"

Magnus nodded, the ends of his burnt red hair trembling: "I know."

Morse's remaining conscience allowed him to hold back his sarcastic remarks. He sighed: "Do it and give it your flesh and blood."

Magnus rose from the ground, remembering for the last time the suffering that was being endured in this once beautiful land. In the stagnant time and space, he saw people's silent shouts, waving arms, torn limbs and spilled blood. This fragmented and devastated place was solidified like a sculpture.

"How blind I was," Magnus murmured softly. "My eyes only stared at the light above, but never looked down at the disaster in the shadows."

A string of reassembled spells flowed from his mouth, and Magnus raised his hand and clasped his fingers on his trembling eyelids.

The order to tamper with reality was demanding retribution from him, and the pain of swallowing the broken blade rose in his mouth.

The Primarch knew that this power demanded more.

Magnus felt the eyeball of his right eye rolling uneasily under his fingers, as if he were touching a concrete symbol of crime. An oppressive force pressed against the surface of his eyelids, and his breathing slowed down after a quick burst.

Let's do it, he thought, breathing a sigh of relief, and then Magnus dug out his own eyeballs.

If both eyes still fail to see the folly committed, let go of the one eye that always stares blindly at the glory.

He did not shed tears or cry out in pain, only the momentary stagnation of breathing. Even the speed of reciting the incantation did not change at all. Only the solemn regret was added to his tone. In order to repay from today - he would devour the soul many years ago. When the bees came to Tizca, he enjoyed the aura of salvation that saved the city; and this disaster was caused by him. As Perturabo said, he no longer has the shame to call himself a hero. Now, it's time for him to take responsibility.

Magnus was not a habitual sadist or masochist, but when he crushed the soft ball in his palms and exchanged the flowing blood for the washing of the land of Prospero, an unprecedented relief was born from his pain.

Everything he saw - even though parts were missing - was so clear, the golden and red waves rolled over the surface of Tizca, and the ferocious beasts were burned up in the invisible fire, and even the ashes were destroyed.

The evil temples in the distance collapsed together, and the remaining eight colorful bird statues that had brought spiritual enlightenment to Tizca lost their divine power and disintegrated into dust haze. After starting it all, Magnus ended it.

The power of the curse carried his dedicated right eye to see all kinds of scenes from cities to wilderness, from deep valleys to mountains. Magnus knew that he would travel to Terra in a few days, and before that, he would see every inch of Prospero, down to the last detail.