Warhammer: My Mother Sanguinius

I don't resent the actions of the Imperial Fists, nor am I angry at their father, Rogal Dorn.

Because similar things have happened too many times in the past few decades, we have long been accustomed to such unfair treatment.

But there was still a feeling of worry in my chest.

I couldn't help but think.

Will our Primarch be as stubborn as Rogal Dorn?

Will He force us to support His right or wrong judgment and shape us into what He wants us to be?

What choice will He make if we fail to fulfill His expectations?

Such worries did not last long.

Because there is no shortage of new wars in the galaxy. When I stab the buzzing chainsword into the enemy's body, when the hot blood hits my face. All worries will fly away from my mind as if they have wings.

Following the footsteps of the war, we come to the Taga galaxy.

This is an agricultural planet called Nisander, although this planet is attached to the Tagar mutant kingdom.

But the people who rule this planet are not mutants, but humans with pure blood, who have not been distorted by the long old night era.

"join us."

The fleet in orbit broadcast to the surface, "You and I are brothers and sisters."

"Do not resist," the armor-clad angel ordered to the rulers of Nisander. "If you reject the glory of the Emperor, you will usher in the destruction of the Emperor."

But the foolish and arrogant ruler refused.

then--

The destruction begins.

At dawn, thousands of angels of death descended from the sky.

The war started when the sun just rose and ended before the sun set.

Under the red light of the setting sun.

I walk among the dead and the dying.

My nose twitched slightly, and my genetic detection nerves began to revive, driving me to select the most suitable food from the corpses everywhere to fill my never-satisfied hunger.

In terms of results.

This battle is not much different from the hundreds of battles we have experienced in the past.

Because of the stupidity and short-sightedness of the rulers, millions of people paid their lives, the prosperous capital was burned, and large tracts of farmland were turned into scorched earth.

I am not a butcher who only knows how to kill.

I also have my own philosophy and am full of imagination.

If I hadn't become a Space Marine, maybe I would have been an artist.

"It is better to die free than to live enslaved." For such an unknown reason, these people chose to be enemies of the empire.

As they wished, the Angel of Death brought death upon them, their sacrifices would be forgotten, and those who survived would become citizens of the Empire.

Everything they once had - language, culture, traditions - will be systematically erased.

As a result, the deaths of these soldiers were worthless.

I stopped.

Genetic detection nerves help me choose the most suitable foods.

A young woman with long purple hair and eyes of the same color, who looked about twenty years old.

The skin is slightly dark and the face is resolute.

She was seriously injured. Under the streamlined armor were wounds torn by explosive bombs, and the poisonous flames corroded her internal organs. This serious injury should have caused death.

But she survived.

I could see in her eyes a desire that made her overcome the intense pain and fear of death.

I wanted to figure out what this desire was.

Childlike pure curiosity urged me to make this choice.

but--

An army team appeared in front of me and blocked my movement.

The leading officer saluted me, not with the fist of unity, but with the Sky Eagle salute, which has become more and more common in recent times.

"grown ups."

He hesitated, but gritted his teeth and said, "We have received orders and must treat the enemy's wounded."

I tilted my head.

This statement is quite new. Choosing the right food on the battlefield is a matter of convention. In the hundreds of battles in the past, no one has ever organized a ghost army to do something similar.

"This one belongs to me." I stood up and said calmly, "She now belongs to the Ninth Legion."

The shadow enveloped half the team.

The face of the team officer changed again and again, but fear still choked his throat, making him lose the ability to speak out and argue.

He waved and called the other members of the team to leave, but a female medical soldier in white still stood here stubbornly, refusing to leave.

"Sergeant Amit."

She said seriously, "We have our orders, this soldier is injured."

I touched my chin and grinned, but there was no smile on my face. The female medical soldier squatted down and began to fumble in her pocket, hoping to perform preliminary treatment on the battlefield to stop the bleeding. The pupils of the young Nisander soldier with long purple hair shrank slightly, and more hope emerged from those beautiful eyes.

But, then——

boom!

Accompanied by a roar from the servo system, a punch came down without any warning.

The poor woman's head disappeared from her body in an instant, and fragments of blood, brains and bones spewed out, some of which fell on the medic's face, flowing down her fair cheeks and into her lips.

Her bravery was completely defeated, her beautiful face was distorted with fear, and she bent over and retched.

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"Okay, now this soldier is dead."

I shrugged my shoulders with a sincere smile on my face, "Now you can leave with your conscience and a clean conscience."

"We will report this matter to our superiors, Sergeant Amit!"

The officer of this team rushed back, stretched out his hand to help the medical soldier stand up from the ground, and spoke with the courage he finally mustered.

"up to you."

I replied in a nonchalant tone, already eager to enjoy my booty.

I squatted on the ground, carefully picked up the broken skull, and then picked out some gray brain tissue from the muddy ground.

Some of the brain tissue was stained with bits of bone and stone, but I didn't care. My teeth could chew these things as easily as chocolate.

I tasted the memory of dead soldiers.

I swallowed, and the memories came flooding back to me.

Studying in a spacious and bright classroom, the tip of the pen rustles on the soft paper, and the scent of ink fills the nose.

Interning on a busy dock, operating a huge circular crane, living a busy and fulfilling life, and having many fantasies about the outside world.

Then that morning, I was awakened by a loud announcement.

I opened the curtains, but I didn't see the sun's rays in the sky. The empire's war machinery blocked the stars.

I could feel the fear through her eyes, what a novel feeling it was.

The last and most profound memory.

It was the day before entering the battlefield. Her grey-haired mother opened her arms and gave a warm hug, praying for her daughter to return safely from the battlefield.

My cheeks were dry and cold, but I could still feel the tears as they streaked down my cheeks.

A hug from my mother is so nice.

I sat cross-legged on the dirt next to the woman’s headless body.

I was immersed in her memory, as if the person being held was me, enjoying this moment of peace.

Then--

This brief peace was interrupted by a harsh voice in the communication grille, and Legion Commander Osuran's order sounded in the highest priority channel.

"All brothers of the Immortal Nine, you can set off for the planet Pentalus now!"