40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 606 124. Interlude: The Adventures of Callistarius

Callistarius could clearly detect one thing, his perception was fading.

At this moment, he was like a person suffering from an eye disease. Every morning, he would see a blurry world, until one day he was completely blind, or could no longer see anything clearly.

In some wild worlds, the disease is known and regarded with awe as a curse. This view is very consistent with Callistarius' current situation - he is indeed cursed, a curse from the warp.

This chaotic and disorderly place showed an abnormal desire for his soul. He could hardly see anything in front of him, only darkness remained.

But he could vaguely feel the gaze of those things, as well as their slippery limbs, mouths full of desire, full of teeth, eager to chew flesh and blood.

In the past, this has never happened. Perhaps it was because the ceremony was incomplete and he entered the subspace alone without any helpers? Or does it mean that the Warp doesn't want him to find Sanguinius.

No matter which way it was, Callistarius knew that this was not a good thing, but he did not choose to stop, but continued to call. He shouted Sanguinius' name over and over again and tried several different spells.

Oaths, reverse summoning circles, searching for people and objects, divination - Callistarius spent all his life learning to find Sanguinius in this place, but still found nothing.

He didn't know that the person he was looking for was not in the subspace.

But here he is.

He is lost and cannot return. At this moment, no one who can help him in the material world can rush to him, so this terrifying loss may continue for a long time.

The Warp is a greedy place and has been since time immemorial. Its original purity and harmony disappeared, replaced by the most terrifying things in the minds and hearts of intelligent creatures, occupying almost all space.

Getting lost here never means a good thing

But darkness isn't the only thing here.

The Warp is a mirror, a reflection of the physical world. There are no boundaries, no logic, and theoretically anyone can accomplish anything here.

Although Callistarius's constant calling failed to find his father, he attracted an unexpected look.

The owner of that gaze is a strange being. It looks like it is wearing a robe, with the ends flying, but the texture is not very light, but gives people a heavy feeling, and the color is pale, similar to the ashes after burning.

As soon as it appeared, it tore apart the surrounding darkness, and pure and powerful psychic power flowed everywhere that Callistarius could see, making the place as bright as day.

It was so powerful that Callistarius immediately became extremely vigilant, but that consciousness established a spiritual link with him without his permission, and the whole process was extremely smooth.

+First meeting, lost angel. +

The consciousness said a polite and friendly greeting, the first but also the last. After that, its psychic energy exploded in an instant, wrapping Callistarius.

The young think tank immediately recognized part of the principle of this spell with his own knowledge. He recognized that it was a protective shield involving some kind of indestructible oath power, with golden light shining in it.

Callistarius's heart trembled - how could he not recognize this power? Not long ago, they turned into thunder and bloomed from his fingers, purging the demons.

He wanted to say something, but the consciousness did not give him more time. The rolling fog swept in and forcibly took him out of the subspace in an instant.

The violent tearing feeling almost made Callistarius scream. His body was calling his soul, asking him to go back, but his soul was drifting away.

Feeling dizzy, Callistarius opened his eyes little by little and saw a jackal mask with a cold metallic color.

The mask was ferocious and terrifying, every detail was lifelike, and the eyes carved from rubies were shining with psychic light.

One hand slowly raised and took off the mask.

"It's not easy to find you." The man behind the mask sighed. "Even if I've been inspired to calm down, okay? Your problem is actually easy to solve."

The man came up to Callistarius and took his hand with both of his.

The young think tank suddenly felt a burst of warmth. The power soothed his anxiety and uneasiness, erased the pain caused by being too far away from his body, and even replenished part of his strength out of thin air.

However, this was not the most shocking thing about Callistarius - what really made him almost lose his voice to ask was the temperature he felt from that man's hands.

Not the temperature of strength, but body temperature, the temperature of the living.

He is now just a conscious body, a soul that has left the body. In other words, he is a lonely ghost. According to Callistarius's knowledge and experience, it is absolutely impossible for a ghost to feel the 'temperature of the living'. Yes, this is a paradox.

"It's not difficult." The person holding the mask seemed to sense his thoughts, suddenly smiled and made a very confident gesture.

"If I can't even do this, how can Iskandar Khayon's name deter the ghosts who try to enter our world?"

Calistarius frowned, his pupils dilated - if he still had any - and finally cried out.

"Who?"

". Khayon, Iskandar Khayon. As a think tank, haven't you heard of my name?"

"No." Calistarius answered quickly. "Why do think tanks have to hear your name?"

"Are you serious? Could it be that you didn't read "The Book of the Jackal" on your way to learning how to become a qualified think tank? No? Well, then what about "The Division of Psionics"? There is no such thing either? Ah-"

The man holding the mask sighed in annoyance and threw the jackal mask on a long table behind him.

It was not until this time that Calistarius realized that the clothes he was wearing were actually very similar to his image in the warp, the only difference being that the robe was not pale and had normal texture.

"——You're not going to tell me that the Blood Angels think tanks don't even have the "Detailed Study of Psyker Duties" which is updated every 18 years in their internal collections, right?" the man who called himself Khayon asked.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with you?"

"Of course it does." Khayon said lightly, with his hands behind his back. "I'm the editor-in-chief, young man."

Calistarius didn't refute him for the time being, because the heavy book that was updated every 18 years and that all psychic organizations in the empire had to receive did have an editor-in-chief.

Moreover, the editor-in-chief's name has not changed since it was released, and it has always been "The Wolf of Tizca".

Calistarius looked at the jackal mask that was thrown on the table.

"What?" Khayon asked with a raised eyebrow. "Do you remember now?"

"I don't believe you." Calistarius said. "Who are you?"

The giant laughed, he took a step back, and bowed gracefully. The steps of court etiquette, but with his hands on his chest, he made a sky eagle, which seemed out of place. However, it seemed just right for him, without any sense of disobedience.

"I am Iskandar Khayon, a wizard who travels in the galaxy. Of course, with the curiosity of the think tanks, you will obviously not be satisfied with these evasive words, so I decided to be frank."

Callistarius found that his expression suddenly became extremely serious.

"I am one of the last descendants of Magnus the Red." Iskandar Khayon said coldly. "I was a member of the Thousand Sons, and now I am the Grand Master of the Dead Eye Society. I arrived here sixty-five years ago at the order of the Emperor and my father, waiting for you to appear today."

Callistarius took a deep, deep breath, then put everything behind him and asked a very simple question.

"How to prove it?" he asked. "How are you going to prove it--"

In front of him, Khayon reached out and took out a golden badge from his arms. No other gold in the world has such a pure color. Its surface is carved into the shape of a sky eagle, lying quietly in Khayon's hand.

As soon as it appeared, Calistarius' eyes were deeply attracted. He could not understand why a badge had such a strong attraction to him until he accidentally looked into the eyes of the eagle.

A flash of golden light, many images rushed into his mind, and Calistarius' soul instinctively flickered. He saw a huge, pure golden armor, gorgeous and majestic.

Then, it was the scene of it being thrown into the fire, a dark and huge hand holding a forging hammer continuously hammering various parts of the armor until it slowly deformed and was finally poured into many molds to form badges or sharp metal.

Calistarius instinctively gasped, trying to regain his composure, completely forgetting that he was now a soul.

"I think this should be enough." Khayon solemnly took back the badge and said so.

He gestured again, indicating Calistarius to follow him, and immediately turned around and started walking. In the darkness around him, spots of light gradually appeared. They were not the power of psychic energy, but the lighting devices pre-installed in it.

Calistarius wanted to walk, but his soul body rushed to catch up with Khayon and flew around in this rough cave. He couldn't help but feel a little annoyed - this was certainly not the first time his soul left his body, but it was the first time to go so far.

The restraint of the body on the soul has been weakened to a dispensable range, so it takes time to learn to control the soul body and make it move calmly as before.

But where does he have the time now?

However, Khayon didn't seem to care about his predicament at the moment, and comforted him: "Don't worry, it's not a big deal for the soul and the body to be separated like this."

"As long as the body is not destroyed, you can go back and recover at any time. At most, you will just have to lie in bed for a while. Calm down, and then carefully experience the freedom of your soul at this moment. This is a rare experience."

"What do you want to do?" Calistarius asked.

"Help you." Khayon turned his head slightly, and there seemed to be a smile on his face.

"What else, young man? What do you think I want to do? I have spent sixty-five years on this asteroid, separated from my brothers by the stars. All I have done is to help you today."

Without waiting for Callistarius to answer, he continued speaking on his own. The boots hit the stone ground, and the sound of orderly water droplets came from the depths of the grotto, which seemed quiet, distant, and mysterious.

"Of course, this is not the moment of destiny that the prophets said. Remember my next words, Callistarius, these are words of blood and tears."

"Any prediction is essentially just a one-sided description of the future. Some people believe in it and think that things will develop in that direction no matter what for the rest of their lives. They are stupid, but also sad, because the future can be completely changed. ”

"I am trying to change the future now. I want to help you find your father, young Callistarius. This matter is very difficult, but what great thing in history has not been like this? Because of it Difficulties have the meaning of being overcome and defeated.”

As he rambled on about these words, Callistarius's heart calmed down little by little, and finally he was even in the mood to make a little joke with him.

"Have you been alone for too long, that's why you're so talkative?"

Kayon stopped, looking a little surprised. He turned around, shook his head, and a blue light suddenly lit up in his hand.

"No," Callistarius heard him say. "I'm just trying to distract you."

The next second, the ground trembled, and an extremely complex magic circle lit up from under Callistarius' feet.

"Goodbye, cousin," Iskandar Khayon said seriously. "Good luck."

The light went out, and Callistarius disappeared without a trace.

Kayon walked over silently, knelt down on one knee, wiped away the magic circle, and then gently tapped the ground. The stone suddenly cracked, revealing a giant axe. With white bones as the handle and flesh and blood as the front, it looks extremely ominous.

Kayon slowly exhaled a breath, frowned, held the ax with both hands, slowly picked it up, turned around slowly, and walked towards the other end of the grotto. A few minutes later, he handed the ax to a one-armed giant.

"Thank you." Kayon said respectfully. "Without it, I'm afraid it would be difficult for us to reversely locate where Sanguinius is at this moment."

"It takes a little effort," said the one-armed giant.

There seemed to be a smile on his trembling face.