40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 93 91. Commitment (5k)

"He's in there, isn't he?"

"The original body is taking care of official business." Gage said without changing his face, while secretly sighing in his heart.

For no other reason than the lady who was questioning him didn't look good at the moment.

After hearing this extremely obvious and formulaic answer, the corners of Tarasha Euton's mouth curved downwards.

She held her cane, rubbed the U-shaped emblem on it with her thumb, and spoke again after half a minute.

During this period, she had changed into a more relaxed standing posture. It was obvious that he planned to fight Gage to the end, and the first chapter leader began to complain repeatedly in his heart.

It was almost dark, and he had to return to the station as soon as possible to catch up with the night training. Even as a chapter leader, he should not miss the weekly training without any reason.

"He hasn't come out of his office for four days," Guilliman's butler said with obvious sullenness. "Is there any official business that he needs to handle for four consecutive days without sleep?"

"This has happened before, ma'am," Gage said vaguely.

He shouldn't have stood here to answer Yudun's question. This should be done by the victorious troops, not him. But he was obviously unlucky and was caught by this woman at the exact moment he was about to leave the office building.

"Similar things happened three times in total, yes." Yudun said calmly. "But I remember the cause and effect every time, but this time I don't remember - or in other words, I don't know what happened that night at all."

We don't know either, ma'am. Gage cursed.

"Ma'am, I know what you want to ask, but I'm really not at liberty to say it."

"Well, since you can't answer me on this matter, I won't press it, Lord Gage. However, I have one more question. Why did he issue an order to abolish the current site of the University of Jericho? On its anniversary Not long after, this incident caused an uproar in Macragge."

"."

Gage fell silent, deciding to answer the woman's words with only a brief yes or no.

He didn't have the answers to these questions, and if he just said, "I don't know either," Ms. Euton obviously wouldn't believe him so easily.

However, this silence apparently had the opposite effect.

"Do you want to push me away like this, First Chapter Captain?"

She frowned, and her expression began to become more serious. "Compared to you, I'm just a human being, but that doesn't mean I'm a fool! Open the door and let me in. I want to talk to him."

"I would love to do it, ma'am, but I can't."

Gage sighed sincerely. "You know the Primarch's temper better than any of us, madam. He has been seeing no one these days, and no one can open that door unless he comes out on his own."

After a brief silence, Tarasha Euton nodded.

"So, where is the instructor?" she asked. "Where is he? I don't want to embarrass you or these diligent guards, but I must find out what happened to make Robert Guilliman like this."

".At the hospital where we are stationed, ma'am." Gage said.

——

Khalil closed the door slowly, sealing the sound of ticking instruments in the room. He moved his wrist silently, and a rare coldness spread on his face.

Van Cleef is still in the risk period and may really die at any time. The Ultramarines' medical officers have promised that they will do their best to keep Captain Van Cleef alive.

They didn't know the reason why the first company commander was injured, but everyone believed that the first company commander of the Eighth Legion could not be allowed to die from serious injuries on Macragge.

Many people have mentioned the Dreadnought, but these inquiries were either denied by Van Cleef himself when he was awake, or by subsequent orders from Robert Guilliman.

"There is no need to prepare Dreadnoughts for Captain Van Cleef." Robert Guilliman said in a deep voice in the voice message. "He'll be fixed."

Fix – not cure.

Such a cold adjective surprised many people, but not many people asked why. Most of the Ultramarines simply obeyed the orders issued by their Primarch.

As for what Khalil thinks

Now is not the time. he thinks.

Leaning against the wall of the corridor, he slowly exhaled a breath of air that smelled of disinfectant.

This paradoxical illusion almost gave him the urge to laugh - so many years later, even on a planet far away from the other end of the galaxy, the hospital still smelled like this.

Disinfectant water, doctors racing against death, crying children or parents, patients' cries, the race against time in the operating room

Cutting off his thoughts, he raised his head with an indifferent expression.

In a sense, he is also racing against time now. But it's not a race against time for Van Cleef's life, but for something else.

For a promise, a promise of revenge.

His promise on the transport ship.

Breathing slowly, Khalil slowed down his thoughts.

Half a minute later, his breathing and heartbeat began to stop completely, his pupils dilated, and he was as silent as if he was really dead. If there had been a medical officer from the Ultramarines in the corridor, he would have rushed over by now.

But they were not there. According to an order, they stayed away from here for the time being.

Now, there are only two people in this hospital. One of them was seriously injured and on the verge of death, while the other one seemed to be really dead.

The brilliance of the sun pierces the floor-to-ceiling windows, and time flows bit by bit. In the years before clocks were invented, human ancestors relied on the moving direction of the sun to judge time.

Working at sunrise and resting at sunset are not empty words.

There was no sound in the empty corridor of the hospital, not even the sound of breathing. There was only the faint sound of ticking in Van Cleef's room.

With his head hanging down, Khalil leaned against the wall motionless. A cold chill spread restrainedly from the half of his palms that were in contact with the wall. They hissed in a low voice, and the hidden anger passed away quietly in the field of vision that could not be captured by the naked eye.

They are waiting.

So does he.

wait for what?

Two and a half hours later, when it was completely dark and the incandescent lights on the corridor ceiling came on, Khalil gave his answer.

He clenched his right fist suddenly, and the cold light bloomed vaguely between his fingers.

The stagnant blood began to rush through the blood vessels again, the breathing was as violent as a roaring beast, the heartbeat revived, and the temperature that was so cold that it exceeded human cognition swept manically, filling the entire corridor in an instant.

After a thousandth of a second of recovery, Khalil opened the door to Van Cleef's room. Time no longer has meaning. Here, time has become something in his palm.

Van Cleef was originally lying flat on the bed, but now he sat up contrary to common sense.

His dissolved muscle tissue hung quietly from his bones, his internal organs clearly visible between the gaps between his rib plates.

These things required the medical officers to change his mattress every hour and a half, otherwise the semi-congealed flesh-and-blood mixture would completely soak into the medical mattress.

His eyes were open, blackened teeth loomed between his upper and lower jaws, and painful emotions boiled on his bloody face.

He wanted to scream, obviously. A blue color different from the psychic light appeared on the two hearts beating between his chest and abdomen.

——There is one thing you should not forget.

While on the transport ship, Van Cleef wanted to destroy his heart to completely destroy the 'trace', but he was later burned by invisible flames.

He wasn't a psyker, so where did the fire come from?

The answer is obvious.

Khalil released his right fist, letting the light fully bloom, as bright and astonishingly bright as a blooming flower of light. But the raw materials that allowed it to flourish, that propelled it into what it is today, were not well-intentioned.

In fact, they are the opposite of good, the pure opposite.

The next second, his consciousness returned to another world.

It's still darkness, and it's still the thick curtain that cuts off the mortal world and ghosts. But at this moment, a monster took a step back in disbelief behind the curtain.

It has two heads, and its body is somewhere between seductive blue and palpitating pink. The brilliant brilliance reflects on those gorgeous feathers, making it impossible to maintain sanity. Its body is covered with dense eyes, and they have dark blue pupils, which are blinking rapidly and uneasily at this moment.

The two heads of this monster have hard beaks wide open, and on the forked tongue, there is another big mouth full of fangs, which is as dizzying as the abyss in the abyss.

And the next second, all nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine eyes on its body reflected a hand burning with dark flames. The hand suddenly penetrated from the other side of the curtain and grabbed it. One of its necks.

"No! No!" its other head screamed. "I don't see this future!"

Khalil smiled—a grin, to be precise.

He rarely showed such a terrifying expression, and the cold murderous intent flowed in his eyes, almost turning into a sharp blade that cut the monster into pieces.

"Do you think I don't realize that you just ran away last time and didn't die?"

He asked, his tone as soft and relaxed as if he were chatting with someone.

"Do you think Van Cleef's willpower is really as weak as you imagined, and he is not even aware of what you are doing? He is the first company commander of the Eighth Legion, can you understand?"

Smiling, Khalil suddenly pulled his right hand back, the curtain wavered, and dark flames burned in his hand. The monster hit the curtain hard and could not make any progress.

It screamed in pain, and the area where it came into contact with Khalil's right hand had turned a grayish color, and the flames were burning so fast that they had even begun to spread towards other parts of its body.

What's even more terrifying is that the pain it feels at this moment is not just from the flames, the curtain itself is also tearing at its flesh and blood. They devour greedily, and the twisted nature of chaos is eager to try.

"I guess you can't, but I'd be happy to help. So, come on." Khalil whispered softly against the curtain. "Come out, Carlos the Fateweaver?"

"How did you know——?!" Its other head neighed in horror.

"Nine of your clerks told me."

Khalil chuckled and spoke cold words to it. "You obviously know something. At least you know the consequences of being remembered by me."

"However, it is a terrible conspiracy. First kill an innocent lady of important position, and then set off unrest in Macragge. The curtain itself can block your power. How long have you planned for this day? "

It screamed, unwilling to answer. But Khalil just smiled softly and clenched his right hand again.

The gray-white dust swished down as the monster named Fateweaver trembled, disappearing without a trace in the darkness behind the curtain.

Its wings trembled in pain, and every feather on its wings began to split and screamed in unison. Nine hundred eyes shattered, and another nine hundred eyes appeared again in a bloody state.

"I said——!" it screamed, spitting out broken words. "——But what you can't understand! What you can't understand, Khalil Lohars! Chaos has been abandoned by you!"

"Ah, so you know me. But I don't believe what you say, Fateweaver. After all, you are obviously proficient in conspiracy and deception."

"I'm not lying!" It screamed with blood and flesh, and the flames had ignited half of its body. "This head of mine can't lie!"

"It's strange that there is such a thing?"

"Yes, yes!"

"But, I still don't believe it."

Khalil chuckled, as contentedly as if he had made a perfect joke.

He stretched out his right hand, then pulled it back again - again and again, torturing it. Every impact caused the monster named Fateweaver to suffer immense pain. Its fear began to spread until it became a visible fear.

"Ask me questions! I implore you!" it screamed. "Great revenge, great hatred! I implore you to ask humble Carlos, and I will answer your every question!"

"Are you scared?" Khalil asked softly.

The monster, tortured by the curtain until its flesh and blood flew out everywhere, and burned to almost charcoal by the flames, shed transparent tears, wailed and nodded, and every part of its body was trembling. It is indeed afraid - it knows very well what the thing in human skin in front of it is and what it can do.

"What are you afraid of? Death? Do you think I can really kill you?" Khalil smiled, but this time, he slowly let go of his hand. The monster watched this scene in disbelief, his body His eyes began to blink rapidly again.

"Blink one more time and I'll turn you to ashes."

They stopped abruptly.

"very good."

With a chuckle, Khalil put his hands behind his back arrogantly.

"Now, you can go away, Fateweaver. But before that, I have something I hope you will remember." He spoke slowly.

He stared at the monster that could obviously run away but stood still without making any movement due to fear, and looked into each pair of its eyes.

The cold blue light burst out without reservation at this moment, making his voice a declaration that resounded through the curtain. He was extremely deep and had no similarities with humans.

Carlos looked tremblingly into the eyes burning with black rage and heard the last words.

"I remember you."

The monster in its eyes said this, growling lowly, showing its fangs, and began to smile ferociously.

"So I'm going to hunt, from here until the end of time. You're dead, do you understand?"

As the words fell, it shrieked and died.

——

Khalil opened his eyes.

Van Cleef fell heavily on his bed and began to breathe heavily. The instrument started to alarm, and both of his hearts turned to ashes at this moment, coagulating with the blood on the bed.

Khalil rushed to him quickly. Van Cleef opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but his instructor just stretched out his left hand, pressed it on his bloody chest, and shook his head at him.

"You can rest now, Van Cleef," Khalil said softly. "Get some sleep, and when you open your eyes again, you won't be in pain anymore."

The blue light flashed away, and the alarm sound of the instrument disappeared after a brief pause. The sound of powerful heartbeats came and went to replace it. The eyeballs of the company commander trembled gently and fell into sleep silently.

This time, there would be nothing waiting for him in his dreams.

"I'll fix you."

Khalil turned around and calmly and slowly exhaled a breath of bloody air. Blood dripped from his right hand to the ground.

What a shame. he thought ruefully. I was only a little short of killing it completely, but the curtain still didn't allow me to do it. Just like they ate the monster's flesh and blood, they treated me equally.

With a wry smile, he raised his right hand. The skeletal hand with only a little bit of flesh and blood left looked horrifying, but it quickly returned to its original state within tens of seconds.

Psychic power is such a convenient power.

Sighing, Khalil walked out of Van Cleef's room door again, closing it gently. Then he looked thoughtfully at the other end of the corridor, where there was a slight sound of footsteps.

Ah, the angry mother.

He shook his head and walked over helplessly. Three minutes later, he used his eyesight to see the owner of the footsteps in advance.

A thin lady with short gray hair, a face with hidden anger floating in the shadows. She used a cane but still walked very fast. At the end of the corridor, there are two victorious soldiers staring this way.

Khalil waved to them calmly. He knew what they could see. Immediately afterwards, he met the lady.

"Ms. Tarasha Euton," he greeted in a low voice.

The latter did not answer immediately. She was in a daze. Khalil did not urge her, but patiently and bitterly gave her time to respond.

He now knows very well how ordinary people will react when they see him, not to mention that he has just finished some not-so-peaceful exercise.

But this lady soon revealed her extraordinary qualities - with just two deep breaths, she suppressed all her emotions in her heart, and then she spoke with completely impeccable etiquette.

"Good evening, Instructor Khalil Lohars." She nodded gently. Although she looked up, she did not look humble.

After the brief greeting ended, she spoke directly, without any intention of being polite: "I am here for my master, Robert Guilliman."

"How can I help you?" Khalil asked softly.

"Yes." She pursed her lips. "I have a lot of questions for you."

"I"

Khalil sighed.

He smiled bitterly. "I will tell you as much as the circumstances warrant, Ms. Euton, I assure you."

I overestimated my coding speed. I went to have a meal and then came back and wrote another 3k.

To be honest, you didn’t notice this foreshadowing ()

Carlos had nine secretaries. (happy)