Warhammer: Opening is a Crisis of Doom

The top of the hive shuddered in the howling winds of the troposphere.

The whole majestic building screamed in a dying whine.

The shutters at the top of the Hive City are all carefully designed. Before they are eroded by the God of Plague, the wind blowing through these buildings will be shunted by these shutters, and wonderful music will be heard.

Today, the building structure has been corroded with many dilapidated holes, wrapped in wriggling flesh and mycelia, emitting a foul stench.

The switches that controlled the shutters were nailed to the walls of the steeple's flanks, hanging in the wind, long ago tattered.

Phikris and others walked on these decaying buildings with the help of the balance system of the armor.

Small changes in the air flow and the structure of the underlying nest will make the place wobble.

The screeching of dying machinery and the annoying screeching of metal came through the strong wind.

The floor doesn't feel real, and every time a strong wind blows, the floor vibrates violently.

Only the battlefield demigods who have incorporated the latest technology of the empire can easily walk in such a harsh environment, as if walking on flat ground.

The suspended armed skull is equipped with a rotating laser cannon, which turns on a high-precision detection device.

They flew in front of the original cast warriors, carried out pathfinding missions, collected information for Phikris and others, and controlled the battlefield situation.

Phikris observed the enemy's situation through the tactical panel of his helmet.

The Death Guard will sneak in from the squirming flesh or the lightless darkness.

In previous battles, old-style battle-brothers often suffered heavy casualties from their despicable sneak attacks.

But now, the Primordial Warriors have already known their positions with a more advanced detection system.

The enemy has already been defeated by them before they can attack.

Plague drones hovered among the ruined buildings, trying to attack the advancing primordial warriors with plague stingers.

Phikris and the others blasted the drones with bombs and plasma jets.

Thin liquid flowed from the surface of the pitted metal flesh, and the demon imprisoned inside screamed in pain.

Nothing could stop Phikris and his party, they entered the building where the subspace creation was placed from the crumbling high bridge.

"There are enemies inside," said a Primaris warrior.

Phikris also received the battlefield data, and the three-dimensional map appeared in the tactical visor of the helmet.

There are solid red dots all over the building, which is a mark representing the enemy.

Accompanied by a low roar, the shambling dead walked out of the darkness.

Wearing tattered Chinese clothes, his mouth let out a weird laugh, and his eyes showed hopeless helplessness and pain.

"Plague zombies." Phikris spat.

The think tanks stepped forward to clear the power of the subspace and establish an anti-subspace force field.

Neither plague nor disease can create zombies, let alone resurrect the dead.

This is something that the law of reality does not allow.

Only the power of the Warp can do this.

Without the Warp, these plague walkers would have no way of moving.

After entering the force field built by the think tanks, the action ability of the plague zombies was infinitely weakened.

Just like a computer with a bad network, the web page opens very slowly.

These weakened plague zombies did not pose any threat to Phikris and others.

Weak, rotting hands and makeshift weapons are useless against the latest developments in power armor.

They tried to gnaw at the limbs of Imperial warriors, but instead chipped rotting teeth into the armor.

They were cleaned up efficiently, ignited by the chemical flames ejected from the incineration injectors carried by Primaris warriors, and became moving torches, easily blown to pieces by explosive bombs

Phikris and others drove straight in, and the biggest threat was the demonic vehicles that imprisoned demons.

After traveling to the deepest part of the building, they encountered the death guard again, and a fierce battle broke out.

Those traitors built fortifications, guarding a hall.

There is Phikris' ultimate goal.

Exuding palpitating psychic energy fluctuations, making the psychic user feel unparalleled depression.

The Death Guard's resistance was tenacious.

Relying on the last fortifications and demonic vehicles, they stopped the original cast warriors from advancing.

Virus refiners continuously release various suffocating poisonous mist and plague spores.

Primaris warriors are armored enough to withstand these vectors of the plague.

But the constantly rotating poisonous fog made their aiming accuracy drop a lot.

There are also those death guards who have been blessed by the devil, and they have also shown strong combat effectiveness.

Among them is a champion of the Death Guard, who has received more blessings and is more powerful.

The Death Guard champion eventually died at the hands of Phikris.

Got blown in the head with a single shot from his bolter.

Facing the attack of the Primaris warriors, the Death Guard suffered heavy casualties.

Just when everyone thought they were about to win.

The strange bell rang, stirring up the poisonous mist, causing it to keep rolling.

An extremely fat death kneller came out of the darkness, and the heavy body made the floor creak.

A small bronze bell covered with eerie markings and eyes hung above his head from a huge black pointed horn.

Along with shaking, the bell tongue struck the clock wall.

A bell of sadness and despair rolled over the battlefield.

It shook the spirit of the Death Guard and weakened the Primaris warriors.

The sound itself is highly poisonous to the soul, and the soul will be polluted by these sounds.

Pheklis felt the pain.

He heard dark promises in the chimes.

"Embracing my pain will end all future pain."

Dark thoughts filled Pheklis's mind, pulling him away from the fight.

He was tormented by visions of his own death.

Powerful, like a demigod's original cast body, it will eventually become a trembling and weak figure under the influence of disease and years.

He will die left unattended due to old age, or tortured by his enemies.

Nobody is going to come to save him like he did to save Gene-Father.

All that awaited him was the evil howling of the Warp.

"All living beings are mortal, but I don't want to die." Dark thoughts grew in Phikris' mind, quickly took root and grew stronger.

As the bell rang, so did the voice of the messenger of death knell.

"This is the relief of suffering, there will be joy in the pain, allegiance to the father of Nurgle, never have to fear the doomed death, become eternal, become the carrier of life, join the never-ending dance, enjoy it .”

The strange and profane voice reaches everyone's ears, tempting their dark side.

Believe in the great Nurgle and get rid of the suffering in the world.

"The Emperor will eventually bring every soul into the kingdom he created. Death is not the end, but the beginning of another journey." A think tank raised his scepter and said loudly: "Don't listen to those vicious language, that's just a poison of the Warp."

The scepter and the crystal sigil of his protective helmet blazed fiercely.

"Captain Commander," the Librarian yelled, awakening Phikris from his visions of death.

Phikris understood what the other party was thinking.

He activated the power sword in his hand, and a flash appeared beside the messenger of death knell.

The power sword in his hand pierced the opponent's chest, and the gauntlet slammed into the opponent's head.

Death Guards are able to take more damage than other Traitors.

Phikris knew that he had to deal enough overflow damage to the opponent in order to kill him.

Deathstroke is a terrifying existence.

The body swells violently from unnatural plagues and corrupted forces.

The cracked armor can barely contain its huge body.

Many sickly horns sprouted from the back.

Those horns are part of his body.

A dirty tunic hung over his armor, yellowed by the smoke from the censer at his waist.

The death knell messenger's head was hit hard once, and his chest was crushed by the power field, but he was still able to move.

Bloated, rotting hands shook a small clock.

The sound wave hit Phekris so badly that the psionic damper crackled and burned out.

Warm blood flowed from the ears.

"Go to hell." Phikris yelled, getting rid of the opponent's influence, and the power sword in his hand slammed across the opponent's rotting body. Amidst the crackling sound, foul-smelling smoke floated out of the wound.

With a final growl, the traitor tried to shake the little clock again.

Phikris let go of the hilt of his sword and punched the opponent's head with a fist.

Phikris, who has been upgraded twice, has terrifying power, and he dented the opponent's helmet with just a few punches.

Deathstroke fell.

The bell disappeared.

Many Primordial Warriors recovered and launched an attack again.

The remaining Death Guard fell.

Pushing open the door of the room, Phekris saw the warp device that Mortarion had placed in this world.

All the furnishings in the room were removed, leaving only the empty room.

The walls are cracked.

The precious paintings inlaid have also been destroyed, and even the frescoes have been smashed to pieces, leaving only plaster crunching underfoot.

The pedestals of the removed statues remained in the room, and seven strange stills were arranged in a circle at precise intervals.

Liquids bubbled and boiled in stills, releasing cold fumes laden with pathogens.

Seven stills surround a gigantic flask of brass glass and some unknown evil material.

The lower half of the giant flask is a huge hemisphere filled with swirling black particles.

If you look closely, you can see that it is a group of crazy flies.

In the upper half of the flask is a complex mechanism of rusted bronze and brass.

There are seven broken gauges installed in the machine, and each gauge is divided into seven divisions.

The appearance of the machine is primitive, as if from a backward world of steam and clockwork-driven machinery.

At the heart of the mechanism is an intricate fluid circuit encased in a shimmering shard that looks like stone.

The shape of that fragment is irregular, it seems to be formed naturally, at least not deliberately created.

"According to the Eldar, it is a lost artifact of theirs, possessing extraordinary power in the warp," said one Librarian. "Mortarion took it and harnessed its power."

"Now, let's destroy it." Phikris took out the bomb with the power of warp annihilation.

Humanity once possessed some terrible knowledge in the Golden Age.

That knowledge can create weapons that erase souls or imprints in the high heavens.

Later, these technologies were lost, and some were sealed up.

These techniques are now being applied again by Guilliman.

After installing the bomb, Fickris and others turned and left, and after reaching a suitable distance, they detonated the bomb.

Accompanied by a subspace scream, the originally suppressed spiritual energy dissipated.

The plague corpses that were still active were like electrical appliances that were suddenly disconnected, and they all fell down.

The fog and poisonous clouds that shrouded the sky also quickly subsided, revealing a clear and cloudless sky.

Phikris watched as the Imperial forces smashed the enemy's defenses and made their way into the Hive.

Another overall victory.

Pheklis believed that Ventris would also complete his task.

He couldn't think of any force that could stop the imperial army he led.

"Let's go, continue to the next battlefield, we have to push Mortarion to Ix." Phikris walked to the gunboat docked not far away, and said to many Primaris warriors in the communication.

"For Guilliman."

"For Guilliman."

so they shouted.

Many people feel that time travel is a very happy thing.

Be able to start a different life in another universe, so that you can start over.

It's wrong to think that way.

If you can't live well in the original universe, then why should you live well in another universe? ?

The same suffering exists in different worlds.

People can only change themselves and seek better living conditions in a harsh environment.

No matter how many times the game is restarted, some level BOOS are so tortured.

Either beat it or stop there.

The same is true for people. Only by overcoming the weaknesses and shortcomings in the heart can we pass to the next level.

Qiuchen used the voice pen to record his feelings.

He walks on the road across different universes.

Unlike the first time travel, he is sober at this moment.

At that time, he was in a daze and didn't know what was going on.

According to the empire, it is like some unlucky guy who crashed in the ocean, was carried by the ocean currents, and finally reached another world.

Qiu Chen acted together with those exploration members of the empire, walking on those seemingly ancient roads.

These roads, like the tunnels built by the empire, have the ability to travel through different universes.

Qiuchen learned from the chat that these roads were built by those ancient races.

Don't ask how old it is. Compared with the years experienced by those ancient races, the evolutionary history of human beings is only a fraction.

In the ever-changing time and space, even death will wither.

Qiu Chen couldn't describe the excitement and hesitation in his heart.

He can feel that he is in a very great era.

But relying on his short-sightedness, it is difficult to see the whole face of this era.

After recording his diary for today, Qiuchen poked his head out from the observation window of the vehicle.

The scene outside was extremely strange, and those terrible nightmares born in dreams appeared on both sides of the road.

Seeing those nightmares turned into entities, Qiu Chen felt a little confused.

Is it really the nightmares of humans that create those horrific images.

It was these horrible creatures who intruded into the dreamland of humans and created those nightmares.

Qiu Chen couldn't think of an answer.

This question involves profound knowledge.

Wait until human beings' research on the subspace reaches an extremely high level, and then we will get the answer.

Qiu Chen tried hard not to pay attention to those weird scenes.

Keep your eyes on the road.

They were crossing a high, steep and rocky ridge.

This ridge seems to rise to the clouds.

"Don't stay outside for a long time, those scenes are not friendly to us." The mechanical priest whose two-thirds of his flesh and blood had been replaced with mechanical prosthetics made a cold voice.

Qiu Chen shrugged and retracted his head.

The space inside the vehicle is quite spacious, and you can stretch your hands and feet when you rest.

The Mechanical Priest stood on those screens, manipulating the Machine Soul to make it follow the established route.

Many of the vehicles in the car have abandoned high-precision virtual projection technology in favor of more reliable mechanical technology.

Even the display is an old-fashioned display with wiring.

Qiu Chen couldn't remember the time.

According to vague memory, this troop has been on a long journey for more than three months.

Such a journey is exhausting.

Qiu Chen can only stay in the car all the time, and cannot go out at will.

The road has a special protection ability, staying away from the road is equal to a dead end.

Truth be told, such a journey is excruciating.

If the traverser's mind is a little weaker.

I'm afraid I will be driven crazy.

Traveling through the universe is no fun.

A mysterious big hand will not appear to throw the traverser from this universe to that universe.

They have to go from the deep area of ​​the subspace, along those ancient and almost forgotten roads, one step at a time.

"How long will it take us to reach our destination?" Qiu Chen asked.

"Time is meaningless in subspace." The mechanical priest said, "Don't think about it."

"Then how do we know how long we've been wandering here??" Qiu Chen said.

"There is no way to know. You may feel that three months have passed, but from the outside world, we may have just left." The mechanical priest said: "In the subspace, only the will is real, and everything else is illusory .”

Qiu Chen sighed and lay down on his resting place.

The journey was dull and tedious.

Qiu Chen knew very well that if this journey could really bring him back to the original universe.

Then what he witnessed is enough to make countless posterity lament the power of the empire.

It is also enough to make his descendants proud.

A powerful civilization at the cross-universe level successfully reached other universes for the first time before it emerged.

This historical moment is great.

Represents the pace of a civilization.

The first time you get Tinder, you get started.

The first step on the moon established the beginning of human exploration of the starry sky.

Arriving for the first time in other universes, laying the beginning of a great multi-Empire.

But these can't replace Qiuchen's attitude towards this journey.

Dry and boring.

Perhaps this is true of all great undertakings, and romance only belongs to the history books written by literati.

Great undertakings are dull to those who have experienced them.

The Glory of Macragge.

Guilliman stood at the bridge console, next to him was Sanguinius.

The sight of the two Primarchs standing side by side brought many warriors and Imperial chroniclers to tears.

This exciting moment heralds the great revival of the human empire.

Great characters who were lost in time are returning.

The battle for Planet Devon is over.

Humanity has achieved absolute victory.

The gods tried to stop Guilliman's madness, but they failed.

After the return of Sanguinius, their minions were defeated.

"They are excited for your return, Sanguinius, this is a great moment, the people of the empire have welcomed the return of an angel, which will make people very encouraged." Guilliman slid the Hologram, laughing, "No one is better than you, Sanguinius. Those bloody traitors will cry at your name, they will cry like a fart at your return, Victory is ours."

"All this is due to you, Guilliman, the great Regent of the Empire." Sanguinius said sincerely, watching the magnificent fleet in the starry sky from the position of the porthole.

Each of those huge celestial-class battleships is so amazing, they are mobile war worlds, and no force can destroy them.

And mortals armed to the teeth, and warriors created by the Emperor and optimized again by Guilliman.

On Planet Devon, Sanguinius had witnessed how powerful this army was.

Those demons were easily blocked, wiped out, and driven back to the subspace again.

"You are too humble, Sanguinius. Your return is of great significance, and the gods are weeping for it." Guilliman said with a smile: "I really want you to return to Terra with me, that way On the way, we can still exchange brotherhood. It’s just that the current situation does not allow us such a luxury, and I have a task for you, Sanguinius.”

"What kind of mission?" Sanguinius asked.

"Magnus has been working in the dark side of the empire, preparing his psychic empire. Your sons have already gone to try to stop his sinister plot. But I still hope you can go and take Magnus Bring it back. After all, a Primarch can only be captured by another Primarch."

"I am willing to share your worries, Lord Regent." Sanguinius said, "I will bring that traitor back."

"Don't be so polite, I'm still your brother, Sanguinius." Guilliman said, "We are equal."

"Someone has to take that position, Guilliman. At this stage, you are the best among us. The emperor is doomed to never stand up again and rule this country. But mankind still needs to continue to Go forward. Every king has its own ending moment, the old king should retire and the new king will be established." Sanguinius said: "Sometimes, we have to admit such things."

"Let's talk about this matter later, I will wait for your return in Terra, Sanguinius." Guilliman said, "I will leave the matter of Magnus to you, bring him back. It has always been my dream to bring those traitors back to Terra to stand trial."

"I will, Lord Regent, you will get what you want." Sanguinius bowed slightly, and then walked out.

Guilliman turned to look at the console, tapping his fingers on the metal tabletop.

The business of Magnus was left to Sanguinius.

Now, the big question is how to capture Angron.

"I need a conspirator." Guilliman thought of the demon prince Cherubel who was enslaved by him before, maybe this guy could help him.

That guy yearns for freedom.

It's a good chip.

Not only humans will betray, but demons will also betray.

Angron is a slave.

What Guilliman had to do was how to make the slave pick up a weapon and slash at his master like before.