37 Mourning Funeral (II)

You'd better remain calm until the storm arrives.

Karyl agreed with that statement.

In fact, he completely agreed.

To translate: Before he actually went to the battlefield with the Eighth Legion, he still had to review official documents every day.

Yes, Karyl doesn't reject the idea, but don't assume it's something enjoyable. No rational person would enjoy work that requires a lot of mental and physical exertion.

However, today was a little different. His tedious grading time was being interrupted by another person, and Karyl welcomed his arrival.

"I've been having a lot of dreams lately," Van Cleef said.

The company commander wasn't wearing his armor; he was sitting in the office Karyl had assigned him, dressed in training clothes, his posture stiff and his expression serious.

Karyl looked up at him for a moment, then lowered her head again. "How long has it been since you had a proper rest?"

A flicker of tension crossed Van Cleef's pale face. "Seventeen days."

"So, I'm guessing the dream started seventeen days ago, is that right?"

"Yes, instructor," the company commander of the Eighth Legion replied quickly.

Karyl put down his pen and sighed.

"Before you arrived, Xianni and your adjutant, Mollez, came to see me. They reported something about their company commander's demands over the past seventeen days."

The company commander frowned sternly. "I have to, instructor."

"So, Van Cleef," Karyl asked patiently, raising his right hand in a gesture, "You have to let me know what you've been dreaming about."

Van Cleef pursed his lips tightly, and his face became even paler, like faded old clothes.

"Some fragments," he answered in a very soft voice. "Some flickering fragments. I don't know if they are memories, because I can only see fragmented images."

"I saw myself working in a mine shaft, with a group of people who were so thin they looked grotesque. I also saw shops covered with human limbs, a deep purple sky cut by neon lights, and some dead people lying in front of me. I think I saw Nostramo, Instructor. I hope I saw Nostramo and not some illusion woven from something else."

"So you had your brothers tie you up and keep you as a prisoner for seventeen days?"

"I have no other choice."

Karyl nodded calmly to him. "The images you saw were indeed from Nostramo."

Van Cleef was taken aback, but Karyl continued.

"To be precise, what you saw was a flashback of a memory," said the instructor from the Eighth Legion. "And this memory likely originated from me."

". Psionic?"

"Not necessarily." Karyl frowned, glancing at the company commander. "It could be some deeper, mystical connection—I'm not very good at these things. All I can say is, you're fine now, Van Cleef."

Van Cleef opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, then he slowly nodded. "I understand, Instructor. So, I'm fully recovered?"

"Yes, you are fully recovered," Karyl said. "But I'm not sure if anything else might happen, so if you feel anything is wrong, come see me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

"This is not an order, Van Cleef."

"I will take this as an order." The company commander stood up, nodded to their instructors, and then left.

Time has passed, and everyone in the Eighth Legion now knows how to deal with their instructors' demands. Karyl feels helpless about this, but he can't really ask everyone to abandon their own principles.

He had no choice but to let nature take its course.

The door closed as Van Cleef left, the clanging of metal sounding pleasant, and its tight shut would probably make others feel comfortable—some people in red robes who smelled of engine oil.

The Adeptus Mechanicus — Karyl knew very little about them, but that didn't prevent him from having a basic impression of them.

Judging from their recent contacts and the documents they sent, Karyl has come to regard them as an independent organization with a high degree of autonomy within the Imperium. In fact, considering their importance to the Imperial Army, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call them a state within a state.

Logically, they should be viewed with suspicion, but the problem is that they seem to regard the Emperor, the rulers of the Imperium of Man, as messengers of the gods in their doctrine. This is quite interesting.

Omnissiah. That's what they call the Emperor.

+You have so many incarnations.+

It sounds like you're being sarcastic.

+There's no such thing as tone in psychic communications+

After exchanging a few words with a friend on the other side of the galaxy, Karyl opened his eyes. The Emperor, or rather, Neos, was quite helpless at that moment.

Upon learning of Angron's existence, he immediately dispatched his fleet to Nuceria, but too many things happened en route. By the time he arrived in Nuceria via warp, his sons had already left for Nostramo.

+They seem to think you're dead, Karyl.+

+My appearance back then did conform to the common understanding of death, but why have you been calling me so often via psychic communication lately? Is it because I hung up on you too often before?+

No, I just want to confirm through communication whether it's still too late for me.

Karyl frowned.

+Is there still time?+

+There was time to witness the living mourning the living. Believe me, even for me, this was a rare sight.+

The instructors of the Eighth Legion took a deep breath.

If only you could show this humorous and humane side of yourself to others more often, the Emperor Majesty, I believe your sons, your friends, your Adeptus Custodes —everyone—would be very grateful to you.

I was just saying something, you don't have to react like that.

Is that so?

The person on the other side of the galaxy remained silent for a moment.

Anyway, I'll be there soon. I hope the nails in Angron can still be removed.

He might not be willing.

I will respect his decision, but I still need to give it a try.

Karyl shook his head and said nothing more. He had no right to persuade the Emperor when it came to stubbornness. He put down his pen, glanced at the remaining number of documents, and, after confirming that he could finish them before 3:30 that night, left his office.

He needs to tell Konrad Curze Curze something.

A rather awkward situation.

--

"You mean, they thought you were dead?"

Konrad Curze Curze stared wide-eyed as the stale winds of Nostramo whipped his clothes around. The Lord of the Eighth Legion crouched atop his eleventh Gargoyle, his face filled with astonishment.

Didn't you think I was dead too?

"That's different!" Konrad Curze Curze turned his head. "I saw your skeleton with my own eyes. Who would think you were alive in that situation?"

Karyl chuckled softly but said nothing. He lowered his head and observed Nostramo's current state from the edge of the building.

The purification process is in its final stages. While the air quality remains poor, it's no longer so foul as to endanger people's health. However, the unfortunate aspect is that even the Adeptus Mechanicus are powerless against Nostramo's eternal night.

--Besides, even if they had a way, they wouldn't do it; they're not crazy. The Nostramo people have long evolved eyes adapted to the night, and letting the sun out under these circumstances would have only one consequence.

"What are you laughing at?" Konrad Curze Curze turned around, a fleeting hint of displeasure on his face.

"I laughed because you just told a good joke, is there a problem, Konrad Curze?"

"Was that a joke?"

Isn't that right?

Karyl countered with a question, easily regaining control of the conversation.

"And what are you doing here on duty again, coming down to the ground to observe? The Second Company on duty today will be very unhappy if they see this. You don't want their company commander to come to me again and complain about your 'distrust,' do you?"

"."

The Night Haunter pursed its lips in annoyance and hissed in protest, "Can't I even come back to see my home planet?"

"Sure, but have you finished your work for today?"

"I've finished two-thirds of it!"

"So you're planning to stay up all night to finish the remaining third, right?"

"."

"Answer my question, Konrad Curze."

"Yes."

"That's not good, but so am I." Karyl smiled slightly, the smile reaching its peak as Night Haunter stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

"You—forget it."

Night Haunter sighed, and Konrad Curze Curze took his place. "Anyway, are they almost here?"

"I guess so."

Don't you know?

"Of course I don't know."

"But didn't you drift back from Nuceria?" Konrad Curze Curze asked casually. "Can't you calculate how long it would take them to reach Nostramo without using Warp travel?"

Karyl slowly narrowed his eyes, and after a few seconds, he grinned.

"Your sense of humor is just as terrible as mine, Konrad Curze," he said sincerely. "That joke was quite good; just remember not to tell it to anyone else."

You haven't answered my question yet.

"Yes—they're almost here. Either today, tomorrow, or the day after. Why are you so enthusiastic about this?"

Konrad Curze Curze did not answer the question.

He certainly wouldn't tell Karyl Lohars the reason.

There's another chapter with 3k words.