Thirty-Day War (VIII)

"That's how it is," Angron said to the holographic projection.

The blue, ethereal Konrad Curze Curze nodded thoughtfully. He opened his mouth, and a series of busy sounds followed. His own features blurred, becoming like the surface of water rippling as if struck by a pebble.

Angron frowned, and after a full two minutes of waiting, the holographic image returned to normal.

"The signal interference is a bit severe," Konrad Curze Curze said. "Let's continue, bro. You said the Xenos on Harkosus II are researching how to transform humans?"

"Yes," Angron said, as he began to recall the extensive underground facilities and the people lying in the laboratories.

Those people were bound to the cold iron platform, their skin peeling away bit by bit, large chunks of blood scabs and foreign protrusions ravaging the remaining intact skin. Their human features were melting away.

The skull swelled, and eighteen eyes appeared on the forehead. The jaw split open, skin and flesh transformed into tentacles, and the teeth changed from being arranged horizontally to vertically. The entire transformation process was laid bare and extremely bloody for everyone who entered the facility.

Those who had just been modified were still able to maintain their sanity, while those who had completely lost their human form had even lost their consciousness. Even when cut by a blade, they remained unmoved.

He pondered, remaining silent for a moment, before realizing amidst the sobs of the tormented that he should continue his narration to Konrad Curze Curze —he looked up at the hologram, but his brother spoke first.

"Do they have this pattern on their lower jaws?" Curze asked, raising his right hand.

A piece of paper then appeared, with a simple pattern on it that looked like a flickering flame.

"No," Angron said. "I killed many, but I didn't see this pattern on any of them."

Curze nodded, looking thoughtful.

He sighed and said, "Now, here's the problem, brother. What happened to you on Harkosus II isn't unique; my legion and I encountered the same thing on Harkosus I. And that's the problem."

What's the problem?

"I can't explain the connection to you in a short time," Konrad Curze Curze said, his expression serious.

Even through the cold vacuum, Angron could sense the subtle changes in his brother— Konrad Curze Curze looked much more relaxed, but also... changed a lot.

"Then why did you bring it up?" the Nuceria asked, crossing his arms and deliberately using a blaming tone.

Kharn, standing beside him, was startled, as was Company Commander Baron Benson. But before they realized Angron was just joking, Konrad Curze Curze laughed.

"Yes." He smiled and nodded at Angron. "I have indeed changed a little, but I still can't explain it to you clearly right now."

Angron sighed; this time, he really wanted to complain. He opened his mouth: "Then why did you—"

"--Should we mention it?" Curze blinked. "Sorry, bro. But you asked first this time."

"."

Angron shook his head helplessly. "Did you learn to talk like that from Karyl?"

"Strictly speaking, he didn't teach me that. But since you mentioned him," Curze shrugged, making room for him.

Another person emerged from the hologram, calmly nodding to Angron in greeting.

Nuceria breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief, admitting that he felt a sense of reassurance upon seeing Karyl Lohars —a feeling that was certainly irrational and illogical.

But

Sometimes, reason and logic only backfire when faced with certain situations.

"Good day, Angron," Karyl said. "I know this isn't the right time for greetings, but given that we're still some distance from Harkosus III, how are you and your legion?"

The Nuceria grinned, reached out, and pulled his 8th Company Commander into the holographic scanner. "We're fine, Karyl. By the way, let me introduce you—oh, perhaps I don't need to."

Karyl raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Kharn." He nodded. "I'm glad to see you're safe and sound."

"Uh, Instructor Karyl. No, I mean, Lord Karyl, I—" Kharn stammered, stumbling over his words from the Primarch's restraints. "--I'm also glad to see you safe and sound."

He said he was happy, but he sounded as if he wished he were dead.

Angron laughed, released his grip, and let Kharn escape. He certainly didn't care about such a trivial matter, and neither did Karyl. The hologram smiled and shook its head, "Anyway, let's end the pleasantries here, Angron. You also received the Ultramarines' distress signal, didn't you?"

"Of course." Angron narrowed his eyes, his smile vanishing in an instant.

At this moment, he looked as majestic as a mountain peak in a storm, with a hidden anger flowing across his face.

"From the Macragge's Honour, but this message was sent three hours ago. The Firm Resolve didn't have time to replenish its Astropath; the efficiency of ship communications is simply too low."

Our Astropath haven't received any news either.

Karyl spread his hands. "Once is a coincidence, twice is not, Angron. Considering what happened on the Harkosus I, I would say Roboute is probably in great danger right now."

"Are you sure?" Angron asked, deep wrinkles already appearing between his brows, his hidden anger gradually moving from the shadows into the light.

If anything were to happen to Roboute Guilliman, Angron could swear to his fallen War Hounds that he would treat Harkosus II with far greater cruelty than he had shown to Harkosus III.

He won't just simply cleanse the planet; he'll utterly destroy it.

"I'm sure," Karyl said calmly.

He doesn't need lengthy speeches to convince people, nor does he need emotional build-up like a speaker; he only needs a glance or a short sentence.

"And this kind of danger is probably beyond what the Astartes, Chainsword, and Boltgun can handle."

Angron paused for a moment, deciding to pretend he hadn't caught on to the implication—the Nuceria deliberately countered, "So, Storm Eagle and tank cannons?"

"That won't work either."

"Don't tell me you're planning on orbital bombardment. Karyl, Roboute, and the Ultramarines are still on that damn planet."

Karyl stared at him, then shook his head. "You know what I'm talking about, Angron."

The Nuceria pursed his lips tightly, and when he spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

"This isn't your battle alone, Karyl Lohars. This is a war fought by three legions. You can't just leave us behind safe bunkers and lock us up in iron cages. That's not protection, that's deception. My legions have already torn apart the enemy, and our War Hounds have tasted that thing's blood. We Dreadnought of those so-called monsters. We will join this battle too."

Angron resolutely waved his right hand. "--We must participate."

"Calm down, Angron."

Karyl calmly shook his head.

"I never said I wanted to exclude you from the fight. If I had, Konrad Curze Curze would have come and pushed me out of the holographic scanner's range the moment I stepped in, and then all you'd hear would be him yelling at me from the side."

"Hey--!"

"Yes, that's it, Konrad Curze." Karyl smiled sideways. "But speak a little louder."

"."

Angron took a deep breath, saving himself from the awkward situation of his lips twitching. He could tell that Karyl and his brother were trying to liven things up, but he wasn't really keen on doing so right now.

"So, what do you mean?" the Nuceria asked seriously. "No, perhaps I should be more explicit—this time, what price are you prepared to pay?"

Karyl lowered his head and sighed.

"Good question," he said. "But I don't know the answer, so I can't answer you. I can only tell you one thing, Angron."

"What's up?"

"We will win," Karyl said calmly, as if stating a fact.

Update complete.