35. The Twentieth Surgery

The corridors of the Nightfall were quiet, like any cemetery, possessing a tranquil atmosphere. You couldn't hear loud conversations or anything else, and laughter was a rare sight here.

A funeral was supposed to be held here—but it wasn't.

There was no funeral.

The dead had long been buried, and the Night Lords watched as their remains vanished into nothingness in the embrace of the black flames.

They weren't sad, but for some reason, they felt this wouldn't be the last time they saw their brother. Their premonition was correct, but it hadn't yet been proven true.

Xianni from Terra walked toward an office in his brand-new uniform, his expression serious, but it was just his usual thoughtful look.

Everyone has different habits, and the actions they take when thinking are one of them. Some people like to tap on the table or bury their heads in thought when they are thinking.

As for Xianni, he would put on a very serious expression so that everyone would know he was thinking—in other words, it meant "don't bother me."

Of course, not everyone was willing to give him a chance to think things through; Richter, for one, was certainly not.

The sword master of the Eighth Company walked from the other side of the corridor carrying a thick stack of documents. This encounter should have been quite dramatic, after all, it was rare to see these two people together outside the training ground.

But Richter seemed unwilling to continue this dramatic exchange; he bluntly shattered Xianni's reverie with a single sentence and a serious expression.

"You actually look like you're thinking."

"."

Xianni silently raised his head and expressed his emotions with a traditional Ancient Terra gesture—in response, Richter merely chuckled faintly, still clutching the documents, his expression calm, as if he had not just mocked his brother.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "And dressed so formally, that's rare. In my memory, you're mostly in training clothes."

"I'm going to the instructor's office." Xianni glanced at Richter with little interest; stars were flashing past the porthole.

"He has a mission for us, and my company commander is currently with the Primarch. What's the situation with those documents you have, Richter? Are you also working as Servitor?"

Richter Nair took a deep breath.

"That's a good rebuttal, Xianni, but my wishes are different from yours. These documents also come from the instructor; he and the Primarch seem to have a new vision for us, and these—"

Richter slightly raised his arm to let the document obscure his face. "--This is the specific scenario we've envisioned."

"So, this is a reform?"

"It's normal for the Primarch to have other demands of us, as for the term 'reform,' I'm not sure." Richter shook his head and walked away.

His last words to Xianni were an invitation. "See you at training tonight."

Xianni decided to take this as a provocation, intending to face Richter with rage, just as he had faced those things on the Harkosus I —and with that thought, his expression grew even darker.

Six minutes later, he arrived at Karyl Lohars' office.

The door was wide open, as if it had been prepared knowing he was coming. Xianni stepped inside, his leather boots deliberately striking the metal floor with a dull thud as a warning.

Karyl Lohars sat as always behind the gloomy iron table, writing with a quill pen, a chair suited to Astartes' size placed opposite him. He heard the reminder, but did not look up, only speaking calmly.

"Sit down, Xianni, you came quickly."

"But not fast enough." Xianni sat down, his back ramrod straight, but his tone was surprisingly light. "What number am I, instructor?"

"The second one."

"So, that bastard was the first one again?"

"."

Karyl finally raised his head, his expression somewhat complicated. "I remember you two had a pretty good relationship, Xianni. Why do you address Richter that way?"

"Because of some historical reasons," Xianni said seriously—incidentally, he wasn't thinking at the moment.

"You don't know, Instructor, but Richter Nair is extremely arrogant most of the time. I mean, he's an arrogant bastard who thinks he's above everyone else."

"I don't see where his arrogance lies."

"Of course you wouldn't notice," Xianni scoffed. "He was behaving quite politely in front of you."

Karyl didn't answer. He lowered his head again, trying to hide his expression from Xianni. He continued writing, and after a dozen seconds, he pulled out the paper and handed it to Xianni.

"Take a look," Karyl said. "At least I hope you can read this overview here—it will help you understand what comes next, Xianni."

What happened next?

Xianni felt a subtle unease about those words. He reached out and took the hard-shell document, finding it quite uncomfortable to hold, which was exactly what those who created it intended.

They deliberately made the paper hard, thick, and rough so that they could sell it for a higher price— the Imperium usually priced paper by weight, and few of the families responsible for manufacturing it were unmoved by the profit.

But that wasn't what Xianni should be thinking about right now. He started reading, and the first line he saw puzzled him.

"Specific discussions regarding future conscription matters."

Xianni quickly looked up at Karyl— "Instructor, are we about to begin conscription?"

"Of course," Karyl said. "But not now, at least until we return to Nostramo. Let's see what happens then, Xianni."

Xianni did as instructed, and a few minutes later, when he looked up again, his expression had become quite strange. "The twentieth surgery...?"

Karyl nodded calmly.

"Yes, the twentieth procedure, but it actually has little to do with surgery; it's just a ritual. However, to avoid suspicion, we'll announce it as the twentieth procedure—of course, we usually don't mention it."

He gestured thoughtfully to Xianni, his eyes conveying a rather meaningful look. "Unless someone asks about it."

"So we say it's the twentieth surgery?"

"No, we won't mention it," Karyl said. "Because the twentieth surgery simply doesn't exist unless someone asks about it."

Xianni nodded with a complicated expression, then lowered his head to continue reading.

"Please note that the twentieth surgery itself does not have any substantial effect or change on the patient's body. It is a ritual, also known as a trial."

"The twentieth surgery should be performed before any modifications begin, not after the nineteenth surgery. When the twentieth surgery begins, the patient will enter a sleep-like state, but they will not actually be asleep."

"They may dream, they may sleepwalk, and they may even enter a state of abnormal rage. All of this is normal and one of the possible side effects of the twentieth surgery."

"The duration of the surgery is currently uncertain, but only those who pass the surgery can truly become Midnight Blade's reserves and undergo subsequent modification surgeries."

Xianni put down the document and let out a long sigh, "Instructor."

"Um?"

"May I ask what the twentieth surgery is?" Xianni asked seriously. "I know these things should be kept secret, and no details should be revealed, but... a trial? I don't understand, Instructor."

"It's just a rather unconventional selection method," Karyl replied softly.

He stood up and slowly walked to the office window.

The eight flags still fluttered on the wall, the air as cold as ever. Outside the porthole, the stars twinkled, Karyl calmly gazed at them through the glass, seeing his own Shadow and the figure of Xianni waiting in the glass.

He continued his narration.

"Xianni, you've witnessed what happened on the Harkosus I, you've heard Konrad Curze Curze make the oath he swore in the face of those things, and you yourself have made the same oath."

He turned his head, revealing a half-smile that was neither a smile nor a frown on Xianni face. The latter felt a chill run down his spine and nodded heavily.

"Therefore, you are well aware of the kinds of enemies we may face in the future, but those potential reserves are different."

He turned completely around, leaned against the wall, and remained calm.

"They may be highly skilled and determined, and will be tempered into truly outstanding warriors in the years to come—but we have more to face than just war, Xianni."

"Those things cannot be resisted by willpower alone; therefore, they also need to make an oath. A ritual, a trial, a blood oath. They will know what they face, and they will know their possible fate. And we only need those who see everything clearly yet are still willing to accept it. We need... hatred."

Xianni nodded silently. His instructor, dressed in a thin uniform, cast Shadow that stretched across the ground in the soft light. Xianni looked at his Shadow, and a subtle feeling swept over him, like a low sigh or an encouraging gaze.

"We are still here," the dead said in a low voice. "And we will live on forever, until hatred ends."

Xianni stood up and said hoarsely, "Yes, instructor, we need hatred."

He turned and left—until Karyl, both amused and exasperated, asked, "Xianni, now that you're leaving, what will happen to all these documents from the First Company?"

"."

Xianni from Terra walked back from the corridor with a blank expression, carrying a pile of documents with hurried footsteps.

One more chapter.