36 Blood of Calth (VIII, 85k)

004. M31, Calth, eastern urban area of Rude Province.

Shen had many contingency plans for death. Long ago, he had already thought about how to face death, as had all the Night Lords.

Other legions might tell their recruits how to earn honor and be courageous on the battlefield, but Night Lords will teach you how to experience death firsthand and how to recover from it.

Sooner or later, all recruits will learn this at some point in their training; they will go through a series of extremely brutal near-death experiences and eventually receive a piece of advice.

Actually, it's just one sentence.

"Death is only the beginning." -- First Company, Van Cleef.

Shen gripped his second sword, and the decomposition force field began to glow with blue light.

He swung his sword, cleaving through a group of Warp Daemon that rushed toward him. The thing called Samus became aware of their deaths and began to smile; in fact, its smile never stopped.

The Ultramarines and Night Lords kept firing at it, to no avail. It ignored all the bullets, from Boltgun to plasmas, and then its voice began to come through the instant messaging channel.

It was cold and shivering, like a homeless person who had died tragically on the street in the dead of winter, yet it was accompanied by a low, strange laugh. Shen could even smell the stench of fermenting entrails.

"Samus. This is the only name you will ever hear. Samus. It means the End and the Death. Samus, I am Samus. Samus surrounds you. Samus is the one beside you, Samus will chew your bones. Watch out! Samus is coming!"

"Shut up!" Ventanus shouted, rushing forward to try and bypass the harassing Daemon summoned by Samus and attack it directly.

Shen admired his courage, but was not optimistic about the outcome.

Half a minute later, Ventanus was thrown back in a sorry state, landing on top of a stone pillar before falling.

In those thirty seconds, he slashed Samus dozens of times. The finely crafted Power Sword, named "Never Forgive," was born in his hands into a dance that was completely different from Shen's, yet equally deadly.

But this was of no use to Samus. It was hacked to pieces, but it was still laughing. It didn't even kill Ventanus immediately, but simply waved him away. From that ugly face, Shen could read a kind of pleasure that represented enjoyment.

He knew what Samus was doing.

At that moment, the Daemon turned its head and looked at him.

"Ah, ah, ah"

It laughed merrily, its pupils burning like two exploding supernovae.

"You realized it, Night Lords? Yes, I'm enjoying this moment. It wasn't easy to come out; I had to weave a fitting ending for all the heroes, otherwise how could it match the destruction of this planet? Take that company commander, for example; I hoped he would die fighting. But you..."

It took two steps closer to Shen, its face pierced by a plasma beam, and thick, dark fog began to emanate from its feet. Daemon seeped from its blood.

Everyone was firing, whether they had been there since early morning or arrived later, but each shot only created more Daemon. So they had to spend more bullets on these things, or their formation would be broken.

So, what about Samus? It bled so much, is it alright?

It was perfectly fine, and in fact, it was even getting bigger.

This scene is almost tantamount to a cruel declaration: you cannot defeat Samus.

Really?

He silently gripped his sword.

Samus stopped in front of him, bent down, and began to examine him closely. Shen could see every detail of its face, from its Great Maw and the two horns on either side of its face, to its eyes that gleamed with a deep green death light—he could see everything, even his own reflection.

"Someone go and drag him away!" Shen also heard Ventanus shouting not far away, his voice muffled, probably because he was vomiting blood.

"And you?" Samus asked earnestly. "What kind of ending do you want, Night Lords? What kind of ending would be worthy of creatures like you?"

"First, we are human beings. Second, I hope that your skull, which will never come back to life, will be beside my body," Shen said.

Samus smiled and nodded.

Shen raised his sword—he knew it would be pointless, but he raised it anyway.

This sword is also a finely crafted Power Sword, a masterpiece by a renowned maker. It is called "Never Look Back," a somewhat strange name compared to "Never Forgive." Sevatar had asked about it many times, but Chen had never once given an explanation.

He didn't need to explain; only a fool like Sevatar wouldn't see it.

The answer is to Never Look Back.

Samus looked at him expectantly. Shen sensed this emotion, so he swung his sword, a bolt of lightning flashed through the air, and black blood splattered out. Samus pretended to be in pain, covered his face, and began to back away.

Every step it took backward trembled the earth; despite its wounded state, its maniacal laughter continued unabated. Shen tried to pursue it, but was trapped in place by the overflowing blood, from which Daemon were spawning, forcing him to divert his energy to deal with them.

Something strange began to burn within him, a sensation akin to ice spreading through his veins, quite consistent with the rumors circulating within Night Lords.

At the same time, the black mist rising from beneath Samus' feet continued to dissipate, surging like an ocean, obscuring the world, and causing the basic material structure that made up the ruins to begin to collapse.

This is not a sight that humans should endure, because humans cannot understand why stones can burn, maggots can hatch from the air, why it rains heavily from the sky and then stops immediately, and why something barks incessantly in the darkness.

Samus's Shadow flickered in the darkness, more terrifying than the darkness itself. Its eyes burned like those of a savage sacrifice in the moonlight of an ancient, barbaric era, where thousands were bound together and set ablaze. That was the light in its eyes; that was what it was.

It rushed toward the Ultramarines and Night Lords.

They fought back, retreated, and fought with incredible bravery, but Samus remained completely unmoved.

A bomb hit its eye, making it giggle. Plasma destroyed a muscle, and it scratched itself. Someone was hacking at it with Chainsword, so it casually reached out and grabbed the Ultramarines as if it were a rock.

It clenched its right claw, and bits of flesh and armor flew out from between its fingers. Half a second later, it released its grip, leaving behind a completely twisted corpse.

Ventanus stepped forward again, his tattered helmet now completely ruined, sitting ridiculously on his head, half his face exposed. Shen could clearly see the expression on his face, and he knew something was wrong.

Nered Ventanus has experienced so much today, each one more horrific than the last for anyone else, and he has probably encountered a thousand of them, including Samus. He should be going crazy, which is in line with the normal course of events.

But he didn't. Why?

The reason is simple: he was so angry that he forgot about it.

"You filthy beast!" the Ultramarines cursed as he charged toward Samus and began to swing his sword.

The Daemon covered its face with its hands, feigning the wail of a wounded beast, yet its voice betrayed an undisguised pleasure. Black blood dripped from between its fingers, a storm arose, and its Shadow began to twist into a deeper malice.

In the chill, Shen knew that it was making things unfold as it had foreshadowed. The Daemon named Samus said it would give Ventanus a death sentence in battle, and Shen didn't believe it would be so kind. But Samus actually collapsed the next second.

No one knew exactly how heavy it was, but the commotion sounded astonishing, like another piece of warship debris falling. It began to scream loudly, Ventanus roared as he chased after it, continuing to swing his sword at its head, and decapitating it in a matter of seconds.

With a sound like an explosion, black slime splattered Ventanus's body, and his muddy flesh and blood bloomed on the ground, while his foul-smelling entrails fell from the sky.

It's over?

No.

Shen finally broke free of his restraints, and the first thing he did was yell for retreat in the channel that was still filled with Samus's whispers. Ventanus heard his voice and looked confused, but Shen didn't have time to explain and was too busy yelling for everyone to retreat.

The Night Lords did as he was told, but his blue-armored cousins did not, and things began to get worse. Within three seconds of Samus's original body being decapitated, the Ultramarines it had killed stood up.

His eyes were burning, a deep green death light, like a supernova explosion.

"Samus is here."

The Daemon smiled inside the Ultramarines's corpse and began to chant its own whispers over the communications channel.

For the first time, its sound resonated so clearly in everyone's ears. It was no longer a whisper on the communication channel, no longer a sound that could be drowned out by the roar of bombs and chainsaws during battle. It truly echoed in everyone's ears.

Courage is meaningless now; this is not a battle that courage can resolve. Samus is not a battle; Samus far surpasses it.

"Samus. This is the only name you will ever hear. Samus. It means the End and the Death. Samus, I am Samus. Samus surrounds you. Samus is the one beside you, Samus will chew your bones. Watch out! Samus is coming!"

It pounced on an Ultramarines. Then a Night Lords, a third Ultramarines, and a fourth Night Lords. Carefully selected, meticulously designed, it turned the killing into a childlike game of selection.

Their flesh and blood swirled in the air, bones shattered, and life slipped away meaninglessly. Samus would occasionally give up resistance, allowing himself to be killed, and then rise from another corpse.

It did this for one purpose, Shen realized. He suddenly felt an intense hatred, which, a few seconds later, began to transform into something else. The blood of the Night Lords glittered on the ground, flowing towards his feet.

Samus finally started laughing again.

"Yes!" It excitedly opened its arms, relaxed its strong body, willingly allowed itself to be killed by an Ultramarines, and stood up from another corpse.

It is everywhere; it is darkness itself. The cruel proclamation that had appeared once before has returned, accompanied by the sounds of flesh and blood transforming, whispering in the darkness.

You cannot defeat Samus.

Unless it chooses to.

That's it!

The corpse screamed and stumbled toward Shen, its eyes burning.

He was once Ultramarines, but now he's just a shell, possessed by Daemon, used as a trigger to bring something to happen. Samus orchestrated it meticulously, having been doing so since his appearance. He did it very carefully, and so his orchestration was very successful.

Because Shen realized that it had never chosen Night Lords to possess a physical body, not even once.

Why? Is it because they are unwilling, or because they dare not?

"Yes, yes, yes!" Samus waved his arms excitedly. "That's it, Night Lords, that's it! Keep your hatred alive!"

Its voice grew closer and closer to Shen, and its appearance finally began to emerge. Black fur appeared from beneath the peeling skin, deep green eyes shone like death rays, its back was hunched, and its horns were so large they were almost ferocious.

It stood before Shen, emerging from an ancient nightmare, its scent like burning entrails.

"Hate me together!" it shouted gleefully. "I admire your courage, but I enjoy your hatred even more!"

"Go to hell--!" Shen roared, unable to bear it any longer.

This should have been a memorable moment, for he had briefly entered a completely new realm, and his sword began to burn with jet-black flames of fury. Though only a small wisp, it was enough to amplify Samus's laughter into a thunderous roar, turning it into a wail.

Next, his sword pierced Samus's skull. A flash of flame disappeared, and the Daemon roared in unprecedented agony, "Pain! It hurts so much! It really hurts!"

Its body began to melt, something that had never happened before. The darkness gradually faded, and Shen stood there like a hero, the flames on his sword slowly dying out.

Seconds later, only Samus's head remained in existence. A look of contentment crossed its face as it stared intently at it, its extraordinary observational skills once again coming into play.

"Ah."

Samus's head winked at him, and a voice suddenly came from inside his helmet.

"You realized it, Night Lords. But that's alright. Enjoy this heroic moment that belongs to you. We'll meet again. Like I said, I'll give you an ending worthy of you."

Shen stared into its eyes until it completely vanished, leaving no head behind, but Shen did not die.

Ventanus charged toward him.

"Shen!" he shouted urgently. "You've defeated it!"

Inside the helmet, Shen began to smile bitterly.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" The Ultramarines removed his helmet and finally gave a genuine smile. "Look at the mess you've made, huh?"

His tone made Shen feel like she sounded like a hero.

Yes, look at the good thing I've done.

Shen took off his helmet and sighed, "Do you know, Ventanus?"

"What?"

I've started to hate myself.

--

004. M31, Calth, 12 kilometers east of the army assembly point in Rude Province.

A deafening clap of thunder echoed from the sky. Sevatar squinted for a moment, then nodded, confirming that it was indeed thunder.

What's going on? You've been bombed for almost nine hours, and now it's going to start raining? Don't be like that, Calth. Learn from Nostramo; my hometown is the epitome of pettiness.

If Nostramo had been bombed for this long, it would have already begun to sink. It might have been destroyed, but it would have dragged everyone down with it.

Sevatar grinned; he couldn't help it. Angron Te glanced at him sideways without saying anything, but Sevatar could roughly guess what he meant.

"Don't rush, Aurelian's Sons." He shrugged. "Aren't we on our way into the city? You see, everything is going well. We've made contact with Chapter Master Marius Gage and my company commander, and we've received orders to advance into the city. You'll soon be able to take down a dozen Word Bearers."

"I don't like the quantifiers you're using," Angron replied coldly.

"Don't you have a sense of humor?" Sevatar asked incredulously. "I thought it was a good joke!"

During the next forty-one minutes of forced march, Angron Tey ignored him even once.

They crossed the burning plains and entered a forest. According to the map coordinates sent by Gage, there was an entrance to the underground cave system of Rude Province located here. They could enter through this entrance and avoid facing the potential Word Bearers.

This was advantageous for launching the attack; surprise is key to an attack. Unexpectedly, the forest was not burning.

This is unreasonable; everyone knows that.

Calth's starport and weapon arrays were completely destroyed before the war even began, along with dozens of warships. These debris rained down from the sky, turning the entire surface of Calth into a living hell over the past nine hours.

Then came the bombing; the Word Bearers' fleet airdropped drop pods while simultaneously bombing areas that appeared relatively intact after orbital scans.

This forest cannot possibly escape disaster, unless...

Sevatar felt a little nauseous.

He stopped, his steel boots bending and trampling a patch of grass. He looked up at the sky; the rain had stopped. The forest was silent; there was no sound in the distance. No explosions, no gunshots, not even the sound of the wind.

"Prepare for battle," Sevatar said.

His command and premonition were correct; a thick fog swept in, enveloping everyone in an instant. This wasn't the first time Sevatar had greeted the fog summoned by the Word Bearers, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

But this fog was different; it was black, a surging darkness far beyond the limits of human reason. At the same time, large swaths of scarlet began to shimmer and flicker within the fog.

Sevatar didn't know who fired the first shot, but it didn't matter, because everyone started firing. He also heard the roars of Angron Tai and the other Aurelian's Sons, not out of venting their anger, but with the intention of enduring even greater and more pain.

This is just the beginning, Angron the Sevatar thought coldly. Sooner or later we'll face Lorgar Aurelian, if we don't die. What are you going to do then?

He didn't ask the question aloud, but Angron Tai preemptively offered some kind of answer. Sevatar saw him and the Aurelian's Sons charge toward the other side of the thick fog, the other side where nothing could be seen.

"You undisciplined bastard!" Sevatar yelled. "Gather! Follow me to their aid!"

A few minutes later, they rushed into the other side of the thick fog. It was still a forest, basically unchanged, except that there were corpses everywhere. Crimson, grayish-white, and soon midnight blue would appear.

As Sevatar shot and killed two Word Bearers who tried to cut him down, he began searching for Angron Tai with his eyes. He succeeded, which should have been good news, but he couldn't feel happy at all.

"Greetings, Night Lords." A voice spoke from within the forest, behind which stood a half-human, half-demon creature, its armor crimson, the Daemon features making it extremely terrifying.

In his relatively normal hand, he carried an Astartes clad in greyish-white armor; judging from the insignia on his shoulder armor, it was Angron Tey.

What about the others? What about the other Aurelian's Sons?

"And who are you, you damned Word Bearers scum?" Sevatar greeted, his eyes scanning the surrounding forest behind his goggles. He saw some greyish-white Shadow.

The man smiled, and the scriptures were neatly arranged on his skin. "I am Erebus, the Chief Chaplain of the Word Bearers, the Dark Apostle, the Hand of Fate."

"You have quite a few titles." Sevatar drew his sword.

The Night Lords stood guard behind him, guns drawn— the Word Bearers remained unmoved. The man who called himself Erebus laughed again, or rather, his laughter never stopped.

"Choosing to start a war at this time is not a rational move, Night Lords. But since you're already here, I think I'd better not say any more. You should be the legion that needs rationality the most, even more so than the Ultramarines, but you seem to have never been able to maintain rationality."

He gracefully turned to the side, and the thing behind him tossed Angron Tai to his feet. The latter lay on the ground, his life hanging in the balance. Erebus approached him, bent down slightly, and was instantly plunged between his jaws by a combat dagger.

Angron Tai rose violently to his feet, and the second attack began instantly. More Aurelian's Sons surged forth from the surrounding forest, and the Night Lords pulled their triggers, firing alongside them.

This could have been a winning moment, had Erebus not uttered that sigh.

A deadly gale swept in from the far reaches of the black mist, followed by supernatural flames, lightning, and more surging darkness, within which Daemon howled hungrily.

Erebus got up from the ground. His jaw should have been pierced by Angron Tai. To ensure his death, Angron Tai even punched the hilt of the short knife once with his left fist. The entire hilt was embedded in Erebus's skull.

But now he's standing there like nothing happened, even reaching out to try and pull it out.

The storm of bullets was kept at bay by the gale, the flames blocked the Night Lords and the Aurelian's Sons's path to the Word Bearers, lightning brewed in the air, and the situation reversed once again.

"You've learned something new, my child," Erebus said gently.

He tossed the dagger back to Angron Tai. The blade had passed through the raging flames, filled with screaming human faces. Angron Tai caught the dagger, the hilt creaking in his gauntlet.

"To be honest, I'm somewhat disappointed in you," Erebus continued. "I've walked through a hundred thousand futures, and you should have stood by my side in those futures, sacrificing yourself for the gods alongside Kharn, the War Hounds. But you betrayed us, betrayed your father."

Angron Tai laughed, Sevatar had no doubt that if it weren't for that blazing flame blocking their way, Angron Tai would have rushed in immediately and smashed Anribas's head into his chest.

"He is not my father," the Aurelian's Sons said in a low voice. "My father is Lorgar Aurelian, not the imposter who caused all this. He would not do such a thing."

"Is that so?" Erebus smiled and countered. "Why are you so sure about this? Think back to the Perfect City, shall we?"

"That's where I'm returning."

"It seems you've been through some things I couldn't have imagined," Erebus said insincerely. "However, hatred can drive people to do many things they wouldn't have done before. Like seeing the truth, as your father did."

"In his anguish, he realized the Emperor's lies, and just how utterly unbelievable it all was. Think about it, Angron Thai. Doesn't it sound strange that a man who despises religion would allow the religion he followed to spread within the Imperium?"

"Everything you've done is a lie, a conspiracy, a betrayal. You are a venomous snake, Erebus." Angron Thai looked at him coldly. "You may try, but I will not waver. I am loyal to my true father, and he will never betray the Emperor, the Imperium, or all of humanity."

Erebus sighed regretfully.

"Have you forgotten how brutally the Ultramarines and Midnight Blade murdered our world? And now you're allied with them?" he asked, seemingly heartbroken. "How could it come to this, Angron Tai?"

The Aurelian's Sons threw down the combat dagger and picked up a Chainsword from the ground.

"Further words are useless, Erebus. Your words are worthless to me; they are nothing but poison. I have only one question for you."

"Is it you?" he asked slowly.

Erebus smiled and nodded.

The flames subsided, and he opened his arms toward Angron Tai. The Aurelian's Sons leaped into the air, letting out a roar unlike any human's, Chainsword hurtled toward Erebus's neck.

He struck, Erebus's head was almost completely severed, just a hair's breadth away, but Angron Tai's Chainsword could not advance an inch further. At the same time, flames reignited, blocking the path of all those who tried to help Angron Tai.

Erebus sighed and gently pushed the immobilized Angron Tai away. He reached for the Chainsword, turned his head back, and his eyes revealed a boredom that seemed to come from nowhere.

"Your efforts are futile, my child," Erebus said softly. "I have been chosen by the gods, and I cannot die until my work is completely accomplished. You may try as many times as you like, a thousand times, ten thousand times, but you will not get the result you desire."

Angron Te did not answer; he could not answer.

Erebus approached him with a smile. The Word Bearers behind him remained motionless, absolutely still, like puppets. He came to Angron Tai, removed his helmet, and carefully examined the golden bloodstain between the latter's eyebrows.

"Just as I thought," he murmured to himself, a smile spreading across his face. "Lorgar needs you, Angron Tai."

From his waist, he drew a dagger, curved like a viper's fang, its obsidian hilt gleaming. He raised it, and black mist swept in, instantly gathering within the dagger. The forest and light returned, and Sevatar squinted, slowly tightening his grip on the chainsaw.

"What do you want to do, Erebus?" he suddenly asked.

"This is none of your business, Night Lords." Erebus stopped what he was doing, glancing at him with a smile. "You should worry about yourselves first; even greater misfortune will soon befall you. The gods have meticulously crafted an ending for each of you; otherwise, how could they be worthy of heroes like you?"

"Oh? Really?"

Erebus remained silent, his smile still radiant. He raised his hand and pointed to the sky. Sevatar suddenly saw a star; it was night, and the clouds were pitch black. It was an intense white, as dazzling as if it were about to explode.

Sevatar felt a sharp pain in his eyes. He looked away and realized what it was in that instant.

"The sun," Erebus answered for him.

"There are many ways to please the gods: sacrifice a son before a father, kill a husband before a wife, feed their children to bloodthirsty wolves before their parents. The gods favor drama, but they prefer grand spectacle, like the explosion of a star. Calth, located in the Veridian System, once had a very good sun. But not anymore; now, it is a jinx."

A satisfied and pleased smile appeared on Erebus's face. He gripped the dagger and began to plunge it into Angron Tai's forehead. Blood flowed out, and a faint golden light flashed from it.

Sevatar heard him whispering.

"It's a sign of the end times."

A torrential downpour began, not the rain of the past, not natural rain, but a different kind of rain. It was dark, twisted blood, accompanied by howling winds, a surging tide of demons, and the roars of Daemon carried on the wind.

Sevatar took a deep breath, threw off his helmet, and activated his chainsaw. A blue light began to emerge in his eyes; the Primarch had instructed him to seal his talents, and he had complied. But now he needed a way to break the deadlock, and he couldn't think of any other way but psionic powers.

"You'd better keep that dagger away from him," Sevatar said sternly. At the same time, his bones began to creak and crack.

The psionic energy, sealed for decades, had changed in some way, not the kind of change he wanted. Sevatar felt like he was about to shatter—physically, in a way; the psionic energy was oppressing him. And it was transforming, transforming into another force.

"Oh, what else?" Erebus asked casually, continuing to carefully twirl the dagger. "What else are you going to do?"

Half a second later, he got his answer. He abruptly stopped and looked up at Sevatar, but the latter was no longer there.

The chainsaw clang echoed past in a flash, and a severed hand, clutching a dagger, flew into the air, blood splattering and landing on Sevatar's goggles. A torrential downpour washed it away instantly. Erebus watched in shock, his boredom vanishing, replaced by a surge of wild joy.

"You!" he shouted, and black mist began to envelop him. "This is truly a pleasant surprise, Night Lords! What's your name?"

"The death of Erebus," Sevatar said.

Erebus laughed maniacally as he disappeared into the black mist, and the Word Bearers began to stir. Their forms became increasingly distorted; bullets were no longer effective, but they still possessed blades.

Sevatar pulled Angron Tei up from the ground, who was breathing heavily. A few seconds later, as a Word Bearers pounced on them, he finally spoke after Sevatar had made that joke.

"A good name," he said.

Sevatar responded with a loud laugh, and the chainsaw began to roar.

Update complete.