C'tan Infusion!

A strange feeling suddenly arose in his heart.

That's sympathy.

He remembered those Chaos Space Marines.

Their souls were corrupted, their wills were twisted, and their bodies were possessed by demons.

But at least they have souls.

At the very least, they will be miserable, desperate, and crazy.

Those pains and despair may be what these Necrons dream about.

Because that at least proves that they are still alive.

"You might as well return to the grave," Titus said, with a rare gentleness in his voice. "For a warrior, that is the best destination."

Blade Phaeron looked at him, a trace of fluctuation flashed in those green eyes.

"I have wanted to die for a long time," his voice suddenly became excited. The excitement was real and could not be simulated by the matrix. "I don't want to keep even this little bit of consciousness left!

I don't even want this memory matrix to continue running!"

He took a step forward, and the green light surged with his movement. "But my personal will is so small!

As long as the entire Necrons race can continue to ride in Milky Way and continue to live forever--"

His voice suddenly dropped, as low as a whisper, "Then I am willing to escape the embrace of death for the time being."

He was a little emotional.

He knew that he shouldn't have emotions at the moment, and he really didn't have any emotions.

But his matrix told him that he needed to use this behavior pattern to advertise to the other party that everything he did was right, at least for himself.

He wanted to do all this from the bottom of his heart.

Really?

Absolutely.

He must say this to himself, he must say this to himself.

Otherwise, what should he do in the face of this cold life, this cold universe, and this cold future?

He could never accept the fact calmly - everything he owned at the moment did not belong to him, but only belonged to the master control agreement.

Of course this is acceptable, most Necrons don't even have this awareness.

But he still didn't want to admit it.

He longed to prove that he was alive, not just a running, barely logical line of numbers.

He took a deep breath, which was meaningless because his body didn't need to breathe.

But that action calmed him down and made his voice cold and firm again.

"That's enough chatter, human!"

He raised Dust Scythe, and the green light on the sickle blade was like substance, "My will is firm and will not waver in the slightest."

Blade Phaeron moved.

His speed was so fast that Titus's eyes could not catch it.

One second he was standing ten steps away, and the next second he had appeared in front of Titus, and Dust Scythe swept across, with enough power to tear apart the stars.

Titus raised his sword to block.

But the force was so great that even Law of Eternity couldn't offset it.

His Power Sword let out a piercing whine at the moment of contact, and his body flew backwards like a cannonball, crashing through Blackstone walls one after another.

The first wall.

His back armor shattered.

The second wall.

His pauldrons deformed.

The third wall.

His helmet flew off.

The fourth wall.

A deep crack appeared on his breastplate.

The fifth wall.

Golden blood spilled from the corners of his mouth.

He crashed through seven Blackstone walls and finally stopped in front of the eighth wall.

Those Blackstone are the top creations of Necrons, naturally suppressing the power of Warp, and each one is up to three meters thick.

At this moment, holes in the shape of Titus's body were left on them, with golden blood stains still remaining on the edges.

The figure of Blade Phaeron appeared in front of the last hole.

He walked slowly, taking each step steadily and forcefully, leaving deep footprints on the Blackstone ground.

His Dust Scythe dragged on the ground, drawing a faint green track on the metal floor.

Titus struggled to stand up.

His Power Armour was in pieces. The armor that had been blessed by Guilliman was now full of cracks and chips.

His Power Sword was full of gaps, and the golden light was so dim that it almost went out.

There were scars all over his body, and golden blood seeped out from every wound, gathering into a pool at his feet.

He raised his sword and pointed at Blade Phaeron.

His hands were shaking, but his eyes remained firm.

Blade Phaeron looked at him, there was no pity or hesitation in those green eyes, only a cold, almost cruel determination.

He raised Dust Scythe, and the light on the sickle blade became stronger and brighter, like a supernova about to explode.

Then, he struck the blow.

Dust Scythe turned into a ray of green lightning, penetrated Titus's defense, penetrated his Power Armour, penetrated his chest, and came out from his back.

The heart carrying Law of Eternity was shattered into pieces by the edge of the sickle.

Titus's body froze.

He looked down at the sickle blade that penetrated his chest, watched the green energy burning in his wound, and watched his golden blood slowly dripping down the sickle blade.

His Power Sword slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a crisp metal impact.

Blade Phaeron looked at him, a complicated light flashed in those green eyes.

It was not the joy of victory, but an ancient and heavy farewell.

"Goodbye, human."

His voice was very low, low enough that only the two of them could hear, "You are a respectable opponent.

In my endless life, it is my honor to meet a warrior like you."

He is going to draw out Dust Scythe.

But Titus's hand suddenly grasped the sickle blade.

The golden blood seeped out from between the fingers and dripped on Blade Phaeron's hand.

His eyes were dim, but his lips were still moving slightly.

What did he want to say.

Maybe it's a farewell, maybe it's a curse, maybe it's just an unfinished prayer.

But his voice could no longer come out, his breath had dissipated, and his eyes slowly closed.

Blade Phaeron drew out Dust Scythe.