They Are the True Space Marines

Titus didn't speak, just looked at him.

Blade Phaeron continued, "But don't think it's over.

Necrons will not crash due to the failure of a Phaeron.

Silent King will avenge me, there will be more troops, stronger weapons, and more crazy tactics.

You humans--"

"I know." Titus interrupted him, "I didn't think it was over like this.

This is just the beginning.

A long start."

Blade Phaeron was silent.

What he wanted to say was blocked by Titus's understatement of "I know."

He wanted to threaten, to intimidate, and to let this human being know what kind of enemy they were facing.

But this man understands everything, understands everything, and knows everything.

He still chose to fight, still chose to charge, and still chose to put the sword on his neck.

"Kill me." Blade Phaeron said, without any emotion in his voice, "My consciousness will return to the tomb and then be put into a new body.

I'll be back."

Titus looked at him, a complicated light flashed in those blue-gold eyes.

He suddenly remembered his father's words - don't insult a respectable opponent.

"Let's go." He said, letting go of his hand.

Blade Phaeron's torso floated in the vacuum, and the green mist slowly spread around him.

He was stunned, and a glint of disbelief flashed in his dim eyes.

"You won't kill me?"

Titus shook his head. "If I kill you, you will be resurrected somewhere else.

It makes no sense.

And-" he paused, "you are a respectable opponent.

I don't want you to die so ugly."

Blade Phaeron was silent for a long time.

His emotional simulation system is running wildly, trying to understand this human's logic.

He finally came to the conclusion that this human being was giving him alms.

Not pity, not sympathy, but a kind of respect from a warrior to a warrior.

He wanted to be angry, to refuse, to tell this human being that he didn't need anyone's charity.

But his logic array told him that this human being was telling the truth.

"This body of mine has been scrapped." Blade Phaeron said, with a hint of imperceptible fatigue in his voice, "There are no limbs, the energy core is leaking, and the cost of repair is higher than rebuilding.

I will transfer my consciousness back and let this body fend for itself here."

Titus nodded. "Okay."

Blade Phaeron glanced at him for the last time. In his green eyes, there was complexity, regret, and a trace of emotion that even he himself could not identify.

Then his eyes went out, and the green light slowly dissipated, leaving only two dim crystals.

His torso lost all power and slowly floated into the distance in the vacuum, like an abandoned metal wreckage.

Titus stood there, looking at the wreckage gradually receding, and was silent for a long time.

Then he turned around and flew towards Macragge's Honour.

On the bridge of Macragge's Honour, Titus was saying goodbye to his brothers.

Caphalon stood in front of him. The golden flame on Power Axe had just extinguished, and there were still traces of burning green energy on the deck.

"Company Commander," Caphalon said, with a hint of exhaustion in his voice, "Are we really not going to continue chasing?

Necrons's fleet is still retreating, we can totally-"

Titus shook his head. "I won't chase you anymore."

Caphalon frowned. "Why?"

Titus walked to the porthole and looked out at the blue figures who were cleaning the battlefield.

Two hundred and fifty thousand Ultramarines are collecting the wreckage of the Necrons battleship, loading the Living Metal fragments into the recovery cabin, and dismantling the still usable Phase Weapons and taking them away.

Their movements were skillful and efficient, as if they were conducting a routine training session.

"The incident of bumping into Blade Phaeron," Titus said, with a hint of smile in his voice, "To me, it's like having a bite of dessert before eating the main meal.

You can have a taste, but you must not delay the business."

Caphalon was stunned for a moment. "Business?"

Titus turned around and looked at him. "Our main business is to go back to Terra, to go back to see Gene-Father, and to go back to participate in the real war.

Phaeron of Necrons?

It's just an appetizer."

Caphalon was silent.

He remembered the news he had received before departure - Silent King personally led a tens of billions Necrons army and was advancing towards Terra.

That's the real war, that's where Ultramarines should appear.

"Send the order," Titus's voice sounded in the communication channel, spreading throughout the entire battleship, "The entire ship is gathering and preparing to jump.

Target--Terra."

Two hundred and fifty thousand voices responded simultaneously, "Yes!"

Macragge's Honour's engine began to warm up, and the faint blue light flickered in the void.

Titus Standing on the bridge, looking at the endless void ahead, a thought suddenly came to his mind.

Ten thousand years ago, Guilliman was nine hours late for a Warp Storm and failed to catch the critical moment of Siege of Terra.

Those nine hours have become an eternal curse in the Ultramarines gene, engraved deep in the soul of every descendant.

Thinking of this, Titus cursed Tzeentch again in the bottom of his heart.

Just don't worry about scolding Tzeentch, right?

Anyway, if you encounter problems in this shitty Milky Way, you are right to scold Tzeentch!

Deep inside Warp, Tzeentch is playing with countless threads of Destiny in his Crystal Labyrinth.

He suddenly sneezed, and the sneeze was so violent that it made the entire maze tremble.

He raised his head, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes.

Who is scolding me?

The voices of the other three Chaos gods sounded in his mind at the same time, with a gloating smile.

Khorne said: You must have made another conspiracy.

Nurgle said: You deserve it.

Slaanesh said: Well done.

Tzeentch left the group chat cursing.

Blade Phaeron's consciousness was transmitted in the phase channel. The speed was thousands of times faster than the speed of light, but it still made him feel eternity.

His memory matrix retains the images of the last moment - the blue-gold eyes of Titus, the Power Sword burning with flames, and the broken body of Necrodermis.

How long has he been floating in space?

Don't know.

His consciousness was encapsulated in a small data packet and shuttled through the Necron Empire's internal network at high speed, passing through countless Tomb Worlds, passing through countless dynasty territories, and finally arrived at the flagship of Silent King.

Consciousness reloads.

Blade Phaeron opened his eyes and found himself lying in a brand new body of Necrodermis.

The body is more advanced than the previous one, with more flexible joints, stronger armor, and more efficient energy circuits.

But he didn't feel anything, because this body was just as cold as the last one.

Silent King stood in front of him, there was no blame in those green eyes, only an ancient, deep tiredness.

"You failed."

Silent King said, the voice was calm, as if describing time.