No Need to Be So Euphemistic

["Bitter advice is good for conduct,"] the system said.

Lin En said, "I'm not really in the mood for bitter advice. Say something nicer."

"Dong—dong—dong—"

At that moment, the morning bells of Hera Fortress rang out.

The deep, resonant chimes passed through layer after layer of stone walls. By the time they reached this quiet hospital room, they had become soft and pleasant.

Faint morning drill chants drifted over from the parade ground, while the roar of transport ships taking off and landing came from the harbor. Macragge was waking up.

After that, there was silence for a long time.

Sunlight slowly crept several inches across the blanket.

Lin En remained lying on his back.

He said nothing, and neither did the system.

Lin En simply stared up at the Ultramarines banner hanging from the vaulted ceiling.

The blue banner was embroidered with guns and swords, and a golden Aquila.

Artillery fire and smoke had been stitched into still patterns, one thread at a time.

His expression slowly shifted from excitement to calm, then from calm into an expression that did not seem much like Lin En's.

Lin En absentmindedly tugged the blanket higher, covering himself.

The morning light was bright, the room was quiet, and the reserves of psychic power within his body lay deep and abundant like a lake. But he did not smile again.

Thanks. It wasn't grimdark despair yet, but he wasn't stupid either.

He actually knew.

Others might see him muttering and acting strangely while talking with the system and think he had gone mad.

But in truth, having reached his current position, if he had to choose someone to rely on, there was no one besides the system he could trust.

Yes, that included the loyalists of the Imperium.

That conclusion would probably make