In the afternoon, the sky over Nukeria turns an extremely calm deep blue, with heavy clouds rolling across the canvas-like sky. A little later, the sky will turn a blood-red hue.

There are not so many high-rise buildings to block out the natural scenery, and the sun will appear or say goodbye without reservation.

Carlil stared thoughtfully at the foreign sky, and did not speak for a long time, until a voice came from behind him: "Instructor." ”

He turned his head and saw a serious face. Now he was standing with the man on a plain, far from Daishea.

Nukeria has a lot to sort out, and the Ultramarines hope that their cousins will see a planet of order when they arrive, and at that point, it will be much easier for them to take over.

This kindness is natural, and Carlil appreciates it, and also needs the many things it brings.

He had been following the second company of the First Regiment, observing their every move. Communicate with the tribes, persuade the city that is still resisting, and treat the locals peacefully. He sees every detail.

The purpose of this trip has been completely changed, but that doesn't mean he's going to abandon his goal - he's an instructor in the Eighth Legion, a position that has taken on the duties and powers of an Adjutant of the Primordial in Konrad Coetze's repeated changes.

Therefore, when he returned to the Eighth Legion, he would need to do much more than just teach martial arts.

Every step he saw now was the accumulated experience of the Ultramarines, and for the Eighth Legion, they were not necessarily useful, but knowing it was better than not knowing.

"Commander of the second company of Miro." Carlil smiled. "What's the matter with me?"

The second company commander made a simple gesture: "I'm here to apologize." ”

"To whom?"

"To you." The second company commander said. "I have learned from my brothers in my company about their reckless behavior, and I must come and apologize for it."

"They didn't do anything they shouldn't have done, Second Company Commander, why do you apologize?"

The second company commander did not reply, but looked at him stubbornly, and showed Carlil a certain flaw in his face - a stubbornness that could be called pedantic.

He did not hide this, and even showed it with an attitude of almost pride. He came to apologize, and at the same time strongly hoped that Carlil would accept his apology.

Carlil knew why.

He shook his head, "It's nothing, it's just a few sword fights." Isn't it a very common pastime among the Astartes to relax by competing with each other in their leisure time? ”

"But they used real swords." Miro said solemnly. This is not allowed or forgiven. I have reported their mistakes to the Warlord and left it to him to decide. Punishment will come, but I still need to apologize to you. ”

Carlil finally got upset.

"Okay, okay, I accept." He raised his hands. "It's just, please go tell the Gage War Leader again, and ask him not to punish him too severely."

"I do my best." The second company commander nodded. "However, I would like to make some suggestions if you allow it."

Carlil almost said yes—or rather, he should.

A loud and sharp thud interrupted his reply, and looking up, he saw a blinding flash of fire and a rapidly falling meteor. It streaked across the sky, turning the sky a bloody red instead of the setting sun a few hours later.

"What's going on?" Miro's voice came from his side, and the commander of the second company asked calmly and quickly in the communication channel.

"Which of our transports or Storm Hawks is out of order? Immediately determine the location of the forced landing and organize people to go over to support, search for survivors, remember to evacuate the local natives, and I will report this to the original body."

What a reliable response. Listening to him, Carlil thought.

Robert Killeman was indeed raising his children according to his vision, and he gave his legions something unrelated to the war, and they did not fail him.

But

He looked up again, staring at the blood-red trail left by the meteor, and sighed slowly and soothingly half a minute later.

Falling planes burning past the sky would only emit thick smoke, and it was absolutely impossible for the flames to spread so long in the air without any combustibles, and even turn half of the sky so horribly blood-red.

"Don't send someone over just yet, Second Company Commander." Carlil spoke softly. "Not anyone."

Miro looked at him in confusion.

"Report this to your primordial." Carlil said. "Don't do anything else."

What do you mean by that?"

Miro stared at him tightly, wanting a definite explanation. But Carlil didn't say anything, just sighed softly.

"I hate riddles as much as I do, believe me, Second Company Commander." He said.

——

Calm down, think calmly. Karn persuaded himself with a voice of reason he had learned over the years of bloody war.

He learned a lot from the war, one of which was to control anger. Anger is human, it is something that everyone can do, but as a warrior you need to learn to control it.

He did it.

Then there are more emotions – anxiety, fear, pain, confusion. He sighed patiently, and little by little undid the harness that fastened his waist in the billowing smoke and the smell of blood, which seemed to choke a person.

He fell to the ground, a piercing pain in his chest. In addition to the distorted noise, there was a constant alarm sound, and his power armor warned him that they had been damaged and that they might not be able to help him if there was any more fighting.

"Okay, okay." He grunted and removed his helmet, barely opening his bloodied eyes and seeing everything in front of him.

Then he saw blood.

Boundless.

Karn froze, for a moment he almost forgot where he was—yes, where are we?

He frowned, the wound on his forehead bleeding more from the action, but that didn't stop Karn from thinking.

Amidst the burning metal ruins and his brother's corpse, Karn of the Eighth Company of the War Hounds began to think bitterly and angrily.

What's going on? Where am I? Why am I here?

He doesn't have an answer, he thinks, but he doesn't have an answer. Karn picked up his helmet and put it back on. A steady light flashed on his retina, and he began to call in the communication channel, steady and calm, like the voices that war dogs use most often in war.

"This is Karn, Karn of the Eighth Company."

His brothers died, but since they did, it meant that there was a war going on. He didn't know who he was fighting against, but the war dogs never showed weakness, and they would never give up even to the last man.

Karn knew that something was most wrong with his memory, and he guessed it was due to the impact of the landing. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but look back at the ruins of the metal again, looking for some evidence, but he couldn't see anything familiar.

Everything was disorganized, chaotic and eerie, and the remaining traces of metal connections on the ground suggested that this was supposed to be a landing module. But his chair was in the shape of a storm eagle

Wrong.

He frowned, his thoughts and calls interrupted, interrupted by a sound coming from behind the burning flames. The voice was like a roar, and it was like a wail.

What was that?

Karn didn't have an answer, but he chose to keep his mouth shut, and then his eyes began to search the burning ruins.

Eight seconds later, he found a chainsaw axe. After another eight seconds, he cautiously stepped out of the ruins of metal, stepping on shattered tempered glass and blood. The readings on the eyepiece were telling him that this was a safe and pollution-free world, but he should never take off his helmet.

He had no weapons, only a chainsaw axe, but that didn't stop him from moving forward. The eyepiece's visual aid module spontaneously transforms the world he sees into black and white, allowing him to see every detail in the darkness.

Karn clutched his unactivated chainsaw axe tightly and walked towards where the sound had come from.

He stepped heavily across the grass, his power armor humming slightly, the wound on his forehead still aching, but he didn't care. He had to figure out what's going on—

"—Karn."

He jerked his head back, the axe raised high, and he saw a familiar face.

"Company Commander Jageer?" Confused, he lowered his weapon. "What's going on?"

Jeger, the commander of the fourth company, smiled and nodded at him, but did not answer, the blood-red and brass armor emitted a strong smell of blood. On the right shoulder, which once had the insignia of the war dog, is now a strange symbol decorated with a skull.

He didn't have a helmet on, and his entire face was distorted by the smile. Flesh trembled, and once-calm eyes were now sunk behind their sockets, scanning Karn's face quickly and nervously, observing every detail of his body.

"Don't you know?" The commander of the fourth company asked in a low voice. "Karn, don't you know what's going on?"

"Of course I don't know - what's your armor all about, Company Commander Jagele?"

Jagger didn't answer, his face twitching, and in the next instant, an attack that Karn didn't expect came with a sudden attack.

The commander of the Fourth Company laughed maniacally, knocking Karn down with terrible rage, and the chainsaw axe sank deep into his waist - in pain and consternation, Karn stared into Jagger's eyes, and then, he realized something.

The commander of the Fourth Company—the calm, sensible, respectable Jegger who had saved the Eighth Company many times—was gone.

"Blood sacrifice to the blood god!" He roared. "Cranial sacrifice!"

It's finally more out

You can guess what the situation is, and guess it right.

By the way, Karn was not the commander of the Eighth Company at this time, and he was only passively promoted after the death of his superiors. As for why, I won't say.

Oh, by the way, again, I don't send knives.

(End of chapter)