Until the storm comes, you'd better continue to be calm.

Carlil agrees.

Actually, he couldn't agree more.

Translate - before he actually went to war with the Eighth Legion, he still had to correct official documents every day.

Yes, Carlil isn't averse to it, but don't just think it's enjoyable. No sane person would enjoy such a brain- and energy-intensive job.

Today, however, is a little different. His boring grading time was being interrupted by another person, and Carlil welcomed him very well.

During this time, I often dreamed." Van Cleef said.

The first company commander did not wear his armor, he sat in the office to which Carlil was assigned in a training uniform, sitting in a very restrained posture and with a serious expression.

Karil looked up at him, then lowered his head again, "How long has it been since you've had a good night's rest?" ”

There was a vague nervousness on Van Cleef's pale face: "Seventeen days." ”

"So, I'm guessing the dream started seventeen days ago, right?"

"Yes, instructor." The commander of a company of the Eighth Army replied quickly.

Carlil put down his pen and sighed.

"Before you came, Siani came looking for me with your lieutenant, Moletz. They reported one thing. About the request of their company commander for the last seventeen days. ”

The company commander frowned solemnly: "I have to be like this, instructor. ”

"So, Van Cleef," Carlil asked patiently, raising his right hand and making a gesture. "You've got to let me know what you're dreaming about."

Van Cleef pursed his lips tightly, and his face turned even paler, like faded old clothes.

"Some debris." He replied in a very soft voice. "I don't know if they're memories or flickering fragments, because I can only see staccato images."

"I saw me working under a mine, with a bunch of people who were so thin that they were weirdly described. I also saw shops covered in human limb parts, a deep purple sky cut by neon lights, and some dead people in front of me. I think I'm seeing Nostramo, instructor, and I wish I was seeing Nostramo, not an illusion made up of something else. ”

"So, you had your brothers tie you up and be a prisoner for seventeen days?"

"I have nothing else to do."

Carlil nodded calmly at him, "The images you see are indeed from Nostramo. ”

Van Cleef was taken aback, while Carlil continued.

"To be precise, what you're seeing is a flashback of memory." So said the instructor of the Eighth Legion. "And that memory probably comes from me."

"Psionics?"

"Not necessarily." Carlil frowned and looked at the company commander. "It could be some deeper, occult connection - I'm not very good at this stuff, all I can say is, you're okay right now, Van Cleaf."

Van Cleef opened his mouth, his throat rolling up and down, and then, slowly, he nodded, "I see, instructor." That is, am I fully recovered? ”

"Yes, your body is fully recovered." Carlil said. "But I'm not sure if anything else will happen after that, so if you feel anything wrong, come to me right away."

"Yes."

"It's not an order, Van Cleef."

"I'll take it as a command." The company commander stood up, nodded to their instructor, and walked away.

Time has passed, and everyone in the Eighth Regiment now knows how to respond to the demands of their instructors. Carlil was frustrated by this, but it wasn't always good to really ask everyone to abandon their own rules.

He had no choice but to go with the flow.

The door closed as Van Cleef left, and the sound of metal crashing against each other sounded pleasant, and the way it closed together was so comfortable for others, some in red robes that smelled of oil.

The Order of the Mechanics - Carlil doesn't know much about them, but that doesn't stop him from having a basic impression of them.

Judging by the last few contacts, as well as the documents they have sent, it seems that the Kahlir have come to regard them as an independent organization with a high degree of autonomy within the Empire. In fact, given their importance to the Empire's military power, it would not be an exaggeration to call them a state within a state.

Logically speaking, they should be wary, but the problem is that they seem to see the Emperor, the ruler of the human empire, as the messenger of the gods in their teachings. That's where it gets interesting.

Ohm Messiah. That's how they called the emperor.

+ There are so many avatars of yours. +

+ You may sound sarcastic about me. +

+There's no such thing as a tone in psionic communication.+

After a casual conversation with a friend on the other side of the galaxy, Carlil opened his eyes. And the emperor, or rather, Neos was helpless at the moment.

Knowing of Angrang's existence, he straightforwardly sent his fleet to Nukeria, but there were so many things that happened along the way. By the time he reached Nukeria by the leap, his sons had already left there and were headed for Nostramo.

+ They seem to have decided you're dead, Carlile. +

+ The way I looked at that time was indeed in line with the common perception of death, but why have you been calling me for psionic communications lately? Because I used to hang up too much? +

+ No, I just wanted to communicate to confirm if I was still in time. +

Carlil frowned.

+ What's in time? +

+ Witnesses of the mourning of the living to the living. Believe me, even for me, it's a rare sight. +

The instructor of the Eighth Regiment took a deep breath.

+ If only you could show this humorous and human side to others, Your Majesty, I am sure that your sons, your friends, your Praetorian Army—all of them, will be very grateful to you. +

+ I just said something, you don't have to. +

+ Is it? +

The man on the other side of the galaxy was silent for a moment.

+ Anyway, I'll be there soon. I hope that Angelang's nails will still be removed. +

+ He may not be willing. +

+ I'll respect him, but I still need to give it a try. +

Carlil shook his head and said nothing more. In terms of stubbornness, he was not qualified to persuade the emperor. He put down his pen and glanced at the number of papers that were left, and when he was sure that he could finish them by half-past three tonight, he walked out of his office.

He needed to tell Konrad Coetze something

A more embarrassing thing.

——

"You mean, they thought you were dead?"

Conrad Coetze's eyes widened, and the filthy wind on the ground of Nostramo rattled the corners of his clothes. The Lord of the Eighth Legion crouched on his eleventh gargoyle with a look of astonishment.

"Don't you think I'm dead, too?"

"That's different!" Conrad Coetzes turned his head away. "I've seen your skeleton with my own eyes, and who would think you're alive in that situation?"

Carlil chuckled and didn't speak. He lowered his head and observed Nostramo at the edge of the building.

The purification is in its final stages, and the quality of the air is still poor, but it will never smell so bad that it can endanger people's health. Unfortunately, though, even the Mechanics have nothing they can do about the Eternal Night of Nostramo.

- And, even if there was a way, they wouldn't do it, they're not crazy. For a long time, the Nostramo people have evolved eyes adapted to the night, and in this case there is only one consequence of letting the sun out.

"What are you laughing at?" Conrad Coetzes turned his head, a vague flicker of dissatisfaction on his face.

"Because you just told a nice joke, so I laughed, what's the problem, Conrad?"

Is that a joke?"

"Isn't that right?"

Carlil asked rhetorically, easily taking back the initiative in the conversation.

"Also, why do you run to the ground during working hours to observe? The second company on duty today will be very unhappy to see it, and you don't want their company commander to come to me again to complain about your 'distrust', right? ”

“.”

Midnight Ghost pursed her lips in exasperation and hissed in retort, "Can't I just come back to see my home planet?" ”

"Yes, yes, but are you done with today's work?"

"I'm two-thirds done!"

"That's a third of what you're going to do tonight, right?"

“.”

"Answer my question, Conrad."

"Yes."

"That's not good, and so am I." Carlil smiled pleasantly, the smile culminating after Midnight Ghost's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Y-forget it."

Midnight Wraith sighed, and Conrad Coetzes took his place: "Anyway, are they almost there?" ”

"Probably."

"Don't you know?"

"Of course I don't know."

"But didn't you come back from Nukeria?" Conrad Coetzes asked casually. "Can't you count how long it will take them to get to Nostramo without using subspace navigation?"

Carlil's eyes narrowed slowly, and after a few seconds, he grinned.

"Your sense of humor is as bad as mine, Conrad." He said from the bottom of his heart. "It's a good joke, don't make it to anyone else."

"You haven't answered my question yet."

"Yes – they're almost there. It's not today, it's tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, why are you so active about it? ”

Conrad Coetze did not answer this question.

He certainly won't tell Karil Lohals why.

There is also a chapter in 3k

(End of chapter)