Rituals, sacrifices, names, powers.

God.

Supplications, curses, vows, outrages.

- Everything.

Carlil closed his eyes, the psionic communication that had just been hung up gave his spirit a brief but precious relaxation.

He resisted the instincts that swelled up in his chest, and the shadows danced behind him like a living thing.

As a medium, the minaret itself has gained enough power, even enough for it to 'force' the Kalil in a sense—it sends the voice of the Halkosusse as they die.

Man or woman, child or elderly, soldier or civilian.

Human, or alien.

They screamed and howled. They were pierced, beheaded, brutally sliced open in the belly, gutted out, mutilated with blades, beaten into a mist of blood by bombs, and bombed into dust that escaped the air.

Then, they returned.

The last bit of spirit of the deceased, the last wish, the voice of the dead kept echoing in his ears.

It was a never-ending, unstoppable radio broadcast, and he was the only listener. Still, there was no mercy on Carlil. If anyone could gaze through the skull armor at this moment into his real eyes, they would find that all that remained in those eyes was a little bit of last peace.

There is no need for them to have mercy.

The fate of the Harcosus was determined centuries ago. They are playthings, pawns, and victims, blind people who know nothing about being tied to the altar.

Mercy does not change their circumstances, not even to save them from what they will suffer afterwards, and colluding with the Xenomorphs in the Empire is an almost unforgivable sin, and Carlil will not try to use his mercy to make the Eighth Legion act in circumvention of the law.

The survivors of the war will be judged, and the 'pure' remnant of the tenths will become slaves or servants, atoning for their sins in a lifetime's labor. They will die in misery, and so will their children.

But

But.

Carlil opened his eyes, and the flames burned. He has no mercy, no guilt, and no response.

He only hates.

Fate itself is a disgusting word, but it is also a real word. And for the Harcosus, the hand of fate that manipulated them and made them puppets in their ignorance was real.

He.

"Do you think that's funny?" He asked, then cast his gaze to the drumming, heavy curtain, at which he stared at it and heard a snickerer that could not have been more obvious.

"If you mean this massacre that is about to happen to all the Harcosus, yes, my friend."

The thing replied with a smile behind the veil.

"I found it very interesting."

"Despicable false gods." Carlil sneered.

"You can curse me in any language you know, my friend, and I'll laugh at them."

He pressed his face to the veil in a leisurely manner, and Carlil saw a pulsing mist that shimmered with silver. It is constantly changing, taking on thousands of different forms in the blink of an eye, it is a living thing, a dead thing, a wind and a rain, a dying old man, and a baby about to be born.

The Lord of Change.

Carlil stared at the changes he was unfolding and shook his head slowly, "If you don't care, you won't show up. ”

"I just wanted to see how you react at the moment, friend, you're one of the few exceptions among us."

He replied with a faint smile: "I am afraid that even my most courageous old friend would not dare to be like you, to put himself into an inferior skin and to endure the filth of the world, to sink and suffer."

"Filth?"

Carlil smiled slowly, and the dark flames began to burn slowly along the edge of the veil. It turbulent, found traces, and tried to bring the perpetrator back behind the Veil, but was unable to do so because of his skin and covenant.

"If it's dirty, why do you keep trying to get your hands on it? You act as if you don't care about the world, but you really care. ”

"Because it's funny."

He replied, and then his form changed again, and he became a thin man in a black robe, whose skin was disgusting as if it had been formed by folds. Right now, He is smiling.

"I really don't care about all of that. I have my own plan for everything, and whatever it may be distorted into along the way, whether or not it is expected to happen, it will become a small note in the blueprint that I have done by hand, nothing more. ”

"If you think I'm going to be disappointed by its failure, you're afraid you're going to get ahead of me to taste this emotion that is so alien to me. This catastrophe that befell Harcosus I means nothing to me, friend. What is the death of these foolish people? ”

"In this cold, cruel galaxy, would anyone really care about what they have endured?"

He laughed behind the curtain—uncontrollably, a cruel laugh. It's brutal because it's so real.

He really didn't care about this defeat, the death of the Halkosus, or anything else. He doesn't care because He only needs to succeed once.

One time is enough.

Carlil exhaled cold air from between his lips and teeth, his eyes widened and he suddenly trembled with excitement, and the wizened man danced and shouted in the darkness.

"Yes, yes, I know what you're going to say, you're going to say you care. I also know you'll care. But do you really think. Are you still human? Look at yourself, friend. ”

The voice was muffled and turned into a pure narrative. His form changed again, and he was transformed into an old man with white hair, dressed in a charred suit, with coiled vipers in his eyes, and without a single tooth in his mouth, holding a scroll as if he were telling a story.

He spoke slowly.

"You ignored the vengeance pleas of your kind, allowing them to be slaughtered by a subspecies of humans. You send your son into battle and let him step into this massive flesh mill for himself. Now, you're standing in this shoddy temple that I've put together for you on the fly, without even shedding a tear for the Halkosus. ”

"Do you understand, Carlil Lohals? Do you understand what I'm trying to say? You have to learn from your predecessors, the fire thief is a shameful thief, but he has endured this contradiction for countless years."

The old man smiled slightly, and the skin formed by the wind and sun began to fall off. The serpent hissed and screamed, spitting out scarlet letters, torn into long rags in the whirlpool that rose sharply. Spinning, spinning, spinning – eternity goes on like a psychedelic mirror.

"He's on the verge of real madness, my friend." The mirror whispered. "What about you? I'm curious, how long will it take to turn you into this? ”

"You can give it a try." Carlil replied calmly, the grinding sound echoing under the cloak, and the cursed second didn't happen - it was rejected by him.

"Ten thousand years? 20,000 years? I'm sure it will take you a long time to really drive you crazy. But."

The mirror now showed a pale face on the surface.

The eyes that are completely black rest quietly above the towering cheekbones, the bridge of the nose is high, and the lips are shallow, pursed into a curved line. Conrad Coetzes smiled calmly at the person outside the mirror, like a perfect pale sculpture.

The mirror refracted a wonderful light, making his countenance half full of radiance and half hidden in darkness. The bright half was quiet and trustworthy, and the dark half was covered with blood and looked mad.

"What about him?"

In the next second, the mirror shattered abruptly.

"What about him? What about him? What about him? What about him? ”

Countless murmurs rang out from the darkness, like a dream, like the narration of the voice of reason. However, no matter which one it is, there is a lot of malice in it.

"He's an anchor to your humanity, friend." Tzeentch said. "And I love it a lot."

Carlil smiled, his muscles working monotonously, lifting his skin and tugging at the corners of his mouth, making him look like a doll glued together with hatred.

"I pity you." He whispered. "Do you know why, Tzeentch? Because those who really have faith in themselves never go into a long story. They won't be as incapable of facing defeat as you poor wretch, and you're barking at the winners. ”

"But did you really win?" The voice of reason in the vortex was not angry, but asked curiously. "Do you really think you've won? Harcosus has three planets, friends. Three, don't forget about it. ”

He chuckled and walked away.

Updated.

The update is slow because I want to keep the quality while keeping a certain number of words, sorry.

(End of chapter)