As it turned out, Konrad Coetze's words were not wrong.

The blood-red sky gradually shifted, turning into pure pitch black at a speed visible to the naked eye. The wind howled, and the voice was like the whisper of a ghost. Van Cleef turned his head and stared intently at where his original body was, trying to ask more questions.

However, he didn't see Conrad Coetzes, he only saw flames.

Agni, pitch-black fire.

- from afar, from the end of the horizon.

Mountains, rocks, cities, and land were reduced to shattered, charred corpses. Trembling, screaming, roaring in the flames, and the sound of resentment was endless. The head of the company straightened his back, and his two hearts beat rapidly.

His intellect was stunned by the illusion and fell into a freeze. But it didn't last long, and in the next second, the illusion was forced back by the force surging between his blood, and the 'real' turned into a dazzling aurora.

Van Cleeff clenched his fists and trembled uncontrollably. The world before him was being transformed, the night was deep, the air was condensed, and it was as quiet as a cemetery. The sun was brutally murdered by the sudden rise of the night, and there was no more light.

He didn't understand what was going on, but he could 'see'.

He could see the world as it really was—a cemetery, a scorched earth graveyard burned by flames and the screams of the dead.

Is this real?

Van Cleef questioned himself intellectually, still not getting an answer. He stared at the flames, his eyes burning as if they were burning. Conrad Coetze's voice came to his ears in the next second, with an unparalleled sense of reassurance.

"What do you see, Van Cleef?" The original asked calmly.

Van Cleef tried to answer, but couldn't. Coates stared at him, nodded slowly, and didn't speak. Van Cleef saw a change in him – Conrad Coetze, who used to be gentle and polite, now seemed focused and dangerous.

The original body looked up thoughtfully and looked at the sky. The sky was dark, and a gloomy crescent moon loomed behind the dark clouds. It emits an icy light that does not dispel the darkness, but rather makes it more and more abundant.

Van Cleeff heard the communication channels rustle, a gloomy hum that continued to ring, and the eyepieces kept popping up one name after another, connecting to the communication channel—they were swiftly swept across like mercury, but Van Cleef could see each name clearly.

He opened his mouth and felt it hard to breathe. Conrad Coetzes was still standing beside him, seemingly unaware of what was happening, but his expression was grim to the point of not his own.

- How could he be ignorant of the current situation?

These visions were not hidden from him. Conrad Coetzes saw through the fire and darkness, and saw clearly the upturned tomb, the dead man standing up again. They were clothed in flames, and their faces were pale.

Revenant.

But not the ghosts of the Harcosus, but the souls of the Eighth Legion.

Realizing this made him feel suffocated. Coates felt as if his neck had been pierced with a cold iron hook, and a rotten rope was tied to the top of the hook and lifted him.

Breathing hurts, and thinking hurts. So he stood still, taking a slow, deep breath, but a hollow voice came to his ears.

The darkness was not going to let him go, and Conrad Coetzes couldn't avoid it.

He was forced to start listening—by the fifth second, he realized it was an ode. In the tenth second, he comprehended the language of the singers through a few low, coherent syllables. In the fifteenth second, he began to immerse himself. Those syllables had a magical power, and they took him to a place of silence.

He came to a palace made of stone.

The wind howled, the inside was empty, and the ground was covered with a thick layer of dust, even below the ankles of his iron boots. Many of them were already drifting in the wind, like white ashes.

Conrad Coetzes walked forward, and the suffocating sensation began to intensify, but he remained unmoved, feeling an extreme calm. He stepped forward, his footsteps monotonous, rhythmically sounding in the midst of the carol.

Eventually, he saw a throne full of cracks. Karil Lohals stood on the throne, his back to him.

"Are you going to explain?" Conrad Coetzes asked, his voice tinged with rare bitterness. "I didn't see that."

"Absolutely." Carlil replied. "This is a temple, this is a throne for the gods to rest."

He turned, his expression calm, and as always, Coates grinned sarcastically, "How many more times are you going to put on this expression, Carlil?" ”

"Until I'm done, Conrad." The giant in armor replied calmly. "I want to end this war as quickly as possible, we can't be dragged into the quagmire, there are three planets in Harcosus."

"And it is impossible for a man to end a war on his own." Conrad Coetzes said slowly, his eyes staring at Carlil as dangerously as a wounded beast. "No one else can do that."

He accentuated the pronunciation of the word 'person'.

Carlil smiled.

"You're alluding to something, do you know where this is?"

"I don't know, I just know that you said it was a temple."

"Yes, it's a temple, an underground temple built by the hands of the Harcosus xenomorphs and forgotten by themselves. The temple belonged to the god of fire, and for centuries the Xenomorphs aboard Harcosus One had maintained their devotion to the faith. Sacrifice once every five years, supplication every five years."

"You see the dust floating in the air, right? They are not dust, Conrad, they are the remains of the dead, one of the proofs of their faith. In the ancient legend of the Haloxuss One, the gods of fire will resurrect when meteors fall from the sky, and then, with their last devotions, they will awaken the gods and give them the power to change their curses. ”

"You sound like you're telling a myth."

"It's a myth, Conrad, it's just a myth about the aliens."

"So, what's the deal with that curse?"

"It's. It sounded like a curse. The Xenomorphs of Harkosus' are unable to reproduce through normal means, and if they want to grow their population, they must infect humans through some kind of ritual. This ritual is called the initiation of fire. ”

"Upon completion of the ritual, all newborn Halkosus Xenomorphs will naturally and naturally possess a belief in the god of fire. They will devoutly defend this faith until they die. ”

"So, what about the god?" Conrad Coetze stared at Caryl and spoke softly. "The god of fire, right? Where is He? ”

"He doesn't exist." Carlil said calmly. "Even if the beliefs that have been sealed for centuries are activated, even if Harcosus I has become an earthly kingdom because of these beliefs. He doesn't exist either. ”

"The kingdom of God on earth?"

"yes." Carlil nodded at him. "The kingdom of God on earth. A world that was briefly converted by faith and became the abode and realm of the gods, where its gods could do anything. ”

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Conrad Coetzes walked towards him. His expression looked as if it was pensive, and Carlil knew he wasn't. Conrad Coetz didn't need to think for so long, his superior intelligence was enough for him to handle anything in a matter of seconds.

He's angry.

The same white giant as he looked like he walked under the throne and spoke slowly.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked in a spicy tone. "Don't you trust the Legion? Do you think they really need you to be this ridiculous god? You-"

"—no one needs a god." Carlil replied in a low voice. "But here's the problem, Conrad. You can't ignore something that's already there, just as we were on the Nostramo, we can't ignore its foul air, foul-smelling acid rain, and ubiquitous murder. Now that we are standing on the Harcosus One, you have seen what the God of Fire has done, and you are going to deny His existence? ”

"I just want to know what you're going to pay again! For this damn shitty chair! Conrad Coates snarled and pointed to the cracked throne, and Carlil saw disappointment in his eyes.

He tried to smile, and this time, he failed.

I don't know yet." In the end, he chose to answer like this. "But I'll tell you."

The voice fell, and Conrad Coetzes vanished. Carlil closed his eyes and sat back. The throne rose and received him just right. The howling cold wind stopped in an instant, and a questioning voice sounded later.

"God. Why help the enemy? ”

Carlil didn't answer, just slowly opened his eyes.

That second had finally come, and the gears of fate that had been stuck in the Covenant began to turn, and from the moment he sat on this throne, he could never turn back. The curtain shook, burning with rage over this scene.

But it couldn't find Carlil, and Tzeentch was kind enough to do everything, including even using a false name to trick the Veil so that it couldn't find Carlil right away.

He was right.

He doesn't need to win, because He doesn't lose at all.

"Gods——! Billions of voices spoke together, and the spirits of the Harkosusse aliens screamed. For centuries, all the xenomorphs who gave their lives to the god of fire were here. They cried, they screamed, they screamed—they questioned.

Question the gods they believe in.

"Why don't you help us? Why don't we light the flames and burn our curse?! Swindler! False gods! ”

"Because I'm not God."

Karil Lohals sat on the throne that was about to be shattered and spoke calmly.

"I am not your god, and I do not act according to your myths. But if you want to hate me and take revenge on me, I will do the same. ”

A roar rang out, and the spirits lunged at him. Faith faded, the throne shattered, and he stood up.

The face of the skeleton clinged to it like a shadow, obscuring the pale face. Pitch-black flames burst into his eye sockets, and the god leapt from the remains of the throne and sprinted toward his dead loyal servants.

There are two more chapters, ten thousand today.

(End of chapter)