Why Terra was shattered over the course of 10,000 years, and what happened on the day Terra was shattered—these two events are the ultimate questions that plague all historians, devout believers, and simply do-gooders.

They worked tirelessly and desperately to find the truth of these two things.

In the investigation of historians, the incident can be largely attributed to the rebellion of the Great Rebels Horus Lupecar and Loja Aurelian, the repeated provocations of Alfaris, and the unscrupulous invasion of the Chaos Enemy.

However, these are only triggers, and the real reason is still unclear. There are many who have tried to cut through the dust of history and climb the shattered Terra to find clues in the ruins

But none of them came back.

Unlike historians, devout believers try to explain the reasons from a religious point of view. It was the God-Emperor who shattered Terra, because only then could humanity continue to survive.

However, there can never be only one faction of believers.

In some areas, the church of the Emperor of Prayer during the day becomes a meeting place for another group of people after midnight, and during the day, the statue of the Emperor of God and majesty transforms into an eerie ghost dressed in black robes.

In the mouths of this people, it is He who breaks Terra.

But who is He and what God is Him? What did He do? Why did He do this? None of these doubts can be explained, only vague words of three words circulate among what they call 'teachings'.

For example, revenge, judgment and punishment. The high level of untrustworthiness, and the lack of worship of the Emperor and even the obscurity of his statue, have led to the cult being branded as an outright cult within the state religion.

As for the good deeds

They don't speculate, they don't study, they don't pray. They only do one thing.

"Are you ready?!"

"Just throw me down!" Casidorius del Kunas roared. "Hurry up! Otherwise, you'll miss the time! ”

His roar was so violent that it didn't sound like a normal human, and for a moment, his roar almost overpowered the engine roar of the little shuttle.

Its driver cursed and pressed a button on the console. The deck cracked, and Cassitorius del Kunas fell out of the shuttle, appearing in a very dangerous position in the dark night dotted with dark scarlet.

At the same time, the driver's voice came from his headset, with dissatisfaction, in a rough tone, but full of admiration.

"They say you have five hours, Casidorius."

"Totally enough."

He said, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he adjusted his posture and began to fall rapidly.

The wind was blowing in the face, carrying a terrible cold. The combination of the two brings a terrifying low temperature that is enough to make ordinary people freeze to death in an instant, but it has no effect on Casidorius.

There was a faint red glow under his skin, and he exuded intense heat. The hot steam emanated from all around Casidorius's body, forcing the cold to no one's grasp.

The gale sliced through the air like a knife, and his eyes widened in the wind to make sure he hadn't mistaken where he had landed.

He clearly saw a huge ruin.

It was enveloped in darkness, a thick fog escaped, and moonlight from nowhere sprinkled on it, making it pale and eerie. Standing 10,000 years ago and not collapsing even in ruins, Roger Dorn's design is truly amazing.

With a homage to the Fist of the Empire genoplasm, Casidorius activates the jetpack behind his back.

Thankfully, it didn't malfunction due to the low temperatures and high winds like last time, which shows that the mechanical priest of Mars really took his advice. Casidorius sighed contentedly, and descended slowly.

He landed unharmedly in a tower that had lost its top floor. And he didn't waste any time, as soon as he hit the ground, he immediately started running.

The tower's rotting wooden ground and main structure miraculously withstood his furious run, and he ran all the way to its edge, clearly seeing beyond the ruins through the breaches created by the bombardment—a terrifying darkness with no other color in sight.

There is only pure darkness, and it is far beyond the limits of what the human eye can capture.

It's an extreme darkness.

Casidorius habitually gritted his teeth, took a light stick from behind his waist, threw it over, and leaped down.

The height of more than ten meters did not affect his body in any way - this time, he came fully armed and prepared, and he would never be as busy as he was last time.

The light rod fell into the darkness and rolled a few times, but it didn't emit any light. Casidorius, on the other hand, looked down at his right wrist, where the Imperial Aquila glittered on a silver watch.

He pressed the Aquila, and a pale green screen appeared, with a coordinate point clearly indicated on it. He walked forward, fearless into the darkness.

However, as soon as we entered, the temperature began to drop more and more. In just a few seconds, Cassitorius' skin was covered with a thick layer of frost. He didn't care, just kept repeating the act of throwing the light stick and looking down at his watch.

He didn't know anything about his surroundings, but he was able to rely on his watch's guidance to find the light sticks one after another. It was only when he actually found them that Casidorius could see a little bit of light.

The ground was muddy and smelled of blood. Bullet casings and weapons were buried in the dirt mixed with flesh and blood, making it difficult to walk. Ten thousand years later, there is still no one to collect these bones and weapons

Casidorius sighed.

"Four hours and thirty-one minutes," he said, reading a number, shaking his head.

After another eleven minutes, he finally left the dark fog. At this moment, under the gloomy moonlight, which should not have appeared, he finally saw the goal of his trip.

How can you describe this scene?

At least, Cassitorius couldn't describe it in any language. He just shuddered and reached out, fumbled behind his waist, removed his portable camera, and began to take pictures.

In the moonlight, in a ruined corner of Terra's Palace, a ruined Titan rested quietly against the ruins. Its surface was covered in dust, but it wasn't enough to cover a god's machine, so the horrific bullet holes and scorched black from the bombardment left on its surface.

Obviously, it fought to the death.

Unfortunately, Casidorius did not know its exact model or even make out its coat of arms. He wasn't taught these things, and the mechanical priest in charge of dealing with him didn't actually like the Titan very much.

But who cares about him now?

Casidorius bowed respectfully to the Titan before continuing to walk, entering a corner of the palace from under it. But as soon as he entered, he saw many dry bones.

Most of them were mortals like him, their uniforms rotten and hung empty from their bones. Some of the dead had guns in their hands, while others had only knives to use. Casidorius bowed, took a picture, and walked past them.

He passed around a corner and saw a lot of Astartes. Mostly the Fist of the Empire, then the Iron Hand. He silently bent down, saluted and bowed again, then raised his camera.

It was customary for a do-good man like him—or rather, an officially certified explorer—to make a final account of the war dead.

At some point, these photographs would be sent to the regiment or unit in which they had served during their lifetime, and then the work would no longer be Cassitorius' business. Naturally, there will be others digging their names out of history, and it's definitely worth it.

These dry bones had been lying on the shattered Terra for a full 10,000 years, with no honor, and even the troops they had served in could not accurately count the names of each of the dead

After all, most of the troops were rebuilt after the war, and there was nothing in common at all, except for the names and numbers.

And the loyalists don't deserve it.

Casidorius took pictures in silence, one after the other, the monotonous shutter of the camera ringing through the ruins, and the sound of his footsteps. He kept going deeper, without the slightest fear.

Needless to say, why should he be afraid of the heroes who had protected humanity?

Until a sound of footsteps rang out.

Casidorius jerked the camera back on his waist and pulled out the Seiko Plasma pistol equipped by the Martian Mechanics with his backhand.

Fifty-five processes, meticulously cast. Fits in the palm of his hand, opens the mold separately, and is designed just for him. The ingenuity of the Mechanic Cult represents absolute precision and absolute destruction.

Under the barrel of its gun hung the ribbon of the Emperor's Word that the High Priest of the Church had personally baptized for it - why did such a weapon appear in his hands that some of the Astarte warbands might not be able to see one?

The answer is simple.

The quest for Broken Terra has begun slowly and cautiously for four hundred and sixty-six years. Countless people have died for it, but it is totally worth it. They used their lives to bring back the names of the deceased, as well as countless valuable lessons and lessons.

For example, all exploration should not last more than twenty-five hours, and all explorers should be fully armoured and weaponized, such as .

Casidorius slammed the trigger.

The glowing blue light illuminated his face and what was in the darkness.

It was a crimson monster with knotted muscles, and a man stood upright, standing on his back, with two horns on his head, and a sword in hand. It is worth mentioning that its body appears very illusory, almost transparent.

However, Casidorius had no doubts about its authenticity at all—a low roar of disgust erupted from the throat of the last descendant of House Delkunas, followed by a torrent of fierce rebukes.

"Demons!"

The plasma light burst out again, and a single shot hit the vultizen's head. It convulsed and fell, blood strewn all over the floor.

However, this was not the end of the story, as Casidorius began to fire as more demons swarmed from the shadows. The explorer was not the slightest fearless of this, he just opened fire.

Just fire.

This wasn't the first time he had dealt with these so-called 'echoes', he had fought them back in his first explorations.

These demonic reverberations from the bloody battle of 10,000 years ago do not have real life, but are just a remnant of obsession.

Their greed for human flesh and soul endured on the sixty-five fragments of the Holy Terra, and thus created this so-called reverberation.

Compared to real demons, these things are really weak, and they can be dealt with in an instant with a single shot, but the number is really amazing. It took Casidorius twelve minutes to end the battle, and he really didn't know how the soldiers of 10,000 years ago had faced such a demonic tide.

The things that fought him were only echoes, things that were less than a tenth of the strength of the body, and what about them?

The explorer bowed his head in silence and glanced at the dry bones. He put away his gun, took out his camera again, and he began to go deeper. After passing through a few winding corridors, he came across a circular square—at least once it was.

Judging by the stacked crates, and decaying weapons and armor, it was probably used as a makeshift mobilization point 10,000 years ago.

Casidorius raised his hand and took another picture. He was about to leave, there was not much time left, and he had to get back to the evacuation point before the five-hour deadline was up - however, just a second before leaving, he suddenly stopped.

Crate?

He jerked his head and hurried to the stacked boxes in three and two. He bent down and began to observe the chests very intently, and they cast a quiet, decaying gaze at him.

It was quiet, there was no sound, and the air was chilly, without the stench of decay that other ruins should have. Upon closer inspection, Casidorius shuddered to discover something.

The boxes show obvious signs of handling.

Someone – or something – brought them over.

"This is the third rendezvous point." A voice suddenly sounded from behind him. "That's where we mobilized and then distributed weapons."

Casidorius quickly turned, the plasma already in his hand. He thought he was going to see a monster or something like that, but he froze.

He saw a middle-aged man with gray hair, dressed in a blood-stained military uniform, staring at him with his chin raised behind his back as if he were inspecting his subordinates.

"Who are you?" Casidorius asked warily.

"I am Major Sa'd ibn Salah ibn Rashid al-Ratib, a major of the 21st Regiment of the Terra Defense Army." The man slowly spat out a long string of scary names. "You can just call me Major, or Ibn."

Casidorius was silent for a moment, then replied, "A man of good fortune? That's what your name means? ”

"It's only part of the story." The major said. "You seem to be very knowledgeable."

"Me?" The explorer shook his head, but the gun in his hand was still pointed at the Major. "I'm not knowledgeable, I'm a well-known prodigal kid in my family, and I don't know anything but eat, drink, and be merry."

"Family?"

"I'm from the Delkunas family."

The Major pondered for a moment, then nodded knowingly, "That Ronin Merchant Family—it seems that your family is continuing well. ”

"What do you mean?"

"It's been 10,000 years, Delkunas." The major said. "And you're still there, and you still have that gun, so your family is continuing well."

The Major looked at it.

"Seiko level, what a good gun. I've seen a lot of explorers, but they don't have weapons like you do. Your family has partnered with the Mechanics? ”

In-depth cooperation. Said the explorer. "You said you've seen a lot of people like me? What do you mean? ”

"Do I need to be more obvious, Delkunas?" The Major looked at him and shook his head.

To be sure, his well-deserved attitude of overlooking really made Casidorius feel a tooth itch, but he didn't lose his mind because of this anger.

In the same way, he did not let his guard down on the Major's family words, and the plasma remained firmly in his hand.

"Your words are full of hints, and I don't know if they're true or not. But, at least to me, these hints sound like fabricated lies. I don't believe anyone can survive on one of the sixty-five fragments, and I don't believe in—"

Cassitorius was speechless for no other reason, for the Major stepped forward and reached out to grasp the barrel of the plasma. No, maybe you can't say 'hold', but through. The five fingers of the right hand went straight through the barrel and slowly closed into a fist.

"—I didn't survive, Delkunas." The major said. "None of us."

The cold wind blew, and the explorer was stunned for a few seconds. The shock of this incident was really a little violent to him, however, he quickly remembered another thing.

This year is the 466th year since the investigation into Broken Terra began, and it was not uncommon to see ghosts in the past.

Although the general public may not be aware of this matter, most people in organizations such as the Ministry of War, the Mechanical, and even the State Church have a concrete consensus on this matter, that there is indeed a 'haunting' on Terra.

According to the investigative reports that Casidorius had read, the ghosts were nothing more than illusory entities, and at the same time, they were basically non-communicative, and could only repeat some mechanical actions and words.

It is by no means what the Colonel appears to him at this moment, capable of thinking for himself, and even making 'proof' in order to prove something, and

"How do you explain those crates?" Casidorius asked suddenly. "How are you going to explain them, Major? They were transported, and after 10,000 years, the wood should have rotted into slag, but they could still bear the responsibility of carrying heavy loads. ”

"I don't have to explain." The major said.

He turned and stepped into the deep darkness in front of Casidorius, his form completely hidden in it for a moment, but his voice was not. His voice remained calm, even reaching Casidorius' ears with precision.

"You're here for the truth, aren't you?"

"What truth?" The explorer asked knowingly.

"The truth about the day Terra was broken." The major said. "You want to know what it shattered, you want to know what happened that day, and that's what you're here for."

"What's the matter with you?!" Casidorius asked in a loud voice into the darkness.

He couldn't wait for an answer, but he didn't need an answer either, because the world was changing. The ashes on the ground hung upside down, the air began to tremble, and a thin, continuous clicking sound came from the void, resounding clearly in his ears.

Ticking, like the hour hand walking. Casidorius instinctively lowered his head and glanced at his watch. It didn't show the time anymore, and the pale green screen was now frantically and disorderly scribbling through one seemingly inconsequential number after another.

Looking at them, Cassitorius' heart began to beat faster - he could read binary languages, so he knew what the numbers meant when combined.

"Revenge." He struggled to pronounce them. "At the time. Has arrived? ”

"Yes." The major said.

"It came, and then lasted ten thousand years, Casidorius—"

He came out of the darkness, his blood-stained uniform neat and tidy, and an old standard laser gun in his hand. The helmet pressed against his gray hair, and the face was sweating profusely. A blind, bloody red light poured down from their heads, replacing the moonlight.

Suddenly there was a violent sound of footsteps behind them, and Casidorius instinctively looked back to see a group of soldiers charging towards him. He instinctively closed his eyes, the wind was blowing, and nothing happened to him.

They rushed past him, and the explorer turned again in a sluggish manner. As hellfire roared and shattered the dome, the demon clinged to it, laughing and jumping down from the fireball, falling to the ground and slaughtering.

The earthquake trembled, and a group of Astartes in bright yellow armor rushed out of the darkness on the other side and began to fight them. Everything was going into chaos, and Casidorius' ears were full of roars and death.

He stared at everything in front of him in a daze, not knowing how to react, but he saw a large field of hideous flames falling from the sky, scorching the flesh and blood of the demons. A great shadow slowly rose and obscured him.

The explorer looked up blankly and saw a god's machine full of mechanical beauty, every element of which was so beautiful and so powerful—in contrast to its hideous appearance covered in blood at the moment.

The glory of the Messiah stood right before him, roaring with rage, and the mania of the machine soul rushed into Casidorius's eyes as if it were substance through the red light that flashed overhead. He clenched his fists in frenzy, the handle of the plasma pistol creaking in his hand.

"—and that's just the beginning." The major said as he stood beside him. "What you see is just the tip of the iceberg, but it doesn't matter. Look up, Casidorius. ”

According to him, the explorer, who had lost the ability to think for himself, looked up, not even caring where the Major had learned his name.

In the night sky, he saw a scarlet crown. It floats quietly, complete, brilliant, yet uncontrollably suffocating.

"Remember it, Casidorius." The major said calmly. "Twenty-five hours after the start of the Battle of Terra, a god has awakened in Terra."

As his words fell, the sky began to darken.

A flaming warship emerged from the dissipating clouds, its bow resembling a ghost in a black robe, and the crown suspended in the sky appeared almost above its head, as if it were providence.

Subsequently, the battleship began to fall, or rather, to fall - at breakneck speed.

Its hull, painted with the eight-pointed star of Chaos, squeezed tightly against the atmosphere, burning and pressing down, slamming into the ground of Terra with the crush of Tarzan.

Casidorius suddenly began to vomit.

In a terrible tremor that seemed to be the collapse of the heavens, he fell to the ground. The smell of burning was in the air, and his eyes frantically swept around him, and he saw that the ground was cracking, and demons and magma were laughing wildly in the supernatural cracks.

"This ship is called Vengeful Spirit." The major said he was still carrying a gun. "It used to be the flagship of Horus Lupecar."

He paused, as if to mean something.

But not anymore, now, it's a premeditated altar. It has been waiting for a long time in subspace, where there is no concept of time, Casidorius. ”

"Long before the Spirit of Vengeance was not the Spirit of Vengeance, the name it represented had been waiting there. From the beginning of time to the end of time, it is always there, because so are the gods. It is His exclusive altar and will be the only altar ever since. ”

"What the hell are you—" Casidorius struggled to his feet. "—what are you talking about?"

His eyes were red.

"The truth." The major said. "The truth about the day Terra was broken, you wonder why it was broken, and here's why. Physically, this is because the vengeful spirit has struck Terra and brought subspace hexel. It went deep into Terra's core. ”

"But, but." Casidorius clutched his throat and gasped as if he couldn't breathe. "Reinforcements—"

"—Yes, reinforcements." The major laughed. "The loyalists are coming, at all costs. If you have psionic talents, you can see them now. ”

"You'll see the white-scarred Khan and his son, covered in blood, following the vengeful spirit aboard Terra."

"You will see St. Giles and his angels tossed from the Signus system to Terra by a subspace storm."

"You'll see a bruised lion walking towards Terra with the Dark Angels from the forests of Caliban."

"You'll see a huge fleet coming from the Extreme Field, unimpeded. Ultramarines, Iron Warriors, Death Wards, War Hounds, Raven Guards, Salamanders, and the fate of Terra's Midnight Blade. ”

"But."

The major raised his gun.

"Until they arrive, this place will have to be defended by us, Cassidorius."

The explorer froze, and a terrible conjecture was born in his mind.

"Five hours, it's your time, Casidorius." The major said. "And we're 10,000 years, every night for 10,000 years, we've been fighting here."

"We accept our fate, and from the twenty-fifth hour we will fight forever. We die and are reborn the next morning. Every night, we travel from the future to the past. ”

"We shape the past from the future, and that's what we're here for. Terra is destined to be shattered, but also destined to be an altar, and its time is chaotic, so we can fight for hope again and again"

A group of people walked in front of them.

The armor was torn, the uniforms were stained with blood, and the dry bones were reborn. The Fists of the Empire saluted him, the Iron Hands saluted him, the soldiers saluted him—Casidorius unconsciously opened his mouth wide, tears flowing.

He wanted to ask, why am I worthy of such treatment? How do I know this?

Then, one hand held the handful of plasma.

Hold it in your hand, hold it in your hand.

"Because of this gun." The major said.

"What?" Casidorius asked, his lips trembling.

"As far back as you can remember, the exploration of Broken Terra began four hundred and sixty-six years ago. However, for us it is not. ”

"Since 10,000 years ago, it started. You saw those floating fortresses on the way here, didn't you? Each warband participates, building along the shards of Terra in an icy vacuum"

"All the fighting, just for today, Casidorius, just for you. That's why we'll show up before your time comes. You're the fifty-five thousand five hundred and fifty-fifth explorer who boarded Terra, and you're carrying this gun. ”

"It's a winning game, it's a given future, it's been forged from the past."

He reached for it, and Casidorius looked at him in a daze, unable to utter a word.

The Major saluted him and slipped a gem into his hand.

"I'll make the most of it." He said solemnly. "For humanity."

As the words fell, everything dissipated, and Casidorius sat up abruptly—a crowd of people standing in front of him staring at him, huge or small, or clad in steel armor or robes, and he didn't care.

He spread out his right hand.

A gem sparkles quietly there.

The name of the major in this chapter comes from the book group friend David, Sa'd ibn Salah ibn Rashid al-Ratib, who can be understood as the unchanging son of the right path, the son of righteousness, the man of good fortune. Thanks for his advice.

I'm sorry for the late update, that's all for today, a lot has happened lately and I'm not in great shape. I'm sorry that this chapter may not have the desired effect. In addition, there is actually a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter, and if you are interested, you can sort it out, and I will add more if you guess it all.

(End of chapter)