Yago Sevitaleone noticed that he was shaking uncontrollably.

His face was covered with burn marks, as was his armor. There was still dark smoke billowing from the cracks between the steel, stimulating his keen sense of smell, making his eyes ach and he could barely see.

But Sevita didn't care about these things, he had only just regained consciousness, and now, the first and most important question he had to deal with was called - Where am I?

yes, where is he?

He lowered his head and looked around. The pale white sky was shining with an unusual light, and he was at the top of a cliff, with a terrible mud made of blood under his feet.

Sevita was in a slight trance, and it was only then that he realized that he had two weapons in his hands.

In his right hand was the Chainsaw Halberd, but not the one he was using now. In the left hand was a combat dagger from the adjutant of the 1st Company, Moletz.

Or rather, from the former Adjutant of the 1st Company, Moletz.

He looked at the battle dagger and was silent as he stared at the dark flames burning on its jet-black blade, but a voice came from his ears, which seemed out of breath and out of breath, with a strong smile in it.

The voice belonged to Erebus.

"Now, it's just you and me, dear Yago. Terra has been shattered for a century and a half, but you still don't have any memory. Look what you have done, chase me as you go, and you have a hundred of your brothers killed for it, and their deaths will be counted on you. ”

Sevita looked up at him and didn't speak. His sanity was rapidly returning, and he fully understood where he was now—none of this was real, but a brutal war he had already experienced, an echo of a memory or a repetition of something.

In short, it won't be real.

In other words, the Erebus standing in front of him was nothing more than an illusion of the past.

From this point of view, Sevita sees no reason to fight.

In the next second, he pounced and completely dismembered the shadow in the most brutal way.

He doesn't care about the reason.

The world began to spin, completely mixing the sky, the cliffs, the corpses, and the severed limbs of Erebus into a crazy vortex of unclear colors. Sevita stood in the middle of the vortex, expressionless.

He even opened his blood-stained hands, allowing the vortex to engulf him completely.

What else is there to say? Something similar has probably been repeated dozens of times. He killed Erebus again and again, from the farthest reaches of the galaxy to some of the forests of Caliban, from near the moons of Nostramo to the front of the fleet that saved the Star Lord

In the real world, these killings never happened, he didn't kill Erebus, he could only watch the bastard escape again and again.

But here, in this tormented, sinking illusion, Erebus was killed by him again and again.

What is this?

Standing in the vortex of madness, Sevita couldn't help but let out a wild laugh.

There's nothing he can do to resist the urge to laugh, and if it's a joke, then it's ironic, ridiculous, crazy, and, most importantly, it's not funny.

The whirlpool dissipated, blood stained, a severed hand, and half of his face torn apart by the power claws stood in front of him.

"You've failed." He said indistinctly.

The wind swept from behind him, nearly engulfing his voice. At his feet lay many corpses, some demons, some Nightblade, and many more innocent dead civilians.

Sevita stared coldly at it all, the edge of the world's blur beginning to blur as his memories began to blur. What had been an iron-gray ground was now a rough concrete floor, and the walls had turned from whitish gray to trenches with peepholes

The artillery roared loudly, venting its existence. The sky was set ablaze by flames, the clouds cleared, and bombers whizzed by, turning the ground into a burning hell.

Yago Sevitaleon is in hell and stares at Erebas.

"I won! Again! ”

Erebus coughed and raised his arms, and a portal slowly formed behind him. An ugly, strange smile on his mutilated face was slowly being born, and Sevita could see the process clearly.

He even knew what was going to happen next—in half a second, he would attack, and he would try to destroy the portal that Erebus had called.

But this was no longer possible, so he changed his strategy and wanted to enter the portal with Erebus.

Yes, at that time, Sevita had gone mad, or rather, he hadn't really been awake at all in the past 10,000 years. This crazy idea was a perfectly feasible and legitimate plan in his mind, but it also failed to succeed.

The reason was only a psionic glow that flickered from behind Sevita, and a child whose neck was choked by that psionic energy.

Erebus stood at the edge of the portal, and at this moment, two seconds had passed. And Sevita didn't move.

"Come on." He said softly. "Come on."

Sevita still didn't move.

He was in the past—he is now—they didn't move.

So Erebus laughed.

"You, you. Always. They do the most cruel things, master the most cruel skills, but each of them has a ridiculously weak human nature. Especially you, Yago. ”

"If it were your cousin standing here today, I'm afraid I'd have died long ago. They don't care if the child is dead or alive, O High Heaven, do you remember what I did? ”

Erebus pointed to himself earnestly.

"Don't you remember? Who is behind all this, who has plunged countless worlds into flames, and who has made your genetic father give up his human body. You're giving up your chance to avenge them, and that might be your only chance, Yago. ”

"What would Karil Lohals and Conrad Coates think if they knew? Are you willing to give up all this for the sake of a child? ”

He laughed maniacally, turned and walked into the portal, dropping the child to the ground. Sevita turned and ran over and picked him up gently, watching as shards of internal organs poured out of his throat.

In three years, the child will become a member of the Nightblade.

Like his brothers, he will have a supreme hatred for Erebas, and will hunt him down for eternity. However, at this moment, he is just an ignorant child who has lost his hometown, his relatives, and everything.

Sevita stared at the child through her former eyes, not saying a word.

He's dead, at least in his world, in the future, the child is dead—but not now.

So, what if I don't recruit him into the Nightblade? What if I ignored his life and rushed forward and tore Erebas's chest open?

Sevita sighed deeply.

There are no ifs, there are no ifs in this world. The Vortex reappeared, engulfing him and taking him to Epsilon III, Salideraks, the Moon of Nalral, and a battle fortress on Calfin.

He hunted Erebus in countless places, and many times, he came close to victory. His claws had clenched Erebas's two hearts, but no matter which time, he had failed to complete his revenge.

Sevita blames herself for all of these failures, but this is not the case, the truth is that Erebus has had an infinite number of divine favors for these 10,000 years. No matter what he wants to do, this superimposed divine favor will help him unreservedly.

If he wants to plunge a world into darkness, then its sun will go out. Funny battleship engine failure chain impact, endless demons appearing on the surface of the sun, mysterious virus capable of rotting the sun

Even a group of singers from far and wide across the galaxy are wandering to perform dark rituals on their ships. They will choke a sun and send it to the six rings of indulgence, making it a small sacrifice to the god of pleasure's alter ego.

Something like this has happened so many times, enough to numb and despair anyone who knows the whole picture. Yago Sevitaleón did not, and the two similar emotions had completely dissipated when he felt Conrad Coetze's departure in person.

He knew what he was up against—he wasn't fighting Erebas, he was fighting a hand in the physical universe and the Ancient Four extending out of subspace.

In their place, this hand reverses right and wrong in the material world, manipulates people's hearts, ignites the world, and destroys hope

In other words, Yago Sevitaleon knew that he had to fight God, and that he had to find a way to win the last time.

But what he can't win, he can't win anyway. How can he do what even Karil Lohals can't do?

However, he could not sit idly by and watch everything happen, and the wails of the dead would keep him awake at night. So, even though he knew it was a war that would not be won, he still participated in it.

Sevita opened her eyes as the whirlpool rose, watched the whirlpool dissipate.

The whirlpool continued to rise and dissipate in his eyes.

In that crazy figuration, 900 million people are being tied to stone pillars, and something is pouring grease on them and then igniting them with flames. Eight hundred million people have been decapitated and stripped of their spines. Father, son, mother and daughter, all died.

Seven hundred million people are infected with the disease, their epidermis is rotting, their internal organs are gushing out of their throats, and their blood vessels are covered with pus. There are 600 million people who kill each other in extreme pain, enjoy each other's flesh, lick each other's blood on the ground, and do all three things at the same time.

And that's just a drop in the ocean.

Standing in the whirlpool, Sevita stared at everything in front of her, watching this eternal torment, and there was no joy or sorrow in her heart.

He still doesn't understand what Conrad Coetzes threw him here for, but he'll take it all. These failures stem from his incompetence, and he has to take responsibility and pay for everyone who has died because of Erebath in the past 10,000 years.

If it weren't for him, they wouldn't have had to die. If his heart is desperate enough, they will still be alive

Once again, the whirlpool slowly dissipated in his trembling thoughts. The ashes of time and the wails of the dead came to her face, turning everything into a choking sandstorm that fascinated Sevita's eyes.

He covered his face and took a slow, deep breath in the darkness and the coldness of his hand armor that didn't have any need at all.

He was still shivering, but the wind and sand had stopped, and it was very quiet in all directions. Sevita lowered her hand and saw a young boy being held up by chains.

The child did not notice him, nor did he notice the myriad shadows crouching in the darkness around him. Sevita glanced at him and walked out of the darkness, but the boy ignored him and looked in the other direction.

There, another Yago Savitarion was slowly coming out of the darkness, his chest and abdomen pierced by five sharp claws, dripping with blood and horrific eyes.

Sevita stared at them, not saying a word.

The child who was hung was his childhood, but who was the bruised warrior?

He didn't remember, he didn't even remember how long he had been in this maelstrom, his spirit was splitting, everything he had had had already been shattered in the endless tearing.

There were too many contradictory things in the depths of his memory to roar at each other and fight each other. Did he kill Erebas? Or not? Did he emerge victorious in the battle with him? Even if it's just once?

Did he really save anyone?

"You have it, Sai." Konrad Coetzes said. "You've saved a lot of people, it's just that you haven't realized it yet."

Sevita turned his head and, without surprise, told his father, "I can't see. ”

"That's because you don't dare to see it." Coetzes replied mildly. "You've been in the dark for so long that you can't even stand any light. Even if it's just moonshine, you feel like it's going to burn your fragile conscience"

He laughed, baring his fangs and eyes, like a black hole that had destroyed everything. As he had spoken, the Moonlight Crown began to glow above his head.

It was a light faint enough to be called a light source, but it made Sevita feel a burning pain. His skin began to dissolve under his armor, and so did his presence.

Sevita didn't make a sound in such intense pain, he just looked at his genetic father and wanted an answer.

"The answer is—" Coates stepped forward, held out a finger, and poked his forehead lightly. "—no dead person blames you, you are sinless and completely innocent. Yago Sevitalyon. ”

Behind him, in the burning hall, Yago Sevitaleon trembled and grabbed Yago Sevitaleon. His chest and abdomen were pierced by five sharp claws, and he vomited blood, but his eyes were as bright as two stars.

His voice began to merge with Conrad Coetze.

"This is the moment." He, or rather, they, opened his mouth gently. "You will remember everything at this moment."

The thunder roared, and the Temple of Bones dissipated, the vortex enveloping him for the last time, but Conrad Coetze's voice always echoed in his ears.

The Night King's voice pierced through the darkness and pierced all barriers, stabbing Sevita's brain with the precision of a knife he once held in his hand, reverberating deafeningly through his skull.

"Kill him."

Who? Kill whom?

The answer is clear.

The darkness faded, but the scorching moonlight remained with it. All around is a ruin, and countless undead are standing around every corner. They used to have different identities and different names when they were alive, but now no one cares about it anymore.

Sevita had a discernment, but his eyes were blurry, and only a shadow remained clear, or rather, a bloody man.

The man's skin was covered in twisted scriptures, and his mouth was wide open, his eyelidless eyes staring at the dark night sky. The glossy priest's robe had been thoroughly soaked with blood, and perhaps more than that, the garment had actually become his skin.

His skin had been peeled off, but it fit so tightly that it didn't really fall off

And, he's still breathing.

The undead let out a boiling roar.

Sevita understood, and then he smiled.

I can't ask for it, I can't ask for it.

He walked towards him, each step firmer and heavier than the last. He approached Erebus, who was lying on the ground, and raised his right fist. Lifted vertically, the muscles are completely tensed, and every joint is completely locked

Sevita looked at him, then waved her arm. Inertia, strength, and locked joints turned his arm into a literal knife that slashed deep into Erebus's body.

The pure evil thing that called itself the hand of fate spat out a large mouthful of blood, and its cloudy eyes suddenly became sober.

He looked at Sevita and habitually showed a sneer: "You're finally here, dear Yago"

Sevita kept her mouth shut and waved her arms, only to loosen the lock on her joints a little this time.

His arm was embedded in Erebus's body like a whip, and the whipping was so painful, cruel, and bloody. Even Erebus screamed at it.

He gasped for air, the pain amplified by the force completely destroying his ability to think at this moment, turning him into a puddle of mud that collapsed on the ground. Sevita looked down at him coldly, not the slightest pleasure in her heart.

It's not enough, it's not enough for something like Erebus.

He looked up at the undead. They stood in every corner of the ruins, and they seemed to have no concrete image, only vague concepts.

They were once civilians, soldiers, Astartes, men, women, children, but also fathers, mothers, sons, daughters. They are an overlooked part of the Empire's war report, cold numbers that no one cares about.

And now, they are standing in front of Sevita for real.

He blinked, and their image became clearer.

"How long have you waited for me?" Sevita asked.

"For a long time." One of the undead replied. "But the wait was worth it, Erebus's death."

Sevita smiled slightly.

The undead swarmed like a tidal wave, unhindered through the ruins, through Sevita's body, to Erebas, to encircle him, and then they reached out their hands.

Some of the hands were thin and withered, so pale that they seemed to be degenerate. Some hands are wearing iron armor, and they are so strong that they can crush human bones with one hand. Armed with boundless hatred, the arms landed on Erebus's body one by one and began to tear apart.

First it was skin, then flesh and bones. His nose and eyes were held in his hands, and his teeth and tongue were trampled under his feet. He couldn't possibly have such a huge mass that he could get a piece of the pie for every soul here, but it was what it was.

Everyone Erebus had ever murdered now held his heart and spat on his countenance. They held the prestigious Apostle of Darkness aloft, trampled this venerable and terrible hand of fate under their feet, and began to roar.

In the sacred name of humanity and vengeance, roar at subspace.

It was just a simple roar, without words, but the resentment and pleasure in it spread to every corner of the chaotic tide in an instant.

The angry man in the Crimson Carnage, the giant bird in the magnificent crystal, the fat old man churning the soup pot, the monoecious god in his hand and the brooding god in his hand, and every demon under their command heard the roar.

Then there was Erebas's screams and begs for mercy.

"Leave me alone!"

He screamed without an image, his voice shattered to the end of the number. He couldn't maintain any manners, he couldn't even feel ashamed of the current situation, his thinking ability was deprived, and only the primitive desire to survive was left.

He is a pure evil thing, who does not know how to create, only how to destroy and corrupt the good things. He should have rotted in the mud, but because of this distorted desire, he has come to this day step by step and has become what he is today.

He screamed at the gods.

"Please save me!" He cried out in tears. "Please, gods, save your lowly believers! Let him out of the sea of suffering! ”

The angry man snorted coldly, rebuked him coldly for his cowardice, and then strode away without any regret.

The giant bird laughed and withdrew its power support, letting his shards turn from flesh to mud, wings flapping and joyful.

The fat old man didn't even look at him, still stirring the pot intently, as if he had never heard his voice.

Only the androgynous, the unusually handsome god of pleasure, smiled and shook his head, giving a clear answer.

"You're so ugly." He said in disgust. "I don't want to touch something ugly like you."

And then the grace of God was broken, and it was withdrawn, and it was worn away. Erebus's sanity was completely distracted by the revenants in the next second. His flesh was still clutched tightly in their hands, but his mind and his unprotected soul were tied to a stone pillar that had been erected.

His figure was extremely small and ugly, and he looked like a maggot in a white robe and writhing like a maggot. He looked at the undead around him in horror and wanted to ask for mercy, but he couldn't say a word.

These small beings that he didn't even care about in the past, these mediocre souls that he didn't even bother to pay too much attention to. They died because of him, and now, they have come to him.

Those who were once high above are now screaming and begging for mercy in a low voice, but will those who have begged for mercy really let him go?

The answer is no, he will endure eternal torment here, and he will remain awake until the last person he has ever mutilated will have no more grievances.

Sevita finally let out a soft, gentle, and comfortable laugh.

——

Carlil stretched out his right hand and used two fingers to pierce a sizzling Grax steak. He lowered his head and carefully studied the chop, which was still dripping with juice.

Regardless of which Grax this piece of meat once belonged to, it must have loved sports during its lifetime, otherwise it would not have such a firm and tender flesh. And then there's the salt and pepper, which is known as Terra, but it's also a bargain.

They are stuck in the gaps between the flesh and the high temperature, which in turn mixes with the fat to form a wonderful smell that is unbearable to the appetite

With a soft sigh, Carlil used his shoulder to move his right hand and move the steak to a man who had suddenly sat up from the iron bed.

"Long time no see, Yago." He said. "Would you like a Grax steak?"

The man took off his mask, tossed it aside, opened his stiff jaw, and bit the flesh into his mouth. He was eating like a wild beast, with his head down, holding the pieces of meat in his hands, gnawing, tearing, and swallowing.

The juice splashed, and some more crystalline liquid slowly fell down the cheekbones at this moment, turning into small, crystal-clear ice droplets in the cold of the Nightfall, and finally fell to the ground, shattering.

"Eat slowly." Carlil whispered. "Phil just doesn't like to eat steaks, and never said he hated them."

Sevita stopped chewing, swallowed the last bite of meat, and jumped off the iron bed. He straightened up, frost falling through the cracks in his armor, eyes staring at Carlil unblinking.

"Do you have a part, instructor?" He asked suddenly.

"If I said no, you probably wouldn't believe me, because you already know everything."

"yes." Sevita nodded expressionlessly, looking down at the mask that had fallen to the ground.

"It's just that I didn't expect this mask to have the function of splitting the wearer's memory, how many people have I met in the wasteland in the past 10,000 years? Why have I forgotten so many times? ”

Carlil shook his head and said, "You're asking someone who is least likely to know the answer, Yago. As for it, I think that splitting memory is not a function of it, but a side effect. ”

"No matter how powerful it is, it still exists in the material realm. To make it work, you have to give something. It just so happens that one of the strongest emotions in your heart is hatred, but-"

"—I hate myself." Sevita said, smirking in. "It's funny, instructor, who is this constant self-loathing coming from?"

He asked, staring at Carlil.

It's a philosophical question."

"So, can you answer that?"

"As you know, I'm not much of a philosopher." Carlil said, pulling his fingers, inviting darkness and stepping into it.

The mask fluttered up and flew into the edge of his bulging corners. Sevita smiled as he watched his back engulf in darkness little by little.

"Welcome back, Carlil." He paused.

"You're welcome, Yago." The man in the darkness replied, his voice as soft as it had been 10,000 years ago.

(End of chapter)