There's one thing that's funny to say, but Sevita barely mentions it - well, actually, if the word 'almost' were to be a more complete expression, it could be expanded into 10,000 years.

After such a long time, he had completely forgotten about it, but now he had to bring it up again.

In a very cruel way

With the sound of machinery running, five automated medical arms slipped open his flesh and removed the biomimetic components buried within.

He stared at Carlil Lohals through the tempered glass with a blank face, burying the pain and discomfort just right. Something like bones, steel, and neurovascularity was pulled out of his open chest by the medical arm.

The entrails were throbbing, and the smell of blood filled the entire medical room, making it look like a slaughterhouse.

"Yes, I'm going to get hurt." Yago Sevitaleone shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth. "Sadly, most recruits don't think so."

"So, what about those who already really know you?" Carlil asked.

Sevita sneered, omitting the question in his own way.

His face was twitching, and the medical arms were not injected with any anesthetic, they sliced through his flesh and bones, removing all the machines that had been so ingenious with the designer's ingenuity that they piled up on a tray beside him.

Carlil glanced at it and estimated its length and width, but he didn't make a sound, instead turning his gaze back to Sevita.

For Astarte, most of the scars are kept as a sign of honor, while Sevita seems to be more extreme.

His main torso was covered with a dense patch of wounds, large and small, and there was hardly an inch of good flesh, as if the little elves gnawing at his flesh greedily occupied all places.

Obviously, this is not normal.

Sevita has lived for 10,000 years, and his basic abilities as Astarte have not weakened, and his genetically modified metabolic ability is enough for him to completely fade these scars within 10,000 years, and it will never be so terrifying.

Carlil frowned, and pulled his sanity out of his still-vicious and bloody mind, and began to think. It lived up to him, and soon came to a logical inference.

"Is it the reason for the mask?" He asked in a low voice.

"Probably, the think tanks looked for the reason, but they couldn't find any problems. Several medical officers from the Society for Medical Research, named after Dr. Jairziño Guzmán, also came to me to ask if my genes had been mutated. Again, the answer is no problem."

"So, it probably could only be the reason for the mask."

Sevita lowered her head with a smirk, reached out and grabbed a robotic arm, dragging it deep into her abdomen so that it could find a reinforcement that was stuck between its ribs.

The pain forced his muscles to twitch constantly, and the smile on his face was rendered extremely cruel, and his bloody breath hit the glass of the single medical room, casting a mist.

Carlil tilted his head, looked into his eyes, and shook his head slowly.

"How's it going, doctor? Am I still saved? Sevita asked, trembling.

"I'm not a doctor, Yago. You don't have to play the role of a patient, you're not sick and you're not in any physical condition – at least, for now. ”

"It used to be like that." Sevita said with a smile. "But what about my brain? I mean, my heart? If I still have one. ”

He took a step forward, leaned close to the glass, and imprinted his bloody face on it, leaving a bloody face. His breath continued to fog the glass, and his blood washed them away.

"Am I crazy?" The only remnant of the Eighth Legion asked his instructor expectantly.

"Nope." His instructor replied with a grim face. "You're sane and never crazy."

Sevita burst out laughing at this, and he raised his hand and pointed to the right.

"Everything you need to know is in the office, instructor. Please take a look first, I want to familiarize myself with my resurrected body, lest I look like a brainless zombie at the banquet at night."

Carlil nodded at him.

"I understand that you want to ask me for some advice, but I can't help you, Yago. After tonight, you will sink in your dreams. ”

Sevita didn't say anything, just took a deep breath, and the radiance of psionic energy escaped from every pore of him, almost turning him into a living torch.

He grunted, and the tempered glass darkened, and cascading armor plates descended from the rear, obscuring everything. Carlil stopped and listened, hearing the sound of cutting, shattering bones, and a muffled howl.

How similar. He thought, and then turned away.

He didn't have to think to know which room Sevita was referring to, but despite this, the Nightfall still stirred up the cold wind to show him the way.

Its engines roared in steel and gold, and the elevated readings at this moment would most likely have puzzled the sailors. Carlil hopes they don't get too deep into it, as anything that has to do with chaos tends to drive people crazy.

Yes, he would not deny that the Nightfall had long since been completely tainted by the forces of Chaos.

The difference is only in that it.

He stopped, and a surging darkness roared from the end of the hallway, enveloping him. Five seconds later, it quietly dispersed, revealing a door he knew all too well.

Okay, okay.

Carlil smiled wryly, a little distressed by the personality of a Glorious Queen ship.

At this moment, the door suddenly slipped open, and the scene behind it inevitably made him a little trance.

The eight flags inside are still in their rightful place, and although they have worn out unsightly, the emblems of the various Dalian regiments from the Legion period are still clearly visible—but instead of being in the form of flags, they have been carved into steel with knives.

He was silent for a moment, straightened the neckline of his black robe, and then stepped in.

Of the three chairs placed in the corner, only one of the human-sized ones remained in place, and the other two had found a corner of each of the long gold tables.

Countless documents and data boards were piled up on the long table, and more filing cabinets were piled up behind the desk.

They couldn't have been the sum of the paperwork that Sevita had been doing for 10,000 years, and there must have been a place like a warehouse somewhere in the corner of the Nightfall, but there must have been stacks of these filing cabinets that he thought were the most important.

So, when he was doing paperwork for the last 10,000 years, he had to think about something other than just thinking about them. That is, whether the matter is important enough to be kept in a filing cabinet so that it can be seen one day in the future when someone returns.

Carlil walked towards them.

There were fifteen rows of filing cabinets, each with fifteen compartments, which was a bit large for him, but overall it was still within the acceptable range.

Carlil reached out and put his hand on the handle of the first drawer of the first filing cabinet, the chill seeping down the bandage to the tip of his finger, causing another gentle pain.

In pain, he pulled out the drawer. Surprisingly, there are no packed files or data boards inside.

Carlil stood on tiptoe and fumbled with his hands, his fingertips touching two weighty objects. Rectangular in shape, with the softness and thinness of paper

He took them out.

There is no doubt that these are two letters, both of which are contained in envelopes.

One is his former handwritten letter, addressed to Conrad Coetzes. The other was not, and he was silent for a moment, then put back the letter he had written, and pushed it back into the drawer.

Now, all he has left is a letter. It was black with a dull glow, and a line of pale gold floral letters lingered in the center of the envelope.

"To my son, and to my father."

He opened the letter, and the white paper fell into his hand, almost covering his face. When he completely spread out the letter, it directly covered his entire upper body.

The paper is soft, not rough, and there are no other marks on the surface other than creases. It's been 10,000 years, and the letter can't be unscathed. Obviously, it has probably stayed in a static position for the past few days

Carlil took a deep breath, threw these extraneous thoughts out of his mind, walked to the porthole, and began to read the letter under the gaze of the dark stars.

"Never expect me or him to come back, Yago Sevitalyon."

"Yes, I'm going to start with this sentence that destroys your mind. I know you'll be leading the way in anticipating our return, but I'm telling you that neither of these things is likely to happen in the worst-case scenario. ”

"And the galaxy we live in is the worst kind of place, and Binostramo has been more than it. So, I want you to leave all your luck and all your hopes, and I want you to treat us as dead. ”

"Of course, I know you won't do that."

"You're stubborn, Sai, just like me. But you are a little different from me, and my stubbornness stems from the duties that the Emperor has designed for me, that is, my nature and instincts. ”

"I am a paranoid judge, and the world may not be black and white for me, but some things must be evil, and some people must die. You're different, you've inherited my paranoia, but you've added a little bit of your own. ”

"You're the best person to lead them after we're gone, not to say I'm disappointed in your brothers. On the contrary, I couldn't be happier with them, just as I am with you. ”

"The reason why I chose you to be this unfortunate person is only because only you can bear this fate."

"So, try to accept it, just as I did when I accepted the duties given to me by the Emperor."

"Alright, now that we're down to business, here's a little advice from my personal point of view."

"About your psionic talents: one day, the spell that sealed them will be completely unraveled, like being bombarded by an extermination order, and there will be no dust left, and you must be fully prepared to face that day."

"By the end of that day, the world before you will be very different, and your familiar perspective will disappear completely, replaced by an illusion unique to the superhuman. Yes, you will become something more superhuman than Astarte. ”

"It's going to take a long time for you to get used to, don't think you're going to learn how to manipulate that new body in a very short time, you can't do it, not even Karil Lohals."

"About the Governance Legion: Well, maybe I shouldn't use the word Legion anymore."

"At the time I write this letter, I'm still on my way back to Terra. Robert Killiman's idea hadn't even been born yet, but I had foreseen the word warband. ”

"I've always seen a lot of things I don't really want to see, but, Warband. Seems pretty good too. In the future, you will be scattered all over the galaxy, and the Astarte army of the Legion's size will not be able to sustain it. ”

"You have to spread out your forces and act as a group of firefighters who are fighting fires, not the soldiers who were once united in one place. This is a helpless move, but it can be regarded as conforming to the trend of the times. ”

"One man cannot fight against the vicissitudes of the world, unless you are like my two fathers. However, even they have only won us a glimmer of light. So, you have to try to accept it, preferably from now. ”

"I still want to write something, Sai, but I don't seem to have anything to say to you."

"Correction: There are still any."

"I consider you my pride, Yago Savitarion. You are the mortal continuation of my life. ”

"While every father thinks of their son in this way, you need to understand that I am not so proud of you for your future achievements. As early as the day you became the 1st Reserve, I understood that you belonged to the 8th Army Corps and were my son. I'm so proud of each and every one of you. ”

Carlil couldn't help but smile.

He looked up and looked in Sevita's direction. His gaze pierced through the thick steel, steam-filled pipes, and rumbling machinery to reach the infirmary with precision.

Five Think Tanks were standing beside Yago Sevitaleon, psionic light filling the room.

He lowered his head and turned the page.

"It's your turn, father."

"What shall I leave you with? At first, I wanted to write something that would move you. But I think you'll be crazy by then, and you'll become a wild man who can't read, so forget it. ”

"Then, I want to make you laugh at a joke that makes you laugh, but what if you become a wild man who can't read? Who's going to tell you this joke? I'm afraid that even Sevita can't tell it, only I can. ”

"Also, I can't see the future clearly, I don't know what the future holds. Maybe that's a good thing, too, if I see something too dark, maybe I'll change my mind now. ”

"Well, so be it, it's not helpful to talk too much, especially for you. You can probably guess what I'm trying to say, so I'm not going to be bored here. I'm leaving, father. ”

"My brothers are calling me, and they need my wisdom - ha! It's funny, they don't know yet, I'm crazy. ”

"Anyway, thank you, Karil Lohals."

Carlil put away the letter and shook his head, a glimmer of moonlight creeping away from the depths of his eyes.

He smiled and walked to his desk.

(End of chapter)