Destiny Steel

Pharmacist's workshop

Recruit dormancy cabin

The working lights of the sleeping pod dimmed, and when the negative pressure lock was lifted, it hissed in all directions, and a milky white cloud of cryogenic gas overflowed from the hatch cover, gradually dissipating on the floor until it turned into a faint mark of water.

The newcomer opened his blue eyes.

The turquoise psionic light filled it, making his eyeballs resemble molten star cores.

There is no focus.

The curtain fluctuates gently.

Far away can be heard the sound of birds' beaks and claws rustling and laughing.

A faint golden candle flame.

A black shadow that seemed to have a feather swept past its eyes.

Julius, who had just woken up, lay there, blinking suspiciously.

Psionic light flickered from his eyes.

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"Well, that's good. Next, hold your right hand and jump with your left leg, well, that's it. Hong Suo took the data board and asked the other party to do the test action, recording some data from time to time, "How do you feel?" ”

"Not bad. But my eyes weren't feeling good just now, but now they're better, I think. The blonde Julius replied, stomping his armored feet on the ground in a strange way.

"What? Is there anything wrong with the leg armor? The apothecary turned his chair and prepared to summon the Armoured Servants.

The newcomer shook his head awkwardly, "Ah no, Master Hongsuo, I just think that today's power armor makes the body very relaxed. ”

The corners of the former war blacksmith's mouth curled into an extremely slight arc, "Of course, I have had people adjust according to your strength. Because your physical fitness is indeed very outstanding, and my father, the War Leader, mentioned to me that even if you look at the galaxy, your original genetic combination is a rare and perfect arrangement that is unique in billions, and I guess he must be talking about more than just your psionic power. ”

Julius—who woke up earlier than the rest of his companions, as Hunso's first study—sat down beside the apothecary, not unaware of what was happening, but as Perturabo had predicted, the Dorne cubs were now well adjusted to their next "Silver Skull" after the genetic seed fusion and hypnosis training.

He had been shown the training rooms, officers' canteens, allotted rooms, and other facilities, and although they called themselves the Lost Warbands of the Expedition, the recruits secretly praised the piety of the monks in their hearts, for the church seemed to be the best-maintained and up-to-date place in the entire Warband's monastery, which made Julius let go of a vague sense of concern.

The veterans of the warband, who had not been replenished with new blood for a long time, were scarce, and although they all looked tired, untalkative, and fierce, they were generally okay; In addition to the traditional gladiatorial cages, popular entertainment in the warbands included "online simulations" and "real-time wargame model battle deductions" that Julius had first heard of, the last of which was especially valued by veterans, who would hold such events in the Hall of the Twelve-Parliament, where the venue was a huge tabletop sand table with characters using very elaborate, painted miniatures to refer to and fight.

In contrast, Julius still prefers to stay with Honso, not just because of the more similar body shape - in fact, Soltaron is also a good person, the second company commander has visited them a few times, and his rock-solid strength has helped Julius stabilize an excessively high experimental reading - but Honso does feel more like a "brother" to him.

Hong Suo didn't agree to such a small gesture of secretly rubbing together, but he didn't object either, acquiescing to the little cub's behavior that was actually quite out of line in the war gang, and secretly surprised that he didn't want to cut them open and stuff them in or grind them into minced meat so much.

He packed his tools and led Julius down the hallway to the battleship's Hall of Omens, a space designed for the Prophet's Think Tank and psionic advisors.

"Come, lie down on this circle, today our witch-prophet brother Emenut has sent me a message, he wants to test your psionic level and direction."

"Then why didn't he come by himself?"

"He'll be here in about 10 standard minutes, and I'm going to give you some pre-start physiological monitoring."

The prophet Amenut, Julius searched in his memory, and immediately matched the name with the long-haired black monk wearing the staff of the think tank armor, ah, it was this master, he looked a little out of place with other veterans, but the think tanks and pharmacists are a special group, and the division of labor is different, this situation should be normal, right?

"Speaking of which, Master Hong Suo, is there any news about the appointment of the Tenth Company Commander?" The blonde recruit, enduring the sensation of electrodes lining up on his body, decided to take the risk and inquire about the topic at his own importance, "I hope to be a kind, strict, and experienced monk to lead us ......"

"That's up to you, boy, don't ask what you shouldn't, now close your eyes and let me test how well your nerve knots work."

Well, may the Emperor bless us.

Julius closed his eyes and prayed in his heart.

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"What? Did you really decide that? Lamizan looked up from the pile of scrolls and datapads, and countless new messages were beating on the black moonstone iris. You can't just walk away and leave all this work to me—Perturabo! My Peturabo! Oh! Why have you forsaken me? ”

"Your **** will use my vocal cords to make this operatic aria-like sound, and in a few years, I will immediately jump out of the airlock of Iron Blood!!"

The Border Shepherd Demon Primordial gritted its teeth and roared at its body, "It's better to hear this than to hear the roo!" My hairs are standing on end with goosebumps. Again! Ramizane Kalosini! You should also get used to working hours and efficiency instead of fishing and developing pet repellents and more Reka coffee recipes all day long! ”

"Okay, okay, did you really decide to do it?" Lamizane's expression looked like he had noticed that the emperor was telling him, "Machado and I have decided, and it is up to you to sit in this golden toilet."

"I've been in the palace for 10,000 years, and I want to go out and walk more." Bian Mu unceremoniously pushed a dozen new pending data into his body and the processing link of LOGOS.

"MY WILL IS IRON."

As he spoke, he wagged his big furry tail and jumped into the special dreadnought cockpit where he was putting the finishing touches on it.

Lamizan looked at him and folded his arms, "(Gutera swears), I have to say, it's hell, Peturabo is going to be the commander of the tenth company (the master of recruits). ”