A faint mist shrouded the battlefield in the smoke of gunpowder.

The afterglow of an artificial sunset and the sparks that explode from time to time make the fog look colorful and ethereal.

"Father......! …… Ahem, ahem! ”

The figure that stumbled out of the pharmacist's workshop was also covered with several scattered infusion cables.

The haggard, gray face of the Commander of the Seventh Army, the forty-second company, Felix Cassandra, emerged from the fog like a ghost.

The Space Marine, with incredible tenacity and perseverance, had just forced his way out of the medical chamber and made his way to his Genetic Father, holding only his twin blaster tightly in his hand.

The company commander of the Imperial Fist shook his head, his vision blurred.

The intense tinnitus and headache must have affected his judgment, how could his original body, which was as majestic as a mountain and firm as a rock, become so short...... Neither is the armor...... Gorgeous golden armor.

But there's nothing wrong with the natural, subtle, inscribed in each spiral, of a more additional chain of genetic codes.

At this distance, Dorn could see Cassandra's pupils sometimes shrink like pinpoint, sometimes dilated—the result of drug inhibition, and it was clear that the original owner of the body was struggling to wake up.

"You ......"

"Kassandra." His primordial form stared at him, and the line of the company commander's memory, which was as rigid as a cliff at the peak, was softened by the young and flawless face, and the primordial body shook his head almost with a sigh, without explaining the current situation too much to the heir.

"You're badly wounded, soldier, it's time for you to go back and rest."

"I can still fight." The Unyielding Fist of the Empire raised his head, "Allow me to fight with you. O my lord...... I...... I...... I will guard this fortress...... I...... The ...... of Hydra"

His brow was deeply knitted. Confused memories and thoughts were taking their toll on him.

"The battle here is over, you should go back and rest."

"I ...... I...... I remember...... Fabius ...... Ahh Son of the Emperor! Rebel! Fabius! "The warriors of the Seventh Legion clung to their heads in agony." We...... Final ......"

The original body of the Fist of Empire watched the last echo of his heir's indomitable soul with a compassionate gaze that no one had ever had the privilege of seeing.

"Yes, as a fighter of the Fist of the Empire, your duties have long been completed, you have done a good job, you can go and rest, Felix."

“…… Didn't make it back to Terra...... ...... with you," Dorne's son saw the last of his eyes burst into brilliance before leaving...... I am happy...... You'll be able to see you at the end...... Father ......"

"See you again, Felix."

The tall body finally slowly collapsed at the Praetorian Guard's feet, and the Imperial Fist and the Iron Warrior lay lifeless, just like they had been ten thousand years ago.

"I have been awarded the title of Lord Protector in the most exalted place of the Empire, with the mountain array and the golden armor as the unshakable high wall......"

Roger Dorn watched his heir return to a higher place.

“…… Gold is nothing but the ashes of the moment after the star briefly and brilliantly illuminates the universe. But I'm relieved, my son, that you're still here, that you're still fighting, that there's little hope in this universe, but it's still ......."

"Hope you're right."

The sigh that has been separated by 10,000 years has finally landed.

Hurried footsteps could be heard around the corner of the hallway.

——

Solar galaxy.

Holy Terra Sync Orbit.

All who are aboard the Mountain Formation at this moment, whether they are transcendent Space Marines or mortals in service, hear the mysterious harmony of ancient metal.

The ageing Mountain Formation murmured softly, just as he had carried the Human Emperor and his champions on an expedition across the galaxy.

The sons of Dorne were either in tears or in frenzy of joy, and they fell to their knees on one knee, weapons in hand, and murmured prayers to the Primordial and the Emperor.

The psykers eagerly used their powers, trying to find the faintest hint in the crevices of the ghosts.

Does this mean a new ray of hope?

In the deepest part of the mountain formation, in the secret chamber of the monastery.

Thor Galaton stared at his father's hand bones.

——

[So who made the main door of the interrogation room so strong and added an extra trigger mechanism?] Perturabo, who had to remain in the observation room due to his helmet shattered by "Stupid Ahlin", let out a whining roar at the Terminator with great impatience.

The herald's speed at dismantling the gate was noticeably quicker if it was impossible.

[It's been a full three minutes, and this useless waste should be made into an iron ring directly from the wet parts.] 】

[Be calm, calm down, take a deep breath, take a deep breath. Pepe. Ramizane hurriedly stepped in to soothe the fearlessness of lifting the power claw against the back of Ahlin's head, which was manifested in the use of both hands to scratch and rub the plush head of the border herd and kill the chicken.

[After all, he's the only one who is unlocking the door...... This shows that the Iron Blood even has a small door lock, both offensive and defensive, and the construction quality is so high, which is a good thing, Peturabo! 】

[This side of the ear is a centimeter down and scratches five times in the depression.] There's a whole set of precision tools built into the right hand armor of my LOGOS, why don't you dismantle it - forget it, the result of letting you go is eighty percent of the unexpected tools that will fly out and smash something unexpected. 】

[Uh-huh, ahem, I think Ahalin will be able to open it soon, and will be responsible for bringing the iron ring from your helmet to the door?] 】

【…… Isn't that what I'm asking you? My visual interaction devices and precise signal converters and the like are integrated into a dedicated helmet, without which I can't receive and give such complex instructions, and I don't have interfaces and bio relay plugs in my head. 】

The dog stared suspiciously at his silly and shifting gaze, "You haven't given instructions to my work assistant until now, have you?" 】

[Of course not, uh-huh, of course it was issued!] But that said, it may take a while...... But...... Like, huh? Interference? 】

[Communication interference, happened on the Iron Blood today? No way. Perturabo visibly furrowed his black and white brow, "There is something wrong with this. 】

"Ahlin."

The Terminator, who was concentrating on removing the last key link bolt in one fell swoop, almost hit it with a hammer.

"Yes, my lord?"

"When was the last time you gave instructions to someone else? Ahlin, has anyone tried to contact you since? ”

The herald's already pale face was instantly so white that the crow guards hanging there were ashamed.

Wail.

There is one more at six o'clock, which should be able to be written

(； Д｀)

It's too inch.,I was knocked down by N without caring about N (I was infected by a relative) and the onset was super fast ()

But just now on the shelves, everyone supports me so much, I can't live up to everyone's support so much, and I still keep two more today!

(Lying corpse (lying corpse))

(End of chapter)