In the suite belonging to the Emperor's Son, the conversation between the ghosts of the past continued, but Nikona Sharokin had no intention of listening.

- Are these confusingly blind and confident warriors from several identified legions of traitors completely unaware that they themselves look wrong?

Before talking about the corrupted Twelfth Legion and evaluating the Iron Warrior who looked abnormal, did they notice that they were wearing a full set of Terminator Power Armor, but sitting on the couch in their room with incredible softness and relaxation, or reclining on the indoor minibar and sipping a glass of wine that even the average Astarte would not get drunk?

The last time Sharokin had seen a warrior in similar armor soften and relax himself to such an extent in a place of height difference was when the unfortunate man had become like a pocket of flesh and guts due to a comminuted fracture of the limb inside the armor.

And the feeling that the son of Horus, who was called Gavel Lorcan, finally fell into drunkenness was very obvious. The smell of chemical pheromones on this member of the Sixteenth Legion and the muscles on his face certainly indicated that he was drunk with these delicious grape fermented juices—Sharokin admitted that he had carefully examined them while wandering in some shades, and they smelled good, with a hint of sugar, fruit, and alcohol and other flavoring substances, but nothing more, and he did not dare to risk the chaos pollution of any further taste with the naked eye.

It's impossible for any Space Marine to get drunk with the expensive but not really strong Quartis wine, especially if this guy only had a few drinks.

After many observations and reflections, Sharokin speculated that it may be because Garvier Lorcan needed the concept of "it is normal to ignore or forget anything when he is drunk", so he successfully "got drunk" here.

- So what is the difference between you, who have now de facto begun to serve your new masters, and the Plague Guards and the Fallen Legions......? Maybe he hasn't etched his sigil into his shoulder armor yet?

The Raven Guard pondered as he quietly moved himself through the shadows, even though he was unarmoured—he had tried to touch the armory here, and then his natural sharpness and instincts had saved him—the sensitivity and strength of the Auto Guard's fire were not suitable for any further attempts.

While Sarakin was confident that he would be able to get some useful equipment from the poor environment and management of the rebels and the Chaos Clan, regardless of which place the traitor army controlled, he would be able to turn the situation in his favor, but he obviously couldn't do it in this place.

On this flagship, first of all, it is too neat here, and the managers here seem to have a kind of obsessive compulsion to control neatness, and they have to make everything clean, horizontal and vertical, all irregular things are stored and hung up, there are no dead spots on the ground and on the top, and the lack of equipment piling up and a lot of extra accumulation that is common on Imperial ships and more common in chaotic environments is the same, which caused him a lot of trouble moving at first, fortunately, It had improved greatly after he discovered that they had even wrapped the façade of the top pipe line - he could easily drill through the gaps between the lines above their heads - but the armory was still inaccessible, and the instincts that had saved him so many times would have warned him loudly if he got close to that place.

Second, the ship had few living people compared to the ship itself, and while it was good for setting up ambushes to take down single people, on the other hand, there were so many Ring Mechs at the entrance that Sharokin wondered if the Mechatron traitors had mastered a way to mass-produce them on a large scale and at a low cost.

And for some reason, these mechs have a function that can scan the faces of helmets for identification, which makes the plan to "capture a suit of power armor so that it can blend in with the field team and leave the area" suddenly becomes too risky to bear, so he is now in addition to his own hair (who can tell him why his hair has become so long and keeps cutting?). The only thing that covered his body was some plain cloth, from the room where he first woke up.

Later, Sharokin had no clue as to how he had arrived here and who had awakened him, and it was this strange beginning that had made him extremely cautious in his actions for the first time, and he needed a little time to slowly revisit and revisit more details about himself, about the Legion, about his comrades, and about their great battles and sacrifices—a rare sadness welled up in his heart at the thought of the farewell to those who lived and died together he had so much during the Sisyphus and the escape from Luna, He won't regret their deaths, but he will make their deaths more valuable than meaningless - they're all there to cover his escape from Luna with the sample.

Sharokin remembers very well the name of the last place he saw before he fell asleep with the su-san meninges of the original blood, the most important thing, and his su-san meninges.

But he woke up now, no doubt out of the solar system, or in that abandoned spaceport.

He was on a Chaos Glory Queen soaring through the stars, empty-handed, naked, and rising from the floor of what looked like some high-ranking officer's private room.

Why is he there? What happened before? He didn't want to dwell on what was going on behind the scenes and the details of it, because it didn't do him any good at the moment, and everything could wait until he got out of here and went to safety.

Sharokin remembers waking up to his first impression of what seemed to have been the hit of an invisible storm in his room, with broken equipment and furniture everywhere, a mess, and the original occupants of the room were gone. What made him decide to hide himself immediately was what he saw at second sight: the insignia of the betrayer, the Third Legion, the Emperor's Son, was majestically suspended above the decorative fireplace in the room.

Ominous mechanical footsteps rang out outside the door.

Before he could react, Nikona Sharokin found himself naturally dissolving into the shadows.

For a long time after escaping the room, he was in a state between sleeping and waking up, due to the lack of power armor monitoring and life support system, he could not judge what caused his current condition well, and could only recover some of the energy for action through pure sleep in the shadows, although the shadows also nourished him to some extent, but it was not enough for the large amount of energy needed by the space marines without the help of power armor, which turned his already thin muscles into a thin layer, The pale, almost transparent skin taut over his broad, genetically modified bones.

But the more time he spent observing the people and the activities here, the less he dared to try any of the manufactured foods here, even though they seemed really, indeed, very tempting.

And the children of Chaos here seem to be accustomed to having a grand sacrifice to some kind of evil god before they eat, and then they start to enjoy their food.

He would only occasionally and minimally get some "food" to eat that he could see how it was grown, and he would go to the lower deck to find some fresh water, everything here was too weird, and every time he thought that something weird had reached a limit, a new weird event would happen that broke through his imagination and reshaped his cognition.

The first and most bizarre thing that made him think he might have fallen into a land ruled by the Demon Lord and not necessarily in the real universe was this: the accomplice of the betrayer, one of the rebel leaders of Terra, the original form of the Iron Warrior, the fourth genetic primordial, Perturabo, and now a talking, thinking, furry, black-and-white dog.

Compared to this, it was not so difficult to accept the Seventh Primordial who became the slave of the Iron Lord of Chaos and the King of Nukeria who reminded him of the kind Warlord's version.

(End of chapter)