Chapter 1 Subspace Drag Racing Accidents
Subspace, the mirror shadow of the universe, where all the desires and dreams of sentient beings converge. Today...... Well, well, there's no concept of time and space here, that's just a fallacy of the mind. We can say that at a certain time and in a certain place, something interesting happened because of the will of some being.
Let's not dwell on the slight deviation between reality and the concept of the Supreme Heaven, and focus our gaze on a seemingly inconspicuous corner. A battleship was rushing on the waves of the Aether, a spasmodic trajectory enough to make the navigators curse.
Its ramming horns shimmered with golden light, causing the unfortunate subspace predators to disappear before they could scream, and transpire into a mass of essence into the vast ocean. This strange scene made the demons retreat one after another. Only the beasts, who did not possess even basic intelligence, rushed forward without knowing whether they were alive or dead, and then turned into a cloud of smoke.
Navigating through the entanglement of time and space, this petite and delicate frigate crashed through numerous obstacles along the way. Many Imperial Trek ships from different eras have been slammed back to reality, and similarly, many of the well-positioned Chaos warships have crashed into pieces, and their members have been thrown into the void, to be used as a snack by the subspace beings who have survived.
Then, she crashed headfirst into the atmosphere of Scalos, which was so thin that it was almost non-existent. The newest inhabitant of this newly named barren planet is from the Seventeenth Legion.
The Great Speaker stood among the heirs, treading on the ground of blood and the sound of offerings, and looked with interest at a storm shaped like a shadow.
"Come to me, my dear brother."
Like many preachers, his voice is melodious, deep, and direct. In response, Shadow reached out with a sharp claw, crushing the last warrior alive at his side. By the time the bearer had fallen to the ground, it had turned into a mass of flesh and shards of pottery steel.
The shadow coalesced and formed, spitting out half of the pale face from the center. Rolga O'Leary waited patiently for his brother to show up in full, it would be a meaningful one-
Bang.
Heavenly fire descended in the form of a burning battleship. The wave of air engulfed the soldiers of the legion and obscured Luo Jia's vision. He was sure that he had been pierced by something, not cracked metal or flying rubble, but something more metaphysical. Something that reminded him of death and fiery.
He saw the light.
The golden light, as innocent and clear as it had been seen at the beginning of life, was entwined with white flames, burning the essence of the original body in wisps.
He heard the singing of a blaster, rhythmic like a subspace tune. The Whisperers tried to save their father, and after they had fallen to the High Heavens for so long and so long, the obedience and affection that the Puppet Emperor had written into their genes still worked.
This did not make Luo Jia happy. He wanted to create, not simply smelt and recast. He was annoyed to realize that his work still could not be separated from his father's foundation. He should make a greater and more outstanding work, better than his brother, better than all his fathers.
- for this is the only way to be worthy of the blood and the oaths that have been broken.
His heir nearly succeeded, the smoke and mist dispelled by fire and sorcery, a crimson terracotta steel glove reaching out to him, and a hint of pure joy appeared on Marduk's distorted face.
Then the Bearer's head turned into a mist of blood.
The flames rekindled, in a more inhuman form. Tongues of fire outlined giants, and the Legion of Curses stepped out of the fire, bringing judgment and sanction. Tears slipped from Luo Jia's eyes, not because of the dazzling light, but because of ......
The tallest of them all wielded a war hammer, and a cluster of fire danced above its headless neck.
"Fenus......" he said laboriously, feeling that the guts that were not there were all melting in the heat.
On the other side of the battlefield, Koraks had clearly just recovered from the shock. "How do you match...... Call the name. He muttered, the shadows thickened, but he didn't move.
So the emperor's three sons stood on the battlefield, the fallen, the dead, and the converted gazing at each other. The cursed warriors behind the headless demigods swarmed out, hunting Chaos Astarte and the demons who took advantage of it, screaming and shouting for murder mixed for a moment.
"So, are you the one who has come for revenge today?" Even though his soul was slowly being burned, Luo Jia still maintained his upbringing. The dead Fenus was silent, and raised the same flame-entangled warhammer in his hand.
+ Today is not a battle between you and me.+
The voice wasn't real, but it went straight into Luo Jia's thoughts.
"Why is that so laborious?"
+ It is revenge and retribution.+
Another voice invaded like light and fire, rising from within the skull, as if it had flowed from the veins of eternity
Luo Jia opened his mouth, as helpless as a toddler: "Father? ”
+ I am a thief of fire, a man of men, a plague of gods. The children of your plunder will be redeemed one by one.+
"The bloodline and flesh are just containers, and the true face of us is a subspace ......"
He was silent, but the burning was more intense, fueling his flesh and soul. A passage was erected in the depths of his psyche, connecting time and space, fate and return, and many more things that gave him a headache when he saw it.
Blood trickled from his fingertips, and four distinct, but equally intriguing rays of light, chirped sneer and curse rose from his wounds.
+ Stupid, ridiculous, wonderful! +
+ Seductive determination, sweet determination...... +
+You've scared this kid......+
+Hmph+
Four voices converge into the same river.
+ Well done, Spirit of Abomination.+
"Change." Carlos whispered through the crystal labyrinth, hearing the faint echoes of the Well of Eternity.
"The Muter is one move." Deep in the tunnel, in front of the Black Library. The troupe leader, who had just finished a wonderful dance and smashed the head of an unlucky demon, shook the blood on the tip of his shoe and said in a singing voice.
"People's hearts are fickle, and fate is difficult to change." Adaradish sat in his private room, sighing at the wall.
On the wizarding planet, the roar and thunder of a beast rushed out of Magnus's usual temple of meditation.
In a certain port, Konstantin Valdo, who was in a hurry, glanced at the sky as if he were aware of it, and pulled his hood again.
As a result, Roga O'Leary never returned.
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All I can tell you is that I was fighting, armed with a weapon, and flanked only by my brother and mortal enemy. I thought I would have been able to get the highest honor of being a child of Saturn, who died on the battlefield. And then...... Thunder, flames burned those demons. I hadn't seen much of the ship, except for the bright tail flame it dragged along and the divine agitation aura that surrounded it.
- Raven, a recruit from the Grey Knight's Eighth Company
They came, they came, paws banging on the windows, but she also came, and she brought the joy and sanction of the God-Emperor. He came to exorcise demons, He came to save everyone!
- Pastor Derek
As far as I can see, the activities of this "subspace ghost ship" span 10,000 years, even dating back to the Great Rebellion. As for its origin, we can only conclude that it belongs to the standard frigates that were installed in large numbers during the Great Expeditionary period, and there is no corresponding existence in the rosters of the existing legions. But at least until now, the Twilight Star has been contributing to our interests. It may be assumed to be a well-intentioned being, or even the will of the emperor, as they say. Of course, you can never let your guard down.
May the Emperor bless us all
—Inquisitor Delevingne
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The skies of Colchis have always been like this, always have been. The blue of the sky was blurred in the dust, and at noon, the brightest and hottest day in seven days, the poisonous sun continued to sow heat, tearing and evaporating the occasional clouds, shining with the lapis lazuli inlaid in the Temple of the Covenant.
In a secret room, the fostered prophet writes a messy whisper, the handwriting on the blood-soaked slip of paper will be copied layer by layer, drowning in proverbs and prophecies before it reaches the high priest's table.
The high echelons of the covenant whispered about the celestial signs and the chaotic imagery of the sudden explosion of prophecy. So no one cares about the trembling handwriting:
"Rejoice, for I have brought you a glorious gospel.
The gods walk among us. ”