This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 283 Say your name, brother.

Today is destined to be short.

The images transmitted back from various parts of the fortress became increasingly clear, and the dark angels began to gradually shift from assault operations to post-battle cleanup, while the fallen angels who no longer wanted to fight were relatively cooperative.

The automated mechs piloted by the Steelwing monks erected a barrier between the two sides. For the Dark Angels and Fallen Angels, this was perhaps the safest way to make contact at this moment, avoiding direct conflict and providing a buffer for subsequent communication.

The Dark Angels, who had been under Arthur's leadership, were the first to break the deadlock.

They were the first to state their names, their units, and their past experiences, before asking questions of their comrades outside the iron wall.

"Give me your name, brother."

They said this on countless battlefields that had been brought to a close.

The fallen angels hesitated for a moment before slowly responding.

The two exchanged names and reminisced about the past. When the original's name was solemnly mentioned, the tense atmosphere seemed to ease a little.

Although trust remains as fragile as a candle flickering in the wind, at least it has begun to be built.

The situation is already very clear: it's a battle between fully armed dark angels and scattered fallen angels. Under Arthur's leadership, they have an incredible number of cards to play.

The First Legion has always lacked trust in anything.

In this respect, they have inherited Leon, the father of genetics, very well.

However, Arthur was unwilling to tolerate every order being a matter of two comrades-in-arms who had fought side by side for many years trying to guess each other's intentions. He wanted the dark angels to have absolute faith in his orders, so in dealing with fallen angels, whatever he said was law.

cough~
In the external control room, a fallen angel stood supporting himself in front of the control panel.

His power armor was riddled with cracks, and he was breathing heavily.

This is the battlefield he wove with his psychic powers. Twisted energy hums in the air, like countless whispers echoing in his ears. He frantically and cautiously extracts power from the High Heaven to fight against its minions.

As he continued to use this power, his surroundings gradually distorted, conjuring up a bizarre, multicolored halo, like a shattered prism refracting a scene that did not belong to reality.

"Go away!"

The fallen angel pulled out his tactical dagger and plunged it into his body, the intense pain causing sweat to bead on his forehead.

puff!

As the blade was pulled out, a few drops of dark red blood splattered onto the cold floor.

He breathed heavily, plunging the dagger into the floor in front of him; the clanging of metal against metal was particularly jarring in the silent control room.

Only after the agitation of his psionic energy was forcibly suppressed did he lean back as if all his strength had been drained, resting against the edge of the control panel, the armor scraping against the metal surface with a harsh sound.

"ended."

The fallen angel's voice was very hoarse, filled with weariness.

He hadn't used these powers for decades. His long years adrift in the warp had made him acutely aware of how dangerous this "gift" was, so he had shut down his senses for a time.

Fortunately, the secret he had kept all along finally came in handy, allowing him to catch these traitors off guard at least once.

“Brother Bevedan, please report your status again. The troops are approaching.”

That young voice came through the communicator again.

It was that recruit named Azrael.

The fallen angel had no recollection of the name, and the other party explained that he was a dark angel recruited in this era.

He said a lot, and the fallen angels could sense the changes in his relatively frank words.

The fallen angel subconsciously suspected that there might be a hidden truth behind it.

His legs trembled slightly from the exhaustion of his psychic energy, then he spread them open and kicked open the head of a mangled corpse.

The head rolled around on the metal floor a few times before finally stopping, staring at the fallen angel with its one bare, still-open eye.

Clearly, this was the unlucky guy who failed because he didn't expect him to be someone who possessed psychic power, and thus lost in his recklessness.

We are the Dark Angels.

The Alpha Group always thinks they are the experts in infiltration because they all use the same names and don't even know what they are doing, but the secrets we keep will expose their mental weaknesses.

Finding a frank and honest dark angel is as rare as finding a civilized space wolf, the fallen angel thought ironically.

"."

In order to find a foothold to support his actions, he suddenly threw out the dagger.

The knife handle struck the power switch of the signal generator precisely; it was a circuit that had been manually cut off during previous operations to block the intruders.

pat-

Once the connection was established, a rapid influx of information attacks, including the constantly looping video feeds, quickly penetrated the entire fortress.

The holographic projection of light particles converged in the air, gradually outlining the silhouette of a knight.

The gleaming light of the sword bathed the pale room in a warm golden glow. In this sudden light, the fallen angel squinted and finally made out the knight's face.

The warrior who had betrayed the Lion King suddenly had a strange feeling—

It was as if a true king stood before him, the knight holding a gleaming sword, his posture upright as a pine tree, seemingly waiting for the challenges of all things in the world.

"I am Arthur Pendragon, the current leader of the Dark Angels. If you see this message, it means I have arrived."

The image has been slightly shrunk to reveal the dark angels passing by him.

They were fully armed. The fallen angels could tell from the height of the corridor lights that these dark angels were much taller, but even with the increased size of the new power armor, the difference in size between them and the central knights was still obvious.

It is indeed the original.

"Like you, when I opened my eyes again, I saw an unfamiliar galaxy, surrounded by enemies who wanted to take your lives. Because of this, I understand your suffering, and I can provide you with a place of refuge, a place where you can calmly think."

"This galaxy is more dangerous than ever before, and for that reason, I urgently need your help. We will build a great army to compete for dominion over the galaxy and to better demonstrate how humanity should contend for the stars. If you are sincere, I promise you will find a place in this great undertaking."

The fallen angel's breathing became rapid involuntarily.

"Remember this: if you accept my ideas, then I am the undisputed commander of the First Legion. Before you leave the ranks, you must abide by the oath I made, and immediately cease all infighting and mutual trials—"

The knight in the projection looked intently at the camera recording his figure.

"I will make the final decision."

The video ended, and the entire screen was once again splattered into darkness.

The Primarch harbored ambitions to change the galaxy, and he made no attempt to conceal it.

At the same time, he is very honest, he has clear requirements for the legion, and he is not stingy in sharing his plans.

Secondly, he was very lenient; he intended to identify the sins of the fallen angels and punish them according to his standards.

He wanted to end this millennia-long internal strife and chain of suspicion.

Before the Lion King took command of the army.

"So, he intends to reject the Lion King?"

The fallen angel murmured hoarsely, his metal gloves scratching shallow marks on the control panel, and thought of how the Primarch was currently traveling with those loyal warriors while he himself had to endure their attacks.

This is indeed a cruel joke.

Indeed, the Milky Way has never been a forgiving place.

If you want to be tolerant, then you must be tougher than those who are sensitive.

The prince revealed his resolve: he was determined to carry the burden of his fallen angel past on his shoulders, and no one but him could interfere.

The fallen angel took a deep breath, his leaky chest like a broken bellows.

He slowly brought up the communication interface and truthfully uploaded his location and the process of annihilating the enemy, including the forbidden use of psionic energy.

The data stream flickered on the screen, revealing his secret.

I hope I'm right this time.

After finishing all this, he leaned back against the cold metal wall, closed his eyes, and smiled bitterly.

He had experienced similar betrayals many times before.

(End of this chapter)