This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 284 You're Going to Get a Beating, Bro
Click!

The sound of the metal gate being violently broken shattered the silence of the control room.

Azrael's psionic forces surged in like shadows, their power boots stomping viscously on the blood.

What came into view was a scene of utter devastation.

Several corpses lay sprawled haphazardly in front of the control panel, their armor bursting open from the inside, their internal organs spraying radially onto the surrounding instruments—undoubtedly the work of psionicists.

In the shadows on the other side of the room, a fallen angel leaned against the twisted and deformed remains of a control console.

When he sensed the intruder's energy signal, he slightly raised his bloodstained helmet.

wow-

The automaton immediately raised its weapon and hit the opponent's exposed limbs, worsening the opponent's injuries.

"Is this the treatment you promised?"

"The fallen angel said sarcastically."

"Can't die."

Azrael gave a low growl, instructing the automatons to fasten the Blackstone chains.

The young dark angel then quickly connected to the communication channel, and after receiving confirmation, a pharmacist silently stepped forward.

His servo arms unfolded sophisticated surgical tools, and the cutter emitted high-frequency vibrations as it peeled away the severely deformed armor plates piece by piece.

The fallen angel then realized that the other party's power backpack seemed to be just for show, as it actually contained a large amount of supplies.

With each cut, her body trembled slightly, and dark red blood seeped from the exposed wounds, leaving grotesque marks on her pale skin. The apothecary's movements were very precise, which greatly reduced the pain the fallen angel had anticipated.

"Aspire?"

The fallen angel suddenly felt that the guy in front of him looked familiar.

He lifted his blood-stained face, and a distant memory flashed through his mind, causing his pupils to contract slightly.

"Yes, Bevedan, it's been a long time."

The pharmacist replied silently, his attitude not exactly friendly.

It was clear that after a lengthy internal review within the legion, they found out what this guy had done.

"I'm very sorry."

The fallen angel hesitated for a long time, cautiously watching to see if the other party would poison him or something, before finally speaking:

“When the Lion returned to Caliban, I was furious. I didn’t know if I thought we were right to do it, but everyone around me seemed to think so. I certainly didn’t have the strength or ability to voice my opposition, so Luther and his men launched the first attack.”

"At the time, I kept thinking that I was just following orders, that as a soldier, it was what I was supposed to do."

"I'm very sorry."

So said the fallen angel.

The pharmacist's servo arm suddenly stopped, hovering in mid-air and trembling slightly.

"I know."

The pharmacist replied.

"We have always had doubts about the lion."

His initial rank did not allow him to know certain inside information, but during the long reconciliation process within the legion, they had already reviewed the details of the events from that year.

"Before we arrived, Caliban himself had not allowed the Lion King to land."

The pharmacist continued, the bone saw in his hand humming slightly as he tightened his grip and pulled a shard of nail from the wound.

“Some commanders fear that he has betrayed the Emperor and returned to Caliban only to seize the resources you have accumulated, so that the Dark Angels Legion can defeat those legions that remain loyal in the future, thereby controlling the Empire after the rebellion.”

The fallen angel's breath caught in his throat for a moment.

The pharmacist continued working smoothly, cleaning and repairing the wound as usual.

"And others"

The voice behind the mask became even deeper.

"They fear he will execute them upon his return, because they are involved with Chaos, researching psychic magic, and colluding with ancient civilizations lurking in Caliban, long corrupted by Chaos—"

"Tear out a piece of shrapnel embedded in the muscle and throw it on the ground," the pharmacist said again.

"It was they who brought about the utter destruction of the Caliban."

The pharmacist's words made the fallen angel tense, and his Adam's apple bobbed laboriously.

He didn't know the specifics of what happened after that; all he knew was that someone had secretly violated the Nicaea ban that restricted psychic research.

Moreover, he never expected that after ten thousand years, these secrets would be analyzed so thoroughly.

"So they launched the attack at Luther's instigation."

The pharmacist applied slight pressure with his hand, but still carefully treated the wound, and finally said with certainty.

You are the former.

Tell me your reasons, and I believe that someone as restrained as you has their own.

He began to question them.

"Because the Lion King at that time was an idiot who watched the entire empire head towards destruction without letting us fight!"

The fallen angel's voice suddenly rose in pitch.

"Horus used every resource at his disposal to besiege Terra, intending to defeat the Emperor, and now it seems he has succeeded."

He looked directly into the pharmacist's eyes.

He truly envied these people. He envied their ability to participate in a great war, to be involved in determining the fate of humanity, unlike him, who was utterly worthless.

"When Horus launched his rebellion, the Lion King chose to observe. He dispersed his forces and, when the Emperor needed him most, he was still playing house with those damned Night Lords in the Limitless Starfield."

"Terra desperately needed support, and when Coswayne returned to Caliban for the first time, he immediately chose to come to Terra's aid. But the Lion King sent 30,000 Astartes, leaving me, who had participated in the war to unify Terra, to sit on a rock that was falling into death!"

"Do you know what we are? We are war machines created by the Emperor to save humanity and to conquer the galaxy."

"This was the situation back then. In a war that determined the fate of mankind, we were ignored. The First Legion didn't even get close to the front lines. It was more like they were preserving their strength and observing. Throughout the Great Rebellion, the First Legion failed to do what they were supposed to do."

"So our father was either a traitor or an incompetent man who couldn't even assess the situation of the rebellion."

"How can you expect me to believe him? How can you expect me to believe the Lion King! Am I supposed to admit that he is a powerless Primarch?"

The relentless questioning silenced the surrounding dark angels.

Especially Azrael.

Is this even audible to me?

Your dark angels from ten thousand years ago were no less formidable.

"Now I understand why those young people in the warband are so obsessed with hunting us down."

The pharmacist silently squeezed the biogel, the viscous liquid filling the gaps in the wound tissue.

Anyone would be unable to withstand such relentless criticism from the Legion's seniors. If he were in this situation and had to utter the first word, it would mean he wasn't loyal enough.

If he finds out that Lion King, Guilliman, and Saint Geres have set up a second empire in the Extreme Starfield, what will happen?
"What will you do with me?"

The fallen angel finally calmed down, his voice tinged with weariness.

Venting on someone you know allows you to release all the pent-up anger that has been building up for hundreds of years.

"Did you know that Luther was corrupted by Chaos?"

"do not know."

Do you know whether the Lion King is loyal?

"He is a traitor."

The atmosphere around them suddenly became tense.

"Have you sided with Chaos?"

"No."

"Were you one of the masterminds behind the Caliban attack?"

"No."

The pharmacist tossed the empty gel tube into the recycling bin, the metallic clanging sound particularly jarring in the silence.
"That's enough."

He said.

"To be honest, I'd love to kill you right now."

The voice paused, then suddenly became dangerous and low.

"Because your psionic lightning destroyed half of my body back then. If it weren't for Your Highness, I would be a cripple now, lying in a shoddy life support pod modified from a mining machine."

“But His Highness intends to give you a chance, just as he did for me back then.”

He took a step forward, his power boots crushing a patch of congealed blood on the ground:
You must understand one thing—

The fallen angel involuntarily tensed his body; the apothecary's visor was almost pressed against his face, and the hot air from the breathing grille condensed into tiny water droplets on his visor.

“Unlike before, this time a noble prince came to us personally, asking for our help, asking for our salvation, and asking us to be brought back into the sunlight. He will personally honor us after the war and explain the doubts in our hearts. He hopes that we can become his right-hand men.”

"Instead of the Emperor forcing another Primarch onto our heads! So—"

He suddenly stepped back, and the servo arm retracted its medical instruments.
"I will put aside my personal grudges for the time being."

At the same time, the fallen angel's anesthesia wore off as he moved, and the pharmacist pulled up a file, its cold blue light illuminating the two of them:

"Then there's the matter of your resettlement."

"Given that you are a psionicist, we will deploy members of the Pentagram Order to conduct a detailed psychological assessment of you, to determine whether you are better suited to be placed in a second-line educational or administrative role, or to join the Legion to fight for His Highness's ideals, and we will respect your opinion to a certain extent."

"Now."

The apothecary patted the blackstone psionic suppressor on the other person's wrist, then turned and joined Azrael's party.

"Come with me, there are some necessary rituals you need to go through."

Although he decided not to seek personal revenge, the necessary rituals still had to be performed.

It's clear to the naked eye that the unrestricted fighting tournament aboard the "Silent Oath" will be quite a spectacle today.

Seeing this, the fallen angel resigned himself to his fate, lowered his head, clutched the file, and chose to follow.
-
"Yes, Your Highness, the finishing touches on the outer ring of the fortress are complete. We are currently using automated weapons to clear hidden passages and reconstruct the fortress's data model. Yes, we have gathered many members, and there have been no casualties on our side during the process. I will go to the Round Table Council later."

"Thanks for your hard work."

"It's not hard work!"

With an instinctive snap to attention, Azrael hung up the communication and watched the fallen angels depart.

The eyes behind the mask narrowed slightly, and for no apparent reason, a sense of anticipation arose for the upcoming commendation.

Feeling this emotion that wasn't unpleasant, he seemed to finally understand what His Highness had bestowed upon the Dark Angel.

It's not a distant ideal, but a present reality within reach;

It's not an empty promise, but a real and foreseeable future.

(End of this chapter)