Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 126 Get out! ! !
"They are creations of miracles, the foundation of dynasties, fragments of physical universe gods, forged into divine weapons."

A low, synthesized mechanical voice hummed, and the elegant tones of the Tarachin chanted hymns, blessings from the ancient, death-fearing.

hum~
The round shield was mounted on the left arm. With a slight shake, the serrated edges of the shield popped out and began to spin at high speed under the engine's drive.

In the space where the saw blade cut, the tearing gaps were faintly visible, with sporadic sparks flashing.

No experiment is needed; just by looking at it, its destructive power is astonishing.

"The Star God hates the condensed saw blade. I really can't think of anything in the real universe that can withstand it?"

“Tsk~tsk~tsk~”

The undead's metal head swayed, emitting gasps of admiration, its emotions no different from those of an ordinary person.

Doom was naturally delighted with such a powerful weapon, but then he discovered a new problem and said with some regret, "It's a bit inconvenient."

The Judgment Sword can be clipped to the waist, and the Super Shotgun can be hung on the waist, but there's nowhere to put this round shield, and it's inconvenient to carry it on one's back.

He also understood that such a powerful weapon could accept a few minor flaws.

“You seem to underestimate the Necromancer.”

What kind of being is the Endless One, Talazin?
It has been traveling through the universe for at least 60 million years since the Age of the Dead, through the War of Heaven, without entering the "Great Hibernation" of the undead in space.

Doom's slightest emotional change was naturally captured by its mechanical body, which analyzed the regret in the micro-expression.

It gently tapped the shield with its mechanical arm, producing a clanging sound, revealing the shield's little secret to Doom:
"The shield has a built-in 'interdimensional lasso,' which can be placed in another dimension when not in use and can be summoned at any time using the arm armor."

“You can’t underestimate any undead, especially the master blacksmiths.”

Tarachin was not just warning, but also deeply agreeing: "They will notice any detail and solve it."

With a thought, Doom's round shield vanished in a shimmering green light, and he nimbly rotated his arm: "Indeed, very comprehensive."

"If it's just a gift, I'm willing to accept it."

He nodded. A tailor-made wonder, delivered right to his doorstep, was not to be ignored.

"You really have no demands?" Doom asked again, still suspicious. He accepted the artifact, but he didn't trust the Silent King.

The Emperor sent him a super shotgun when he came to this planet; this is the example before us.

Cannibals have short mouths and short hands.

The Silent King was not a trustworthy being; at the end of the War of Heaven, when the Star Gods were exhausted and celebrating their victory, he betrayed them cruelly.

By gathering the power of the entire clan, they forcefully shattered the Star God, who represented the laws of the physical universe, into fragments.

The necromancers imprisoned the fragments of the Star God, draining their inexhaustible energy to serve them, thus humiliating the Star God.

The Silent King, so resolute and patient, sent a gift across light-years to fulfill a vow, which is quite intriguing.

“There are no other requirements.” Tarasin nodded firmly, a glint of green light flashing in its eyes, and added, “At least that’s the case with the commissions I’ve received.”

The man and the machine looked at each other, their eyes filled with deep suspicion, apprehension, and distrust.

Doom suspected that the Silent King had ulterior motives, and Talasi also distrusted the Silent King.

Despite their different races, both sides reached a consensus on their attitude towards the Silent King.

"Cough~ cough~ cough~"

Tarasin covered his mouth with his hand and coughed a few times: "Regardless of its ultimate purpose, this weapon is indeed quite good."

"Now that the official business is done, it's time to talk about some personal matters."

Taracin sat back in his chair, leaning deeply against the backrest. His elegant and composed mechanical posture vanished, and his entire demeanor changed abruptly.

"Private matter?"

Doom sat down as well. He noticed that the necromancer's elegant demeanor had completely vanished, replaced by a... sleazy air.
He nodded to himself; this was definitely not a misperception.

Tarachin's current appearance is indeed quite sleazy, even revealing a bit of a rogue and mercenary temperament.

"Yes, it's just a small, personal matter."

“As everyone knows, I am a collector.” Tarasin began his self-introduction anew: “A preserver who wants all things precious to exist, to exist forever.”

At this point, the necromancer metal skeleton sat up straight, exuding a strong sense of confidence and satisfaction.

Listening to its earnest self-introduction, Doom tilted his head and asked, somewhat puzzled, "Is there anything here that you would like to collect?"

If there is anything worth keeping, Doom is willing to give it to Tarasin as a return gift.

After all, it traveled a great distance from deep space to deliver divine weapons to me.

"Take anything you like here."

Doom pointed around the room and said to the Space Necromancer Collector, "Take whatever you like from here."

They're all alien stuff anyway!
They were all insignificant items, and Doom was very generous, making it seem like he was letting anyone choose.

"Hehehe." Tarasin let out a lewd laugh, rubbing his hands excitedly as his eyes darted toward the door: "Then I won't be polite!"

"Hey!" Doom raised his hand to it, his expression changing as he said seriously, "I just said you can pick anything you like in the room."

"I knew it!"

Tarasin was indignant, but its mechanical voice was not surprised: "I think I should be more direct and speak frankly."

"As everyone knows, I am a collector."

It raised its glass, reiterated its identity, and spoke of the work it was proud of: "I not only collect historical fragments and preserve extinct artifacts, but also gather all the precious things worth preserving."

Doom nodded, looking at the Necromancer Collector, wondering what its purpose was.

“But…” Taracin’s tone changed abruptly as he stood up abruptly from his chair and grabbed the floating scepter and green orb.

Doom frowned, his mind immediately on high alert, wary of a sudden attack from the space necromancy.

"I also enjoy collecting powerful warriors from various races."

After Tarasin finished speaking, it quickly jumped back and cautiously watched Doom from a distance, holding its scepter.

"I thought you had some unreasonable request." Doom suddenly realized that it wanted the Sand Lizard Warrior.

He waved his hand generously, so generously that Tarachin couldn't believe it: "Choose any of them you like!"

"really?"

Tarasin's eyes blazed with green light; it never expected that the demigod before it would be so generous as to offer up its offspring.

They let us choose whatever we want?
Even its data brain wouldn't dare to simulate such a beautiful dream when simulating dreams!

"You can choose any of the elite sand lizard warriors below."

Seeing Tarachin's delighted expression, Doom immediately realized that the collector's mentality was rather ordinary.

He thought the sand lizard was quite ordinary, not even as powerful as the Astartes, with only a few advantages.

“Not sand lizards!” Tarasin said angrily, his voice rising involuntarily. “How dare those lowly creatures enter my collection coffin?”

"What I'm saying is..."

It retreated a little further, ensuring it could escape: "Your offspring, a destroyer."

Having said that, Tarasin prepared to teleport, not wanting to face the wrath of the powerful warrior.

However, Doom did not attack immediately, which surprised Tarasin and made him breathe a sigh of relief.

There is something to talk about!
Tarachin enjoyed negotiating, bartering, and exchanging treasures for treasures; such transactions could even become legendary tales.

"A Doom Slayer?" Doom slowly stood up, his face showing some hesitation, even a thoughtful expression.

His tall figure stood upright, looking down at the alien from above, his eyes devoid of sorrow or joy.

The reason Doom didn't act immediately was because he suppressed his raging anger, fearing that Tarahim would run too fast.

“Yes, just one.” Taracin lowered his guard, let out a long sigh, and said cautiously in a softer voice, “My request is not high; I can exchange it for an equivalent collection.”

"Hmm." Doom nodded slowly, deeply agreeing, and said with great satisfaction, "This request is indeed not high."

"How about you exchange this body of yours?"

"Okay!" Tarasin's mind leaped with surprise, and he completed the calculation in almost a fraction of a second, agreeing without any hesitation.

It felt this deal was incredibly profitable: a dominant body in exchange for a legendary warrior.

value!
But it ignored Doom's voice, the raging fury that erupted within it.

After his mechanical mind came to its senses, Tarachin felt that his perspective had lowered, becoming level with the floor.

Doom dodged and delivered a powerful punch, blasting Tarashin's metal skull into his chest cavity.

Eerie green sparks flashed and exploded, the head, still powerful, pierced through the abdomen and embedded itself in the stone floor.

"There's nothing to talk about... You should have said so earlier... You launched a sneak attack?"

Doom picked up Tarashin's head; the top was deformed from the immense force, sparks flickered inside, and it was still uttering strange words.

He looked at Tarasin quietly, his expression still calm, his voice cold and stiff: "A lesson learned, don't mess with them again."

"roll!!!"

Doom roared and cursed, tightening his fingers to crush the necromancer's metal skull.

Taracin hurriedly severed its consciousness and committed suicide. It dared not gamble on whether the Godkiller's erasure of concepts could erase digital thinking.

After suicide, the consciousness can be reborn in countless bodies, but it dares not gamble on being killed.

As consciousness faded, the undead overlord's body on the ground stopped twitching, and the fluorescent green glow dimmed, turning into a dull metallic corpse.

(End of this chapter)