Chapter 290 This Time

"Prophet" Talos Valcoran lay there, blinking his eyes.

The familiar weakness and muscle aches after the second sight ability took effect eroded him.

The reddish light curtain on the retina and the white Nostramo runes and other icons on it formed his familiar vision.

The first thing that came into view was the ceiling of the cabin passage.

He recognized this place, this was the main corridor of the Cursed Echo.

Yes, he remembered that the bridge reported the attack, so they immediately boarded the Dark End and returned to the ship, together... together...!

A thunderbolt split the remaining fog in his mind. Father! Where is the gene father they lost and found? ! He supported his body to stand up, and the servo motors in his joints made a buzzing and harsh sound with his sudden movements.

Then he felt that his body was in the same bad condition as the power armor. The warning runes flashing on the top indicated that his chest armor was hit hard by a melee weapon, his bone plates were cracked, and there was some internal bleeding, but it was stopped by his own repair function.

Talos twisted his neck slightly and immediately felt the fresh sting of the injection on his neck.

What is this? His blood test data emerged in the red corner of his retina. It was an additional injection of cardiac stimulants, not the ones originally in his armor. The stock of those things was now completely exhausted for some reason, as if he had just been through a fierce battle.

There was silence all around, only the faint energy field decomposition and the aftertaste of bloody fighting lingered around everyone.

But he remembered that his last picture stayed on the Dark's End.

Did everyone engage the enemy? But did his brother drag him to fight and hope that he would suddenly wake up and join them? Has the battle reached this point?

Most of the Night Lords should be guarding the Primarch, but there seemed to be no more Night Lords here except his own First Claw.

"Septimus?" Talos tried to speak and found that his voice was like a mosquito. He tasted the strong smell of blood in his mouth and breath, as well as the blood of others.

He felt uneasy. A strange and heavy uneasiness that he had never felt before enveloped him.

"Septimus? First Claw, or anyone, report the current situation." He repeated it again, this time his voice was a little louder, and someone heard him.

The bloody face of Cerion appeared from above.

"How are you? Talos. Glad to see you awake."

The Smiling Lord did not seem to be smiling at this moment.

"I'm not going to die yet. Se. What's going on... Where's my Lord? Where's the others?"

"I don't understand why you would mention your mortal slave first at this time, instead of caring about your brother. Talos, you mentioned 'him', did that blow finally break your head?" Cerion looked at him carefully with a weird look.

"What are you talking about...? Ciel? Ciel?!"

As the broken Cerion moved away, the source of the vague and urgent uneasiness that Talos Valcoran had been feeling since the beginning, which had been hidden behind him, appeared, a picture of the blood of the commander of the Midnight Lords, whose hands were stained with the heat of countless lives and souls, freezing instantly.

It was Ciel.

It was the champion of their little Shattered Warband, the invincible Charr.

But Talos could hardly believe that it was him. With their friendship of centuries - or ten thousand years - he was even unwilling to believe that it was his partner, his comrade, his best brother.

Not far from them, the half-destroyed broken human figure leaning against the blood-spattered bulkhead... that was... the entire frontal structure of the skull was "missing" - or, in other words, the entire upper half of the face was "missing".

Due to the violent multiple impacts, his brow arch had been completely shattered, the middle and lower parts of the frontal bone had become a blurry mixture of flesh and bone fragments, and the nasal bone looked as if it had been hit by a thunder hammer that could penetrate tank armor, and it was shattered into pieces in the middle of his face, and the two eyeballs of this brave warrior looked strangely pale due to the loss of part of the blood supply and pressure, and were peeping out tenaciously under the large mass of edema and completely broken skin.

Talos' throat tightened, making his voice seem too hypocritically relaxed.

"Char?" He asked almost breathlessly, "Are you still... okay?"

The warrior responded with a heavy sigh, but after a moment, Char tried to make a cruel sneer appear at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, I feel better. I can still fight." His most loyal partner and his best brother heard his voice, and then slowly moved his broken body, but his left shoulder was obviously comminuted, because the strong arm now looked limp at his side, "Don't worry, Talos, I can still fight, it's nothing."

"I can't believe you actually killed him, I've never seen such a duel." Selion came over and handed him Char's bat-wing helmet.

The Night Lords champion looked almost about to make a proud face, but the sharp pain in his skull prevented his joy. Bloody fingers groped for his helmet, bearing the emblem of the Eighth Legion, the ferocious face of the Midnight Spawn that had roamed the galaxy for the last ten thousand years.

"Kill him? Who?" Talos breathed hard. His heart beat faster and faster, and his throat became tight. He reached out and tried to grab his golden sword, but found that it was not here -

There it was, the white wings of the power sword splattered with the blood and entrails of the Chapter Champion of the Origin Chapter, the entrails of the Astartes in solid crimson and bronze armor hanging like bloody ribbons on Oulu On the blade of Mu's sword, the blood drops that had not yet solidified swayed slightly and dripped down, which were as bright red as the ruby ​​teardrops on the sword.

"We have to move and find other Fierce Claws to join together. I heard that the void shield stopped again, and there will be more lackeys of the false emperor who will join the gang." Makutian staggered over, and he lost his Power backpack, looks to be in very bad condition.

"Wait a minute! Where is he?! Where is he? Where is my lord? Why don't you mention our father?!"

Ciel grumbled, rocking to his feet and snapping his helmet back onto his head, his voice sounding almost as normal as ever.

"Talos," he said, "my brother."

"……how……"

"I regret having argued with you before. There's nothing wrong with wanting to live a meaningful life, or trying to find a way out of this war."

"We will talk about this later, brother, first we have to find our Highness."

"Okay," he responded, "we'll talk about that later. But where is the Primarch you were talking about? Talos? Where is he? I..."

Talos watched helplessly as thin lines of blood flowed out along the cracks in Char's armor. The ever reliable and steadfast Char, swaying like a dead leaf in the wind, walked half way towards Talos's direction. He took a few steps and then fell into the arms of the prophet.

The life rune representing Ciel flickered and turned into a straight line.

The power of the High Heaven laughed wildly with extreme regret and hatred and swallowed up the delicious Talos Valcoran.

——If it weren’t for her trembling cry.

A woman's voice came from far away.

"Wake up! Talos! Wake up!"