Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Morse sat on the tiles at the top of the bell tower, leaning against the gilded spire that stretched into the night sky, closing his eyes.

He could not get an answer when asked, and he was always opposed to the delay in taking action after all corrupt things manifest themselves and do evil.

His morality always refuses him to rashly wipe out the objects that Chaos entrusts when he has the ability to peel off the evil things of Chaos; while his patience sternly refuses him to endure the anxiety one by one and carefully examine the hearts of mortals. Decide in turn which form of purification to use on mortals.

So he was self-reliant in advance.

Some black strips of cloth wrapped around the fingers quietly loosened, and the cold spiritual energy poured out in all directions. The sharp change in entropy caused the temperature to drop, and the cold air carved crystal frost flowers on the surface of the tiles.

However, thanks to the precise control of the psychic owner, the frost flower took the top of the tower as the center of the circle, spread out only thirteen inches, and then stopped accurately, surrounding an extremely standard circle.

If someone could magnify the tip of the frost flower infinitely at this time and peer down to the tiniest structure of frozen water vapor, then he would discover that every bend and outline is a component of countless ancient runes.

These countless runes fall like heavy objects, attracting each other with magnets, and automatically respond to the call of the psionic owner. He lifted it up to the sky above the vast ocean, and stared at each other across the bottom of the boat with a vast and boundless nothingness.

Morse opened his eyes, his body did not move, but his spirit stepped on the surface of the colorful sea of ​​living beings.

He seemed to be rising extremely slowly, but the next moment he was already outside the entire planet of Olympia.

The planet, which was extremely large compared to an individual human, shrank into a round colored glass bead within the field of vision, and the surface of the planet that was originally covered with mountains and rubble turned into a vast ocean with surging undercurrents.

He saw lamps extinguishing in the shadow of the vast ocean, and lamps gradually lighting up in the darkest and brightest places, blocking the rising tide of darkness, and at the same time burying something in the wick. Burnt cotton silk.

Countless souls think of themselves as performers of activity, yet that activity is carried to completion only by the surge of nature.

The endless dark void and the light of reality erode each other into a variety of colorful colors. Just like the countless other planets in the vast galaxy that are randomly scattered like beads and broken chains, the tide is rolling, coming and going, and is eternally balanced in competition.

Morse blinked, his perspective locked, and layers of redundant patterns peeled away from his observations.

Olympia re-magnified in his perception, becoming a spherical projection similar to a divination crystal sphere.

All his distracting thoughts were cleared before he started observing, because he would take the initiative to touch the edge of the fallen will, and the desireless person was the most unpalatable piercing blade for hungry things.

His thoughts became pure and sharp, and he cautiously plunged into the sea of ​​emotions, pursuing those particularly manic, changing, turbid, and extreme breaths.

Maybe it was the next second, maybe it was the last second, and an extreme sweetness suddenly surged out of his tongue, like the thickest honey and the strongest spice, rushing towards his will in an instant.

A string of golden runes cut off the invisible object. Morse immediately followed the edge of this erotic stream and walked against the current. In one breath, he seemed to be in Kaldis thousands of miles away.

In the artificial crystal hall with six empty seats, the six chief priests are in the east and west. The goddess of life and blessings looks down on the earth with a golden face of mercy, eliminating people's trembling and anxiety, only harboring great compassion and great kindness, always accompanied by bliss.

Regardless of whether the previous divine religion was a simple native religion with good intentions, or whether it was really the tentacle of the Prince of Darkness, from this moment on, it was, is, and will always be.

This fishy fragrance is still being nurtured and has not yet been born into the real universe. It spreads from the holy mountain of Kaldis, the origin of the divine religion, through the fountain of the birth of the goddess.

This is the best time to eradicate contamination.

Morse's black robe billows in the nonexistent wind. The cold golden sigil emerged from his robes. Without wasting a moment, his thoughts followed the six empty seats, tracing the whereabouts of the six chief priests of the divine sect.

He heard laughter whispering in his ears, male and female voices, old and young children, their joy was real, its joy was like a shadow.

But this trick had never had any appeal to him. It didn't take long before the curtain began to sway in the blazing wind before he got used to lying on the wicker chair and drying himself.

"The usurper's accomplice..." the young voice sang to him in a low voice, and then suddenly turned into a sweet and bitter chant, "Why should we take him away too! We can no longer see him clearly, that steel The echo of soul and iron..."

"We remember you, nothingness..." She sobbed softly, "What can you pay for this heir to repay the debt of his birth..."

Morse ignored the thing.

His only concern is to control his power, lest he tear a hole in the curtain of this place before the great pain annihilates the world.

The first priest of the cult was in Kaldis. He was having a lively conversation with the tyrant.

There was a brief message lying flat on the sand table beside them. The paper was as soft as gauze and as pale as snow. It was definitely beyond the reach of Kaldis' current technology; in fact, there was only one country in Olympia that had such a technical level.

Morse immediately crushed his soul and sealed the remaining contaminated units that were temporarily inconvenient to decompose in the invisible ice. He ignored the horrified call of the Tyrant of Kaldis and the looks of everyone around him and left.

In the real universe, a crystal gem appears in the center of the palm wrapped in black cloth that transforms into thousands of brilliance, but makes people feel dirty and frightened for no reason.

The second officiant was in Akers, delivering passionate preaching in the military camp. Morse noticed that Camp Ax was empty, at least half of it. He also killed this man.

He already knew the dilemma Perturabo was about to face, but he would be surprised if the boy couldn't solve it.

The third priest was traveling in the wilderness of the mountains. Morse confirmed that he was still on the road to an unknown destination, so he killed him.

The fourth officiant fell into the night's bliss, and Morse killed him.

The location of the fifth officiant made Morse almost laugh. Of course, a religion that talks about fearing doomsday and judgment every day is undoubtedly closely related to the black doomsday itself.

He killed the fool who was sending a message to the Olympian satellite via one of the few remaining communication beepers.

As for the satellite itself, the stark contrast between the stability of reality and the unlimited behavior there is laughable.

He had no intention of forcing a conflict with their anti-psionic heritage derived from dark technology before he was fully prepared - especially since he had other priorities at the moment.

The remaining breath of the sixth officiant was particularly fragrant, like dream and dew, pure and beautiful. Morse's restless pursuit continued until he located the specific location of this person.

He opened his eyes, took a quick breath, put the five gems in his hand into a black cloth bag that appeared out of thin air, and jumped down from the top of the bell tower.

Thanks to Mr. Orz, the boss of Kudeng Night Talk