Chapter 487 The Changes Are Not over Yet

Chapter 486 Changes are not over yet

The bloody wind carried the smoke and oil mist in the air, and dark, messy and abandoned defense circles extended in the color of rusty iron. Buildings not far away were still burning, and suffocating black smoke rose to the sky. Snipers on the rooftops overlooked the square streets below.

Ctesias tried to say something to Ahriman, something about the Great Tizca City, describing everything here that had not yet been destroyed. But he found that he had no words to use, and nothing cold and sharp, which he could see but Ahriman could not see.

Azak was the one who stood at the crossroads and witnessed the torrent of souls being taken away by the incarnation of the Emperor. He might know more about the atrocities that had occurred in this hell than the surviving Tizcans themselves. Those moments of death were witnessed by the Templar lecturers one by one.

This hurried their steps, allowing their landing craft to boldly land on the transfer platform in the city that had been half-destroyed by artillery fire, in the hope of ending the war as soon as possible? Expelling the Shadow Moon Wolves? Or find a way to get the dark sun, which symbolizes the gaze of the Tyrant Star, to leave the sky above Great Tizca?

They have too many things to do quickly. Time is like the sharp teeth of a hound, chasing the heels of their heavy chains, and the teeth tear blood from them.

Ctesias shook his head. His ears had already caught a familiar sound, the humming of the Space Marine's power armor when it was running.

Ctesias accumulated the power to call for the storm of the mind between his fingers, paying attention to Ahriman's movements to decide his next move. I don't know when this place became extremely unsuitable for the use of psychic power. Their every move seemed to be directly watched by some higher terrifying existence. He could only cautiously stir up a limited wave.

Under Azak's blank mask, he felt that the etheric aura was fluctuating, but it did not turn to the furious side. This means that the person coming is not the Shadow Moon Wolf, but their companion.

However, he also felt another subtle and delicate thing, which turned deeply into the undercurrent in the deep sea of ​​emotions.

The melancholy soul of the Chief Librarian, who had erected a solid defense, was shaken by the identity of the visitor. This seemed unlikely to happen to a man like Ahriman, or should not belong to the Ahriman in most people's minds.

"Wait," Ahriman said loudly, raising a hand to stop the Thousand Dust Suns behind him, facing the metal color that appeared from behind a building. His mask was facing forward, hiding his expression.

"Azak Ahriman," this voice made Ctesias feel completely unfamiliar, but some people in the team seemed to recognize him, and a small wave of fluctuations rose among them, like the ripples of the Tizca Harbor in the Valperin Sea.

Ahriman did not step forward. "Frix," he said coldly, "you have been away for many years, I don't understand why you returned at this time."

"You may think I am dead, no, we have our own tasks. Now we happen to return here, so we can help you protect Prospero." Frix said dully, his voice as flat as metal, a typical voice of an iron warrior.

About a dozen Iron Warriors followed him, along with some members of the Spire Guard. These Iron Warriors, whose armor was slightly outdated, were indeed on the same side as the Great Tizca.

Ahriman paused, and fell silent. Ctesias couldn't help but wonder what Azak was thinking. A long-awaited reunion?

"You came to greet me?" Azak Ahriman said.

"Yes," Fricks admitted, his next words becoming lighter, "It's nice to see you again. I'm a warsmith now, and you?"

Ahriman seemed to nod, and Ctesias guessed that this sudden reunion made Ahriman feel mixed emotions. His hands clenched into a fist, faintly trembling.

The Chief Librarian replied: "I thank the Iron Warriors for their selflessness, but now is not the time for us to reminisce, Kedomo. Is the current command tower in the Pyramid of Frotep or the Great Library? Where is Amon?"

"Amon is in the Silver Fortress on the south side, and we are commanding in the Great Library. If you are ready to go to the Great Library, you can return with me in a transport vehicle."

The two expressionless helmets faced each other, and smoke and dust rolled in the background around them.

"Take me to... the Great Library. In addition, I am the Chief Librarian now, Kedomo." Ahriman said softly, and Ctesias heard a hint of bitterness.

Frex nodded his helmet, and he strode forward and approached Ahriman.

——

If the edge of the turbulent waves is regarded as a tangible wave line, then the web of fate is interwoven by countless vast turbulences.

The changeling watched the Great Tizca in the flames of war, and let go of its invisible, anthropomorphic hand. A thread connected to the mortal woman Callista Ores was pulled out, and a knot extending from it was burned. A broken fate was wiped out by humans in their instinctive resistance.

Foolish humans are naturally fragile, but with their tenacious perseverance and rich emotions, they have become the favorite planning tools of the Lord of Change - and the changeling knows that a qualified plan can never consider only one possibility.

There is still a thread left in its hand, connected to a more tangled and complex knot, and the results leading to it are not even all in favor of the power of destruction.

Its behavior at this time should be called hesitation among humans: should it do this? For greater changes and entertainment, should it pull this thread?

Oh, of course. Its patience with order has been exhausted in waiting. It pulled one end of the silk thread and wove a cradle-like flower rope net between eighteen fingers. In the net bag was a person's face, a face of a person with some power and importance... It was one of the relay points favored by fate, difficult to reach directly, it needed some springboards.

The cradle flower rope slid away from the stone face, suddenly framed another unnoticed Space Marine, and then teleported to the next one, and the next one... A weak enough entry point, a mind full of delusions will be the best invisible door between reality and unreality-

A seriously injured brave warrior, running and stumbling towards Prospero's control tower: a messenger delivering a message, taking advantage of the brief ceasefire on the western front of the Great Tizca, personally sent the situation of the bombed northern lift platform back to the Tizca Library, which is now the command tower.

He was drowsy, dragged to the brink of collapse by the fatigue of the past few days, so when he blinked the next time, the creature who woke up had another ruthless and happy look.

The changeling ran happily across the street full of deep pits. The whole building collapsed in front of it. It crawled over with difficulty like a weak human, welcoming the inspection of the monitoring equipment floating in the air. It bowed respectfully outside the library and hurriedly told the officer on duty that it had something important to report.

The officer stared at it, inviting it to take a breath, and ordered it to tell what it saw and heard, and the officer would complete the transmission. The Iron Warriors set these strict wartime regulations. A soldier had no right to enter the command tower. Alas, it used Kalista too casually last time.

It coughed and spit out the information that the warrior wanted to convey in a broken voice. The officer faithfully recorded every word it said.

Its voice became smaller and smaller. When it finally finished speaking, it gently pulled out its entity from this body. The next moment, the officer reached out in surprise and sadness to catch the soldier's dead body.

The spirit of change felt the officer's momentary pain and gently entered the officer's brain from the crack in his heart. Time resumed its flow after a short period of stickiness.

The spirit of change held the soldier's body and solemnly called the other on-duty personnel. With suppressed grief and anger, he warned them that they must properly bury a hero. Then he turned around hurriedly, and his military boots made a fast-paced clicking sound on the tiles of the Great Library.

It passed through the identity verification points set up by the Iron Warriors with a frown on its face. Yes, yes, a soldier sent a message that he was dead. I must quickly inform the Space Marines of this. The commander must want to know that the soldier died. That's right...

It approached the top of the pyramid along the stairs, where it felt the traces left by the Lord of Change more than a hundred years ago. It was a pity that Magnus had already swept away the remnants of the mark, otherwise it would not need to transfer through so many layers - no, if there was still a crack from the power of the Great Changer, the entire City of Light would have fallen into the Crystal Labyrinth.

A Thousand Dust Sun stood outside the door, straightening its back, asking sadly and stubbornly which generals were now inside, and it had a message from the dead.

There was no expression on the blank mask of the Thousand Dust Sun, but the spirit of change tasted the touch in the other party's heart, and it added a little shadow to that touch. The Thousand Dust Sun spoke in a low and dry voice: "Commander Fricks is here, I will inform you."

The spirit of change nodded anxiously, and another dangerous pressure began to descend on its head. It was the real evil god who was really paying attention to Prospero, and it was the dark projection brought by the throne tyrant bred by humans.

Its senses rose, and it carefully separated part of the officer's body, watching the edge of the black sun entwined and bitten like a fire snake, and an extreme fear suddenly emerged in its heart. This was a real tremor it had never experienced, enough to completely destroy its existence and burn it completely... and the battle within the Chaos Gods never stops, and the front and back of reality are the chessboards of the gods.

Then, the intervention of an external force is definitely enough to anger the Dark Throne who regards humans as a piece of cake.

The spirit of change fell back into the officer's body, adjusting its uncontrolled and unfamiliar fear.

It knew that it would soon be driven from the mortal world by the wrath of the fifth unborn great power. It had little time left, and it had not yet thought of how it should take the last step. Even though it came from the other side of the ocean that controls change, the deep sea of ​​dreams, this mortal world has been set by a future true god - fear, its fear must be controlled, no, its fear must be used.

"Tell me the information you brought," Fricks's flat and calm voice came from inside the door, and the screen of the data board in the hands of the Thousand Dust Sun lit up. The change spirit had no chance to contact the other party directly, even though it theoretically carried the last breath of a heroic dead. His strictness protected him, but that was not eternal.

Nothing is eternal, especially humans, humans with sensitive and passionate hearts.

The change spirit announced its existence to the Black Sun, instigating the Dark Throne to take action.

The wrath of the cold-blooded Great Destroyer quickly found it, and at the moment it controlled the officer to speak, a segment of the wrath of the Black Sun surged out from the terrifying light. The Changeling apologized cheerfully to its master, and more power of the Warp was mobilized from the rolling waves of fate to fight against the Black Sun.

Within a heartbeat, the power of Tzeentch and the Dark Lord clashed fiercely in the reflection of the Sea of ​​Dreams at the top of the Great Pyramid. The Changeling heard nine thousand shadows of Tzeentch begin to curse and extinguish the black flames in the Crystal Library, and nine hundred mouths were cursing the Changeling's rash actions.

It seemed that it had brought a wildfire to its master's home, but this was all within the plan.

The waves of conflict continued to spread, and the officer's body was rolled into a pile of burning powder. The Dark Lord's limited but terrifying eyes focused on this. The Thousand Dust Sun next to the officer knelt on the ground in uncontrollable fear. The Changeling knew that the Thousand Dust Sun would not doubt, because all the traces left in the present world belonged to the Dark Lord's unrestrained rage.

Across the wall, Fricks also covered his chest, struggling to escape the shadow of darkness, and angrily and silently cursed the madness and cruelty that erupted from the Dark Throne. His mental defense line finally had no time to care about anything else.

Of course, only the gods created by humans themselves can destroy humans.

The Changeling blinked its thousand eyes, releasing the Chaos Tide it had mobilized with all its might, and the Dark Lord's power receded.

Riding the retreating tide, its entity broke through the tight defenses of the top of the Great Pyramid of Tizca, and its invisible gaze met the cold and hollow eyes of the Warsmith. A flame pierced the forehead of the Warsmith's tough soul, followed the crack left by the Dark Lord, and burned the etheric spirit of the Warsmith fighting fear into a wisp of iron-ash smoke.

Fricks' body stiffened instantly, and fell into a trembling stillness. His hand sometimes moved to the control console, and sometimes moved away with difficulty, and was tightly grasped by another hand. He knelt at the table, convulsing violently, trying his best to control his behavior. He raised his upper body, and his fingers trembled as he slid across the edge of the table. His nails intended to scratch some marks, but only messy scratches were left.

On the screen, a series of pearly white small ships in orbit burst into sparks and quickly destroyed, a force that had just arrived defeated them. A message popped up almost happily: the flagship of the 15th Legion, the Queen of Glory-class Radiance, has returned to the vicinity of Prospero.

Then, that psychic spark was undoubtedly the masterpiece of Azak Ahriman.

At the same time, the Luna Wolves on the ground received the same message. Their temporarily slowed attack momentum suddenly rose again, and the bombing area on the west side of the Great Tizca that had just subsided was once again raising dust haze. The Primarch's attendant Amon at the front of the fortress has begun to order a new round of counterattacks, and ammunition and fire are once again filled in the air.

Slowly, Fricks stood up, fell again, and then stood up again. After several twists and turns, a series of buttons began to be pressed by the war blacksmith very reluctantly.

The lock sequence of the defense cannons of the Tizca Library began to be released one by one. Fricks tried his best to resist the other will that occupied his mind. The obstacles he brought to the change spirit were greater than it expected, but it was ultimately within the limits of its mortal ability.

The change spirit pushed Kedomo Fricks aside, letting him and the remnants of the power of the Dark Lord entangled in the corner of its body. Oh, it chose the right thing. Even if the fifth power has not really arrived, it is not difficult to capture a poor soul of the corresponding race.

Disputes, conflicts, it likes to induce all of this, as well as the impermanent changes that follow.

Half of the change spirit's eyes looked into the upstream of time and saw that before coming here, Azak Ahriman had stepped into a - what? A place where even the Lord of Change could not see the inside, a crossroads where power surged, a cold and shining lighthouse.

It was really strange, an unplanned variable, an unknown hidden danger, the change spirit believed that the master he served would definitely like it.

In any case, when Ahriman stepped out again, he stepped into the vast ocean of fate and returned to the visible range.

And the muzzle of the Great Tizca gradually aimed at a target that the changer found interesting.

What would the warriors of the Thousand Dust Sun think if Prospero greeted her child with artillery fire?

The changer's plan was proceeding step by step, thoughts were winding like snakes, and the lines outlined by the waves of fate became clearer and clearer. A series of foreseeable futures were recorded in the crystal book still burned by the flames of the Dark Lord as part of the plan.

Let's see, the changer said to Fricks, how they will react when they find out that this attack comes from within?

Fricks' will struggled again, and the changer forced Fricks to reach out and prepare to press the last start button. Fricks' fingers trembled and almost touched the surface of the button, but at that moment, he broke out a final resistance and pulled his hand back.

The changer relaxed his control slightly and pretended to give in, and Fricks fell to the console panting.

The changeling gave Fricks some time to rest and hope, leaving a little breathing space for him, hoping that he would make some unusual resistance, such as kicking away the influence of the Dark Lord, or taking the opportunity to do something else.

It waited for a while, and then organized the firing of the turret for the second time with great expectation. What kind of counterattack would it get this time?

Fricks' body had already reached out to the last control button of the defense gun, ready to start the full gun firing. Just on the last letter of the last instruction, its hand suddenly trembled violently, and an incorrect variable that did not meet the regulations disrupted the entire sequence.

The target of the second firing sequence shifted instantly, and no target was hit except the universe itself. And except for the sparks created in the atmosphere above the Great Tizca, nothing happened in the world.

At the same time, due to the wrong command, the control authority on this side was automatically locked.

Oh, this is troublesome, the changeling stared at the annoying soul of Fricks depressedly, and took advantage of the opponent's weakness after the counterattack to completely seize control of the body.

Fricks' body began to twitch violently, and his eyes gradually became blurred. At least it succeeded in snatching this guy's body, the changeling thought, slightly annoyed, knowing that fate had changed again.

According to the preset regulations, the control of the turret has been automatically transferred to Amon, another supreme commander of the battlefield, and if you want to run to seize the body of a psychic master who is truly good at the warp magic under the watchful eyes of the Dark Lord, it will not be as simple as the Iron Warriors.

Fricks' body slowly stood up, and the changeling put on a helmet for him to cover his expression that was easy to detect. Space Marines have an extraordinary sensitivity to the identity of their companions. The seeds of the Warp flow in their bodies and blood, which constitutes a rich connection with countless possibilities.

However, it is not over yet, warriors. The changeling thought happily, turning and walking towards the other end of the Great Tizca. At the same time, it began to imitate the boring and stubborn tone of the Iron Warriors and issued a series of orders to welcome the return of the Radiant Light.

——

Frex got close to Ahriman, and Ahriman acquiesced to the other's approach and waited in silence. To be honest, this made Ctesias feel a little strange.

Ahriman's pride in a sense often erected an invisible arc between him and his cousins ​​in other legions, even the Iron Warriors who had a very good relationship with the gene fathers of both sides. In fact, his interaction with the Iron Warriors can be described as restrained, making it hard to imagine that he once called a soldier of the Fourth Legion friends.

"Let's go." Frex said.

Ahriman's mask tilted to a certain angle, with a kind of thought that had ended.

"You are forcing me," he whispered. "You know I still remember Kedomo Fricks."

After a few seconds, Fricks replied, "I don't understand."

Ahriman smiled.

"I can hear his voice, servant of the ocean, his voice still flows in every beat of his heart, his sharp thoughts still warn me. I cannot ignore your blasphemous existence, and you are happy to show it in front of me. And you seem to think that I dare not act in front of the Iron Warrior, that I have concerns. Does this contrast entertain you?"

A wave of heat surged up instantly, and Ahriman's existence reflected in the other world condensed into a ball of boiling fire, forcibly breaking through the layers of black fog under the gaze of the dark sun, and the sharp edge of the flame decisively cut through the outer edge of his existence in front of him.

"Or do you think we will be easily instigated and easily fight each other?" Ahriman smiled. "You are blind, aren't you? You don't think I can't bear to kill you, are you?"

Frix's body screamed in pain, and Ahriman's laughter spread terrifyingly along the waves of invisible flames.

"I am glad to see you again, Kedomo," Ahriman said, his laughter was devoid of joy, as cold as a piece of steel sunk to the bottom of the sea. He grasped Frix's strong shoulders with both hands, and black fire marks burned under his gauntlets.

He continued to murmur: "I am sorry too. After so many years, so many rumors... I actually didn't believe you really left."

"Ahriman!" Someone in the team shouted, not just one person.

Even the Iron Warriors, who were not very sensitive to the warp, felt the surge of the fire wave - and, of course, they could hear the commander's scream.

A gun was raised, followed by more guns and cannons. Half of the guns belonged to the Iron Warriors, and half of the guns belonged to the Thousand Dust Sun.

High in the sky, the gaze of the Dark Sun was also approaching, and Ahriman's psychic power attracted the attention of the Dark Throne.

Ctesias felt his sanity was falling apart in the terrifying darkness. In a trance, he could already feel the sound of gunfire and fire around him. It seemed that the two sides had already started fighting, and it seemed that the blood and lightning were just illusions under fear and destruction - no, someone could really start fighting at any time without control. Not everyone is good at cultivating mental resistance.

Ctesias realized this, and at the same time, the invisible darkness that burned him in his chest was coughed out by him, mixed with blood and sprayed on the ground.

In his unconscious perception, he looked up at Ahriman's tower-like red figure. Azak Ahriman stood behind the prism of twisted flames, his figure slightly twisted. The Chief Think Tank's smooth mask was burning with deadly flames, part of which belonged to the damage brought to him by the darkness, and part of which belonged to himself.

"Ahriman!" Ctesias shouted.

Ahriman was motionless, and the power he had stirred up was still fighting against the "servant of the ocean" he called it. Only then did Ctesias realize that it had been less than a minute since the burning of the invisible fire began, but the duration they felt was far longer than the countless moments that could be accumulated during this period.

Azak's determination and indifference had surpassed all the characteristics he had ever possessed. He had become something like a diamond, hard and easy to break, but the day of breaking would never be now.

Ctesias shouted again: "Enough! There is nothing there!"

Ahriman was stunned for a moment, he loosened his hand for a moment, and then grabbed him before Frix's body really fell.

The Iron Warrior's armor fell heavily into his arms, and his hand stretched up, seemed to brush across Ahriman's profile, and then fell down powerlessly.

From Ctesias's angle, he could not see any details.

The power of the High Heaven spread, and a shrill laugh with the joy of returning home drifted in the wind brought by the flames.

Ctesias slowly stood up and found himself in the firing arc of three guns at the same time. He glanced at Ahriman's back.

Ahriman took off the visor of the iron body he was holding, and a handful of fine ash flew out of the armor and scattered.

His figure stopped, but the silence was only the length of a breath. The Iron Warriors looked in his direction silently, perhaps they were looking at their lost commander, or perhaps they were looking at Ahriman himself.

"Put down your guns, my brother, and my cousin." Azak Ahriman said loudly, "This is not a betrayal or murder. Your commander was replaced by the evil of the warp, which is infuriating, and I helped him get rid of it. This is the whole truth.

"I don't want any misunderstandings. There are enough contradictions between us due to misunderstandings. Now all we need is trust.

"There are too many forces in the dark that are watching our existence. The servants of the ocean may come back at any time, setting up more tricks and bringing more undetectable sins. The darkness intends to play with us, bind us, and use us, and we will not succumb."

He paused and repeated coldly again: "I'm sorry."

Ctesias waited for the other party to ask for evidence, and at the same time calculated whether they could successfully defeat these Iron Warriors without relying on psychic power.

Preparation for the confrontation must be made in advance. He didn't think Ahriman could convince the stubborn warriors of the Iron Warriors with a few words.

And, yes, it was difficult for them to explain to those who did not understand the rules of the warp what Ahriman had found - in fact, even Ctesias was not sure whether Ahriman had really found a flaw, or... a very bad possibility: whether the Chief Librarian's mind had been damaged during this voyage, so that he misunderstood everything he saw.

His fingers curled up, and then, to his surprise, the Iron Warriors really put down their guns one by one.

"We believe you, Lord Ahriman." A warrior said, his voice was bitter like copper rust. "Thank you for your decisiveness, and apologize for our negligence. If you agree, come with us back to the Great Library. We will do the rest of the explanation to everyone."

"I thank you for your understanding." Ahriman nodded, continued to hold the empty and hot iron armor, and turned back to face his battle brothers.

At that moment, with a sudden sensibility, Ctesias seemed to understand why Ahriman had gained the trust of the Iron Warriors.

A burnt black finger mark traced the bottom edge of the eyepiece of Azak Ahriman's left eye, leaving a deep curved arc. The burn mark then cut vertically through the blank visor and fell off halfway.

Like a tear mark on a mask.

"Let's go to the Great Library. Prospero's burning should be over. I will end it." Ahriman said, blood overflowing from the bottom edge of the broken eyepiece and filling the brand on his visor.