When Talos did not train new recruits, he spent most of his time in the huge independent cabin assigned to him by Soshiyan, where he had his personal armament and bedroom, and even an independent training ground. His treatment was almost no less than that of the commander of the battle.
But there were some rumors circulating among the war group servants, claiming that the mysterious company commander's cabin was pitch black like a cave all year round, and that the constant temperature system had been in a low temperature for a long time.
So dark and deep, few servants are willing to approach it unless they are absolutely necessary.
Talos sat on the base of a statue as always, naked, revealing his pale skin and scars all over it, holding a bone-like object in his hand, carving.
He was surrounded by various carvings, all of which were palm-sized heads, each of which was lifelike.
A little unruly, some are cruel, some are crazy, some are sad-
There are a lot of them, there are hundreds of them.
Suddenly, the doorbell of the cabin rang.
“The door is not locked.”
The door opened and a body walked in gently. The originally dim lights in the cabin became brighter because of the intruders.
"What's up."
Talos did not look up and was still focused on his carving.
“There are... some problems.”
Sabrin stood more than 20 meters away from Talos. He was wearing a daily training suit, with sweat remaining on his forehead and ends of his hair. It was obvious that he had just finished training.
“Then say it.”
Sabrin looked hesitant. After he wandered for a moment, he took a deep breath, as if he was encouraging himself, and then spoke:
"Company Commander, I have been checking the information of the Eighth Legion in the archives these days."
Talos was still carving, and the expression on his face remained unchanged.
"Oh, I got it."
"Well... Company Commander, don't you want to ask me why I did this."
"If I don't ask, you will say that it's not your personality."
Sabrin breathed a sigh of relief from his belly, then found a piece of stone and sat on it.
"Company Commander, why... did you... join the Astral Knight?"
"Because Soshyan saved my life."
“That’s all?”
"Just talk about the topic directly, I guess you are not here to care about me."
"I...the Eighth Legion...we..."
Sabrin seemed unable to organize his words for a moment. After hesitating for a long time, he scratched his hair with both hands in annoyance.
Finally, he only had three words popped up.
"Why?"
A mocking smile appeared on Talos's face. He quickly squashed with a carving knife, then raised the carving in his hand and looked at the light for a moment.
This is a face mixed with arrogance and ferocity, as well as subtle cunning, and is also Talos's former superior, "Supreme" Van Zhuod.
"There are not so many whys, I chose you, so you became the sons of night, that's that simple."
Putting the statue aside, Talos picked up the new engraving material.
"But we—"
Sabrin pressed his hand on his chest excitedly. He had just stood up a little, then slowly sat back on the stone and shook his head weakly.
“……We are descendants of traitors.”
"traitor?"
Talos raised his eyebrows and looked at him sternly.
"You just think you are a traitor?"
"But... what the Lord of Midnight did."
"I know you met that boy Amon, so I'll ask you now, are you willing to join such a thing?"
Sabrin shook his head vigorously.
"No."
"Why, isn't he your blood brother?"
"I hate him, I'm disgusted with my heart. I'm not going to be Astart to become that kind of thing!"
"So why do you think you are a traitor?"
"But after all... did the commander of the War Clan do this without violating the Imperial Law?"
Talos smiled slightly.
"The Astartes's sacred book only stipulates the number of people and equipment, but does not mandate that a group can only be composed of one type of gene seed."
"Ah this-"
Sabrin was stunned for a moment, and then realized that it seemed like this was the case.
He was a little confused for a moment, and thought for a long time and finally squeezed out a sentence.
"But if the court..."
"Our leader seems to care about the Inquisition?"
“This is indeed…”
Sabrin thought for a while and suddenly grabbed a point.
"If the commander of the battle doesn't care, why should we be secret companies?"
Talos stopped his work.
"Ah, that's right. He has some concerns after all, but such concerns will soon be gone, and you will be able to appear in front of other companies openly."
"Yeah......"
Sabrin lowered his head, not sure what he was thinking.
"Company Commander... Then why do you train us like this? Wouldn't it be nice to have us like other combat brothers of the Astral Knights? Since you abandoned the legion of the past, why should you make us the same as them?"
"Do you think you're the same as them?"
Sablin nodded.
“…..some aspects.”
"Then what do you think is the reason why the Midnight Lord became like this?"
Sabrin thought for a moment, then replied in a very uncertain tone:
"Is it because of... the madness of the primordial body?"
"What else?"
"Bingyuan's......problem?"
Talos smiled and shook his head.
"But you have neither seen the Prim nor were you from Northram."
“………but our mode of action.”
“Fear is a weapon.”
Talos suddenly interrupted Sabrin.
"I used to teach you this way. Do you think this sentence was taught to the Legion by the Primarch?"
“Isn’t it?”
Talos shook his head again.
"There was already this sentence before the return of the Primrose. It... was taught to the Eighth Legion by the Emperor."
"this--"
"Many legions will change after finding the Primarch and its home world, but the Eighth Regiment is not the case. Among all legions, we change the least after the return of the Gene Primarch. Of course, the change exists, but it is very subtle. As the number of Nostram recruits exceeds the old Terra, Nostram became the language of the Eighth Legion. The twisted runes and venomous sentences spread inside the legion, and the temperament of the Legion gradually became dark and had a certain cruelty.
A sense of humor, and a mean and vicious fatalism... The Legion adopted a new tradition, and morbidly portrayed the rituals and customs of the Northram gangs, such as painting the hands of convicted Legion soldiers in blood red, indicating that they were facing a death verdict. Many senior legion officials began to use honorary titles in a conventional manner, which was also the cultural heritage of the Nostram aristocratic court and horror aesthetics. Although these changes were obvious, they did not touch the essence of the Eighth Legion."
Sabrin listened and blinked.
"Essence...What is the essence of the Eighth Legion?"
"The essence is a barbaric weapon...Koz's return is nothing more than converting the justice of the legion into a strong desire for punishment. Their fighting style has not changed. Moreover, the integration of Terra and Nostrami warriors is the fastest of all legions. The old and new legions are like the front and back of silver coins. What do you think is the reason?"