The previous touch disappeared, taking away the fear, replaced by a sense of shame.
The soldier lowered his hands and opened his eyes - there was nothing hidden near the ceiling.
The dormitory is the same as before, except that the floor is now a mess.
The scream bounced off the walls, tearing at Arthur with its terror and pain.
His shame forced him to take action.
The soldier climbed from his bunk, awkwardly putting on his boots, and stumbled down the aisle.
The scream came from a hundred meters away from the dormitory.
He rushed to the door, trying to overcome the shame in his heart. His fear of things made him violate his faith in the empire. He would bring comfort and reason to the tortured people to redeem himself.
But when he came to the door of another dormitory, the screams changed.
It began to grow harsh and harsh, choked by the terrible damp heat for a moment, and then began again with a higher pitch.
To Arthur's ears, it seemed like there were two voices, the screams blending together to form a desperate chorus.
He broke through the makeshift wooden door, and his comrade George was standing in the middle of the dormitory with his back to him.
He was alone, his shoulders shaking. His arms were up, his elbows out, as if hands were on his face, and both screams came from him.
Arthur swallowed his throat and walked through the bunks on both sides towards his comrades in the company.
"George?"
he yelled, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, but loud enough for the other person to hear him.
But when he got closer, he saw that George was actually standing in a pool of blood that was spreading.
"George!?"
He shouted again, but his composure and will were deserting him, and terror struck him again.
Slowly, his former comrade turned around.
For a moment, Arthur took a few steps back and his face turned deathly pale.
He saw that his comrade had torn his own throat open, and his skin and muscles hung on his throat like tattered curtains. Blood soaked his coat and covered his hands.
But his mouth was still open, but he no longer made any sound.
However, the screams still did not stop, and the two screams were still made by one person.
The scream now became two opposing syllables, which together became one word - death.
This is a crazy and desperate prayer.
George knelt down, his life force was constantly draining from his body, then he raised his hands in front of his eyes, inserted them into his eye sockets, dug his fingers deeply, and pulled tightly, as if tearing the flesh from the corpse.
Soon, his hands were covered with minced meat of gelatinous tissue, and he collapsed.
"No--"
Arthur took a step back, his eyes still filled with terrible fear.
The worst terrors seized hold of his sanity like a cancer.
At this moment, he heard the footsteps of ceramite boots behind him, turned around and saw the Commissar and Space Marines.
But the god of salvation came too late. He could no longer feel at ease and could no longer erase the fear in his soul.
His original awe when facing them had been overwhelmed by the most terrible terror. He stared closely at Yaric's livid face and said the most terrible words.
"His eyes."
George whispered.
"It's his eyes that scream—"
After saying that, he pulled out the dagger on his boot at an extremely fast speed and cut the trachea and blood vessels of his throat while Yarick screamed.
This caught Alex off guard.
However, Arthur, who committed suicide, did not fall, he did not even bleed, but turned to Soshyan.
The window panes on both sides of the dormitory creaked, and then suddenly, the temperature plummeted inexplicably.
The water froze on the glass, forming a twisted crystal painting. At the moment when his head suddenly twisted in a circle, the entire posture of the mortal in front of him changed.
He was now fully upright, with his shoulders straightened, as if he were standing in front of a timid subordinate, and his lips seemed tense and numb, or a condescending sneer.
More importantly, his eyes turned into black spiral material structures.
"Who are you."
"I am the singer of souls."
He said, his voice echoing in the cracked abyss of warp space.
"And you are the harvest."
"Pretend to be a ghost."
Soshiyang pulled out the Sheng Yan Sword so fast that the moment the sword tip left the scabbard, he pressed the activation rune of the force field.
The moment he drew his sword, he turned to attack, slashing across the shoulders of what was once Arthur.
The soldier's body rippled when the Shengyan Sword cut through him, and his arrogant smile stretched to inhuman proportions.
The smile split the face and swallowed it, and the trembling figure was sucked into a crack in the real space along with the head, like the sticky tentacles of some cnidarian.
Then, the crack suddenly closed, leaving behind a trace of breath, as if it came from every world it killed.
Soshiyang frowned, tightened his gaze, and felt like a hunter the traces left by the energy generated when the other party teleported.
Suddenly, he turned around to face the entrance and saw Arthur appearing behind a group of dull-eyed soldiers, as if stepping out of an invisible curtain.
Tendrils of evil energy twisted around his charred uniform.
His skin was charred, as if he had just jumped through a flame, and his dark eye sockets and bulging face were eye-catching.
However, he still maintained that proud smile.
"This is a traitor."
Arthur did not shout, but Soshyan could feel that every word he spoke was exuding bursts of spiritual power, seeping into the surrounding soldiers, like the heat of the sun spreading on black rocks.
"Back off."
Soshyan activated the gray marrow, and the laser gun aimed at him suddenly wavered.
"You are soldiers of the Emperor!"
Arthur screamed, and his energy blast caused the Wavers to tremble back to their feet, and even Soshyan's gray marrow could not suppress it.
This was the first time he encountered a subspace enemy that Gray Marrow could not defeat.
Its power was so powerful that he was shocked.
"kill him!"
All the soldiers opened fire at the same time, and the sound was like a pair of acetylene torches in an oxygen-starved room.
Thunderbolts as hot as the sun shot out from the overheated barrel, focusing on Soshyan.
Under such intense firepower, it was impossible to dodge. Soshyan took a step sideways and blocked himself in front of Yarrick.
Within a second, the entire platoon was pouring firepower on him.
Fierce volleys of laser beams passed through the Terminator armor, carving tiny burn marks on it.
And Yarick, who was behind Soshyan, immediately recovered from the shock. The first thing he did was to take off the grenade from his waist, and then threw it towards the door without hesitation - since the war was opened,
He habitually prepared a grenade on his body.
Only he himself knows the effect best.
boom--!
Although blocked in mid-air by psychic energy, the grenade still exploded in time.
While the gunpowder smoke was still filling the air, Soshiyang had already rushed forward and pierced a person with the Holy Flame Sword.
As he pulled the finely crafted blade from the charred corpse, blood seeped from the soldier's pores.
Then a bayonet stabbed him in the hip.
The Sheng Yan Sword spun around, resisting the attack, shattering the bones of the attacker's arms, and cutting the laser gun in half.