Chapter 68: Near and far, planning and destruction
"Ashes... in the endless light and heat, will only leave the final ashes..."
In the endless subspace, more than one pair of eyes woke up for Calvin's first cry.
For the first time, he exercised the complete Primarch level power. After struggling to release a truly "tactical level" power, he finally touched the perceptions of those who were the real authorities in the realm of chaos.
"What is this?"
In the God of Life's kingdom that has no physical meaning, at the interface between dreams and reality, a unique oak tree is endlessly changing between life, death, and prosperity.
When Calvin's power shines across the far shore of reality, under the strangely knotted trunk of this huge, twisted sacred tree, Mortarion is awakening from the sleep bestowed by his loving father Nurgle. p>
His withered, moss-like, gray and cracked skin was recovering from the curled cracks, and moist disease abscesses and fluids were surging under the skin;
The dust-like spores in the shriveled alveoli rushed out of the mouth and nose with a hoarse voice, and began to spread the deadly disease in the air again.
The skinny big hand with no muscles and only skin and bones grasped the war scythe named "Death Silence".
"What is this? A compromise? Or is it another pointless struggle for you?"
It's like waking up from an old dream that spanned a long night, and the corners of the mouth that have lost their flexibility are cracked and broken.
But he ignored the pain and still murmured to himself:
"What kind of monster have you created this time because of your stupidity?
Psychic?
Purify?
Redemption?
How ridiculous!
How sad!
But no matter what, I will personally chop off his head as a reward and response to you!
My...father!"
As his 7-meter-tall inhuman body stood up straight, the insect wings that shrank behind him like broken curtains suddenly unfolded!
The spore airwaves carrying the deadly plague and virus carried the hot and humid air, and were spread to every part of the planet by the power of his hatred!
In the distant sky, there is the shadow of a huge green battleship covered with moss and fungi approaching from the sky, breaking through the barrier of gray fog and approaching the earth full of corruption and mutation.
That was the team of his bodyguards, the 26 divinely chosen champions of Pale Shroud, who came to greet him after feeling his awakening.
Dark green raindrops fell from the sky, and while the thick fog temporarily dissipated under the wash of the rain, with every drop of rain falling, new species emerged from the ground but died instantly.
Delivered by the warship's empty cabin like a tree, 26 tall Astartes warriors gathered in front of him, holding the same huge scythe that represented death as their father.
"Where is Typhons? Still in the Eye of Terror?"
The death shrouds did not answer, acquiescing to his guess in silence.
"Okay, then Zaratul, oh...this name. I should remember him..."
Mortarion looked at his remaining 26 favorite children, and then recalled something in their puzzled eyes.
The existence represented by that name has now completely disappeared in the long river of destiny, and even with the help of his loving father's power, he cannot find traces of the past.
He lowered his pale head in pain, but could not find the answer to his request in this accustomed feeling.
"Pain, well, pain is my fate. Let's go... I may have remembered something wrong... But no matter what, we have something new to do..."
In the more distant kingdoms of the gods, there are also demon princes or demon princes who are awakened by the power of Calvin.
Because of their different positions and bloodlines, they were either happy or angry about Calvin's existence.
But what coincides with this is that they are all gathering in the name of fate and conspiracy in the timeless silence of the gods...
Calvin was still standing alone on the bridge of the Pale Wing, thinking alone as the battleship groaned in pain after suffering his torture.
He didn't feel any immediate threat:
Because of his special origin, the essence of his power is more inclined to sorting out fate and concluding the final result of reality. (It’s a very long sentence. I’m afraid you might have trouble reading it, so I forcibly added a comma. This is because I don’t have enough writing skills.
Please forgive me for my performance.)
His psychic ability to predict the future is almost completely blocked.
Unlike other psykers who peer into the future endlessly, only when a critical moment comes, Calvin will have an intuitive judgment on the different directions that specific options will lead to.
He is now paying the price for his reckless anger.
The verdict of the full-out blow he just made out of anger was so terrifying that his body was not immune to damage.
That was the first time since he entered adolescence that he had exerted all his strength.
The consequences of the soul's full response are not just immediate destruction.
Even he himself could not withstand such a powerful blessing.
Black and red venous blood flowed out from his nostrils uncontrollably. While soaking his clothes, it also accumulated into a pool on the floor full of embers.
"Well..."
Calvin held his forehead in pain.
The bitter consequences of his reckless performance were demanding the price from him. A large number of dead cells in his brain stem were silently accusing him in the black blood dripping in front of him.
He wanted to take a rest, but the planet's surface was clearly visible outside the battleship's porthole window.
There was a new subspace reaction at Manzeville Point in the distance. He knew that if the delay continued, the enemies who would come back for reinforcements would arrive in an instant.
"Let's go!"
He took one last look at the scene of the tragedy he had caused on the bridge, and then looked out the window and locked his gaze on the top of a hive tower.
The spiritual energy that was forcibly lifted once again filled his tall but sluggish body, and then disappeared in the silver teleportation light.
And the moment he just disappeared, the fully charged artillery fire of the fleet that appeared in the subspace had already filled the entire body of the battleship.
Inside the bow of the Chaos battleship that had just left the subspace, the technical priest watched as several cables as thick as a human waist were connected to the main gun with the help of a crane.
"The No. 1 energy cable is connected! You can fire!"
He reported back in the direction of the bridge through the communication channel.
The efficiency of the bridge is much faster than usual.
Before he put down the communication ball, the confirmed order had already followed.
"Permission to fire!"
"Permission to fire!" He looked at the gunner behind the anti-radiation bunker, who also held the switch in his hand tightly and shook it hard under his command.
"Boom!"
Plasma, which is said to be able to melt through everything, is instantly generated in the several-kilometer-long barrel of the Nova Cannon. The high temperature and high pressure are forced into a torrent in the narrow barrel, and then it is shot in the direction of the muzzle.
Jets with a thickness of tens of meters spanned the space and flew from the bow of the battleship to the hull of the Pale Wing.
After instantly melting through the dozens of meters thick armor of the battleship, it then melted the cabins where no one was inside.
Six house-sized wounds appeared on the warship that had not opened its shields, while more artillery fire and lightning strikes were brewing for subsequent strikes by the fleet.
"Cable Group No. 1 is cooling down! Group No. 2 is ready!"
The mechanical priest nervously commanded the weapon array members of the bow nova cannon:
The first group that had just opened fire was using a crane to pull the red and hot cables off the barrel;
The second fire team behind them could not wait to pull up the functional cables they were responsible for and began to hoist them towards the connection point of the gun barrel.
"Self-check for the first time! No problem!"
"Self-check for the second time! No problem!"
"Self-check for the third time! No problem!"
The Mechanic Priest watched with satisfaction as the members of the weapons team were working in an orderly manner. After everyone confirmed, he reported back to the bridge again:
"Cable No. 2 is in place and the Nova Cannon can fire!"
"Permission to fire!"
Boom!
The low-frequency vibration echoed in the gun room again.
Despite the dangers of high-energy radiation from the Nova Cannon, the instructions of the Mechanic Priest are still ringing.
The background is the pale wings that have melted into a ball of scrap metal under the starry sky in the distance, and the first cable that has not yet cooled down in the nearby gun room and the third cable that is already on standby...