Soshiyang found himself in a strange castle, with dull singing echoing in the hall, and warriors, veterans and newcomers, all of them merged into one with the sounds of flames and war roars.
Countless thick voices sing loudly, forming a soul resonance.
A hero should be a hundred men
Returning in a corpse, you should be a hundred
The war is long, it should be a hundred
You should be a hundred-five when you leap with your sword
I'm sorry for being a hundred
Don't be humiliated, you should be a hundred
Sincerity is brave, you should be a hundred men
Finally, he will be a ghost hero, he should be a hundred men
Resolute soul, should be a hundred men
To inspire forever, you should be a centurion—
Suddenly, thunder broke out, and was immediately covered by the unrestrained and low laughter of the soldiers.
Soshiyang walked into the hall carefully. He wanted to take out his weapon, but found that he was empty-handed.
There were several rows of huge long tables in the hall. On both sides of the long tables, countless warriors in red and black armored were sitting upright. They sat on chairs and tapped the table with their fists. The many echoes made their voices vague, as if they were telling those ancient legends, as if they were retelling the stories of the war, and the old wars that had long been lost in the sea of ​​stars.
Soshiyan always stared at them, staring at the blurry figures, the ghosts of the old legion.
For some reason, he suddenly burst into tears.
Just as he was immersed in the singing, he heard someone calling his name, so he turned around and walked towards the hall door in the distance.
As he walked past the statues without faces, the cold wind was whimpering through the cascading arches.
Why do they have no face? Who stripped them of their face?
Outside the arch, the continuous empty corridors spiraled into the peak, the sky was dim and the earth was no longer visible, and when he stared at them, they also stared back.
He stopped at the threshold and turned around. The fighting brothers were still celebrating, and the slave workers rushed through the feet of the giants in silence, sending more fuel to the celebration.
He knew he should call them brothers, but it was hard to express a word.
Then, he walked out of the nearest arch, and a low temperature like hell came, quietly swallowing the last ray of warmth.
Soshiyang stood against the hard rocks covered by frost, took a deep breath, filling his lungs with bone-chilling cold air, and pure darkness covered the world, just like endless void.
He began to move deeper, as if he knew the path here well.
This fortress is so huge that it will never be filled. After all, after all, this place was originally prepared for a legion.
He walked and walked, and went further and further, falling deeper and deeper.
The human voice stopped quietly at some point, replaced by an almost unrecognizable rhythm that surged under the earth, and ticked in the darkness endlessly.
The buried energy pipeline melted the ice, and they slid onto the rocks in a swirling manner, freezing into frost again.
Obviously, deep in the fortress were large reactors and foundries used to cast weapons. An inaudible roar came into his ears. The distant roar buried his heart deep in the strata, and his heart was locked in a stagnant dream that would never wake up.
This illusory, ignorant and unconscious feeling is very wonderful.
Now, he neither knew where he was going nor why he wanted to continue hiking, and only shadows were with him.
But he knew that he didn't need flames to warm his heart now, because he was used to this cold feeling.
The next moment, he froze in place, with hair standing on the back of his hands, and then quietly clenched his fists tightly.
The corridor is dark and dark, and there is no living thing. Soshiyang narrows his eyes, raises his head slightly, and turns to the left, but the shadow there is also thick and cannot be seen.
There was something there, to be precise, right ahead, and even though he could not see anything, his senses still perceived something.
Maybe it was the breath of some kind of ghost.
Suoshiyang slowly bent down and tiptoed forward. The passage suddenly became dangerous in his eyes.
Soon, he found his armor making a noisy collision sound, which made him feel very uncomfortable. If he had taken off his equipment, he could have moved forward quietly.
At this time, he heard the sound coming from the front again, breathing, soft and low - but he was not sure what it was.
Soshiyang squatted down, moved the center of gravity, and prepared to continue moving forward.
But before that, a low, indifferent voice stopped him.
"My son, you are here, stand up."
Soshiyan obeyed instinctively, which was a constraint from the depths of the genes.
The curtain slowly opened, and a figure walked out in the depths of the castle.
For a moment, Soshiyang felt that what he saw was himself, an almost identical self, wearing a flame-shaped crown, and his eyes were like blue stars.
Soshyang's eyes twitched slightly, but he then began to observe the characteristics he knew very well but had never seen before.
The face and eyebrows in front of him were 70% similar to his own. His pale chin was painted with red flame patterns, a bright red cloak was placed on his right shoulder, he wore thick blue-gray gloves, and a wine glass tightly with his left hand.
Without any hesitation, Soshiyang immediately knelt down on one knee.
"Enough, enough."
The Eleventh Legion Primrose asked with a smile:
"Why are you here?"
But Soshiyan cannot give the answer to this question, maybe this is actually the pull of fate.
Now he is standing here, facing the lost gene primordial alone.
"My son, I can see you, but the soldiers cannot, have we met at some point across time and space."
Xerxes said, getting closer, and in the dark, his eyes flashed with strange light.
"Or it's also a trick in subspace."
Soshiyan didn't dare to judge whether he was joking.
"My Father, aren't you an hallucination in my mind?"
He said hesitantly, guarding against any verbal offense.
"We have lost you."
After a few seconds of stunned roar, Xerxes burst into laughter, and his cloak rustled.
"Is that true, is that true?"
He said, retreating back into the shadows, and the chill seemed to fade away, but in fact it only reduced a little.
At this time, Xerxes noticed the power armor on Soshyan's body, and he looked at it strangely.
"Are you going to be like this in the future?"
Soshiyang wanted to answer, but his head was empty, so he shook his head, which made the Primarch hum in disappointment.
"You know nothing and your memory is empty, so I should have guessed that it will definitely do anything."
The Primarch's voice fell down, and he turned halfway and looked at the darkness. Soshiyang remained silent. The two hearts in his chest were under indescribable pressure, and their heartbeat became slow and low, which was an instinctive reaction to danger - although there was no sword pointing at him at this moment.
"I don't know if you were sent to humiliate me or bring comfort to me, but since fate leads you here, listen carefully and remember with your heart."
Soshyan stood there, not daring to move a step, and looked at his huge father in gorgeous armor in front of him.
"Since I'm gone, I must be careful of the person who holds the seal."
Soshiyang was stunned for a moment, and for some reason his brain seemed to no longer belong to him.
"Not he—"
The Primrose turned around and his sapphire-like eyes lit up.
"remember."
Chapter completed!