Talos took a deep breath. His lungs and ribs were brutally smashed, but he still kept grunting.
The gray drifted in from the edge of his sight, but he didn't even glance at it.
His fingers were completely numb, and one hand rested on the broken breastplate, resting on the Broken Eagle that was polished by the rain, while his other hand leaned on the bolter that fell on the ground.
Then the prophet locked the weapon on his thigh with numb hands, and slowly breathed the cold air into his lungs that no longer wanted to breathe. His bleeding gums stained his teeth pink.
"I have to go after her."
After a moment of silence, another indifferent voice responded to him.
"Don't be stupid."
"ha."
Talos let the rain of blood wet his upturned face. Strangely, that moment of kindness actually made Soshyan believe that they could have such a conversation in the tragic reality.
Soshyan, wearing a Terminator, looked down at Talos.
Talos felt that the complete eagle emblem on the opponent's chest was too dazzling.
The prophet struggled to stand up, holding a broken sword in his hand and began to move, trying to cross the battlements made of black stone.
"She killed my brother and I'm going after her."
Talos first came to where Sirion lay.
The Phoenix Lord's dart left almost nothing on Sirion's chest, and the black flames devoured most of his bones and the organs below.
The Prophet carefully removed Sirion's helmet, out of respect not only for the dead man, but also for his own trauma.
Talos blinked as Sirion's hand grasped his wrist.
His brother's black eyes were spinning in their sockets, unable to see anything, and tears fell on his face like lightning.
"Usas——"
Selion said vaguely, a lung vibrating in his exposed chest, and a heart still beating weakly.
"I am Talos, Ursus is dead."
"Usas."
Selion was still mumbling the names of people who had died long ago.
"I hate you, I will always hate you...but I'm sorry, bro, and I didn't want that either."
"brother."
Talos moved his hand in front of Cerion, but there was no reaction. The other party was completely blind.
"Taros?"
Finally, as if he realized who the person next to him was, Selion grabbed his hand and held his arm tightly.
"I'm here, Cy."
"Okay...that's great. I don't want to die alone."
Sirion leaned on Talos's shoulder, curled up into a ball, and then relaxed.
"Don't take away my gene seed."
He reached out a hand to touch his eyes.
"I...I think I'm blind, this is the most terrifying darkness."
Cerion then wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth.
"You won't recycle my gene seeds, will you?"
"Won't."
"Then don't let Valier take over. Don't let him touch me."
"I will not."
"Well...that's great. Those words you said about this war, I like them, but don't pass on my genes. I...have had enough of the war..."
"I heard it."
Selion swallowed three times before he could speak again.
"I know you hate us, because we are all damned. You hate the Legion, you hate us, just like the Primarch. I know... I've always known it."
Regardless, Talos said nothing about it.
"I will avenge you."
"That's good...very good."
Sirion grinned, bleeding, and his body began to twitch.
Talos held him tightly, motionless, his arms trembling, unable to say a word.
In the end, it was Selion who filled the silence as usual.
"I'm going to die, and everyone else in First Claw is dead, so..."
He breathed slowly and said the mantra he would always say every time he met Talos.
"...Brother...are you...ok?"
Talos held him without saying a word, waiting for the comrade in his arms to take his last breath before gently closing Selion's eyes.
Then he stood up and limped towards the direction where the Phoenix Lord disappeared.
Suddenly, a tall silver-gray figure stopped him.
"Stop, you have to follow us."
"Go away."
The prophet growled menacingly.
"Otherwise I will kill you immediately."
"Then you can try."
Talos raised his head and stared at the opponent's dark eyepiece.
"Another hero, do you want my head? Then come and get it yourself."
After a second of silence, the two of them took action at the same time.
After a bang, Talos flew backwards and slid on the ground for five or six meters before stopping. There was a thirty centimeter-deep depression on his chest, with faint traces of fists visible on it.
Soshyan lowered his head and glanced at the scratches on the eagle emblem on his chest, which were left by the opponent's broken sword.
"Ahem...if you want to kill me, you have to work harder."
After coughing up a lot of blood, Talos struggled to get up again.
Soshyan took a step further.
"Taros Valcolan, don't force me to kill you. I won't bear any psychological burden on you, traitor."
"Hahaha... If you want to kill me, then come. I am destined to die here. If it's not her, it's you!"
Talos's laughter gradually fell silent. He turned around stiffly like a zombie and looked at Sevita, who was motionless with the soul spear in his hand.
As long as he used his brain for a moment, he could immediately guess that the former first company commander came down with these imperial lackeys.
What this means is self-evident.
"I don't understand, First Company Commander, you were once so proud, and the slogan you shouted to kill the false emperor was so inspiring, why..."
As he said this, the prophet could no longer hold himself up and fell to his knees.
But even so, he still squeezed out the last bit of strength and roared at the top of his lungs.
"Why! Why abandon us! Why betray us! Have you forgotten the blood shed by the Primarch!?"
Suddenly, Talos' eyesight blurred, and when his vision cleared, Sevatar was already standing in front of him.
The Prince of Crows looked down at him with awe-inspiring aura. Behind the scarlet eyepiece was a line of sight that could penetrate the soul.
"You know nothing."
"you--"
Before he finished speaking, Talos felt his head sink and he fainted.
"The rest is up to you."
Sevatar threw the soul spear that had just hit Talos' head to Soshyan, then lifted Talos who was lying on the ground with one hand, threw it onto his shoulder, turned around and walked towards the parked Thunder Eagle, Maka
Leon limped behind him.
Soshiyang took the soul spear, glanced around, and realized that this mess was really hard to clean up.
Suddenly, he noticed the pharmacist Valier sitting on the edge of the wall. He seemed to be seriously injured, but he was not dead.
"Don't... abandon me."
Sensing Soshyan's gaze, Valier immediately crawled over panting.
"I will not die, and I cannot die. You need a prophet, and a prophet needs me."
He said humbly to Soshyan:
"I've stopped the flow of blood, eliminated the risk of sepsis and other infections, used artificial skin and armor sealants, and—"
"Shut up, traitor."
Soshyan slowly raised his arms. He was tired of harboring these traitors. The Prophet was his last line, and he wouldn't want one more traitor.