On the eve of the arrival of the primarch, deep inside the main body of the huge fortress complex on Titan II.
Two sons of Calvin are in the preparation hall underground of the fortress, enjoying precious private time after a long day of training.
One of the young men was wearing a linen robe. He was holding his shoulder armor and looking at it repeatedly under the lamp. After he was satisfied that there were no scratches, he carefully applied a layer of holy oil on it and then wiped it gently.
.
Another young man has a slightly different attitude towards equipment. He has long given his armor to a servitor to take care of.
He himself is using a dagger to chop the runes on the granite slabs quarried from the ground, using a knife to chop and axe-like runes (just like the miserable author sitting in front of the computer typing), displaying his modest literary talent. p>
"Huh!" Blowing the debris off the slate, Russell looked at his work with satisfaction, but then hesitated about his choice of words.
"Hey! Brother, help me take a look."
He looked at little Calvin behind him who was still handling the armor and said.
He and the guy next to him are both the first batch of recruits on the mother planet Titan. However, because of the different sources of recruitment, little Calvin, who was born in Terra, and Russell, who came off the black ship in the Extreme Star Territory, have completely different fates.
and a personality shaped by these circumstances.
Needless to say, little Calvin’s fate:
Brave, loyal, with excellent educational background, well-informed and with an overall view.
He was born into a Terran noble, and had been involved in the training of Astartes soldiers since he was a child. If it weren't for the arrogance of his father and brother in the family, his evaluation would have been suffixed with some suffixes such as enthusiasm, cheerfulness, and a sense of responsibility. p>
But his brother ruined it all with his own hands.
Our ancestors have fought for the empire for thousands of years, and their countless bloodshed and sacrifices are no longer recognized by the empire.
The surviving members of the family were all exiled to distant war fronts due to their crimes.
The glory of Sutherland has faded in this world, and only an orphan is fighting for it.
The future is uncertain and there is no way back. The sudden bad news makes young Sutherland grow up overnight.
The changes in the surrounding environment made him restrain his innocence and enthusiasm, and all he had to do was impose stricter requirements on himself in training.
His powerful talent and hidden inferiority have shaped his strong will and matching abilities. Among the recruits who came from Terra, he is the natural leader.
Russell is just the opposite:
Born in Zhongji Academy, both of his parents died when he was young, and his only brother died on the border of Ultramar before he came of age.
But because of the attention of his college, he had an unexpectedly warm childhood.
It was an extremely remote star region, and the Zhongsi Academy to which it belonged was not taken seriously by the empire.
The instructor is his brother's comrade-in-arms and treats him like a relative;
The classmate has the same background as him, and there is no competitive interest in the background of not being taken seriously by the district governor. There is also a tenderness between each other that is unimaginable to the outside world.
In this environment, Russell's personality growth was much healthier than that of little Calvin, and his mature and generous style of dealing with things made him very popular among students from outside Terra.
The two have very different styles, and both have a strong influence on the recruits. In several confrontations on behalf of their respective camps, they also admire each other's character very much.
They are a natural partner, because both of them are smart enough to understand that forming cliques is the stupidest behavior, and they have the obligation to bridge the relationship between the two groups.
They are also the closest competitors to each other, because only in this way can they prove that their path is the right one.
"Okay..." Little Calvin turned his head, and after looking at it carefully, he gave his evaluation with the utmost care.
"Oh? Then let me take a look..."
Russell picked up the dagger and once again devoted himself to carving the stone slab.
He has enough confidence in Little Calvin's aesthetics, but the other party's wording is not so direct, and he often needs to "translate" it again.
Usually, the "yes" in the former's mouth means "to be optimized"...
This set of tablets is Russell's carefully prepared personal biography. He hoped that after his death in battle, these things could faithfully record his life and accompany him in the long years he spent in the underground City of the Dead.
——
One day later, Calvin's fleet jumped out from Manzeville Point. After sending out the psychic key of a specific wavelength, the Angel of Punishment led the fleet through the heavy fog of war outside Titan II, and appeared above the starport on time.
At the berth.
Thousands of Gray Knights were like sculptures made of steel, holding halberds and marching in formation until they reached the bottom of the starport and then stopped.
The icy cold wind blew across the pale and desolate plains, howling and trying to take away everything that passed by, but the gray knights stood motionless on both sides of the avenue, with only the cloaks behind them rustling in the strong wind.
"How long will it take?" Ms. Phaethon, the representative of the Demonic Tribunal and the high-ranking judge, opened the magnetic boots under her feet and whispered to the elder beside her against the howling cold wind.
At this time, she was wearing heavy feedback power armor and standing behind Urdas in front of the queue.
The former is nearly two meters tall with the support of his armor, which is tall enough for a mortal.
But against the backdrop of the 2.5-meter-long gray knights in the array behind him, Phaethon, who comes from a family of knights and has an extremely talented body shape, actually looks a bit "petite".
As for the Third Order in front of him - the Great Master of the Shaper Order, Urdas, the 2.7-meter-high body is like a walking iron tower. Just standing there, he has an awe-inspiring and inviolable look.
Momentum.
"Almost." Urdas was not wearing a helmet, and his big chin covered with silver stubble showed his strong personality in daily life. The only remaining gray-blue eye was sharp and gloomy, and was covered with scars.
The facial muscles are reflected.
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a faint tremor in the air coming from the end of the sky.
When this tremor quickly started from scratch, from small to large, it turned into an overwhelming roar. Following Urdas's line of sight, Judge Phaethon finally saw the thunder that was rapidly expanding in his line of sight and falling from the sky.
Eagle fleet.
"What is that?"
"...Gestalt?"
"Your Majesty! How is this possible?"
"No, it's Gestalt! But how can it be so pure?"
Feeling the psychic suppression hanging down like a dark cloud at the end of the sky, the sons of Calvin present discussed with each other in the psychic channel.
This kind of gathering of group will is no stranger to them, and they have even had similar exercises through the data sent back from the front.
But drills are drills. Without the central control of the original body, it is impossible for them to come into contact with the core power of the legion's will, and it is impossible to touch such a unified spiritual harmonious state.
And when this masterpiece that belonged to the original body appeared in front of them.
The extremely pure spirit in the collection of wills, and the terrifying spiritual suppression that followed, made them truly understand the incomparable strength and weakness and the indistinguishable essential difference between the two.<
/p>
"Do you feel it?" Little Calvin asked his partner beside him slightly absent-mindedly.
"Yes, I feel it." Russell murmured.
The two sons of Calvin recovered from the shock and confirmed each other's feelings in excitement.
Because they are also Gray Knights, they are the only ones who can clearly perceive the opponent's unified pace at this time;
Also because they are also Gray Knights, they know better how difficult it is to achieve such a unified harmony between different soul fluctuations. It is an almost impossible miracle.
As the sons of Calvin, only they are qualified to practice this tactic and know the terrifying changes brought about by this change;
They are also the sons of Calvin. In front of the 281 familiar and unfamiliar spirits, what they see is not a single soul.
That is a colossus composed of 281 souls! It is an existence called the will of the Legion, which has evolved like a god in the real universe!
In front of this god who is like a descendant of the world, although they have an absolute numerical advantage, they are still like tiny ants.
The existence of the other party is so clear because of the same bloodline. He doesn't even have to do anything. His mere presence is enough to make their hair stand on end.
(Two Gray Knights died in the Space Hulk battle, so only 281 Krieg-based Gray Knights were able to accompany Calvin to Titan II.)
A huge sense of humiliation rose from little Calvin's chest. Even though he knew that this was not the original intention of those brothers, he still did not want to let his ugly appearance be exposed in front of them!
"Maintain discipline! We can feel them. Then they must also be able to "see" us!"
Calvin Sutherland ordered in a low voice, and Russell behind him understood his thoughts instantly.
"Yes!"
He also didn't want to show weakness in front of brothers he had never met, let alone their genetic father.
Two particularly tall gray knights stood at the front of the array, and the fluctuations of psychic energy between the positions on the left and right were no longer obscure.
"Concentrate your will!"
In the psychic communication, the two are like trumpeters standing under the storm, the first among all brothers to blow the horn of struggle.
"I am the Holy Hammer!" Many arbiters then shouted.
The call of the two men was quickly responded to by other arbiters, and a temporary psychic network was quickly formed in just a few breaths with these officers as nodes.
Phew! Drink!
For thousands of Gray Knights, they successfully linked their spirits to each other, something that had never been done in previous training;
Their compatriots in the sky brought them tremendous pressure. Under this terrifying oppression, the sons of Calvin broke through the shackles of the past and reached an unprecedented spiritual level.
Phew! Drink!
The breathing of thousands of people proceeds at a unified frequency. Even if the individual voice is small, its neat chest resonance attracts the attention of the inquisitor in front.
"Quiet, the Silver Blade is about to arrive."
The Grand Master spoke with a calm expression, drawing the attention of Ms. Phaethon, the Inquisitor.
The latter was no longer distracted after being reminded by Urdas, and naturally did not see the smile hidden in the corner of the great mentor's eyes.
The sparks between the two troops have been ignited before they have even met. This kind of fighting spirit is something that the veteran appreciates very much. He will never allow the curiosity of the Inquisitor to disturb this competition that belongs only to the Gray Knights.
The sons of Calvin on the ground looked serious. They were excited about the new realm and had a deeper understanding of the spiritual power of order;
It also allowed them to have more awe of the will of the legions above them when they experienced this power.
When the Thunder Eagle descended on their heads with that huge will, a loose but energetic collection of psychic energy had taken shape.