God Emperor's Angel of Death

Chapter 470

To them, you are just a war machine. They put you into battle, and then lock you in a cage. They won't wake you up again until they need you to spill more blood.

But you were a powerful hero, remember?

You do remember, don't you, kandali Kara Khalil, commander of the seventh company of star claws?

Some fragments of his past memories came up and twisted his thinking into a ball of thread

Before the man made him like this, when he still had his own body, before he heard these voices

Their voices, thousands of voices, roll in their heads.

They taunted him, took away his reason and aggravated his pain

He didn't want to hear them, and he never wanted to hear them, just as he never wanted to kill ceaselessly, just to stop them for even a moment.

But those voices wouldn't stop. They were chattering every moment he was awake.

And when he rested - although he could not dream, the face of the dead would still haunt his brain.

He kept rejecting them, and the voices kept getting louder.

The memory became more confused.

His brother, his own brother, argued with him and tried to persuade him.

The man told him that if he wanted to ensure their independence and that they were not bound by ordinary people and driven like dogs, he must resist.

But he refused again, and the voices became louder.

"You should listen to him more, you poor bastard."

"He is always strong and always above you. If you had a chance to listen to him, you wouldn't fall into such a field."

A planet has been burned out, and the man he once worshipped has already embarked on the road of no return, and he will never be in collusion with others.

When he disobeyed the man's will, he was imprisoned.

The only reason why the man didn't kill him was their old kinship.

While the claw of the stars degenerated into a red pirate, he slowly rotted and went crazy in a cell

Sometimes, at night, the man would come to his cell to persuade him to reconsider.

Those voices would cheer for him, but he refused.

Finally, the man was impatient.

What's his name?

The only trace of reason left in the brain is like a drowning man clutching the only straw.

He remembered.

The man's name is Ruft Huron.

People who transformed, trained, served and passed through the most difficult years of the regiment with him.

His brother, his best friend——

Huron told him that his will would soon cease to belong to him and that he would not be able to control his actions.

Even so, his brother, his own brother, could not shake him, no matter how hard Huron made, no matter how hard those voices made.

Many years have passed. In those years, his skin has never experienced the sun again, and his feet have never stepped on it again.

He exists in the dark nothingness, and only those voices are with him.

His brother would still come to prison to see him again and again, but the interval between visits was getting longer and longer.

And every time I see him, he is no longer like the soldier who used to be called brother.

Those voices became everywhere and deafening, but what they said was no longer meaningful to him, just an elegy to block his words of deception.

He can't feel time, space or self.

Sometimes, those voices would whisper to him in a convincing tone about the terrorist acts committed by his brothers and his own brother.

When he sleeps, they will show pictures: rivers of blood flow in the streets, children watch their parents being slaughtered in fear, and know that they are the next target of the butcher's knife.

In the burning world, millions of souls cry in fear.

And the new prison built for him.

Suddenly, his thoughts fell into deeper confusion.

Kandali Kara Khalil, are these things they show you or have you seen them with your own eyes?

Then they stood in front of him.

When he was imprisoned, his brothers had become beyond recognition. Madness had eroded his memory and even couldn't remember their names.

The once smooth surface of Star Warrior power armor is now covered with spikes and ridges, and sharp corners stand on the helmet. There are strange symbols on the skin of those who don't wear helmets. When you look at them that day, those voices become more excited than ever.

When he looked out of the prison for the last time, he found that the warship that imprisoned him had also been eroded and changed.

They laughed at him, and his brothers laughed at him like those who had fought with him for countless years.

Then he fought with them, not because of their ridicule, but because he abandoned him for years and locked me aside.

It was not madness that drove him to jump on them, nor did he want to be free, but when they carried him through the corridor full of organs, the instinct of survival kept him dying.

Those voices had told him what was waiting for him.

It's much better to stay in that cold and dark cell forever than his brother, his own brother, who has prepared a destination for him.

He hoped that he would not remember what had happened after that, because madness would confuse all the memories of atrocities.

But those voices will constantly remind him and let him experience every minute and second of that horror again.

"We don't have to do that. It was the greatest moment of your life. It was your rebirth. You should be proud of it."

The hall was filled with all kinds of instruments and devices. The chamberlains in black robes murmured prayers in dark language and poured burning stinky incense on them.

His brothers pressed him on an obsidian base and bound him with thick iron chains that burned the skin and flesh.

He fought with them until the last moment, and even though the shackles were locked and all hope had disappeared, he was still biting them.

His brother, his own brother, came to him and was treating him like an animal to be sacrificed.

"Brother, I have found a way to restore our prosperity and glory, but I need your help. Will you help me? Will you help us?"

The man's arm swept dramatically through the former star claw members in the hall.

His years of imprisonment have greatly reduced his speech ability, but he doesn't actually need to answer each other with words.

He mobilized every fiber of his body, recalled his long forgotten memory, then activated the glands in his mouth and vomited a mass of acid on the right face.

His brother, his own brother, did not escape - to this day, the other party still carries that scar.