Chapter 406

Makushen trembled when he died in her hands.

Even through the blurred vision, he noticed the damage to her helmet and chest armor - the armor cracked and let some smelly alien blood flow out.

He only managed to rub her several times with more than 40 bullets from his heavy explosive gun. Although he didn't hit directly, the explosion burned her - even if he didn't maim her as he hoped.

"Sleep."

She stroked him gently in her voice, gentle but somehow mocking.

Makushen grabbed the spear that pierced his chest, pulled it up, moved closer to her for half a meter, and felt the harsh friction sound of the metal rod rubbing his damaged chest and charred meat.

"Sleep."

She opened her mouth again and brought laughter. It was a low and melodious laughter that would only make makushen's teeth bite harder together.

He grabbed again and pulled again, but he hardly moved - strength and blood were fleeing him.

She swung the spear back, and the pain when she withdrew was far worse than the crack when she stabbed it in.

Nothing supported him. Makushen's legs fell rigidly to the ground, and the impact of armor echoed in the air.

For a moment, he lay like a fetus, trying to breathe in the unreachable air.

His eyesight has grayed at the edge.

She passed him, and the swish of her boots woke him up.

In his sight, she was just a vague figure, but the training allowed him to see the specific information he needed.

With a roar of effort and pain, makushin moved at the fastest speed in his life, and faster than ever before.

He waved his dagger and planned to pierce the right leg of Lord Phoenix.

But his strength has lost too much, making the blow slow and weak.

"Poor pest."

She laughed, turned her head and pierced his chest with a spear for the second time.

Makushen grinned at her, and his last breath almost disappeared. The soldiers of the eighth Legion stared into the eyes of the Phoenix Lord and said the last word.

"Ha ha, you will never catch the Prophet..."

Then the fire of his life burned out.

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Lukofus landed in a dusty mist. One of his arms was gone and his armor was damaged in many places.

But he was still alive, and Lord Phoenix couldn't kill him.

Warrell ignored the Raptor. He stood in the rain, breathing the filtered air in the sealed armor.

"I saw them."

The Raptor opened his mouth.

"They climbed West out of the surface on the battlements."

Valle immediately started running, lukofus was laughing, and the Raptor's engine returned to power.

After a few seconds, lukofus attacked the rubble from behind, grabbed his shoulder guard and lifted him from the ground.

Valle doesn't like flying, but he doesn't like any Raptor - but it's undoubtedly the fastest way.

"Huh?"

When Talos first saw Valle, it was not the pharmacist who was roughly thrown from above to the ground.

The pharmacist finally landed on his feet, while lukofus landed more calmly, his claws grasping the curved and sloping battlements and walls.

As Valere stood up, Talos approached the pharmacist.

"I want an answer, Valere. I want it now."

"My explanation may take some time."

"Are Septimus and otavia still here? In this world?"

"They should be gone. It takes time to explain."

"Brother, we lack a lot of things, such as ammunition and hope. Where is the Diablo?"

"It may never come back."

Valle answered with regret, but Talos showed no disappointment.

"Everyone move to the bunker. Don't let her find it. Move now, valer. Come with me. Start explaining."

Cylon began to run wildly in the rain, his boots creaking on the rocky ground.

It is not difficult to find shelter in this huge fortress. Although it is a prison, it is more like an abandoned city composed of rubble and sloping walls.

After running for a few minutes, he finally stopped and came to the slope of ruins, which is the wall of the barracks, next to the battlements.

At midnight, the Lord began to climb up. His guard knocked and grabbed on the stone. The stone was too smooth to grasp in the rain.

"Have you noticed that when we lose a war, it always rains? The gods have a strange sense of humor."

The others didn't answer a word to the cold joke of Cylon.

Then Valle spoke, but only to taros.

"The world is a grave."

Talos responded softly.

"For the Legion, for the hundreds of spiritual families who died there tonight."

The prophet then connected to the public channel.

"All the claws, all the souls of the eighth legion, this is Talos. If you are still alive, answer me."

There was only a silent answer, and the cold through the communicator made Talos feel as if he were shouting at the cemetery.

The idea that Marc Lyon might be dead, too, made him shudder.

For a moment, Talos just looked at his tactical retina.

Charles, makushin, USAS... Everything gradually faded, everything fell silent, everything disappeared.

"Valere, this is not me. I doubt whether there will be a prophet to unite the eighth legion, but if there is, it will not be me. I can't even unite the first fierce claw."

"Hey."

Celion interrupted him immediately.

"Even at the best of times, we are a group of difficult people to get along with."

"I'm serious, Valere, you didn't expect me, not me... Look at me, brother, tell me, do you believe I can unite thousands of murderers, traitors, thieves and assassins? I'm not like what they think. I don't want to be one of them anymore. They deserve it! This has always been the weakness of the Legion, so we deserve it."

"Your loyalty to your brother is commendable, but you are too pessimistic."

Valle tried to appease the prophet.

"No."

Talos shook his head and took a step back.

"I'm telling the truth. Speaking of this' prophet ', in the era after the rebellion, we still have many such legends, which we call furnace omens. Although some company commanders have never confirmed these, whether it's destiny or not, I'm not the prophet."

Valere nodded, and Talos saw his mind in his brother's pale eyes.

"Pharmacist, you've considered another option, I'm sure."

"This concept has been with me since I gave you a physiological test."

Valle took off his helmet.

"If a child has your genetic seeds implanted in his body, he will have all the qualities to be a powerful prophet."

"You're guessing."

"Yes, but it's a good guess."

Celion cursed them on the ramp.

"If we really want to go, can we go now?"

Lukofus also climbed the ramp, but Talos and Valle did not move.

"Do you know what the protoplast said to me a few hours before his death? He said that in the years after his death, many people will claim to lead the Legion, many people will claim that they are the designated successors of the protoplast, but he doesn't care... I hate the Legion, Warrell. Do you really believe I care what will happen to you after my death?"

The pharmacist stood motionless and Talos took a breath.

"Sometimes, I can almost feel the feeling of the mother. Warrell, the war will last forever. At the same time, we have to endure betrayal... We hide, we run away, we raid and ambush, we drink the enemy's blood, and we also suffer endless killing each other. My mother died in front of me, but I don't know her face! In the last century alone, I killed her I lost my own nineteen brothers, almost all for the ownership of this sword or for wounded self-esteem! I don't want to unite the Legion, I hate the Legion! Not because of what it is, but because of what it makes me! "

On the night of his death, Talos could finally express his anger buried in his heart for 10000 years without any scruples.

He, Talos valkoran, has always hated the midnight Lord, the eighth Legion and himself.

Valle was still silent. He didn't seem to be shocked, but he didn't have the desire to speak at all.

"Now, there's only one thing I want."

Talos said, tearing up the sign of the eighth Legion and the winged skeleton with his bare hands.

This move shocked both Cylon and lukofus, because in the past, such a move meant rebellion and that the soldier would abandon his identity and his belonging.

"I just want the alien head. I want to insert it into her spear, in the center of the ruins, in the name of Talos."

Then he turned and walked towards the ramp.

"I must get it, Valle. You'd better hide it. Whether I die or live tonight, you are welcome to come for my genetic seed at dawn."

Valle stood in the rain, trying to resist the urge to follow.

"Talos -"

Suddenly, the pharmacist's voice was blocked.

The prophet looked back and found that Valle's body suddenly began to bleed, and a black spear pointed out from his chest.

The next second, the pharmacist began to roar. This was the first time Talos heard such a loud voice from Valle's mouth.

Then he covered his bloody mouth with his hand, as if he could stop the blood of life gushing from his mouth.

But the spear suddenly pulled out and threw him back.

"Uh..."

Valle shook half dead, and the bionic leg sent out a crackling spark of protest - its fragmented system trying to restore balance.

When Valle fell,

The only three remaining midnight Lords have begun to run at full speed.