Chapter 64: What's Your Aesthetic Sense?
The threat of "throwing him into that big mouth" was clearly more effective than any first aid at the moment.
The limp nobleman in Sergeant Varo's hands twitched a few times like a fish electrocuted, but he didn't recover immediately, only uttering a few incoherent murmurs, his eyelids tightly closed, as if trying to escape the surreal reality of the day.
"Ignore him for now."
Eileen frowned, releasing her hands from her ears, and irritably brandished her short sword.
The air here was terrible.
Not in terms of air quality, but in the sheer volume of noise.
Although no one was making a sound, countless whispers still echoed in the air.
Some sounded like groans, some like laughter, some like the panting of extreme excitement, and there was the cacophony of countless instruments playing in a chaotic, decadent manner.
This sound was pervasive, even crackling and interfering with the team's communication channels.
"Damn it… this sound is interfering with my senses." Sicarius shook his head. As a Space Marine with extremely acute hearing, this mental pollution was more disgusting than any physical attack.
"So noisy!!"
Eileen had had enough.
"Shut up! You disgusting bunch of perverts!"
She raised a small, delicate hand.
*Buzz—!*
A golden ripple instantly spread outwards from Eileen.
The ripple didn't spread very far, only covering a ten-meter diameter area centered on the squad.
Within that golden circle, the maddening moans, whispers, and seductive sounds vanished in an instant.
The world was quiet.
Even the suffocatingly sweet scent of perfume was replaced by the dry, crisp air.
"Phew…" Sicarius let out a long breath; the bewitching voice that could even affect the mind of Astartes had finally disappeared. "Praise be to you, Madam. My aiming system has stabilized."
"You timed your buff activation perfectly, Eileen. This recent recapture operation has taken a heavy toll on your body and mind. There's likely more fighting later, so it's wise to conserve your buffs."
Old Huang's voice echoed in Eileen's mind, tinged with disdain.
"This place smells awful, like I'm in some kind of stuffy nightclub."
"The person behind that noble young master is definitely up there. Look at that tallest, disgusting chimney-shaped spire. They're definitely trying to turn this place into some kind of Warp portal. We need to hurry, or something even more troublesome will try to get in."
"Got it."
Eileen pointed in that direction.
"Uncle Varo, wake that poor thing up. Make him lead the way; we need the fastest route up."
Sergeant Varo nodded. He showed no gentleness whatsoever, directly reaching out and slapping Lars's cheek twice with controlled force.
*Slap! Slap!*
"Ugh! Cough cough cough!"
Lars exhaled sharply (he still had two teeth), and after a violent cough, he was finally forced to open his eyes.
"I… I'm alive again?" Lars looked around in confusion, his eyes unfocused. "Those big metal cans… and that terrifying little girl…"
"Oh, hello there, lovely mortal."
The cold voice behind Varo sent a shiver down his spine.
Lars turned, his gaze passing over Varo's shoulder to look ahead.
There, a monster had just emerged from the pink wall of flesh.
A Slaanesh Daemonette.
Pale, almost translucent, purplish-white skin; a single bulge on her chest, the other side a flat, muscular expanse.
Her face was half human female, the other half a twisted, beastly face, its mouth filled with sharp teeth and a chameleon-like tongue.
Her arms ended in sharp, dripping venomous pincers.
To ordinary mortals, this handmaiden of the Prince of Pleasure would possess a powerful allure.
People would see their ideal companion, and be irresistibly drawn to her, wanting to be embraced.
Upon seeing Lars, the Daemonette immediately struck an extremely seductive pose, her eyes glazed over, letting out a breath that could stop a normal person's heart. She licked her lips with her forked, barbed tongue.
Then...
Lars blinked.
He blinked again.
He only saw...
A grotesque monster, covered in slime, with crab claws for hands and a face that looked like it had been trampled by a grox, winking at him and drooling.
"Ugh—!!"
Lars immediately bent over, letting out a tremendous retching sound.
"What... what is this thing?!"
Lars wiped his mouth, his face showing extreme disgust and loathing—a genuine, physiological resistance to ugliness.
"This is so ugly! When did the Slaaneshi staff in charge of the garden develop such terrible taste? This thing isn't even as good as a mutated giant rat that comes down from its nest!"
"And it even has the nerve to flirt with me? By the Emperor, my eyes are filthy! Ah, someone save my eyes!"
The Daemonette was stunned.
Having lived in the Warp for so long, it had seen people bewitched by it, and it had seen people terrified.
But it had never seen a mortal from the material universe dare to point at its nose and call it ugly, and vomit so earnestly.
*Hiss—!!!*
The Daemonette let out an angry shriek, its humiliated rage driving it to charge forward, claws swung wildly.
"Die! You aesthetically worthless insect!"
*Bang!*
Before it even reached him, Sergeant Varo didn't even draw his sword, simply raising his foot.
The heavy power boot struck the Daemonette precisely in the chest.
With a cracking sound of bones breaking, the Daemonette was kicked away like a ball, turning into a puddle of purple scum.
"Stop throwing up."
Varo lifted Lars up, leaving him dangling in the air.
"Show me the way. Where's the planetary governor?"
Lars was deathly pale, but he really didn't want to look at those "ugly monsters" around him again.
He shakily stretched out his hand, pointing to the tallest spire, entwined with tentacles.
"Over there… that's my father's private study… only downstairs there's a staircase leading to the upper floor…"
He glanced again at the walls on either side, which had transformed into "pink tongues" (no metaphor), and his stomach churned again.
"Ugh… this house is still writhing… it's disgusting… I can't take it…"
With that, his eyes rolled back, and he promptly passed out.
"Useless."
Eileen curled her lip.
"Direction confirmed. Full speed ahead!"
Sicarius issued the order.
"Maintain assault formation! Don't linger! Ram through!"
"Roger!"
The veteran Terminator once again acted as the battering ram.
He roared, the servo motors on his shoulders hummed, and he charged like a blue chariot into the mutated, mangled outer wall of the Governor's Mansion's first-floor lobby.
*BOOM!!!*
Blood and flesh flew everywhere, bricks shattered.
A large hole was smashed through the thick wall.
Amidst the dust and shards of flesh, the team rushed into the Governor's Mansion's first-floor lobby.
However…
The expected swarms of chaotic creations did not appear.
It was eerily quiet.
A chilling silence.
The hall was covered with a thick carpet, but it was soaked in blood.
The floor was littered with corpses.
Dozens of mutated governor's guards.
They hadn't been killed by swords.
These guards were bleeding from all seven orifices, their eyeballs ruptured. Their armor wasn't damaged, but their bodies were contorted as if shattered by some immense pressure.
Sicarius stopped, his power sword held horizontally in front of his chest, his gaze warily scanning the surroundings.
"Something's wrong."
Cole also stepped forward, the bolter on his halberd raised, his red electronic eye scanning the corpses.
"Internal organ rupture and comminuted fractures. This is… damage caused by high-frequency sonic vibrations."
"Sonic vibrations?" Eileen asked curiously, "Was the music too loud?"
Just then…
A strange "music" sound emanated from the top of the stairs at the far end of the hall.
It wasn't the sound of ordinary instruments.
It was a sickeningly loud, synthesized electronic sound, mixed with the booming, distorted notes of a guitar and piercing screams.
*Tap, tap, tap.*
Several tall figures appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor.
They looked down at the intruders.
Even the usually composed Sicarius gasped when he saw their faces.
The newcomers were also a group of "Astartes."
Or rather, a more punk version.
They wore power armor, but the design and color of the armor were a blatant desecration of Astartes power armor.
Bright pink and purple paintwork intertwined, decorated with human skin hanging from golden chains.
The surface of the armor was covered with strange megaphones and sound amplification devices.
They weren't wearing helmets.
Their exposed faces were as pale as paper, adorned with countless golden metal rings—lips, eyelids, noses, even ears were covered in rings.
Their expressions were grotesquely contorted, an expression that defied easy categorization as either pain or extreme pleasure.
Their eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, and their mouths stretched to their ears.
They weren't carrying bolters or chainswords.
Instead, they held bizarrely shaped, enormous weapons, resembling a combination of heavy artillery and musical instruments.
The weapon's muzzle was a massive, horn-shaped megaphone, connected to countless vibrating tubes leading to the resonance chambers on the back of their armor.
"Just as the Saint Bearer predicted..."
"Even these traitors are here."
Sicarius's voice held a hint of shock.
"Traitors... the Third Legion... the Noise Marines!"
Eileen felt Sicarius beneath her tense up abruptly.
On the stairs.
The leader of the Noise Marines, looking down at the group, wore a sly smile on his face, which was covered in tubes and needles.
He didn't attack immediately.
Instead, as if tuning a musical instrument, he stroked the enormous, ornate weapon in his hand.
"Ahhh..."
His voice, modified by a vocal cord in his throat, became a metallic, resonant vibrato.
"New listeners~"
"Your screams and agonizing wails must be sweet~"
He raised his weapon, the dark, horn-like muzzle aimed at Eileen and Sicarius.
The weapon's tubing instantly glowed a blinding pink light, and visible ripples of air gathered at the muzzle.
"Let us play~"
The monster opened its jaws and let out an excited roar.
"~~A more perfect symphony!!!"