Chapter 17
Chapter 17: The Soaring Hawk
After a full day of rest and mental preparation, Fu Qinghai, draped in a simple linen robe, followed Ogotai's wheelchair down the dim, eerie corridor deep within the ship.
Inside Magos Kurnos' laboratory, Fu Qinghai was strapped into a semi-open incubation pod, naked and hairless. Even the finest hairs in his crevices had been meticulously shaved off by Kurnos' servitor assistants. The eight mechanical arms wielding razors had moved with astonishing precision.
Ogotai and Taral had left, leaving only Kurnos and his servitors in the room.
Kurnos silently adjusted the sharp drill bit at the end of a metal tube. Fu Qinghai glanced sideways and saw that these tubes, of varying thicknesses and sizes, would soon pierce his skin and muscles, embedding themselves into his body.
At this moment, Fu Qinghai's thoughts began to wander.
Becoming a Space Marine.
It was something he had never considered before. But when Ogotai presented him with the opportunity, he hadn't hesitated.
It was said that Space Marines had no worldly desires, living ascetic lives like puritans. It was said that Space Marines couldn't reproduce, relying solely on gene-seeds to continue their legacy.
But Fu Qinghai didn't care about any of that.
Becoming a Space Marine meant becoming stronger!
That was enough. In the Warhammer 40K universe, what could be a more stable and direct way to gain power than becoming a Space Marine? In this unforgiving universe, how could one survive without becoming stronger?
"It's beginning," Kurnos' raspy voice broke the silence.
Fu Qinghai steadied his mind, clearing away all distractions, and gradually let his thoughts drift.
A sharp pain shot through his back as a cold, tubular object pierced his chest.
Then, darkness enveloped him, and he lost consciousness.
***
Outside the steel gate, in the dimly lit corridor, Ogotai and Taral walked side by side. After a while, Ogotai suddenly murmured in a low voice.
"The hawk soars high, a thousand miles in one leap. May this little hawk survive this trial and soar freely across the grasslands." His poetic side had emerged.
"...Locke isn't even from Chogoris," Taral replied, somewhat exasperated by his companion's sudden poetic outburst.
In their culture, hawks were revered. For example, one of the titles of Jaghatai Khan, the Primarch of the White Scars, was "Warhawk."
"Locke may not be from Chogoris, but he is indeed a little hawk. He has the ambition of one."
The survival rate of the Space Marine transformation process was notoriously low. Not everyone could endure the numerous complex surgeries. Even with carefully selected candidates, the Imperium still had to rely on sheer numbers to produce successful Space Marines.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment idea for Ogotai and Taral, and they had already prepared themselves for the possibility of Fu Qinghai's death.
They were ready to receive the news of his failure.
*****
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