On the horizon stood the greatest man there had ever been, the gilded giant that was Rogal Dorn. He had led them across this bleak wasteland, fighting through the host of cultists and degenerates thrown into their guns by the traitors of the Iron Warriors. Now the Scouring was almost done with this world, the Iron Warriors were nearly driven out and the poor fools who still believed in Horus and his heresy would be swept from another planet.

羅格 多恩站在地平線處，這位身披金色盔甲的巨人是（軍團(tuán)中）有史以來(lái)最偉大的戰(zhàn)士。他率領(lǐng)著軍團(tuán)戰(zhàn)士們穿過(guò)這片荒蕪的廢土，與被鋼鐵勇士們趕到他們槍口面前的邪教徒和墮落者們展開(kāi)激戰(zhàn)?，F(xiàn)在這個(gè)世界基本得到了肅清，此地鋼鐵勇士們幾乎全被驅(qū)逐出去，仍對(duì)荷魯斯與他的叛亂深信不疑的可憐蠢貨們會(huì)在另一個(gè)星球上被清理干凈。

Brother Scoiven trudged through the knee-deep ash. He had seen his target fall, shot through with a round from Scoiven’s Stalker-pattern boltgun. The battle was swift and ever-moving, the fighting reduced to isolated bursts of gunfire, and clear targets were rare. Scoiven had taken the shot faster than thought, and it had hit.

斯考文修士在及膝深的灰燼中艱難前行著。他已經(jīng)看到了自己的目標(biāo)倒下，而擊中后者的正是斯考文的潛行者爆矢槍中的子彈。這是一場(chǎng)迅速且處于不斷運(yùn)動(dòng)中的戰(zhàn)斗，雙方間的搏斗淪為了零星的相互射擊，清晰的目標(biāo)極為罕見(jiàn)。斯考文未經(jīng)思索便果斷開(kāi)槍，他擊中了目標(biāo)。

The Iron Warrior’s gunmetal armour had not stopped the Stalker round punching through his throat. The ash was churned purple-black by the blood that had left him already.

鋼鐵勇士的鐵灰色動(dòng)力甲未能阻止?jié)撔姓弑笍棿┩感请H戰(zhàn)士的喉嚨，他的傷口涌出了鮮血，將灰燼染成了紫黑色。

‘You will pay,’ gasped the Iron Warrior, his voice metallic and strained through the faceplate of his helmet. ‘Whatever you do, wherever you go, you will pay.’

“你會(huì)為此付出代價(jià)”，鋼鐵勇士喘息著，他的聲音從頭盔面甲的后側(cè)勉強(qiáng)傳出，帶著種金屬般冷酷淡然的音調(diào)，“無(wú)論你做了什么，前往何方，你都會(huì)為此付出代價(jià)?！?/p>

Scoiven drew his combat knife as he wrenched the helmet from the traitor’s head. ‘My debt is cleared,’ he said. ‘Your payment has already been taken.’

斯考文猛地把頭盔從叛徒的腦袋上拽下，同時(shí)順手拔出了自己的格斗刀。“我的賬已經(jīng)結(jié)清了”，他說(shuō)到，“拿著你的報(bào)酬吧?！?/p>

Scoiven plunged the blade under the Iron Warrior’s jaw and felt the heat of his enemy’s lifeblood as it flowed.

斯考文將利刃從鋼鐵勇士的下頜處向上捅入，第四軍團(tuán)戰(zhàn)士的鮮血噴出，順著刀流淌下來(lái)，斯考文感受到了敵人生命之血的熱量。

The sky above was bottle-green, the swirls of nebulae visible through the dense clouds. This world was poisoned. Its atmosphere, its water and the aliens who lived there were poisoned. The blade that had caught Scoiven in the gut as he killed the last of them had forced a venom into his veins that even a Space Marine’s constitution could not hold off.

他們的頭頂上方是一片深綠色的天空，透過(guò)濃密的云層，可以看到星云的漩渦。這是個(gè)有毒的世界，它的大氣里、水體中和棲身于此的異形物種體內(nèi)都含有毒素。在斯考文殺死最后一個(gè)異星人的同時(shí)，對(duì)方也將利刃刺入了他的內(nèi)臟，毒液注入了他的血管中，而且那是一種連星際戰(zhàn)士的體質(zhì)也無(wú)法抵抗的劇毒。

‘In the primarch’s time,’ growled Scoiven, ‘the xenos fell to us like wheat before the scythe. No battle-brother would ever have suffered such a damned insignificant death.’

“在原體的時(shí)代，”斯考文低吼著，“異形們會(huì)像被鐮刀收割的麥子那樣倒在我們面前。沒(méi)有哪位戰(zhàn)斗修士要經(jīng)受這種天殺的輕賤死法！”

‘Dorn is long gone, brother,’ said the Apothecary as he hooked another cylinder of humours up to the needle in Scoiven’s vein. It was true. The primarch had been lost on the Sword of Sacrilege, that cursed ship, and only his bones remained in the hands of the Chapter.

“多恩很久之前就走了，兄弟，”藥劑師一邊說(shuō)著，一邊在輸液架上換好了另一個(gè)桶狀藥瓶，瓶中的藥物通過(guò)針頭輸入到斯考文的血管內(nèi)。此言非虛，原體已經(jīng)失蹤在了那艘被詛咒的飛船——褻瀆之劍號(hào)上，只有他的骨頭仍然保留在帝國(guó)之拳戰(zhàn)團(tuán)中。

Scoiven held another bone, that of the Iron Warrior he had killed on the wasteland world while Dorn still lived, lifetimes of men ago. It felt warm in his hand and strangely heavy – a shoulder blade cut from the enemy’s body after the battle, worn on a leather strip around Scoiven’s neck through the centuries that followed. It was a reminder of who he was and who the enemy were. It was in his hand now and he felt his grip weakening.

斯考文保留著另一塊骨頭，這塊骨骸來(lái)自他在廢土世界上殺死了那名鋼鐵勇士，彼時(shí)多恩還活著，那是很久之前的事情了。握在手中時(shí)，斯考文覺(jué)得這塊骨頭溫暖而且怪異地沉重——戰(zhàn)斗結(jié)束后，斯考文從敵人的尸體中剔出了一塊肩胛骨，在之后的幾個(gè)世紀(jì)中，斯考文都用皮繩栓好這塊骨頭，掛在自己的脖子上。這件戰(zhàn)利品提醒著斯考文：自己是誰(shuí)，以及他的敵人又是誰(shuí)。這塊骨頭現(xiàn)在就握在斯考文手中，但他感覺(jué)自己越來(lái)越難以握緊它了。

‘You are not long for this life,’ said the other battle-brother attending to Scoiven, a Techmarine in rust-red armour. ‘Decisions must be made. You have fought for over three hundred years and you are the eldest of all the Imperial Fists. There are few now that breathed while Dorn did. Such a loss is beyond counting.’

“你命不久矣，”另一位照料斯考文的戰(zhàn)斗修士說(shuō)到，他是一位身披銹紅色動(dòng)力甲的技術(shù)軍士。“必須做出決定了。你已經(jīng)奮戰(zhàn)了三百年，是所有帝國(guó)之拳中資歷最老的?，F(xiàn)在已經(jīng)幾乎沒(méi)有與多恩同時(shí)代生活過(guò)的星際戰(zhàn)士，你的逝去會(huì)是我們不可估量的損失。”

Scoiven turned to the Techmarine, Forge-Brother Malkanos, but even that movement hurt. ‘What are you saying?’

斯科文轉(zhuǎn)頭看向了這位技術(shù)軍士——鍛造修士馬爾卡諾斯，但即使是這樣的動(dòng)作也讓他感到痛苦?！澳阍谡f(shuō)什么?”

The Techmarine and the Apothecary exchanged glances. ‘Ancient Kulgatha was lost to the accursed eldar at Venomspire Ridge,’ said Malkanos. ‘His sarcophagus yet lies empty. It is ill fortune to leave a Dreadnought idle for long, especially when a battle-brother worthy of its use lies mortally wounded. But we cannot inter you without your leave, Brother Scoiven. We know you as a man of pride, a warrior who would wish to pass on to the End Time and fight alongside Dorn as a whole man instead of living on crippled within a Dreadnought. But if you choose interment and life as an Ancient, our Chapter will not lose your battle-wisdom for many centuries more.’

技術(shù)軍士和藥劑師交換了眼神?！肮艖?zhàn)士庫(kù)爾卡薩在Venomspire山脈的戰(zhàn)斗中隕落于那些受詛咒的艾爾達(dá)人之手”，馬爾卡諾斯說(shuō)，“他的石棺仍然空著。讓無(wú)畏機(jī)甲長(zhǎng)期處于閑置狀態(tài)是不幸的，尤其是有一名配得上使用這種圣物的戰(zhàn)斗修士受了致命傷時(shí)。但沒(méi)有您的允許，我們就不能將您葬入無(wú)畏機(jī)甲，斯考文兄弟。我們知道您是個(gè)高傲的人，是一位渴望走過(guò)自己的最終時(shí)刻的戰(zhàn)士，您希望作為一個(gè)完整的人類與多恩并肩奮戰(zhàn)，而非被困在無(wú)畏機(jī)甲中茍延殘喘。但如果您選擇被葬入無(wú)畏機(jī)甲，作為一名古戰(zhàn)士活下去，我們的戰(zhàn)團(tuán)就不會(huì)失去您那超過(guò)數(shù)個(gè)世紀(jì)戰(zhàn)斗智慧?！?/p>

Scoiven clenched the Iron Warrior’s bone in his fist, and it took the last of his strength from him. There were a million of them out there, a billion, an untold horde of enemies that begged for death.

斯考文緊緊攥住鋼鐵勇士的骨骸，這耗盡了他最后的力氣。外面的世界中還有數(shù)百萬(wàn)甚至數(shù)十億的帝國(guó)之?dāng)常挥?jì)其數(shù)的敵人在乞求死亡。

‘Do it,’ he said.

“動(dòng)手吧?！彼f(shuō)到。

The steel of his body was cold and clad in ice. Scoiven’s right arm was a massive hammer, a siege weapon that could bring down a fortress. His left was a battery of rocket launchers. When he walked, the forges of Phalanx shook.

他的金屬身軀是冰冷的，也包裹在冰霜中。他的右臂是一柄巨大的攻城錘，這件攻城武器能拆毀一座要塞;左臂是一組火箭彈發(fā)射器。當(dāng)他走動(dòng)時(shí)，山陣號(hào)的鑄造廠都在顫抖。

The chill clung to him, as if he had not quite outrun death. But the strength, the power, the sheer destructive force to be unleashed on the enemies of mankind – that was compensation. This was not an unbearable tomb, the living death that some said was the fate of those interred in a Dreadnought. Yes, he was crippled in body and would never leave the machine’s embrace, but Brother Scoiven was still a weapon in the hand of Rogal Dorn, and by the Emperor that was worth any sacrifice.

一陣寒意籠罩著他，仿佛他還沒(méi)有完全擺脫死亡。但他也得到了補(bǔ)償：可以釋放在人類之?dāng)愁^上的力量、動(dòng)力和純粹的破壞力。無(wú)畏機(jī)甲并非令人難以忍受的墳冢，某些人將葬入其中之人的命運(yùn)稱為“活生生的死亡”。不錯(cuò)，他的身體已經(jīng)殘缺不全了，也永遠(yuǎn)無(wú)法再離開(kāi)這具機(jī)器的懷抱，但斯考文修士依舊是羅格 多恩手中的一件武器，他仍然愿意為了帝皇而做出任何犧牲。

The chill grew deeper. Scoiven checked the runes of the Dreadnought’s power readout, projected onto his retina, but the power plant and life support were running normally. Icy fingers ran up what remained of his body, across the skin of his torso, now sallow and puckered inside the steel sarcophagus, and around the inputs where cables pierced his chest and skull.

寒意變得更為濃重。斯考文檢查了的動(dòng)力讀數(shù)符文，這些信息被投射到了他的視網(wǎng)膜上，但動(dòng)力裝置和生命維持系統(tǒng)運(yùn)行正常。冰冷的手指順著他剩余的軀體移動(dòng)，穿過(guò)他軀干的皮膚——這具蠟黃且皺縮軀體現(xiàn)在困于石棺內(nèi)，侵入到了電纜插入他胸腔和顱骨的區(qū)域。

A face appeared, not a projection but there, inside, with him. It was a skull, wrought from pitted and bloodstained iron, locked into a permanent grin. It was the skull that might have sat beneath a face Scoiven remembered from a lifetime ago, one lying in the bloody ash waiting for the death blow.

一張臉出現(xiàn)了，但它不是投影，而是就在此地，就在斯考文的內(nèi)心中。那是一個(gè)骷髏頭，由帶著坑洞且血跡斑斑的鐵塊鍛造而成，嵌著一個(gè)永久的獰笑。這個(gè)骷髏頭上面曾經(jīng)覆蓋著一張臉，一張斯考文還活著的時(shí)候救記住的臉——那時(shí)候，這張臉的主人正躺在血腥的灰燼中，等待著致命一擊。

“You could not resist taking a trophy of me”, it said. “I lay within that shard of bone for three hundred years. I was patient. And now I have something new to haunt.”

“你抗拒不了從我身上奪取紀(jì)念品的誘惑”，骷髏說(shuō)到，“我躺在這片骨頭中長(zhǎng)達(dá)三百年之久。我是有耐心的人。現(xiàn)在，我有可供糾纏的新對(duì)象了?！?/p>

Scoiven tried to cry out, to scream, but his vocal cords had been removed. He could not move as the cold crept over him and immersed him.

斯考文努力吼出聲，努力想尖叫出來(lái)，但他的聲帶已經(jīng)被移除了。寒意向他襲來(lái)，把他淹沒(méi)了，他卻無(wú)法動(dòng)彈。

‘I told you that you would pay,’ said the Iron Warrior.

“我說(shuō)過(guò)，你會(huì)為此付出代價(jià)?！变撹F勇士說(shuō)到。