Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 1 Perturabo
This is the 30th millennium since Jesus died.

The Milky Way, the Ultimate Star Field, Olympia, Locus, and Priggia under the cliff.

Deep in the dense forest, there are few people.

The smooth silver-plated copper plate is placed in the dark box, the dark box is placed in the dark box, and the indoor lighting is adjusted to the optimal light and dark ratio.

"A long time ago, in the Europa region of Ancient Terra, a craftsman invented daguerreotype photography..."

Someone whispered to himself, debugging the machine.

Within the frame of the ancient shooting technique, a reluctant boy is pushed into the camera, with a faint anger burning in his ice-like blue eyes.

If this flame can break through the shackles of idealism, it will surely ignite the dense spiky green leaves around him and the fence surrounding the wooden house.

"Photography? You won't succeed." The boy's teeth rubbed together.

"Oh." Outside the scope of the camera, a cold male voice sounded at the same time as the collision of panels inside the camera obscura. "You think I care?"

The boy was determined to resist.

He stepped over thorny vegetation, his bare feet on gravel and dry earth.His skin was not tough enough to be damaged by foreign objects, and the short grass scratched his ankles, but it was not enough to scare him.

"Damn it." A low mutter.

Another man appeared in the camera range, tall and thin, with messy black hair, black clothes and black trousers that were different from the local loose bright-colored robes, tightly bound by the same color bands around his limbs.

He put his arm firmly around the boy's shoulders.An inexplicable energy restrained the boy's actions.

A string of ice crystals formed on the grass, the cold air climbed up the camera obscura, and the daguerreotype camera began to operate.

"I had to record this momentous moment, and this camera was the only prop I could make with my bare hands. An inhuman boy falling off a cliff... It's rare for a camera to capture such a wonderful scene in millennia .”

The man explained coldly, it was difficult to read any valid information from his face.

The boy couldn't help but associate the malevolent vortex of stars watching him in the sky with the nameless man, even though his logic couldn't make any assumptions that his proud rationality would admit.

He forced himself not to look at the man's hateful and mean face, and ignored the cold hand on his shoulder.

The camera re-captured the boy's face, which was stubborn and cold, like an unforged iron stone.

"I..." A short syllable escaped the boy's mouth, and the rest of the words were swallowed by pride.

The man asked: "You don't like it?"

The boy was unwilling to answer.Any question that mirrored his weakness made him feel like a part of himself was being exposed - the part he hated the most.

The corner of the man's mouth was lifted up briefly, and he didn't put it down again.

The long exposure requirements of daguerreotype photography made him decide to stand still, but this did not prevent him from speaking.It was too easy for him to say anything.

"If you can't answer, I'll think you like daguerreotypes." There was a characteristic arrogance in his tone.This disgusted the boy.

arrogant.

The boy chewed the word with contempt.

He hates this man.

The only reason why he can currently endure his evil deeds is because he cannot defeat the opponent in terms of strength.

"I still don't have your answer," the man said lightly. "What? Suddenly you can't understand what I'm saying?"

The tip of his tongue suddenly rolled up a fine hiss, combined with a caressing exhale.The boy easily recognized that this was a more ancient language on this planet, and the semantics were consistent with the previous question.

Before he had time to be proud of his knowledge, the man went on to the next language without stopping, crisp and fast, combined with countless opening sounds, like an iron wire hitting a two-edged tuning fork.

The boy frowned.He could understand, but he didn't understand how there was another person in the world who knew such an ancient language - he felt that there must be something wrong.

The man's fingers were as cold as cold iron.The boy began to find the scenery around him abominable.

The high cliffs are abominable, the shrubs and gorse are abominable, the dark green olive leaves are abominable.

He didn't originally hate the planet he was on now, but the man had single-handedly changed him.

In the sky, the gaze of the star vortex was ignored by him as usual.

Then came the third language.Too much tongue snapping and an upturned coda make it frivolous.Then there is the fourth one.The fifth type.

enough.the boy thought.

But the man's provocation did not end.

The boy takes some self-deceptive comfort from the knowledge that later the daguerreotype shows the man's mouth as blurred and ridiculous.

Sixth language.Older and more complex.From another planet that humans have ever set foot on.Even a boy must dig out the knowledge map of the language from the bottom of his memory.

The semantics have not changed.But the boy couldn't stop reinterpreting it, he couldn't admit defeat.

Seventh.

The boy felt that the whole world was shaking around the man's hand on his shoulder. He shook, deciphered half of the words, and used the rest of the time to tell himself that he was indestructible steel.

The eighth type.A tonal language rich in meaning, with more meaning than structure, many function words, weak grammar, and loose logic - of course he can understand it, but...

"Enough!" the boy screamed in High Gothic. "What do you want to prove? What do you want from me?"

Anger overcame everything.He used all his strength to break free. This was the first time in his memory.

But this is also because his memory started three or ten minutes ago, when he was about to climb up the cliff, but he stumbled and fell because of the laughter of the man in black beside him.

Then he was led by the unknown man to the wooden house where he lived alone, far away from the distant city-state, isolated from the white-gold soldiers and bronze doors, saying goodbye to the village streams and stepped reservoirs, and looking at the triple walls and towers of the palace wall. The triple tip of the top, here to accompany him to take some damn daguerreotype photos!

who is he?How dare he do this to me!

The response he received was the man's sudden relaxation, and a contemptuous snort: "We're finally talking."

In the shot, the man steps across the grass and reaches out to the camera with his hand wrapped in black cloth.

The silver plate was taken out. Due to insufficient exposure time and the subject being too active, the details on the entire silver plate were blurred.

The boy found that before he had time to sarcasm, the low temperature rolled over the silver plate, and the unknown energy directly carved the photo of the two of them with the highest precision and amazing accuracy.

A trace of pleasure flashed across the man's face, which meant more provocation to the boy.

"Well, I'm fine," he said. "You look like a bad boy, but that's not something I'm worried about. Tell me your name?"

"Perturabo," said Perturabo quickly, "this is my name, and I will not change it. I don't know what it means but I will find out. You cannot change my name."

"What makes you think I'm going to change you? Just because I took you to take a photo? Oh, maybe it doesn't count as a photo. This is the downside of falling on a planet that is so backward and can't engrave a chip by hand. 3 The technique invented by my friend more than [-] years ago, I can probably remember it well."

The man's smile appeared naturally on his face, diluting his cold scrutiny.

He raised the engraved silver-plated copper plate in his hand. At this time, the boy's name was engraved on the lower right corner of the silver plate, leaving a space.

"Perturabo, I am a fair person, so I will reward you."

I will not accept it.Perturabo thought indignantly, in his conception, men had died ten thousand times in the most painful way, but in reality, the only resistance he could do was to refuse a reward.

wait.wait.He knew that his growth would be unbelievable, that his knowledge always came naturally to him, that he was born to be otherworldly.If the man left him here, he would kill him sooner or later.

The man placed the silver plate flat in front of his eyes, looked at it, and said flatly: "You can name it for me."

"what?"

"This is the reward I give you." Instead of focusing on observing the boy's injustice and indignation, the man seemed to think that the silver plate in his hand was more important.

Perturabo could hardly bear the humiliation.He gave an insulting answer before thinking about why the man didn't have a name.

"Canas," he cursed, which is the High Gothic name for an organ.

The man smiled in surprise. "I won't accept it, don't you consider changing to another one?"

"Morse." Perturabo flinched.He gave another word that had the same bad connotation, but was much more toned down.

The man nodded. "Death?" he repeated in the eighth language he had tried earlier, and carved the word Morse into the opening on the silver plate.

"You can go now, Perturabo." Morse put away the silver plate and turned around grimly.

(End of this chapter)