Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 36 Black Judgment
"What were you looking at, Morse?" Perturabo asked.With the end of the entire ceremony, the knife wound on his hand was no longer bleeding.

"You feel it?" Morse fiddled with a fruit on the plate in front of him, and after playing for a long time, he took a bite. "Your senses are sharpening, Perturabo."

He raised his fingertips and pointed at the golden cup in the hand of the goddess statue that was being removed, destroying the blood cell structure in it and adding some complex energy with mystical meaning to counteract its original symbolic image to guard against possible problems.

"Stop playing riddles." Perturabo said dissatisfiedly. He placed his fingers on the table behind his back and rested on the letterhead sent by the previous soldier.

The anger of being maliciously deceived by the Caldisians did not leave him, but turned into a source of motivation, adding strength to the flow of the heart and blood.

"Is there someone else who wants to commit a foolish act of assassination? Whose malicious intent have you guarded against me? I want to know."

Morse looked at him in surprise and continued to eat his unknown fruit: "It is also your talent to be able to say what you want to thank me like this."

"You started your speech again with disparaging remarks about me."

“Preach in season and out of season; rebuke, warn, exhort—don’t ask me who St. Paul is, it’s not me.” Morse used his psychic powers to keep his language legible so that Eat fruit while talking.

Then he tossed the core into the empty tray, stood up and walked around Perturabo to the other side of the iron seat.

"I'm checking to see if someone has cast a witchcraft on you," Morse said.

Perturabo raised his head with deep suspicion.

Morse went on to add: "I believe I gave you a hint as to what witchcraft--let's call it--was really, and it wasn't my fault if you didn't get it."

"It seems that you have done nothing." Perturabo tried, having learned scattered folk science from Morse for many years, and his best mastery was verbal sarcasm, "except for making mysteries."

"You can use Harcon to practice how to arouse people's anger a few more times." Morse said easily. "To be honest, I have tried my best to choose the words to tell you the truth. But don't forget They can see you, do you enjoy the fear and pain of being noticed so much that you want them to discover you again? My wise Perturabo."

Perturabo frowned at him, the greatest gift of forgiveness that time gave him was that the long-term frown did not leave three vertical lines between his brows.

He soon stopped asking questions, apparently his brain had filled in a theory that satisfied himself.

The young man also stood up from the seat. Since the weight of the iron exceeded the upper limit of his muscles, he could not push the wicker chair away as easily as Morse did. He could only move from the gap between the seat and the table. out.

This may be the reason why he never leaves his steel chair when the crowd is still there.

Perturabo stood a little away from Morse because he was half a head shorter than Morse.

The youth skipped over the subject solemnly.He turned his gaze to a further direction, looking at the end of the ground.The sunlight made the shadows on his face unfathomable, and the inside of his lake-like blue irises burned with red-gold fire.

After this scene lasted more than ten seconds, Morse confirmed that Perturabo was waiting for him to ask him something.

He patted the back of the young man's chair and swung himself onto the steel chair. Perturabo took a step forward and walked into his sight.

Morse propped his head on the armrest with one hand and laughed.

"What made you anxious, Perturabo," he said softly. "What made you want to go to war with Olympia. Did you know that if you build another ten years of machinery, the whole planet will automatically kneel at your feet?"

"Are you still in Lokos ten years from now?" Peturabo couldn't help but ask.He grasped a sharp corner of the steel seat and, after a pause, continued: "You gave me a riddle, Morse. I've been trying to solve it."

Morse selectively ignored Perturabo's first question, "It sounds like you succeeded in cracking it, otherwise you wouldn't be showing off with me."

"Your second puzzle. The puzzle of the moon." Perturabo said, "While I was consulting all the information and documents of Lokos, some documents provided by other countries, and communicating with the nine wise men of Pelecontia, They all paid attention to and sorted out all relevant documents and research summaries in history."

"At the current stage, Olympia's local research focuses more on astrological-level events, and the main research direction is theology and religious semiotics. This is obviously not in line with your expectations, Morse. In this regard, I have paid attention to the movement of the planet. Specific characteristics, re-planning and summarizing and defining many related phenomena on the moon, summarizing commonly used data sets, evaluating and comparing the calculation effects of formulas of typical methods, and discussing the more advanced lunar orbit models and calculation methods in recent years from different dimensions, and finally obtained Come to two conclusions."

"First, the moon is indeed a satellite of Olympia, that is, a celestial body that is centered on Olympia and moves periodically around Olympia in a closed orbit. The diameter of the moon is very different from that of Olympia."

Perturabo explained the definition of a satellite with a serious face and added, "Oh, by the way, I think you know that Olympia is a spherical planet."

Considering that on the planet of human origin in the old night, it took people countless years and even several pioneer lives to conclude that the moon is not the home of the moon goddess in the myths of various races, and that the ground is not endlessly flat. Morse feels that he admires it. Turabo did a pretty good job.

"Secondly, the moon underwent a change of orbit thousands of years ago. The reason is unknown. It may be an impact, a large change in mass, or a change in the gravitational environment. coincides with another important event in time."

Having said that, Perturabo spent a moment observing Morse's facial expression, trying to deduce from it whether he had said something wrong.

Of course, from Morse's unchanging expression, he could only feel the perplexity of facing the puzzle itself, but Morse did not refute him, which in itself was silent encouragement to him.

"Black Judgment." Perturabo spat out the word with strong disgust.

"A color, a term, the puzzle you gave me so many years ago. 'The last time their shadow fell upon this world, slaughter and enslavement fell upon tens of thousands.' That's exactly it. It is completely consistent with the description of the Black Judgment in the Olympian legend. When the judgment comes, countless people will die."

"That's why I have to unify Olympia as soon as possible. A scattered Olympia cannot resist the degenerate group that inherits ancient technology and is willing to entertain itself with human blood for unknown reasons."

Morse heard Perturabo recount verbatim what he told him ten years ago, and raised the corners of his lips slightly: "And I can tell you that they not only inherited the technology of the Dark Ages completely, Including more than a dozen nearby planets into the scope of the reign of terror, and its genes are undoubtedly the development and extension of human beings themselves, rather than originating from a more external alien race."

He looked up at the location of the Olympia satellite, which was invisible in daylight, and knew that the war-in-chief in Perturabo's nature had finally found an excuse for its own existence.

A tool, a weapon.

Both disadvantages and advantages are too human-like.

While thinking, Morse continued: "When I first discovered their existence, I thought they would be related to another fallen alien empire. It turns out that I just overestimated humanity."

"This also made me lose all interest in dealing with them, although if you want to hold Olympia in your hands, you will have to slaughter them all sooner or later in the future."

"I wish you to help this planet leap into the ranks of space civilization as soon as possible. You see, I always tell you everything, child."

"I have completed my naming ceremony." Perturabo said sullenly.

"Well, congratulations on coming of age, you child who cares about your age. Go and devote your skills to the war of reunification. I have no interest in adding a formal tearful farewell."

(End of this chapter)