Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 55 Snow on Mount Telefus
Morse jumped up from the copper bell of the clock tower against his back, with an interval of no more than one-thousandth of a second, he immediately pulled a pure white note from the air and slapped it on the surface of the clock.

With a flip of his right hand, he transformed into a quill, and he no longer cared about any rhetorical techniques and dramatic terms, and began to speed up writing on the spot.

"Perturabo, you have grown up and matured, and there are all companions in the world who are inseparable. To put it simply, we will never see you again, and don't expect to find me again..."

The next moment, the sound of powder peeling off the edge of the wall tiles made by the addressee came from the other side of the huge copper bell.

Perturabo used astonishing lightness to hang his three-meter-high body outside the clock tower. The only reason why he did not come in was that even if he curled up, the huge clock still did not have enough room for him. Too much.

"You are indeed here, Morse." Perturabo was lying on the edge of the bell tower platform, and the characteristic large laurel ring used for decoration hung neatly on his forehead.The young giant waved his hand slightly: "Everyone, the banquet has begun... What are you writing?"

Morse rolled the paper into a ball and threw it into the air, where it was automatically broken down into dust.

"It doesn't matter if you come, I think you've grown up, so it's time to say goodbye-do you have to lie on the wall for everyone to see?"

Under the impact of the sudden and catastrophic announcement, Perturabo directly broke a piece of relief on the edge of the bell tower.

He grabbed the broken stone and put it back into the bell tower to avoid falling objects, his eyebrows immediately tightened: "This is a closed area in the palace, and everyone in the palace is celebrating the new ruler's ascension in the Grand Theater... Don't disappear! I haven't finished yet!"

Before the words were finished, Morse's new body, which had just been made, fell on the floor.

Perturabo immediately pulled the shell, and found that the entire weight of this hollow shell, which can be called an inferior product, was only on a layer of skin, and there was no substance at all in the invisible parts. Like a leaky doll, it fell limply.

This reminded him briefly of the model he saw on Morse's table last time. The front side looked normal except that it was unfinished, but there was not even a cover plate added to the large hole on the back to save materials. .Morse also mocked him seriously at the time, saying that this was for the convenience of calculating the shrinkage rate and ensuring the degree of combination when the model material cooled.

He withdrew his distracting thoughts, returned to the ground briskly with only a layer of skin left, looked around, and prayed anxiously that Morse hadn't really left.

Why was Morse suddenly in a hurry to leave?Did he accidentally do something wrong today?
Or did someone say something to Morse?
Don't let him know who it is!
"Do you really think I'm too big?" Perturabo held the body in one hand and strode through the abandoned second half of the palace. "I also think so. Any daily necessities in Olympia are no longer suitable for my height. On the first day after returning from the attack on Caldis, they had to report with fear that I might have to lie on the floor to sleep."

The reconstruction work of the palace is still in progress, with the front hall and the main hall being completed first, while the gardens and clock towers at the rear are temporarily arranged in the second half of the list of things.

During the celebration, all non-essential construction has been suspended, and the place is empty for the time being. Only the breeze blows, making the black robe hanging on Morse's body flutter.

"Why are you leaving? It can't just be because of my adulthood."

Perturabo quickly thought about the possible whereabouts of Morse, and his intuition told him that Morse would not just leave like this, although this might just be wishful thinking provided to him by the brain center.

He always knew that Morse had a private storage room, because Morse's items in the Locus Metropolitan Workshop were constantly rotating.Now that he was leaving, he might take with him some of the unfinished crafts he needed.

Perturabo quickly cut off a large piece of the iron-gray cloth covering the construction building next to him with a saber, and quickly folded and packed the body that Morse had left behind.

In the past ten years, the streets he has walked countless times supported him running under his feet.

After leaving Locus Palace, there were more passers-by on the street, Perturabo knew that everyone was watching his actions in silent amazement, but he had no time to think.The only thing he can do is to dodge with inhuman reaction speed before he almost hits a passerby coming from the corner.

"Morse." He whispered to himself, the wind blowing from both sides carrying his words away.

The familiar workshop was in front of him, and he stopped at the door. The wooden door was not locked or closed as usual, and the door panel was shaking slightly. I don’t know if it was Morse who came before him, or the wind pressure brought by him. pushed the door.

After a moment of timidity passed, Perturabo pushed open the door, lowered his body, and carefully squeezed in. The pile of things was so full that the visitor could have the illusion that everything was contained here.

He didn't dare to go any further, because with his current size, if he took one more step, countless shelves would collapse like a series of dominoes.

"Are you here?" he asked, trying to detect something unusual in the slight wind noise.

His sharp eyes quickly caught an old small stone sculpture of two people in the center of the shelf in the room. The vague and weird image was confusing, and one could only barely tell that it was a child fighting with his elders.

He had always thought Morse had thrown it away.

It made his heart skip a beat.

Perturabo gritted his teeth and raised his voice: "Morse! I am determined to re-carve this original stone statue. You know I never really finished it, and since you are going to give me a gift, you also need Accept my reward."

He paused, suddenly feeling bitter in his throat. "You said, I want to learn to be fair."

+ As I said, gifts don't count in the trading system, Perturabo. +
A soft voice came directly into his hearing. He didn't know if this meant that Morse was far away from here, but he clearly understood that this was probably the last opportunity for communication.

Perturabo's furrowed brows unfolded, and his muscles relaxed.

"You did, Morse. So my return is not a gift. It is a weight, a cargo, a price. I will buy your stay with it."

There was a long silence, so long that Perturabo began to wonder whether his behavior was a kind of whimsical absurdity.His fingers were stiff and curled between making a fist and relaxing, and more distracting thoughts flew through his mind.

He didn't understand why everything suddenly changed. Today shouldn't be the moment to say goodbye.

Who wants Morse to leave?

Afterwards, he saw the small rough stone statue float up and land in a translucent palm with a faint golden color that was gradually taking shape.

The black coarse cloth covered the nothingness, appearing in the depths of the workshop.From the flickering of the head rune, he knew Morse was watching him.

+You've learned well, Perturabo. + Nothingness said, with a tone of joy and anger, + As an apprentice, maybe it's time for you to be a teacher. +
“I still have unfinished work,” Perturabo said. "Taking a apprenticeship at this time will only prove that the apprentice you trained is not qualified."

There was another long silence, but the golden figure did not leave.So silence turns into tolerance, and depression turns into gentleness.

When he spoke again, Morse's words were no longer vague.The rough little stone statue turned in his hands, foreshadowing the sharp irony that Perturabo knew so well.

"You are indeed unqualified, Perturabo. There is one thing that you have not noticed all the way. Has the extraordinary perception ability given to you by your creator failed? Or is your creator not good at all?"

"Ah, what's the matter?"

"Your package," Morse said. "How did you pack it? Look down!"

Perturabo immediately lowered his head when he heard this.

Because he came in such a hurry, the torn cloth was forced to prove at high speed that the loom could not make an unbreakable iron plate, even though the dye chose the color of steel.

At this time, the package was damaged by some hook, the bottom was cracked, and half of the black robe was falling out of the iron-gray fabric, fluttering with the wind all the way, suggesting to every passerby that there was something unthinkable hidden in the package. mystery.

Perturabo immediately rewrapped Morse's body, his proud brain was screaming, and he instantly had a deeper understanding of the surprised looks of passers-by.

And Morse's voice still echoed in the workshop.

"...someone is going to ask you how to make a simulated collapsible doll, my apprentice..."

"Okay, I see!" Perturabo said, "So are you going?"

Morse smacked his lips lightly, his tone in a trance. "It's late, unfortunately."

Outside the window, a beam of golden light pierced the atmosphere of Olympia and landed vertically on the top of the eternal snow-capped mountains of Telefus, like a burning star, silent and majestic, incredibly distant and close, waiting for pilgrims to visit.

(End of this chapter)