Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 56 Extra Story: After all, it’s a home theater
+++The first volume is over, let’s write a side story+++
"Conrad's actions are always so absurd. Why would he repeat to everyone his predictions that are already out of touch with reality?"

Calm anger drove Perturabo's footsteps, he passed through the city gate of Locus, found a place in the wilderness on the outskirts that was wide enough to accommodate his giant body, and temporarily removed the nerve-linking nerves. The data beam rests under the old old tree with no one after the misty sunset.

"Is this how you treat guests, Perturabo?" Morse stepped out from behind the tree.

Perturabo slightly changed the position of his legs and said in a deep voice: "I did not invite my brothers to Olympia just to hear one of them belittle my character."

"Belittling? You're redefining the word," Morse said. "Conrad is often just using his unique madness to reveal another real possibility. Talk to me and he said what's wrong with you." .”

Perturabo's fingers on his knees shrank for a moment, and then shrank into fists, leaving no room to grasp anything.

"He didn't say anything of reference value, and all the facts are clearly contrary to the wild words in his mouth." He said as calmly as possible, but the voice in his throat was very dry.

When Perturabo lowered his head, his huge figure looked very much like the sculptures of tragic works: stiff and hesitant, eyes looking at the earth, immersed in distant thoughts.

Morse stood leaning against the tree trunk and patted the giant's shoulder with his left hand, causing Perturabo to suddenly look up at him.

"Decades ago, I heard a fool's prophecy." Morse said, "The main body of the prophecy is you, although I can glimpse a little bit of my destiny from it. I didn't have time to think about it at the time, but when I recalled it later, I realized everything Fortunately."

"Later, I was walking on the garden paths intertwined with roads. When the time was right, I cut off a few residual leaves from the branches of the phase. I will review it with you today. It is also a good way to pass the time."

He raised his hand, and the curse flowed into the air, constructing a picture without borders.

The sky darkens, the fleet hangs, and the land burns to ashes.The road was blown off, and even the surface of the water on the fertile plain was almost ablaze with black eyes. The deep soil and rocks were the bleeding wounds of Olympia, and countless broken and scorched corpses filled the scars of the parent star with useless remains.

Seeing this scene, the rationality in Perturabo's mind almost collapsed like a rock.

"Who is it—" he roared uncontrollably until Morse pushed him on the shoulder and photographed him into the frame.

He stood on the edge of the mountain ridge, and the Trident members gathered in the distance.The heavy armor was filled with the smell of gunpowder smoke, like an anesthetic, suffocating the brain that was paralyzed by the massacre in the body.This familiar yet unfamiliar body is riddled with scars, extremely heavy and extremely painful, almost a living image of depression and distortion.

In this body, a heavy shudder crucified him in the pain of being unable to react or move. He didn't want to understand it all - because he understood it all.

It didn't take a moment for Perturabo to know that the man watching the bombing of his home and orchestrating the destruction of Olympia was another version of himself.

"Look, Perturabo," Morse whispered, emerging from the smoky air as a pale golden shadow. "To accept this possibility, we must be honest. From another broken reflection, we read and disassemble the ending of the tragedy."

The golden shadow hung beside Perturabo, and Perturabo followed the hideous husk.It was a dead memory, a dead end at the end of a garden maze, and all Perturabo could do was feel.

Of course, his soul can close the eyes of perception in this temporary body, and pass through this nightmare unconsciously without hearing or hearing.

But steel doesn't run away.

Perturabo felt his teeth clenching.He allowed his panic and shrinkage to be replaced by anger - a rage directed only at himself.

Unlike the Lokos designed in its own world, which has a certain artistic sense compared to absolute practicability, this Lokos has been integrated with war and iron blood early on.

The roar of the cannon was solid, catching the entire Lokos in flames.Thousands of cannonballs tore the sky into gray-black rags and pounded into the walls of Lokos through the Arcadia Valley.

Thousands of tons of high explosives were used to cleanse the city that Perturabo had designed decades ago. The city walls collapsed and dust rushed to the sky.

The Lord of Steel destroyed everything he had built with his own hands, tearing out his blood with rage, pain, and ridiculous false cruelty until it was as damaged as his soul.

"You already hate him," Morse said. "Be prepared to hate him even more. But don't hate yourself—the 'yourself' I'm talking to."

Perturabo heard the conversation of the tridents, and the voices entered his ears.

One Astartes insists that destroying the city himself is a waste of the Iron Warriors' manpower, while another explains for the Iron Lord that "he is telling everyone that he has the right to destroy what he has built".

These deplorable words caused Perturabo to briefly fall into self-doubt, while another of his descendants' ongoing explanations were more akin to an unconscious curse.

The Iron Lord cursed his Legion, twisting them until they delighted in massacre on their home planet, and the Legion cursed him with silent obedience, driving him to self-loathing and despair.

The legions quickly entered the city, and Lokos was already in flames.

The sons this city once raised are coming back to kill all the old, men, women and children unfit for genetic modification.The Iron Warriors plucked the people of Lokos, lining them up outside the crumbling walls, coating their flesh with rubble and broken bricks with intense artillery fire.

Perturabo witnessed all this, noticing that one of his heirs hesitated before firing each shot.Perturabo waited in silence as the scion was executed by other mad warriors.

"Steel begets strength," Morse said, "strength begets will, will begets faith, faith begets honor, and honor begets steel."

Perturabo was not sure whether this was an encouragement or a sarcastic comment, but he added in his mind: "This is the unbreakable litany."

As he finished his silent words, Morse responded with precise timing to the unspoken words: "I know you won't let it gather dust. This is not a demand, this is trust."

His honesty comforted Perturabo like a soft touch.

The Lord of Steel followed his legion into the burning Lokos. He saw a small civil strife in the army. Hesitant warriors were labeled as traitors in the quarrel. Explosive shells tore the breastplate, and the curved black and yellow stripes bulged outward. Breaking inward, the first heart burst out with blood, and then the helmet was smashed, and the blood flowed out through the breathing grid along with the passing life.

Perturabo witnessed all this.

His feet walked through the burning houses, through the turned-up roads, through the blood and dirt, and his iron boots kicked away the corpses. Finally, the palace opened to him.He stepped over the gold and silver reliefs that had shaken off the door like a carpet of destruction.The endless sound of gunfire announced his arrival, just like the joyful cheers and greetings of the Lokos people many years ago.

At the moment of entering the palace, Perturabo sensed a revulsion from the Iron Lord's emotion, which was beyond his comprehension.Through a pair of cold eyes he saw the coffin in the middle of the hall, the body of an old man sleeping in the crystal and velvet - far older than the old man Perturabo remembered.

The hand covered in armor was raised, and the cover of the coffin was crushed, revealing an old and thin face.

Peturabo couldn't help but want to shout, that abominable waste!In that world, Damex did not die early from the poison of the four gods, but was forced to death by himself!What a lucky opportunity he had, but he had to put it all into thunderous fire and destruction!
Then his vision darkened and the Lord of Steel closed his eyes.Perturabo heard him call father.

He followed the Iron Lord into the darkness until Morse said softly, "Don't be afraid."

Another voice awakened the Iron Lord, a voice that sounded far older than his own, even though their age gap might not have been that great.

Callifon's voice came from the throne of Lokos.

The Lord of Steel raised his head, and Perturabo saw a woman who was tortured by time, not just old age - the Callifon he was familiar with also refused life-extending surgery. The real source of her torment was far more serious than aging. It can destroy the human mind.

In the throne sits a desperate Defender, her every word weighed down by her weakened lungs, weakened by excessive grief.

The conversation between the two began, and the impact of information allowed Perturabo to quickly analyze the development of the world.

He was first shocked by Olympia's rebellion, listening to the Iron Lord's rejection of the image of Damex, and then became speechless after understanding that Olympia's rebellion was due to the Iron Lord's unrestrained and stupid conscription.

He had several ups and downs, hitting rock bottom after hearing Callifon call him the disaster of Olympia.

"...your nihilism is contemptible, brother," said the aging tyrant sharply.An enraged Callifon, Perturabo was dazzled by the combination of these two concepts, and Callifone should not have been driven here.

They also mentioned other sons of tyrants.Many years since Perturabo left, Harkon was drowned in a barrel for treason, and Andros sadly died one day at the age of 90.The Iron Lord was blinded by the war and returned home, and he, Perturabo, never even had the chance to see these people again.

He felt a hand on the nape of his neck, cold and steady, Morse telling him to relax.And Perturabo didn't know how much longer he could last.

"...The Empire will not succeed," said the Iron Lord, "The Empire is my father's folly. I believe in it because I want it to come true, but nothing is ever so perfect."

So he is a traitor.Perturabo thought silently.

Of course, it's no surprise that a Broken One who hated his homeworld, hated his citizens, hated his offspring, and projected his wrath on everything he had created, should be a traitor.Every punch he throws out hits his tormented soul simultaneously, his emotional relief restrained where it isn't right and over-released in the wrong place.All this is worth pondering.

Perturabo finally separated himself from the empathy of a witness, and once again looked at this absurd tragedy that had ended with a calm mind.

This is not because he quickly found his true location, but because the scene he is currently witnessing is too different from himself.

He no longer accepts another Iron Lord as himself.It was a distorted mirror, a smeared blank, a false paradigm.That's not him, not now, and not in the future.

He will remember everything he saw today, from the tiniest speck of dust to the largest planet, and he will forever remember that a man named Perturabo, who was also reborn in Olympia, who also led the Legion into What kind of terrible abyss can a person on an expedition drag everything into?

He doesn't need to forgive him, accept him, approve him, he just needs to remember.

"...You are weak, as brittle as a dry reed of ill-cast steel," Calliphon said. "You are as angry as a child."

Perturabo hoped that Carifon would stop talking.

His own self-esteem will not be damaged, and the Iron Lord's dignity will not increase because he is not criticized, but there is one thing that will be closely related to it, namely, the life controlled by Callifon.

"...you get an army, and the first thing you do, is beat them all..."

That beast.That madman.That tyrant.That childish child.

"...you waste your soldiers proving what doesn't need to be proved, you get angry when your self-sacrifice is not being noticed and appreciated. You destroy everything, why, brother?"

The man who destroyed everything spoke, and Perturabo was no longer surprised at the man's cruelty: "I am not your brother...mortal love is useless."

The lies he tells can only deceive the self he wants to deceive.He vetoed family affection because he had just destroyed the family affection he had with his own hands.

He no longer deserves love, so he says he doesn't need it.

Callifon's narration continues, the Iron Lord blindfolded by rage, but Perturabo witnesses the tyrant's death.

He stared at Callifon's aging appearance and the last blazing spiritual fire in that body, knowing that he and Morse were the only witnesses to Callifon's funeral in that world.His eyes were burning, and his throat felt like there was cold iron blocking it.

"Your selfishness is sad, brother. You are the biggest fool." Calliphon said.

The Iron Lord rushed forward in rage and seized the mortal by the throat.

Perturabo witnessed it all.

He heard the Iron Lord telling lies, desperately trying to justify his cruelty. "Can't be kind to traitors," he said, so why couldn't he be harsh on his own betrayal?
He questioned the traitor who was mentally shattered, knowing in his heart that the man might not be aware of the self-deception he was committing.

For a moment he began to imagine what exactly went wrong in this scene, and soon he got the answer.

Morse.On this forked road, Morse does not exist.

"For the most part, I don't exist," Morse said softly. "At least I haven't found a second me from my first death. But I've found quite a few other you, some more Well, some are worse. Don't underestimate your potential, but don't overestimate either—I know you won't."

won't it?
He heard a desperate snap of a cervical spine as the traitor smoothed her hair with the other hand as he strangled her.

Perturabo followed the traitor's gaze, and with him looked into Calliphon's eyes.He witnessed the merciful regrets frozen in Carifon's eyes, and his heart became extremely empty.And the traitor, struck down by his own cruelty, fell on the glass, tears rolling down his face of steel that he boasted of.He proved he deserved the pain.

As for Perturabo, his heart no longer ached, only a silent pain remained, silently digging the hole in his body.He will remember it all, not only as a lesson learned, but also as a belated tribute that was too far away.

"Want to see more?" Morse asked.

The light stops vibrating, the dust in the air is still, and the cross-section of time is sealed.The golden light condensed, and the man in black robe walked out of nothingness. The decorative stripes on his clothes were the one he designed for Morse not long ago.

He stretched out his hand, and silently looked at Perturabo inside the shell.

"What happened next?" asked Perturabo.

"A lot," Morse said. "I've been waiting for someone to revisit these stories with me."

Perturabo propped up his body, which was too heavy to move, and tried to hold Morse's hand.

After he got out of this first-person perspective body, he found that tears were still streaming down his face.Then, a blink brings another falling tear.

"You can go to the Emperor. Or the Sealbearer." Perturabo closed his eyes and looked into those regretful dead eyes again.Let others see all this, it is not his shame.And if someone can supervise him more, that would be a good thing.

"The Emperor is too busy." Morse replied, "It won't be too late to find him after the Great Crusade is over and everything is settled."

"You're right," Perturabo said. "We still have a long way to go."

(End of this chapter)