Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 59 Family Gatherings

Perturabo poked the barbecue steak on the silver dinner plate with the enlarged Primarch's fork, his eyes drifted from the heavy oil paintings hanging on the wall of the room to the netted white gauze curtains, trying to use the new The way to line up the new simple gold trim, and replace today's complicated design.

When Morse called his name, he immediately replied, "Morse is always exaggerating the truth", and at the same time turned his attention back to the present, which puzzled him and could not be dismantled, played by small animals. In the center of a complicated scene full of mystery like a ball of thread.

"Am I exaggerating?" Morse rested the thumb and index finger knuckles of his left hand on his chin, and sat on the left hand side of the emperor. He was clearly talking to Perturabo, but he looked at Horus, "But you That is so extraordinary, Horus. Both of you bear a fitting resemblance to the crowned man who now sits on the throne. And I never use a lie to satirize."

Perturabo felt Horus, who was sitting with him directly opposite the Emperor, look up quickly at the Emperor, and then pretended that the intent glance to observe the Emperor's reaction hadn't happened.

He nodded with the wolf's head connected to the pearly white fur on his shoulders, like the half-host of the banquet, polite and tolerant.

"Thank you for your praise, craftsman," Horus said contagiously. "Thank you also to my father. We are only one percent similar to the image in his design."

The Emperor struggled to answer after being mentioned: +You... have already met my assumptions. +
"Does it match?" Morse asked suddenly, successfully intercepting the joy of Horus about to float up.

Malcador sat at the Emperor's right hand, silently cutting the gratin of long-handled green leafy vegetables on the plate.

The chancellor pulled up his black hood, probably the only thing left in his world was the tough vegetable leaf stalk, but Perturabo didn't think the chancellor really didn't know how to cut it with a spoon instead of a knife. What a tough dish.

"Do you have any suggestions for our actions?" Horus asked.

"Well, actually, I have no advice for you." Morse picked up a wheat flour product from the plate and twisted it on the tip of his fork. "You are the person on this table who I know least about the spiritual things. As for the non-spiritual things, I am more interested in the origin of this viscous drink."

"Do you know my father?" Horus's voice became a little sharp. "How long have you known the Emperor of Mankind?"

"...this drink is the milk of a beast of burden in the Obscure Sector," Malcador said slowly, proving the Emperor's true intentions in letting him sit at the table together. "Helps increase the body's resistance to toxic substances."

"I was still young then." Morse let out a light snort without being disturbed by Machado's thoughts, and let go of the innocent pasta with the fork in his hand. "I have known him for a long time. But I guess you have been through thick and thin with him, Malcador. Your appearance is much older than your soul."

The Emperor naturally avoided answering by drinking.

"I have also been with my father for many years. I returned to my father very early," Horus said, trying not to fall into Morse's rhythm. "And Perturabo was the first brother I met."

The God of Shepherd finally threw out his opening remarks that he had been preparing for many years. He hadn't found a chance to speak in today's wind and snow. This made him doubt whether his father would think he was slow in the past 10 minutes.

He said to Perturabo seriously: "Perturabo, I am Horus. As the son of the first returner, I think I have an obligation to be friends with you and help father give you some guidance."

"I'll need it." Perturabo decided to speak the truth. "I still know very little about this crusade you speak of, and neither you nor the Emperor. But be prepared, I do not have your good temper, Horus."

Now every time he sees the Emperor who is tearing bread, he will think of the joke in his mind a few days ago, that is, he must tell Morse that he must follow the Emperor, his biological father, so as not to be criticized and ridiculed by Morse every day.

Now he decided to keep the thought to himself forever and never say a word, for the Emperor, after drinking the wine and tearing the bread, was working on peeling potatoes with the tip of his fork.

"It doesn't matter, my brother." Horus seemed relieved, "We can discuss all this in detail, such as how you will take over your legion, and the truth of our empire."

"You did take him for a long time yourself, Emperor," Morse said. "'Imperial Truth,' sounds exactly like yours. And the color of the armor, pearly white again? I'm surprised you'd wish This color once possessed by a commander reappears under the banner you unfurl."

Horus' attention was successfully diverted to a few words in this passage, and he glanced down at the color of his armor, obviously confused.

The Emperor put down the imperfectly peeled potatoes unmoved.

+I don't limit the color. +The psychic ability conveys the language to the minds of everyone present, which is not only a manifestation of the emperor's mighty power, but also saves the emperor from the trouble of choosing a tone.

"You're only restricted by name." Morse whispered, taking a deep look at the Emperor. "Although I didn't know it until twelve hours later, you still remember things so far back."

Macado finally cut off the vegetables with a spoon, and the metal made a crisp sound when it hit the ceramic surface.

The old man said "Sorry" calmly, and slowly picked up the overcooked vegetable leaves with a fork.

"The memory of the father contains the knowledge of all mankind," said Horus uneasily. "He remembers all the starry moments in the history of mankind."

"Perhaps you are right, Luperkar," Mors said. "The Emperor mentioned to your eldest son, what names did he give to his other children? Macedonia? Carthage? Byzantium? Frank?" "

"I didn't mention it." Horus didn't know the truth, and Morse had no intention of targeting him.He had no idea of ​​the existence of Horus himself, except that the young extraordinary man worshiped his father too much.Apparently it wasn't Horus' fault.

Under Morse's gaze, the Emperor's lips were pressed together, and the golden spirit made his face more sacred and lofty.

+I didn't give them the ancient Terran name, Morse.The old empires have crumbled. +
"But you remembered the name of a cave," Morse picked out the title, "Emperor."

Horus gripped the fork as hard as he could while avoiding breaking it, and he could hardly wait to solve this enigmatic riddle.The intimacy symbolized by Morse's proximity to the Emperor made him almost wince in inconceivable proportions.

The returning eldest son quietly observed Perturabo, and the new young man obviously knew nothing about it. At this moment, the curiosity exchanged by the two brothers' eyes became the first link between the two.

The Emperor was slow to answer, + Yes. +
+I thought you didn't like it there. + Morse also used psionic powers.His aggression was briefly replaced by flinching in fear of an answer for a moment.

He then suddenly became more forceful: + You have new heirs and companions.You are building a new empire. +
+Oh...+said the Emperor,+everything is moving. +
"But we also need help from the past." Malcador's aging and tired voice sounded.

"Like Morse?" Perturabo asked.

(End of this chapter)