Warhammer 40: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 67 Treasures
"After that we decided to clear the orbit around Olympia and find the moon that the Black Judgment was occupying."

Perturabo's temporary armor was lying on Olympia's workbench in the form of being disassembled into several pieces.

The young giant bent down, almost lying on the edge of the workbench that was too short for him. The excitement of analyzing new technology diluted his discomfort of not having suitable size tools.

"Morse, from the existing samples, we can see that the power of their laser weapons is obviously limited by the energy source, which is an additional product of a static defense system. The complete framework must still be where they would normally be located, that is, Olympia of the moon."

"You're right. And it's empty now. If the aliens didn't destroy it, then it's an open treasure house. The only way to get the blade and gold is to break the door." Morse sat on the wicker chair Eyes half closed, "Who would do this?"

"Ourselves," said Perturabo, "me and my Legion myself."

"Are you proud of your legion now, Perturabo?" Morse swayed as the wicker chair rocked back and forth slightly.When he decided to pack the necessary items and take them away, he took the wicker chair with him.

"I do need a legion." Perturabo avoided answering the question directly.

He straightened up, stretched his body, took some manuscript paper that he had drawn before, and handed it to Morse.

"The emperor and Horus have left, there are still endless planets in the entire galaxy waiting for the human empire to recover, and my legion is rushing to Olympia."

"They feel guilty for asking me for help when they first met, and they want me to punish them. But before that, I want to choose their colors."

Morse took the manuscript paper, and Perturabo was creating the design drawing as if it were an oil painting. It seemed that he was too excited recently.

In addition, each picture has a yellow and black color combination.This had to make Morse feel that Perturabo had already thought of a plan, and now he was just vaguely boasting about himself in front of him.

"They already have names?"

"Yes. The prayer has also been compiled." Mentioning this, Perturabo moved his lips and suddenly felt a little difficult to speak.

If he were to stand on the podium, he would know exactly how to mobilize the atmosphere of the whole place, and lead the Astartes to shout out the glorious name and slogan of the Legion when their emotions rose to the highest point.

But on such a sunny and lazy afternoon, Morse, who was lying on a wicker chair, introduced his thoughtful prayers solemnly, and the deep meaning behind each word?
Morse keenly captures the hesitation of the young giant.

He immediately sat up straight and put on his standard smile, full of interest. "tell me the story."

"I...just thought about it, there is still a lot of room for improvement." Perturabo explained in advance uneasily.

"Well, so what?"

"Why don't you listen next to me when I meet the Legion?"

"Then why are you showing me your design drawings now?" Morse shook the manuscript paper in his hand, and the paper, which had been increased in weight due to oil paint, rattled, "You won't feel shy when you show me these drawings ?”

"I've never been shy about showing my work," Perturabo said stoutly. "I named them Iron Warriors."

Morse nodded: "Very good, in line with your personal style."

"I hope they are as firm as steel, never hesitating and giving in..."

Perturabo couldn't speak any more. He grabbed a pen and paper from the table, quickly wrote a string of words, stuffed it in front of Morse, and turned away.

Morse stepped back slightly to focus his vision.Then, he deliberately cleared his throat, lowered his voice, and recited word for word in a low and powerful voice: "Steel begets strength, strength begets will, and will begets faith. What did the emperor teach you? Faith begets honor." You actually care about this, honor begets steel - it's back around, well, it's pretty good...

"You write very well, Perturabo. So don't be so coy. You are more than three meters away. Whoever says you can't write well can beat him directly. You can't beat me. And the emperor, Horus , Malcador or something." Perturabo covered his face with one hand, "When did you become violent?"

"When I know that you won't really hurt people because of emotions." Morse took the paper with the prayer written in Perturabo's knuckle-tight hand, and shook his right hand in the air. quill.

He wrote the date of the day on the paper, noted "Perturabo's new work", and threw it into the air. The golden runes flashed and the paper disappeared.

Perturabo, who had just been comforted, was immediately stunned, and a terrible possibility jumped into his thinking circuit.

"Have you been collecting the things I made over the years?"

"Well, it's worth collecting." Morse said directly, "mainly physical objects, the first one is the daguerreotype. Remember it? The one we took under the cliff? At that time you Not so big yet, quite cute."

"You... Morse!" Perturabo yelled in panic, thanks to the Primarch's amazing memory, the wild words he uttered to Morse back then came back to the surface of his consciousness. "you can not--"

"The second one is the double stone statue you sculpted for the second time, the one you won in the contest with me. Because the original one was too huge, I later drew three views for you as a souvenir."

Perturabo felt that the whole world began to shake, and darkness and coldness covered his head. The only thing he could do was to stand there and try to block out Morse's voice, but the tone that deliberately created an emotional and full effect tirelessly invaded. His psychological defense.

“Follow-ups are some exercises you did as a child, some baubles, geometric designs, charcoal sketches. Every time you start a new quest, or I see that you’ve improved, I keep a note. "Morse is so familiar.

"Later, do you still remember that you gave me a camera that you made yourself? Back then, you emphasized to me that your camera has better performance and shooting efficiency is much higher. So most of the subsequent records are made by you. Taken by my camera. Like your stern face when Carifon wears the crown."

Perturabo wanted to sit down, but could not find a chair of suitable size.

"Okay," Morse stood up.He patted Perturabo's forearm. "I treasure these things because I care about your growth."

"I have reflected on it for the past two days, and found that I have admitted to Malcador and the Emperor that I care about you, but I have not said it to you personally. I am determined not to become the same negative example as the Emperor, so I intend to confess that Two lines—well, it's as simple as that. If you want to hear good things, I'll just start reciting hymns."

Perturabo suddenly felt that all the darkness in the world had receded, and all lovely things showed their own brightness and joy, although he still felt that his face was getting hot.

He pursed his lips, and he was too embarrassed to ask Morse about the emperor's statue.

Perturabo couldn't destroy the rare atmosphere at all, and then he realized that the few words Morse just said would also be cherished in his heart.

Forget it today.he thinks.

"Then... what was the last thing you recorded?" Perturabo tried his best to tell himself that there was nothing to be ashamed of.

He has the confidence to tell anyone frankly that he has performed well in recent years and has nothing to hide.

Morse raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers.

A video suddenly appeared in the air.

"I don't need him, Morse." In the video, Perturabo, wearing a strange robe that doesn't quite fit, says solemnly to Morse's statue of the emperor, "Do I need him? I sure don't... ..."

Perturabo clapped his hands on his face, not wanting to say another word.

(End of this chapter)