Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 429 Beauty Perfection and Imperfection
The mysterious mechanical priest who called himself "Lower Deck Maintenance Priest Number Three" was now being referred to by Vosco as Lord Number Three.

Or, to use something more like a name: Lord Tribus.

Based on the knowledge beyond the Medusa Ground that was instilled into his mind by the brainwashing program after he woke up from the operating room, he instinctively knew that this word meant "triple" or "three" in High Gothic.

Its extended meaning is more intimate, "clan"... so why is "three" related to clan? This is not what he knows. He is eager to learn more about the outside world, but is disappointed to find that the knowledge he has been indoctrinated with does not include these further contents about humanities.

...It's just like the people who initially created this knowledge collection believed that the people who receive this knowledge should use their limited brain storage to absorb as much knowledge as possible about machinery, warfare, identifying friend or foe, combat coordination, psychological stability, endurance of pain, and extreme survival, rather than more... astronomy, geography, or humanities and social sciences knowledge.

While it was very, very strange for a Medusan to think this way, it was even stranger considering that Vosko was genetically descended from the Bogus clan, but he was smart.

So he realized at a very young age that his ideas were different, and he kept his unorthodox ideas, which were not beneficial to his survival, hidden well.

As he grew up, the idea of ​​"wanting to fly above the thick and dark clouds, leaving this continent that was always breaking apart, to see the outside world and the lives of different people" became one of the secret driving forces that drove Vosko to participate in the rare Ouranus Rock recruit trial.

...However, although he had successfully ascended the clouds and was flying in the sea of ​​stars, the atmosphere and fighting style of the entire regiment seemed to be different from what he had initially thought. But he saw that the other people in the Dovk clan had adapted well.

After all, the Medusa's life on the surface is precarious, and the average life expectancy is extremely low. Being selected to join the battle group and become a warrior of the Emperor with a lifespan of (possibly) hundreds of years is a huge profit for those who are chosen, and there is really nothing to complain about.

Perhaps after he leaves Clan Dovok (if possible), returns to Clan Borgus, serves in the name of Om Messiah and Ferrus for decades, and implants more bionic prostheses and chips and emotional control modules to replace his flesh-and-blood brain, he will no longer have such crazy thoughts?

After all, the flesh is weak! And Ohm Messiah is supreme!

As he thought this, the hatch closed silently behind him.

The recruit stepped carefully into the deep darkness of the cabin. There were no lights, but his enhanced sense of smell could detect a hint of an extra scent, indicating that the person he wanted to meet should be sitting at the simple shrine ahead.

He wasn't sure what it smelled like, but his pre-loaded knowledge base told him it was "blood or iron mixed with musk roses" and "bath water."

Of the first three, he was only familiar with the smell of iron or blood, and had no idea what musk, rose, or musk rose were. Apparently the person who compiled this knowledge base knew, but as always, it did not go into detail about its meaning and only explained the name of the smell.

But for Wasko's fourteen years of life so far (he had entered a complete chemical sleep during the operation, and he privately believed that this period of time could not be counted towards his age), water only meant a metallic taste, floating black oil, and bitter salty taste, but not this clean, moist, and fresh feeling.

He still remembered that when he woke up in the operating room for the first time and drank the first pack of Space Marine supplements in his life, he was amazed by the liquid mixed with amino acids and supplements. It was not until he drank the drinking water prepared for the recruits who still had flesh digestive organs - rationed to wash down the thick ceramic steel powder porridge, that he knew what completely transparent water tasted like.

He took another step into the darkness.

The strange mixture of smells became even stronger.

This made Vosko a little uneasy, but then a heavy smell of motor oil, promethium, and the thick, black oil deposits that are often found on repair screws and tools, mixed with the heat from the running machinery, blew towards him, making him feel a lot more at ease.

Perhaps the strange smells from before were just the remnants of the expensive incense or candles that Lord Tribus used to worship the God of All Things.

This is not impossible. After all, the minds of ancient machine spirits are more difficult to understand than each other. And as time goes by, most of the machine spirits that were originally easier to talk to will become more cunning and weird, with strange tempers.

For example, one of his former clan's Thinker engines would only work if the most devout believers slapped it while chanting binary prayers loudly. Another example was an ancient giant auspicious instrument that required a dedicated maintainer to knock its head three times loudly from the right direction with precise force in order to remove the snowflake noise and continue to display - so much so that its maintainers, generation after generation, replaced their foreheads with metal and had them thickened and shock-proofed.

A beautiful voice reciting a binary prayer came from a crude electronic amplifier.

It's a pity that Vosko thought that if the loudspeaker was not of such poor quality, Ohm Messiah would be more pleased to hear such hymns.

"Come here, Brother Vosko." The Mechanical Priest lit a lamp on the table, and then lit some candles for worship. The warm light was projected on his huge body in a red robe and a silver-gray mechanical mask, casting a long, long black shadow behind him. "Do you need to pray and meditate alone today, or do you want to confess to Om Messiah? I just happen to have some time."

"Praise the God of All Machines! Lord Tribus, don't you need to go down to do the equipment maintenance today? - I want to pray and meditate alone for a while to calm my mood."

The priest moved his head, as if nodding, "My work for today has come to an end for the time being. So come to this shrine, brother Vosco. Have you been ostracized by those... I mean, veterans from other clans... again today?" Although his voice was heavily electronic, Vosco somehow detected a hint of sympathy in it.

"Not bad." He knelt down in front of the shrine, ready to offer a prayer to Om Messiah for atonement for his clan. With a priest of the God of All Things beside him, such a familiar prayer always made people feel at ease.

"I think they might just be bad-tempered and not good at speaking, and many people's emotional inhibition module is always turned on. Maybe their same words can be better accepted by changing them, so it's better to accept the content instead of paying attention to the words themselves. If I think like this, I can calm down faster."

The Iron Hand recruit heard Father Tribus chuckle twice in the shadow of the lamplight.

"Yes, the art of language is very important in communication. ...Very right, the art of language is right with you, Wasco, this idea is very...right, and you...it's a pity."

"what?"

"Nothing, come, let me start the prayer for you."

In the following time, following the guidance, he began to gradually immerse himself in a state of meditation. As he said, after the prayer ceremony, he felt that his soul was gently soothed and repaired. The overly intense and bad emotions returned to the surface of his mind, just like a burning crater in the deep sea. The magma was hot, but could be cooled by the sea water, a perfect balance.

This was also the reason why he liked this priest so much. Although the Iron Shaman in his former clan or the Iron Priest of Dovk could make his mind cold and calm, and his heart as hard as stone, by guiding him in prayer and confession ceremonies, it was not like this. This actually made him feel more comfortable. This was one of the reasons why he now only chose to come to Father Tribus instead of the Iron Priests of Lakuan.

In the moments when Wasco finally finished his prayers for the day, was about to leave, and had the customary brief conversation with Tribus, he always had a strange feeling that the priest must be a "beautiful" person.

Yes, a "beautiful" person.

Although the Medusa where Vosko Dovko lives is full of radiation, poison gas, lava and crustal movement, and has nothing to do with "beauty" or pastoral scenery in the usual sense, if one were to use a word to describe this priest, the word "beauty" would naturally pop up in his mind, just like the word that humans are born to want to describe this feeling. Nothing is more appropriate than it, and nothing is more like the embodiment of this word than him.

Perhaps, it is because Father Tribus is the most faithful servant of Ohm Messiah that he is given this sense of beauty from the harmony of guidance? Is this the sense of revelation given to him by Ohm Messiah?
"What's wrong?" Father Tribus asked with a strong electronic texture from under his low-hanging sand-red hood. "Today's prayers are over. Brother Vosco, is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"No, Master Tribus." The newcomer of the Iron Hand saluted sincerely. "Thank you for talking to me."

------

In the throne room of the Lakuan Conquest Fortress, the silver giant sat on his newly made mechanical throne. Cables connected him to this huge flying fortress and his many offspring. Through constant data exchange and correction, every machine and operation here became more in line with his expectations.

Billions of light-spot calculations floated in every millisecond of the data cables and links, but outside of the office lines and the lines for trusted senior officers, two highly skilled mechanical experts still quietly built their own dedicated chat circuits.
-
He is back?
-
He came back from the lower deck and seemed in a better mood. I couldn't help wondering.
-
It's nothing strange, Mr. Chuchu. Maybe he just got along well with the new guy from Dorfok. After all, he concealed his identity when talking to him. According to my experience, in this situation, humans are more likely to talk about topics that are suitable for their current mood. If they have an ordinary relationship but have not reached the stage of talking about everything, they will avoid talking and keep silent.
-
Telling your inner thoughts to someone who has concealed his identity? I find it hard to understand. Shouldn't you be more vigilant and more suspicious of the other person's words? In my opinion, the brainwashing procedures for Iron Hands recruits need to be improved to remove more memories and emotions...
-
...Or maybe this new recruit is special, because from what I know, the effect of brainwashing is actually unpredictable. The percentage of people who completely forget their past has been fluctuating around one-third. Your brainwashing is harsh enough. I can't imagine how you can screen out so many new recruits and scouts every year for those crazy line-filling consumption with a planetary population of only 500,000. No wonder your sons hid so many in the secret cellar like squirrels overwintering...
-
Wait a minute, what did you say, 500,000? Consumption? New soldiers?
-
What's wrong, when your biochemical chip circuit is here like a new single stupid dad and allocates a full 10% of your computing power to your monitor, it's me, I'm reading the "Geology and History of the Stenelos System (Internal Reference Edition)" dedicated to "you" by Malkan for you, Mr. Jiujiu. Although it doesn't say so directly, it can be summarized like this.
-
...Ah... They actually write this? A massive historical epic?
-
What? Is it bad? Although it is indeed mechanical and a bit boring...
-
Nothing bad.

A feeling similar to relief and "you are really capable of writing this" was transmitted to the Fearless Phoenix.

In an instant, due to the shared thought link, the subtle thoughts of a Primarch like Ferrus, who always had a cold face, bad temper, and difficulty expressing his subtle feelings with words and expressions, were successfully transmitted to Fulgrim Ishtar.
-
...So I think what they did is a bit like what Robouti Guilliman's descendants did when recording people, so I'm actually quite happy about it...? Gorgon...

A burst of emotional impulses of fierce rebuttal (but to the extent that Iron Hands himself was at a loss) was emitted again.
-
Oh, my friend, why worry so much? I am not Fulgrim here, but I fully understand why you are concerned.
-
Really? No, actually I didn't.
-
I don't want to mention the existence in my world, but Robert Guilliman in this universe is exactly the kind of warrior king you want to be in your heart, right? There are things that you don't like, but you can control yourself according to the actual situation, and you won't be overwhelmed by temporary emotional outbursts, and you can calculate precisely when you need to be ruthless, but at the same time, you won't make people fear you, but only admire you - noble and elegant, like the template of ancient heroic legends, a perfect leader.
-
I do not have.
-
Really? To deny yourself on something like this? After betrayal, death, and so much more. Gorgon. Listen. You are one of the best of all the Primarchs, even if you will admit that you "envy" the others.
-
……
-
What's wrong? That's it. That's what humans are like, Gorgon.
-
… I gotta say, that’s probably because you always watch me with a bias, man.
-
So what? If you ask this young man, I'm sure he would answer you the same way, even though he was angry at you for yelling at him to shut up when you were debating with him earlier.
-
I doubt it.

Garuda seemed greatly relieved that the topic could be changed.
-
I strongly suspect that the psychological pollution and trauma caused by Fabius Bile may never be recovered in his lifetime.
-
If you think so, why don't you kill him at the beginning? Even before this period of time, there are enough windows of opportunity for you. Instead of like now.
-
……
-
Even though my body is made of steel, the softness in my heart still exists. Gorgon, we are each other's mirror, the Third Legion and the Tenth Legion, you and me. You know what I mean.
-
……
-
Being born as a human being means being born with all kinds of differences and flaws, and the Primarch is already the perfect example of humanity. You and I are not imperfect, Gorgon, you just need to be perfect in the eyes of someone to be perfect enough.

(End of this chapter)