Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry

This was not the first time Perturabo had returned to this scene in his memory, and it would not be the last time.

He stared at the sky of his hometown. There was no blue sky due to astigmatism, and there were no white clouds. There was only the smoke of gunfire as he led the legion back to Olympia.

He could see the shadow of the battleship in the void, and he could also see the battleship's macro cannon shooting at the ground. Perturabo had already calculated clearly what was going on outside this area that was not subject to orbital bombardment, but he He doesn't care, just like he doesn't even care about his own legion.

What brought me to where I am now? Is it an empire? Emperor? It’s still the huge eyes I saw on the cliff when I was young.

Perturabo has been thinking about this issue. He may have thought it through clearly, or he may not, but no matter what, he became a powerful demon ascender in the Eye of Terror, and this was his final outcome.

"Sir! The Havoc troops have finished clearing out the Guards."

A company commander paid tribute to Perturabo. The heavy armor on his body had some damaged holes and even radiated bursts of heat.

Regardless of whether the company commander was injured in the previous battle, he showed his strongest side in front of Perturabo to implement the creed of steel both inside and outside.

Perturabo ignored him and just walked past him without even lowering his eyes, just like he did to these imperfect children before.

Looking at this huge palace, at least according to the history of this planet, it can definitely be called unprecedented.

Perturabo still remembered his own reaction when he was brought in as a child. His uneducated brain and ignorant eyes shone with admiration. He once thought this was grandeur.

But after he entered the universe and matured under the baptism of time and knowledge, he no longer thought that the palaces made of these stones were some magical and rare sights.

Only some blood and debris were left in the cleaned hall. The slow movement of the Iron Warrior made Perturabo a little impatient. He turned back and stared coldly at the company commander just now.

Under such intimidation, this tenacious warrior, who had never bent down under enemy fire, knelt down towards Perturabo.

Kneeling down did not make Perturabo feel any joy or relaxation at all. Instead, he responded with deeper disgust at the performance of the company commander.

He raised his foot and kicked him away. The already injured company commander's injury became more serious. His armor scraped mercilessly against the ground, creating a series of sparks.

None of the surrounding soldiers dared to come forward to help. They knelt down to Perturabo without saying a word.

After Perturabo walked away, soldiers came over to help the seriously injured company commander, and took him to find a Leviathan Dreadnought that had not yet entered the battle to put in and save his life.

The cruel and aloof Iron Lord entered the hall, and his eyes were attracted by the coffin in the middle.

The coffin was intricately carved from Olympian stone, and inside was a beautifully transparent crystal coffin, with metal plates melted and reformed into crystal panes that were harder than diamonds and placed on top.

On the soft red velvet blanket inside, sleeping was the body of Damex, the deceased tyrant of Lokos and the imperial governor of Olympia, who was also the adoptive father who adopted Perturabo.

Walking towards the coffin respectfully, Perturabo gently stroked the surface of the coffin with his hand, so as not to break the seemingly solid coffin into pieces with his rough movements.

Perturabo stared at Damex in the coffin quietly. His former father's face was sallow and thin due to old age.

The cold corpse did not have many implants, nor did it have the inhuman modifications that can be found in the Adeptus Mechanicus. He was simply too old, so old that even a mortal could not withstand the baptism of time after several life extensions, that's all.

"Father."

The meaning is somewhat complicated, mixed with anger and helpless pain.

But this weak noise echoed very clearly in the hall. Even with the thunderous sound of exploding shells from outside, it could not cover up Perturabo's lament.

"Father. Ideal. Failed."

"You never called him father when he was alive, why are you doing it now?"

An old and heavy female voice came, which made Perturabo's heart become slightly more active because of the heavy memory of the past.

Looking up, in the throne of Lokos, between the two statues of the twin god kings, there was an aging female figure.

This woman was not frightened by Perturabo's war armor, nor was she frightened by the sound of gunfire from time to time. She just stared at Perturabo's face tenaciously and firmly, with only disappointment and coldness in her eyes.

"elder sister."

Perturabo spoke, his voice a little hoarse and dry. Facing the only girl she almost fell in love with, his sister was playful, complex, and intelligent. He could not forget the experience of being led to play in the palace by his young and lively sister when he was a child.

Even though his sister has grown older over the years, Perturabo still looks at her as she once looked at her.

It's just a pity that like the Emperor, she failed to live up to Perturabo's expectations, which made him feel disgusted.

"elder sister."

Repeated again, it was like Perturabo shouted twice in front of his adoptive father's coffin, his sister deserved such respect from him.

"Now I am a sister, and he is also your father?" Perturabo's sister's voice was not very nice, and her words were equally cold. "Only rebellion can make you say these warm words. It is really ironic and regrettable. ”

There was a burst of bolter fire, like thunder exploding in the night, returning the power of speech to Perturabo.

"Rebellion, there is never any rebellion." Perturabo said, "They failed me, I just get what I deserve, that's it."

"So facing your hometown and soaking it with artillery fire and blood is what you think you should do?"

"Do you think what happened in Olympia is all my father's fault?"

"Do you know how many people are working against him behind the scenes?"

"Do you know that he never had the courage to say that his power comes from your existence?"

The series of rhetorical questions made Perturabo's sister's old and weak lungs unable to support her. She gasped and held on to the armrests of the throne so that she could stand up.

Perturabo knew that this kind of weakness and old age was an action simulated by the robot based on codes and memories, but he was unwilling to point out the adjustment.

He made this robot with the same personality and memory as his sister, not to improve his technology.

Perturabo's journey, I created everything to support the empire, but the empire has nothing in return for me. Kill kill kill kill kill kill!