Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 451 Conversation

"We haven't talked like this for a long time, father..."

"There was a time when I had no time to pay attention to you," the Emperor said frankly. "I am pleased that each of you performed well."

His dark skin was even darker under the moonlight, but in turn was highlighted by the gold threads on his gray robe. A simple golden leaf crown held his long, dark, flowing hair to prevent it from blowing in front of him in the wind. This kind of decoration is incredibly simple for the Lord of mankind.

Magnus followed the Emperor uncomfortably around the spiraling stairs in the observatory tower and up the light that filtered into the tower from the night sky above.

There was some solidified wax on both sides of the steps, where the candle burned until its wick was exhausted. The back hem of the Emperor's robe swept over these peeled twigs of white wax, swaying in plain sight before Magnus' eyes, with a little dust on the corners and no glow at all.

This reminded Magnus of something from long, long ago, when he was still young. He liked to explore the unknown and find out why they wanted to live in Tizca on things that others took for granted. Inside the walls, why the Great Library is a pyramid instead of a square, why light bends in a bottle...

Soon he found that he wanted to know too much, and the place where they lived was cramped.

Tizca is big, beautiful inside, and the people are friendly, but the outside world is wider. Even though it looks desolate, why can't we cultivate it, build houses, and let people live outside? Magnus had ten thousand new questions every day, nine thousand of which were blocked by the gray cloud of danger from the Devouring Bees. His eyes were far away, but the world still felt cramped.

So he could only look within. Without leaving home, he lit up the meditative incense, applied some ointment, and then hesitantly threw a few stones into the waves of his inner world to test the waves.

Then, he saw the Emperor there, bathed in the colorful light, but only using blazing white to open up a dust-free land, and the ashes of light were flying in the Emperor's white world. A sun illuminated Magnus.

Magnus followed behind the Emperor, strolling through the world of the Warp as if he were walking on flat ground. Even though he now knew the true form of the Warp, the sight of the Emperor's back walking before him was still unforgettable.

His red cloak undulated like a blood-stained ocean, and a gorgeous bronze pistol was fixed at his waist. Sometimes he held a long sword with flowing brilliance in his hand - for someone who grew up among scholars. To Magnus, he thought it was a lantern.

The chaotic winds fled in panic around the lantern, and the roars of the warp creatures withered into the faint sound of mosquitoes and flies in front of the Emperor. They melted fragilely and disappeared, leaving unwillingly.

Magnus followed behind the Emperor, where all the waves were as solid as ice, and the vast and colorful world ahead was illuminated by lanterns.

"This is the world you will face," the Emperor had told him, and he poked his head out from behind the Emperor and looked into the distance.

Time passed, the wind and rain changed, and they hurriedly communicated, issuing or accepting tasks, keeping the entire galaxy running smoothly at the Emperor's fingertips. True to the Emperor's words, Magnus was immersed in a wider world, and all the tasks that were required of him were both vexing and fascinating to him.

However, when he stopped from the storm of trivial matters, when the Emperor once again walked in front of him, leading him, using his back to guide him, Magnus suddenly discovered that it was close to two hundred years ago. It's over.

001.M31, a new era begins here. Many things happened in this year: the surrender of Interrex, the assassination of Perturabo, the victory of Ullanor, the assassination of Horus, and the coronation of the Warmaster... And at this moment, the emperor frowned and knocked on the dusty lock, and the iron door of the observatory bounced open.

"Am I doing well?" Magnus asked uncertainly.

"Exceeds my expectations, take a seat." The Emperor said, first leaning against the dark stone wall of the observatory, the golden leaf laurel on his head echoing the hazy stars in the sky. Magnus sat on the floor on those soft cushions that were spread very casually, feeling an indescribable embarrassment in his heart. The embarrassment melted away when the Emperor nodded to him.

"Recently..." he began racking his brains, "Well, we have basically repaired the webway, and I think it will meet your requirements. Perturabo is looking for our lost brother, Horus - Horus How is Si?"

"He is still asleep, but he will be fine," the Emperor said, looking outside the tower. "I heard you were looking at architectural drawings?"

Not far away stood a tall white marble tower, the Tower of Astartes they swore upon when they returned. There, the Emperor was the Emperor of the Galaxy, speaking his mind to his future subjects. But here, in the corner where children's galaxy albums and picture books are still stacked, things seem different.

"Oh, yes," Magnus said, "From the hands of the silversmith, they are either ordinary or whimsical. I arranged tens of thousands of combinations and found no secret words or anything meaningful... You know Silversmith, father? He died before you returned to Terra."

"I think I know him," the Emperor replied, his eyes falling softly, adding just as much sadness to them.

"Then he betrayed you!" Magnus said angrily, crossing his arms in front of him dissatisfied.

"Maybe," the Emperor said, "do you have any thoughts on the drawings themselves?"

"Half of it is very rigid, and it pursues templates more than the standard universal theater designed by Perturabo - except that he likes to use crystals, which deviates from the characteristics of the template. The other half does not match his style at first glance, and is more like his imitation of other styles.

"It can be seen that a certain huge tower is designed with only a narrow bottom surface to support the sky-high platform above, which is unreasonable in structural mechanics. Such a design has obvious defects in balance, and any disturbance of local balance may cause the collapse of the entire structure. Therefore, it can be inferred that the silversmith may have borrowed too much from other styles in this design, and ignored the actual stability of the structure..."

"Have I said too much? "He suddenly stopped talking, because the king, who should have been serious, had been looking at him. His expression was neither relieved nor sad, but just a distant realization, like the light of the stars in the sky falling down.

"No, you said it well," the Emperor answered frankly, looking at the place next to Magnus.

Magnus had long realized that it was where Horus used to be. After all, the cushions were piled up in a mess, like a small nest, with books and quills, and even a ceramic plate buried in it. He smiled slightly for this. "But," he said, "Father, why did you suddenly bring me here today?"

"Because you are the only one who happens to be in Terra." The Emperor said.

His gaze made Magnus feel so strange, he looked at him, as if he saw him again, completely giving up the past, just like the way he looked at and examined him when he first met in the spiritual world.

"I can't bring Horus here, he is still recuperating. "

He paused, "There is not much time left until the last moment, Magnus."

"Then--" Magnus muttered, if other sociable Primarchs were here, what would they say? This is too difficult for him, just like if Perturabo was here, he would definitely be able to analyze the Emperor's psychology clearly.

"Then after we lock Tyrant Star on the Golden Throne, should we invite everyone to hold a banquet?"

"I think..." The Emperor pretended to be thoughtful, and then shook his head, "Why not before that?"

"But we can't celebrate before things succeed, so what if... Oh, we will definitely succeed." Magnus immediately changed his words.

"Your suggestion is good," the Emperor's eyes still stayed on Magnus, "Before that, I want to talk to each of you. Our expedition started at the Astarte Tower, why not end it here."

"Talk like you and me?"

"Talk like we do."

For some reason, Magnus' heart was a little excited, "Including all of us? "I hope so." "Then-" "Yes, if possible, I hope to include No. 11 as well." The Emperor said, answering the question without Magnus' hesitation. "Some things have changed, some plans have been replaced by new plans, but they left too early to understand." "What are they?" "Things that no longer need to be mentioned." The Emperor said, "Just like you, I always thought at first that a tower of Babel was too slender to withstand the collapse of the entire sky." —— "You must have heard it wrong," said Lorgar Aurelion, and said to Rivka seriously, "Or you have been deceived by something that should be removed, or you have listened to fragments of enlightenment, so that you don't understand the whole situation. How many mistakes are made under the arrogance and blindness of ignorance?" "No, Aurelion," Rivka raised his head sadly, "I really heard it, and I am still listening. I can hear a few words from time to time, the sound of their discussion, right next to my ear..." "Praise the Emperor. "Lorgar sneered in a low voice, staring at the mortal with purple eyes.

The mortal was a little frightened, and then quickly and sincerely clasped his hands together: "Praise the Emperor, my only true God."

Lorgar's attitude quietly softened. Now that he knew that Rivka was still loyal, everything would be fine.

"What else did you hear, sister?"

"I heard that they went to a small town..." Rivka said, Lorgar took off the wreath on his head and handed it to her, so that she could calm down.

The melodious sound of playing music came from the other end of the street, like petals falling from the eaves.

The tone of the female believer gradually became ethereal: "I heard that they arrived at their destination and walked into the house,'This place is empty, she took everything away,''No, she destroyed the traces of their lives when she left, I can no longer detect the remaining psychic energy...'The last part was unclear, Aurelion, they continued to walk in the house, looking for him What we need..."

Aurelian's expression was calm. Judging from his appearance, others could not even be sure whether he was listening. Through his eyes, a mortal would see the shape of his own soul, which was slightly distorted and incompletely reflected due to the light and shadow and the curvature of the eyeball.

He whispered to the clerk who came with him to ensure that his whispers would not disturb Rivka's listening and relaying. Today was supposed to be an annual celebration day in Yasime. The Word Bearers had just arrived, and he hoped that his priest would first take a look at the custom of offering gifts to the Emperor here so as to make the next decision.

"...According to the layout, I think it is...locked - you know I have no morals...This is the room where No. 11 lives?" Rivka relayed intermittently, her eyes closed peacefully, her expression more peaceful, like a hand brushing across her face, filling the bitter gullies in her life with a faint soft light.

Lorgar was immediately attracted.

He remembered No. 11, the madman who deceived him, hurt Horus, and betrayed the Emperor.

Perturabo promised him that he would find him and make him pay for his crimes. So, does this enlightenment mean anything?

The music from the outside world was closer, and Lorgar heard the sound of a float team, the strings were plucked, the music was like flying flowers, and bursts of laughter came in through the cracks in the wall along the golden leaves wrapped outside the chapel.

"No. 11 left a clue... This shouldn't be the case. Why would he leave a trace on his own initiative? No... Because Erda is not here? He... Maybe Tyrant Star cannot be free from the control of the Emperor..."

Lorgar was stunned for a moment. After receiving this message, he almost blurted it out subconsciously.

"Rivka, stop," he said, even though he still maintained a soft and comforting tone, "Don't speak it out rashly with words. If He wants you to remember it, you will still remember the voice you heard after today. Don't be in front of me again..."

He was suddenly speechless, realizing that his fear made him say something inappropriate. This message made him panic. When he heard the names of Tyrant Star and Emperor listed side by side, a chill swept through his cerebral cortex. This is not because they are unrelated, but because Lorgar Aurelion cannot help but think that they are related.

He just lacks a piece of evidence...

On the other hand, Lorgar thought randomly and hurriedly, No. 11 left a clue to Perturabo alone - why - this means that No. 11 is about to be found, a good piece of good news, worthy of his joy and happiness, but what is the connection between No. 11 and Perturabo?

"I will catch him," Perturabo once promised, and the new warmaster took his hand, "He stole the blade from me and hurt my loved ones."

But Lorgar still remembered how Perturabo stopped him from exterminating Interrex, and a stab of pain gently passed through his two hearts.

He always has a vague guess, but he treats it cautiously, hoping that the missing evidence will never be completed. Father, forgive his cowardice of not wanting to open his eyes.

Rivka suddenly recovered from his wandering state, lowered his head, and blushed with shame. "Aurelian, I'm sorry, peace be upon you and me who are His..."

"No problem," Lorgar said, "We'll sort out your enlightenment tomorrow, listen to His voice, or find the devil in it. Then, come with us to the festival, Rivka, we heard that you are seeking rebirth at the ceremony."

"Yes," Rivka smiled, "You must come and see, we dedicate the winter ceremony to the Emperor and the summer ceremony to Black Star. Now is the summer season."