Chapter 99 In Another Place
Perturabo began to climb again, his gauntlets firmly grasping the broken structural frame of the Great Pyramid of Tizca, his iron boots stepped on the debris of glass and metal, and Some damp remains of the Devourer's utensils hung from the frame.
More than ten years ago, his consciousness was reborn during a climb, and he met Morse.
A month ago, he climbed up the snowy peak, met his real father and brother at the top, and regained his identity as the emperor's son.
Today, he pulled himself up to the top of the pyramid with its tip cut off, and among the ruins saw his first brother who personally welcomed back to the empire. The red giant sat silently under the starry sky, resting quietly against the remains of the gorgeous spire of the past. His burnt-dried red hair was scattered around his neck, and his scarlet skin as smooth as molten copper and his simple robes were soaked in sweat and blood.
The shadow blocked the upper half of Magnus's face, and the long blood trail that fell down his right cheek into his robe was like a string of dark tears under the moon, sliding across the peaceful face of the original body.
Perturabo walked up to Magnus and stretched out his hand simply. Magnus' tired body moved, placing his right hand into his brother's palm and allowing Perturabo to pull him to his feet.
"Magnus, the fifteenth Primarch, from Prospero." Magnus reintroduced himself. The mutilation of his face was illuminated by the light, and the terrible hollows in the thin closed eyelids made Perturabo couldn't help but hold his brother's hand tighter.
"Perturabo, from Olympia." Perturabo raised his head, put a hand on Magnus's shoulder, pulled Magnus in, and gave him a brother's Hugs, and the whispers that can only be expressed during a hug. "Every time I see you within a day, you will start crying, my dear brother."
Magnus felt the warmth on his left cheek, and the cold and dryness on his right cheek The blood stains are different from the wet water stains. He was grateful that Perturabo had pulled him close so that the two of them did not have to look directly into each other's faces and could express the soft truth beneath their respective shells.
"I'm sorry, Perturabo," Magnus said, wrapping his arms tightly around Perturabo. "This is all Prospero can give you. Everything is dust."
Perturabo patted Magnus on the back, "You have not lost your precious life. This is the best greeting gift, Magnus. Although I do hope that you can be more... intact." "
"Seeing you again is the best gift you can give me, Perturabo."
Perturabo then let go of him and tried to avoid looking at him. Resting on Magnus' missing right eye. The two of them looked at the mutilated earth under the golden tower.
“We can rebuild all of this.” Perturabo said, “You draw the map and re-determine how the glory of the City of Light will return. My army and I are responsible for implementing your plan. Planning. Although it sounds strange, when it comes to completing the city construction, especially the stone carving, they are as enthusiastic as participating in frontline gangs. If you have time, I can make a prosthetic eye for you.”
"Oh," Magnus laughed and pointed to his empty eye sockets, "I did not use it for an irrevocable sacrifice, it was just a one-time payment for the energy entity to cast the spell...that is, from In terms of ritual significance and spiritual integrity, I did not lose my right eye permanently. Well... that is to say, as long as reasonable and effective medical treatment is provided, non-material energy is replenished, and combined with our resilience that is difficult to explain scientifically, I can actually grow another eye."
Perturabo was silent for a moment and said stiffly: "That's good, you can grow it yourself."
"Waiting for you to stop talking to each other." Morse walked out from behind the collapsed wall, "Is my poor little body so imperceptible, my two dear giants?"
Facing Perturabo gave him what could be called a "why didn't you remind me" look, and Magnus managed to imitate his usual innocent smile.
——
"I'm tired of hearing them show off their brotherhood." Morse stood next to Amon, leaning on the other side of the half-broken fig trunk.
The upper part of the fig tree was cut off by the claws of the Devouring Bee, and is currently sinking in the pond, announcing their misfortune together with the ruined duckweeds.
He turned his head and caught a glimpse of Amon's hair with his peripheral vision: "Can you imagine, a big red man who stood upright and was tall enough to hold up two of me was actually crying there, even a child? I don’t think it’s cute even if you shed tears.” “You look familiar, sir,” Amon said. This scholar who has been busy treating patients for days looks a little haggard. In fact, everyone in the city is exhausted. All. One moment he was sleeping, and the next moment he was hit in the face by a Soul Eater Bee. He tried to escape in panic, and the next moment he found that everything around him was burned down. This was definitely not something that ordinary minds in Tizka could bear. stimulation.
Perhaps the only thing that can comfort them is that those who still have clothes on when sleeping will not sit naked in the ruins of their houses in despair, praying that the iron-gray giants passing by will not pay attention. to their neglected and unsightly bodies.
"I did see you," said Morse, "in the time before Magnus paused."
"And in the prophecy I saw," said Amon, "the wolf pack Destroy Tizca. You stood in the brown oil and fire, laughing at Prospero as you now laugh at my words."
"I did not laugh at you." Morse rubbed his face. "You can think of it as my fixed expression. It's really not easy to change it."
Amon nodded calmly: "But there are many deviations between the facts and the predictions. I'm not sure. Is it caused by the incomplete mapping of images and objects? "
"For example, there are no wolves?"
"There is no fire either."
"Then let it be," Morse said. "Thanks to an adventure in the past two days, I have read at least nine hundred and ninety-nine new prophecies. Obviously they cannot all be fulfilled. Will you follow Magnus back to Terra?"
"I will go to Terra."
"See you later, Scholar. "Morse said, "I'm waiting to see you in the Fifteenth Legion."
Amon smiled gently. Morse turned and left.
Neither of them mentioned that the prophecy is completely different from the real scene. Apart from the fact that the prophecy is just an image, there is another interpretation, that is, the prophecy has not actually happened yet, and the real crisis still lurks deep in the dark mist.
However, in the days of post-disaster reconstruction, no one really wants to talk about this fruitless topic.
——
In a distant corner of the vast Milky Way, someone was bending over. His mortal hands, whose skin had been chapped by the sun all year round, reached into the sand and groped for the outline of a wooden box. .
Confused, he took out the wooden box, brushed off the sand and dust, and opened the dark wooden lid that had endured for many years.
A mysterious ancient book written in an unknown language is placed intact in the box. Maybe it has been waiting here for thousands of years, or maybe it just appeared yesterday.
The flock of birds circling in the sky gradually faded away. After the mortals took out the ancient books, those strange birds that had been spinning around for days seemed to be suddenly satisfied and finally left forever together with their sharp chirps.
(End of this chapter)