Chapter 127 The quarrel time of the Primarchs
"This is a tough question, Dorn." Perturabo answered, choosing his words carefully to give himself time to think.
"You are the first person to ask me this. If Morse were here, the first question he would ask would be how to define what you call 'father's rights and responsibilities.'"
< br>"Quality education, and the transmission of emotions." Donne said, "In Inwit, I did not have a father, but a mortal grandfather. By observing the family existence of other mortals, I think I have a better understanding of the word 'father' The understanding of father is relatively consistent with the definition of father under normal circumstances."
"He has indeed changed my character," Perturabo said with some inexplicable bitterness in his mouth. This is the sweetness and bitterness of the memory. "Otherwise, according to my original temper, the first question when we met would be enough for me to knock you into the wall."
"I don't think the walls of the Phalanx are strong enough to..."
"Stop."
Dorn shut up.
Perturabo continued: "As for emotions, he has emphasized to me many times that emotions need to be declared verbally to achieve final characterization. But this does not mean that emotions remain hidden. There are things I can't deny. "So?" Don asked.
He actually heard Perturabo's emphasis on the last two sentences.
After talking to Perturabo for three-quarters of the day and night, he had become familiar with Perturabo's sometimes sudden and obscure language habits, but Rogal Dorn still liked to start from Get answers without misunderstandings in more direct affirmations.
“Dorne,” Perturabo sighed through his teeth, “are you some damn automaton that I have to enter true or false to understand the meaning of the words? "
"I'm not." Dorn's tone was as calm as ever, which was a bit unusual. Perturabo knew that even Dorn would not react at all after encountering obvious ridicule. . "I understand what you mean, and you answered in the affirmative."
"What do you want to say?"
Donn's hands, which were naturally folded on his legs, changed their positions.
He knew that the question that was about to come from his throat would not please Perturabo, but he felt that his question was necessary, so he spoke.
"This is dangerous, Perturabo," Dorn called his brother by name. "He has too much influence over you."
Perturabo For a moment, it was hard to believe his ears: "What are you talking about?"
"Look, Perturabo." Dorn said, "Your reaction just verified what I said. Even if he is not present , you are still extremely sensitive to events related to him. In the twenty hours you have been with me, this is the second time you have shown symptoms of uncontrollable emotions.”
He thought for a while and added: "The first time was when I mentioned your legion."
"You'd better give me an explanation, Rogal Dorn." Perturabo's voice was completely It got colder. "Are you deliberately provoking me?"
"This is not my intention." Dorn said, putting his hands on the table during Perturabo's questioning, instinctively strengthening his persuasion force. The details of these adjustments seemed to be etched in his genes.
“I never want to have a conversation with an angry person, I just ask the questions honestly.”
“The only thing you ask is to provoke.”
"No." Dorn did not shake his head. He looked at Perturabo with very focused eyes, as if his heart was clearly visible behind his irises.
"You can't fail to realize that your emotions can be easily affected by him. This is a serious weakness. It becomes more serious when he is present." "Roger Do Well! Are you the kind of person who thinks that emotions are a weakness for warriors..." Perturabo almost used a variant of Ur-Phoenician commonly used in Olympia. The only reason why he didn't use it was that Dorn couldn't understand it." That kind of stubborn and stupid person? "
"No." Donn said, "You are always paying attention to his movements, which is unreasonable for your personal will. Weakened. You are a complete piece of steel, but letting him influence your every move is undoubtedly a very dangerous phenomenon. "
Perturabo. He felt a throbbing pain on his forehead, and his breathing was becoming heavier. More heat in the tent was burning his face, and he felt that his face was getting red.
"You'd better take your words back, Rogal Dorn," Perturabo said.
"If I take back what I said, we will have continued conflicts and differences on today's issues. I don't want to be like this with you, which will have a negative impact on our future joint work and normal communication..."< br>
"He did not control me!" Perturabo growled, the iron surface of the armor pressed against his skin, trying to calm him down, "This is the fact, do you understand?"
Donne looked at him, and the everlasting determination and coldness on his clear-cut face now added a hateful meaning.
Then Dorn shook his head firmly: "You are losing your mind. This is not like you. We must repair the existing cracks between us and solve your problems through discussion and negotiation..."
Perturabo punched the edge of the wooden table.
Without Morse's secret repair, the stressed tabletop immediately cracked with countless forked lightning-like vertical lines. The next moment, the cracks collapsed from between the lines, and the broken wood pieces and lifted up The debris and dust first bounced up and then fell to the ground.
The fragmentation quickly extended to half of the tabletop, countless wooden structures were destroyed, one of the table legs on Perturabo's side was broken, the tabletop tilted, and the drawings on the table began to slide.
Dorn pulled the edge of the table to steady the pile of drawings that the two of them had just sorted. His eyes did not leave Perturabo: "You have lost your self-control, brother."
"Damn, you also have relatives!" The edge of Perturabo's armor hooked when he stood up. Turned over the chair. "Don't you have feelings? Have you never relied on your grandfather?"
"This is different." Donne replied, "First of all, my grandfather is dead. Secondly, I do not treat my relatives with a special attitude like you and dare not admit it. Finally, I have feelings..."
"What the hell is different? Why do you question my family ties?" Perturabo stepped next to Dorn, and Dorn, who was sitting, raised his head to look at him.
"My grandfather was a mortal," said Dorn, ignoring the hand that had to stretch to hold the table, and the irritating, incomprehensible look in his eyes towards Perturabo He looked as calm as ever, "a human being."
"Isn't Morse?" Perturabo's words blurted out, "Only your relatives are human beings?"
Some confusion finally appeared in the arc of Dorn's facial features. He recalled the conversation when he and Morse first met to confirm that he remembered it correctly.
"I'm sure he's not human," Dorn said. "I can tell he's not, and he admits it himself, and you agree with him. I don't think the Imperium would allow a Primarch to develop a bond with an inhuman creature. What's more, such a serious dependence is the root of all problems..."
"Then what do you think he is?" Perturabo's tone became emotionless, like a man hiding a trap. The hollow, or the last edge of the cliff. His armor buzzed.
"An alien that mimics human form." Dorn said.
Perturabo punched Dorn against the wall.
(End of this chapter)