Chapter 269 Immortality
Mechanical Perturabo thought again and again and tried to connect the cable on his head to the interface of Vulkan's Fireforge.
When the data flow was successfully connected to Perturabo's brain after several lags, Perturabo breathed a sigh of relief, closed his eyes, and began to adapt to the data model and data used here. transport protocol.
Fortunately, the Fireforge's Thinker array structure is not completely different from the initial settings of the Glory Queen-class battleship when it first appeared: obviously, Vulkan was not determined to continue to Iteratively upgrade the data structure inside the ship, otherwise, he cannot guarantee that he can connect to it without loss.
This is why he chose to borrow Vulkan's ship instead of Ferrus Manus's ship.
When he and Morse borrowed Konrad Curze's perspective and saw the smell of engine oil and hot clouds inside the Iron Fist, and heard the ubiquitous sound of forging, he knew about the Primarch of the Iron Hand. , he has definitely carried out countless personalized private designs and strict data protection on his ships.
He moved his fingers, picked up the forging hammer that Volgan kindly borrowed, and held it in his hand to feel the weight. At the same time, he used a cable to drive the forge to start operating, while looking at the walls and shelves of the forging room. Hanging weapons and armor.
Exquisite and simple, heavy and practical, and many of them are just hand-forged without using too much technology.
In terms of pure forging, Perturabo had to admit that he was ashamed of himself.
He sighed softly, turned around, and carefully fished out the raw materials sealed in the obsidian square box from the dense material. He had never used this raw material and was not familiar with its actual properties. He only made some rough calculations based on data.
In a sense, this forging was also a challenge for him.
Someone patted his mechanical leg.
Perturabo's mind was running rapidly, and after an instant, he turned around carefully and lowered his head.
Mortal Fas raised his head and took back his hand.
+You haven’t changed much. +he said.
"In my subjective consciousness, time has only been a month." Perturabo avoided some surrounding objects and tried to find a space that allowed him to squat.
Fas took the initiative to stand on a high table to facilitate the conversation.
+What are you doing? +he asked.
"I..." Perturabo looked at the surrounding environment, "I want to make use of my previous gains, Fath."
Fath nodded slightly, and a pure The blue lightning gathered and pulsed in his palm. He threw the lightning and struck it into the raw materials prepared by Perturabo.
The ripples of the electric arc spread rapidly on the surface of the material, and the storm-like silver light outlines the flickering border. The midnight blue electric light is engraved on the inside and outside of the material, flowing gracefully.
"Thank you for your help." Perturabo said immediately. No matter what changes the Emperor made to this material, it was undoubtedly an extremely valuable gift.
+No problem. +he said. +Where is he? +
“You didn’t see him?” Perturabo frowned, “I thought during the duel between Conrad and Vulcan…”
+ He whispered. There was no trace of him. +
"I'm here." There was a fluctuation in the air, and Morse's black robe came out of the shadows. "What's the matter, Emperor?"
+Let's talk. +The emperor said, and the figure turned into mist and escaped into the vast void outside the ship.
Morse snorted. "Mortal." He whispered, turning into a shadow as well.
Morse and the Emperor stood unprotected in the cosmic environment, looking at the beauty of the three glorious Queen-class battleships with different styles: the Emperor's Pride, the Forged of Fire, and the Iron Fist. And the huge figure is revealed in front of us, while thousands of ships of various types in the expedition fleet are dispersed in an orderly manner, filling the gaps in the universe.
"It's quiet," Morse said. In an environment lacking air, his voice still reached the emperor's ears through some form, but all the noise and subtle noises were eliminated, leaving only the pure language itself.
This intensifies a different kind of silence.
"Yes." The emperor looked far into the distance, taking in a panoramic view of the empire's expedition fleet and the dots of stars behind the fleet. "What do you remember about Moro?"
"A terrible opening, Emperor." Morse said, "I think that's my answer."
Emperor Nodding silently, Morse then asked: "I also have a question."
He stretched his hand into the void, pulled out a book from the flowing ether current, and stroked the spine to maintain the stability of the entire book. The living spine, full of life and vitality, presented it to the Emperor's eyes.
A hazy golden light shone in the emperor's dark eyes. "It," he said, "is an unexpected surprise."
Nonetheless, he did not reach out to take it. As expected, Morse took back the album, folded his hands on his chest, and put the album into his arms.
“At your suggestion, Erda drew the map of Purgatory.” Morse said, tilting his head, “Then she discovered something, which prompted her to throw the album into the void. , until it went round and round, conveyed by the Laughing God of the Eldar, and fell into the hands of Perturabo and I."
"Although she..." He omitted some words, " But it still makes me very curious about what she discovered or misunderstood. ”
"Same thing," the Emperor replied, holding out his left hand to Morse. Morse looked at him in disbelief for a while, then patted the map of Purgatory into his palm.
"What is the same thing?"
"Your problem, and my problem." The emperor took the album and flipped through it casually. Under his rough-skinned fingers, the pliable pages followed his will, offering him a piece of the secret of the webway serpent that traveled across the world. Soon after, he closed the book with some emotion in his expression.
"They are the same thing." Morse asked.
“Plans.” The Emperor replied. “Plans will always go wrong. So we must anticipate the failure of plans and then find ways to fill the holes. Over and over again, let plans and plans nest within each other until Reaching the end of human power, leaving the rest of the fate to adapt to the opportunity.”
He turned around and faced the Fireforge's forge hall. There, Perturabo had begun his work.
He was focused, unswerving, and devoted all his thoughts, all his brain branches, and his huge thinking that was enough to command an entire fleet in the smallest detail, into this creation.
"At the beginning of the plan, they were not sons." The emperor said, "Weapons, tools, weapons; even subordinates, friends, courtiers. Only they are not heirs, not relatives."
"Plans have changed." Morse whispered. "They... have become too alive."
"You should have the same experience." The Emperor glanced at him.
He continued: "Similarly, it is planned that the Webway is not just a set of roads. It has greater potential."
"You are more familiar with the Eldar, you have the final say." Maul. St shrugged, "The skill of fighting, the language of the Seers. You have shown it all."
"You, me, the Primarch, the Webway, Constantine Valdor. These are the core of the plan, Not to be harmed, not to be lost. Therefore, I owe you my thanks for retrieving my Primarch," the Emperor said, blinking softly.
"New information." Morse smiled and then hummed softly. "Should I thank you for remembering me?"
The emperor pretended not to hear these words.
"As for the outcome of the plan, Konrad Coates gave an answer. If that scene is indeed in line with my vision, then I... am satisfied with it."
"Okay, okay "No, I don't want to hear why you would be satisfied to hear you kill your son," Morse said, "and you can't tell."
"No, it's not..."
"Let's look at Perturabo," said Morse. "His work is progressing very quickly, and the prototype can be seen. A pair of sharp claws, very good, very suitable for Konrad."
"Using the fragments of Anaris of Dawn...a group has passed the pre-production The rare star core that was processed." The emperor nodded, "I attached the lightning rune to it."
"Speaking of this, how many gifts has Perturabo—the Imperial one—given to his brothers in twenty years?"
The Emperor suddenly smiled. "Wait until you find out, Morse."
"Okay, remember not to kill yourself in the plan." Morse said as if casually, before he finished speaking, he immediately turned and walked towards the ship go.
The emperor took him a step slower and simply stayed where he was, not chasing after him.
"Nothing is immortal." He replied calmly, and the fabricated body turned into a golden breeze and dissipated into the dark universe.
(End of this chapter)