Chapter 274 Moment
This feeling is a bit strange, Petula thought.
He sat behind his desk. The screens of more than a dozen interconnected meditators on the table were shining quietly. Files and data passed through slender cables between his brain and the machine. Quick exchange.
In the torrent of these flashing characters and numbers, the patterns of the world are dismantled and reconstructed, and the reality of human cognition is redefined theoretically and presented in the genetic form in the form of secondary sorting and summary. In front of the body.
Then, a fragment of memory came to him. The images, sounds and emotions all came from a younger self.
Crazy whirling light spots and howling winds were entangled between the broken reality and the subspace. Morse lost his form and turned into a floating black cloth. Their fall spanned time and space, and the alternating realms brought about an unexpected separation.
This is the very first moment. thought Pertura. An important moment.
In front of him - a more realistic, more focused on the present, his first company commander of the engineering company was reporting on his weekly work.
Kaidomo Frix, in the project queue of reorganizing the Webway, this Terran descendant who yearns for Olympia is one of the first batch of teams to arrive at the Webway, not too many. One of the surviving Iron Warriors.
As this grand project progressed, the number of warriors killed by the exploration and development of the Webway began to exceed Perturabo's expectations; and even more of their deaths and disappearances existed in An unexpected and irreversible brief moment.
The dimensional storm brought about by a broken webway door is enough to bring about the uncontrolled collapse of an entire space. A complete individual may be decomposed and transported to a thousand lost fragments in the blink of an eye.
This is not pleasant.
Every promising warrior who is transferred from the glorious galaxy into the never-ending webway project is equivalent to experiencing one or two deaths - in the name of society The first time, and possibly the second time in a physiological sense.
Therefore, when some rumors were blown into the expeditionary army, Perturabo never denied that he personally caused the sacrifice of his heirs.
"...This is the result of this week, and the problems that need to be solved next week, father." Fricks said, his helmet was held near his waist armor, with a slight expression on his face , Perturabo realized that the warrior had noticed his distraction at that moment.
"I remember your longing for Olympia," said Perturabo.
Fricks was stunned for a moment, and his originally calm expression became tense. "Yes." The soldier answered honestly. "Do you miss it, father?"
"Some." Perturabo closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. "I don't always have time to go back, but fortunately Queen Olympia's message is always alive in my data stream. Maybe I should allow you to visit Olympia, and then bring you into this milky white road network."
Fricks saluted, "Thank you, father. But I am deeply satisfied with my current work and life. If you have any troubles, I am also willing to share your concerns."
< br>"Then watch over Angron for me and tell him not to bring wine into the greenskins, not even without alcohol, not even Fenrisian mead."
"Yes, sir." Fricks was about to leave.
"Wait a minute, Kaidomo." Perturabo leaned towards his seat and folded his hands on his legs, "Magnus mentioned that the new chief position of the Black Crow School under his command It’s been decided. Who do you think it will be?”
“Azak,” Fricks said immediately, with a smile on his unsmiling face, “I will save my blessings for him until the end of the project. That day."
"Well, go ahead." It is undeniable that he likes others to talk about the future of great achievements with certainty.
…Then the memories came. More moments followed, swarming in.
The black rain, the dim dying stars, the artillery fire lighting up Comoros from high in the sky, and Konrad Curze who was thrown to the ground by his backhand. The arrogant and panicked brother he stared at. And Morse fired the first bullet for future disputes under the control spire of the Ilmea star.
He has these moments, but he has more. Those were moments when one didn't know how many years it would be before Morse came back.
These moments are not as difficult to pass as imagined.
He has the guidance of the Emperor, the company of his brothers, and the fighting side by side of his heirs. Without the second body created by Morse, he needs to find a way to take time out on his own, advance the expedition, build the webway, and return to Olympia to do the work that the Lord of the Cluster must complete.
And Morse said it long ago.
If something happens, let them separate. He needs to be ready.
The words followed the falling snowflakes, echoed in the wind, and blew in his ears.
He cherished it, and therefore Perturabo found much for himself to do.
He looked to his left and pulled over a document. It was an invitation from Robert Guilliman, asking if he would like to go to Ultramar to visit a few of the newly reclaimed forge worlds and, of course, to see what he had to take away and what he could do for Robert added.
This is not the document he needs now.
If Robert's documents could be delivered a month earlier, he would definitely go and see what mechanical units the Mechanicus had come up with that were too wasteful to pile up in the warehouse. But he doesn't have that free time now.
He folded the files in a familiar format and placed them in a square box with patterns of golden eagles and skulls on the table. Then he stood up and searched for the box he needed in the filing cabinet behind him.
In another moment, the blood rain condensed into thick paint, and the paint rolled across the surface of the filing cabinet, like a torrent and a waterfall, like a bleeding sun, falling into the dark city below. Every stone that falls from the top of Comoros will have an endless impact on the bottom of Comoros countless miles below.
High in the sky, he and Vastor fought in the ashes burned by the scorching sun.
Morse was right behind him, watching him, maintaining a volley platform for him to fight on.
His fingertips seemed to be stained with Youdu's blood. And his feet seemed to be swaying in a golden network of runes. This network supported his weight and remained unbroken and unshaken throughout the battle.
Perturabo flicked his finger, and the fleeting memories fell like a tide. A very small amount of dust floated in the air, and the iron-gray filing cabinet shone slightly in the golden light of the palace.
Now that the craftsman is back, there’s no need to think about it anymore.
He found the correct filing cabinet, verified his identity through genetic testing, and took out the slightly yellowed letter he really needed from the cabinet.
Perturabo carefully uncovered the fire paint that had never been sealed, opened the letter, read Ur-Phoenician, the common language of Olympia, on the paper, and added a new one at the end with his pen Date, fold it again, melt the red wax, and truly seal the letter. This little gadget can finally come in handy, and all the preparations made in the past are not in vain.
"So, yes. What we said at the time, inadvertently made a certain... foreshadowing of the future, or the past compared to the present."
Perturabo Said calmly, behind him, two heavy adamantine doors closed tightly with a slight hiss.
A string of magic patterns of the Imperial Chancellor that are different from Morse's curse, the emperor's unique golden cold psychic energy, and the seal of the curse written by Magnus, are on the surface of the door. , and the pattern array that coincides with the skull pattern carefully designed by the exquisite craftsmen blends with each other to weave a tight network in the shape of a five-pointed star, completely nailing the space around the Tuchucha engine.
The three rays of light appear and flash in turn, appearing fragile in the trembling. However, if you observe them deeply in the etheric field, you will find that this trembling weakness is not actually the rune itself. Fragility is the unbearable feedback to these three levels of runes when the real space carries such majestic energy.
Morse stretched out his hand to touch the seal on the door. Magnus's power gave way to him. The light of the magic pattern softly blocked his approach, while the cold light of the Emperor almost blocked the void energy that made up his fingers. Break down back to the original runes.
He took back his hand, repaired his middle finger, and then leaned back against the damp and dripping cave wall of the passage.
"How many people?" Morse asked.
“Thirty thousand warriors,” Perturabo answered, “divided into thirty engineering companies, led by three warsmiths. This was an invisible war, and I followed it for them The title of blacksmith."
Morse waited for him to finish, his expression immersed in the soft shadows cast by the cave, but the changes in light and shadow could not block the judgment ability of a primarch.
"I'm not asking how many people are still alive," Morse said.
“Twenty thousand and sixty-one people.” Perturabo said, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breathing, and this rise and fall was hidden under the thick iron armor. “There should not have been So many, but a serious void shield rupture occurred in an important node city."
"Have you ever gone to the subspace to look for it?"
"Magnus went there. , I think he has done his best."
Morse was silent for a while, "nearly one-tenth of the total," he said. "That's why you subconsciously told me that the warsmith I accidentally asked about was still alive."
Perturabo raised his head. Above the dark tunnel of the Dripping Cave, the Terra Palace, covering hundreds of thousands of square kilometers of land, was constantly emitting sun-like brilliance under the gray sky.
The Light of the Star Torch, the Light of Terra, the Light of the Emperor.
"I didn't keep a record book." Perturabo said, "Fortunately, when the Emperor created me, he allowed my brain to record enough bytes of data."
Mo Erls lowered his head. Due to his height, when he did this, even the Primarch would not be able to see Morse's face through the barrier of the actual object.
“I don’t want to make things too heavy, Perturabo,” said Morse, “nor do I want to do too many sentimental eccentricities. But some topics cannot be buried under In the mud, waiting for it to be accidentally dug out by someone one day. Many years ago, we said so frankly. ”
"Today, you are no longer a child, or an immature individual, so I will explain some...my thoughts more directly, but only once."
"Okay." Pei Pei Turabo replied solemnly.
“In my eyes, twenty years can only be counted as a moment. Even if I spent this entire period in the real universe, I would give the same evaluation, not to mention that I can’t even do this. Not a single moment was obtained.”
“But I know that in your vision, in the eyes of an individual who has grown up and matured with human identity and concept of time, twenty years are composed of countless moments. Minutes and seconds, even days, months, years, and ten years. Although I can't understand it."
"There is something common between you and me, and you have already unexpectedd it. Pass it to me”
Morse raised his head. He still didn't have much expression. Maybe he didn't have the intention to imitate additional emotions at this time.
“Emotions.” He said, “The vast ocean of subspace is the reflection of sentient spirits, and emotions are one of the foundations of consciousness and memory. Therefore, even if I do not deliberately unlock the code of memory, I will Reading these specific moments one by one, I can also feel the essential emotions that make up this piece of information. It has never been so clear and heavy.”
"Really?" Perturabo replied, but then he was a little speechless. "Yes." He admitted silently.
This made him feel that he had shrunk again, lost years, and turned back into the child he was a long time ago. However, something was different. Morse wasn't forcing him to answer, he was just waiting for his answer.
Morse nodded, "So, although this sounds quite self-righteous - I really don't think I did anything wrong in this aspect of my life, but I think that according to common sense, I'd better Say one word to you. ”
"What do you think of this word?" he asked.
"This..." Perturabo exhaled, feeling the warm breeze as the air rolled over his teeth and passed over the tip of his nose. "It's not your fault."
Morse breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief, shrugged his shoulders, and spread his hands folded on his chest.
"Let me just say, it's not my fault. Okay, I've had enough of this moment, I guess the Emperor's side is done talking to Konrad Curze, unless they It suddenly occurred to me that I would have to have a night talk with the Emperor's golden light. I will have to go find him later."
"Also," Perturabo said. "Welcome back."
Morse pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes, "Well, I'm glad to see you too, even though you and I have never been separated. Damn it."
He stretched out his hand and gently He patted the leg of the mechanical Perturabo next to him.
"Shall we go out?" Morse asked.
"Before that, I have one more thing." Perturabo said, taking out a letter from the armor that was produced on paper at least ten years ago, but the fire paint could seal the letter for a few hours at best.
“What is this?”
"You mentioned it." Perturabo leaned down and handed the invitation to Morse, who stretched out his hand. "You said you wanted to watch the Olympia Games. So... I think the stadium I built has always been It has been used as a temporary open-air theater hall for long enough.”
(End of this chapter)