Chapter 451 Conversation
“We haven’t talked like this for a long time, father...”
“I had no time to pay attention to you,” the emperor said calmly, “I am pleased that you Everyone is performing well."
His dark skin is darker under the moon, which in turn is highlighted by the gold thread on the 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, walking around the spiral staircase in the observatory tower, walking 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 shine at all.
This reminded Magnus of some things from long, long ago, when he was still young. He liked to explore the unknown and find out why they did things that others took for granted. Living within the walls of Tizca, 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 they lived The place is very narrow.
Tizca is big, beautiful inside, and the people are friendly, but the outside world is wider. Although it looks desolate, why can't we cultivate it, build houses, and let people live outside? go? 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. Come try the waves.
Then, he saw the Emperor there, bathed in colorful radiance, 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 the Emperor, walking like the Emperor in the world of warp, as if 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 undulates and flutters like a blood-stained ocean, and a gorgeous bronze pistol is fixed at his waist. Sometimes he holds a long sword with flowing brilliance in his hand - for For Magnus, who grew up among scholars, he felt that 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 reluctantly.
Magnus followed the Emperor, where all the waves were as steady 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.
Times passed and the wind and rain changed. They hurriedly communicated, issued or accepted tasks, keeping the entire galaxy running normally 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.
But 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 , nearly two hundred years have passed.
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 The Warmaster was crowned... 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 racked his brains and said, "Well, we have basically repaired the network tunnel. I think it will meet your requirements. Perturabo is looking for our lost brother, Holland. Russ - how is Horus?"
"He is still sleeping, but he will be fine," the Emperor said, looking outside the tower. "I heard you were looking at the architectural drawings?"
Not far away stood a tall marble white tower, which was the Tower of Astartes that they used to swear an oath 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 or meaning. Something... did you know the 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, "you have any thoughts on the drawings themselves?"
"Half of them are very rigid, more general than Perturabo's designs. Major theaters all pursue templates - except that he likes to use crystals, which is out of touch with the characteristics of templates. The other part 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 base to support the sky-high platform above, which is unreasonable in terms of structural mechanics. Such a design has obvious flaws in balance, and any disturbance in the local balance may lead to 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 neglected the actual stability of the structure..."
"Did I say too much?" He suddenly stopped talking, because the king who was supposed to be unsmiling kept looking at him. His expression was neither happy nor sad, just a distant suddenness, like the stars in the sky. Like light falling down.
"No, you make a good point," the Emperor replied candidly, glancing at the seat next to Magnus.
Magnus had long realized that that was where Horus used to be. After all, the cushions were piled up in a mess, like a small nest, with books and quills buried in them, and even a Ceramic plate. He smiled slightly at that. "But," he said, "Father, why did you suddenly bring me here today?"
"Because you are the only one who happens to be on Terra." The Emperor said.
His gaze made Magnus feel so strange. He looked at him as if he were seeing him again, completely giving up the past, just like when they first met in the spiritual world. A kind of sizing is the same as scrutinizing.
"I cannot bring Horus, he is still recuperating."
He paused, "Time is running out until the end, Magnus."
" So—" Magnus murmured. What would the other sociable Primarchs say if they were here? This was too difficult for him, just like if Perturabo were here, he would definitely be able to analyze the emperor's psychology clearly.
"Then after we lock the Tyrant Star on the Golden Throne, shall 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 you can't celebrate before things succeed, otherwise...oh, we will definitely succeed." Magnus immediately changed his mind. "Your suggestion is good," the Emperor's eyes were still on Magnus, "Before that, I would like to talk to each of you. Our expedition begins in the Tower of Astartes, why not Just let it end here."
"Talk like you and me?"
"Talk like we do."
Don't know. Why, Magnus was a little excited, "Including all of us?"
"I hope so."
"Then-"
"Yes, I would like to include Eleven if possible." said the Emperor, without Magnus having to hesitate. As soon as he opened his mouth, he answered the question, "Some things have changed, and some plans have been replaced by new plans, but they left too early to understand."
"What? "Things?"
"There is no need to mention it again." The emperor said, "Just like you, I always thought that a tower of Babel was too slender to withstand the collapse of the entire sky. ”
——
“You must have heard wrongly,” said Lorgar Aurelion, speaking seriously to Rivka, “or you may have been deluded by something that should be removed, or you may have been inspired by fragments of information. So many mistakes were made without knowing the complete situation."
"No, Aurelion," Rifka raised his head sadly, "I really heard you. , and I am still listening, and I can hear a few words from time to time, the sound of their discussion, right next to my ears..."
"Praise the Emperor" Luojia whispered harshly, his purple eyes tightened. Staring at mortals.
The mortal was a little frightened, and then he quickly and sincerely put his hands together: "Praise the Emperor, my only true god."
Luo Jia's attitude quietly softened. Now that we know that Rivka is still loyal, everything is easy to say.
“What else did you hear, sister?”
“I heard that they went to a small town...” Rivka said, Lorga took off the wreath on her head and handed it to her, Give her peace of mind.
The melodious sound of wind music came from the other end of the street, like petals flying down from the eaves.
The tone of the female believer gradually became ethereal: "I heard them arrive at their destination and walk into the house, 'It's empty here, she took everything away,' 'No, she The traces of their lives were ruined when they left, and I can no longer detect the remaining psychic energy...' The latter part is inaudible, Aurelion, and they continue to walk through the house, looking for what they need..."
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Aurelion's expression is peaceful. Just from the appearance, others can't even be sure whether he is listening. Through his eyes, what a mortal sees will be the shape of his own soul, slightly distorted by the light and shadow and the curvature of his eyeballs. Incompletely refracted.
He whispered to the clerk who had followed him here, ensuring that his whisper would not disturb Rivka's listening and relaying. Today was supposed to be an annual celebration day in Asime. The Word Bearer had just arrived. He wanted his priest to take a look at the custom of presenting gifts to the emperor here before making the next decision.
"...Looking at the layout, I think it is...locked - you know I have no morals...Is this the room where No. 11 lives?" Rivka relayed intermittently, his eyes calmly After closing it, her expression became calmer, as if a hand had brushed across her face, causing the ravines of suffering in her life to be filled with a slight soft light.
Luojia was immediately attracted to his attention.
He remembered Number Eleven, the madman who had deceived him, harmed 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 brought by a convoy of floats. The strings were plucked, and the music was like flying flowers. Bursts of laughter followed the gold leaves entwined outside the chapel and penetrated the wall. The gap comes in.
"No. 11 left a clue... This shouldn't be the case. How could he take the initiative to leave traces - no... because Erda is not here? He... maybe the Tyrant Planet cannot be exempted from the Emperor's control. ..."
Luojia was stunned for a moment. After receiving this message, he blurted it out almost subconsciously.
"Rivka, stop it," he said, even though he still maintained a soft and comforting tone, "don't put it into words, if He wants you to remember it, you will remember it after today I will still remember the voice you heard, don’t be in front of me again..."
He suddenly fell silent, realizing that his fear had caused him to say something inappropriate. This piece of information made him panic in his heart. When he heard the names Tyrant and Emperor juxtaposed, a chill rolled through his cerebral cortex. Not because they were unrelated, but because Lorgar Aurelion couldn't help but think they were.
He just lacks one piece of evidence...
On the other hand, Lorgar was thinking randomly and hurriedly, and No. 11 left a clue for 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, as the new Warmaster took his hand. "He stole the blade from my hand and wounded my nearest and dearest."
But Lorgar still remembered how Perturabo stopped him from exterminating Interrex, and a twinge of pain shot through both of his hearts.
He always had a vague conjecture, but he treated it with caution, hoping that the missing evidence would never be filled in. Father, forgive him for his cowardice in not opening his eyes.
Rifka suddenly recovered from his dissociated state, lowered his head, and blushed with embarrassment. "Aurelion, I'm sorry, may peace be within you and me who belong to Him..."
"It doesn't matter," Lorgar said, "We will sort out your enlightenment tomorrow and listen to His voice, Or find the devil in it. So, come with us to the festival, Rivka, we heard that you seek rebirth at the ceremony."
"Yes," Rivka laughed. "You must come and see. We dedicate the Winter Ceremony to the Emperor and the Summer Ceremony to the Black Star. Now is the summer season."
(End of Chapter)