Chapter 350 "How are you?"
The white-haired old man in a simple old green civil servant robe leaned his flaming golden eagle staff against the armchair and started slowly while drinking tea. Screening private agent candidates for the next trip to the world of Oksos (Note 1).
Across from him, he was posing in various positions according to his comfort, drinking coffee while diligently preprocessing for Perturabo (providing his own wetware brain computing power for processing). The body of the Demon Lord of the Iron Warriors Legion and the Fourth Primarch from the original source material, with his attendant standing beside him.
On the right side of the white-haired old man, sitting behind the central desk, is a beautiful black and white dog, with its gorgeous and thick mane surrounding his noble dog face calmly.
Perturabo is surrounded by numerous floating dataslates, servo-skulls holding them or other files - which are still heavily used due to replacement costs, interoperability and inventory issues - and other projections Surrounded by panels and input devices, people who walk in cannot see what is behind them at first glance.
This was the first scene that Priest Geratos of the Black Templar Saint’s Redemption Expedition saw when he walked in.
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Admittedly, as a person ten thousand years later, even as an Astartes monk, Geratos should not have recognized Kaduru in the first place ·Makado’s true identity.
But he now has the vision of an Emperor's Champion to get to the point and reveal what lies beneath the surface.
So of course (not of course).
When he cast his piercing gaze filled with righteous divine fury first sternly at the heretic wizard psyker who seemed to be full of evil power.
Geratos was horrified to find that not only did the old man have a bright halo, but an indescribable magical power was silently transmitting a message into the depths of his consciousness, telling Who is he? The built-in monitoring system of his power armor started to sound an alarm on his physiological index at this moment.
Because the great power given to him by the God Emperor clearly told him: This is the hero of the empire, the former regent of the empire, the prime minister of the empire, the saint of the national religion, the Alpha+ level psyker (note 2), the magic pattern Malcador .
About a day ago, they clearly pointed their fingers and weapons at Malcador's nose and cursed him as a heretical and blasphemous evil wizard.
The priest turned his gaze to the other side of the room with a feeling of suffocation, and then he met a pair of friendly ice-blue eyes.
The being on the twisted throne grinned at him.
"How are you?"
——————
"What happened to him?"
The former Imperial Regent is still in the room While leisurely taking notes and flipping through books, the busy Border Collie Primarch behind the desk had no intention of condescending to come over and take a look at the little priest.
So before their noble Primarch could move himself, the Acolyte first moved from his standing position to the unconscious priest with an agility unbecoming of a Terminator.
After some inspection.
"I think he experienced a cardiac arrest. My Lord."
"What?" Lamizane sat up half his body. "Does he have a congenital heart problem? This is not a tiger's nest. What now?"
"His power armor's built-in first aid system has injected epinephrine and started an AED. His heartbeat has begun to recover. "My lord."
"Oh." The fourth original body slowly lay down again. "Having given first aid, let the professionals take care of him quickly - send him to the Desert Ark's infirmary to observe the situation first. It is not appropriate to move the patient at this time."
"As you wish, Mercy My lord!”
————Geratos looked into those eyes.
True vision allowed him to see things that no one in this world should see.
No, no, is this still a real thing or existence?
No, no, it exists...it is not anywhere...it is everywhere...
So vast, huge, complex, and numerous...
He couldn't tell.
His soul flew forward involuntarily like a comet attracted by a star.
The soles of Geratos' feet were empty, and he fell into the long stream of time roaring in the high sky.
——————
“I know!”
Lami Zane shook his head as if he had a sudden realization, with a bundle of biological cables tied behind his head. It swayed back and forth with his movements.
"It must be because they are black beasts...the Black Templars! They are different from other war groups. They really believe in the state religion, and Geratos is the priest of the Black Templars. Oh, I am not sure about this. This type of person has no experience... It's true that he didn't take it too seriously. If he had known better, he would have called Kevin Li from the Destiny Steel to vaccinate poor Geratos first... I vaguely remember that as long as they were willing Cheng can see a lot of marks that others can't see, right? It's kind of like, um, a halo in your eyes? It tells you who is the most powerful and threatening person here, and then you have been strengthened. Go. Fight with him? This is very idealistic. No wonder they are called black orcs.”
He took a sip of hot coffee and said, "He must be frightened by such a perfect, powerful, and calm dog like you. Hey, you are so fragile. I'm starting to worry. The three monks who went on a business trip to Wandering Port are really fine." "
"Why don't you change your words? Why don't you just say the name?" The black-and-white dog snorted teasingly from his nostrils. This week's six hundred and seventy-first attempt to balance the books a bit.
And there is no refuting the statement about being perfectly powerful.
“You can’t speak too smoothly, otherwise you won’t be able to bear it anymore...”
One leg of the Fourth Primarch’s body rests on the armrest of the sofa, and one arm rests on the back of the sofa. One hand is left holding a cup of "Self-Deception" milked Reca coffee, which is sugar-free but infused with his latest caramel flavoring.
Such a salty gesture was praised by Aharin as "so elegant and leisurely, and every move you make represents the supreme nobility!"
Although the man's dog, His Royal Highness Perturabo BC, was not interested in this. The comment made by one person, which sounded very strange to others, was: "It would be a pity if you don't wear a vest, big pants, shark slippers, fan with a fan and a watermelon."
This time Angron Petra had wisely slipped away early and went to the bridge to "breathe some fresh air."
"It seems that you have indeed experienced a lot of interesting things that we have never experienced, Perturabo." The former imperial regent had a huge parchment notebook spread out on his knees, and his feathers The pen was still writing intermittently on its own, and the gold pen tip engraved with a small magic circle moved on the paper, making a rustling sound.
“Hey, little one, no one ever told me that it’s rude to record other people’s words at any time without permission?”
"Little thing? Alas, alas, you really don't even bother to use some etiquette to show your respect for the elders. Alas, who allowed you to have soft fur now? Then I ask for permission now? The noble Olympian tyrant Pei Turabo?"
"No sincerity!"
Aharin grabbed his black boots and quietly dragged the unconscious Geratos out of the office. .
(End of this chapter)