When conditions allowed, the Primarch of the Fourth Legion was actually a talkative person, but he would never admit it.
Perturabo's mind is like a seemingly dead active volcano: it is composed of numbers, angles, statistics and percentages, paired with furious magma, and then blocked with arrogance, forbearance and the pursuit of beauty, in order to reach the point of crumbling.
, a precarious balance.
This mountain of the soul seems stable and unshakable, but in fact, it only takes a few rocks at the right place, and the suppressed inner will burst out unstoppably, forming a torrent that destroys everything.
But similarly, opening this volcano does not mean that everything will be fine, because the passionate magma will eventually cool down, and by then, the Lord of Steel's thoughts will hide back in the silent volcano, as if nothing ever happened.
Therefore, the opportunity is short-lived, just like an eagle flying across the sky, fleeting.
——————
"Those who have experienced it?"
【Because art without protection and defense is one of the most fragile things in the world.】
Perturabo felt a sense of loss. In the calm and coherent speech just now, he only felt like a narrator evaluating his days on Olympia.
She answered.
【Why is there a city wall?】
Therefore, when Magnus asked his sons, he would naturally get an excellent option that people could not refuse.
And when the same image is created, even Magnus will not doubt anything.
[I come from the southern part of the Maelstrom. Before I joined the fleet of the Thousand Sons Legion, I was a princess in my hometown, a guy known for his inhuman genius. 】
——————
He watched her close her eyes and slowly revealed her deepest secret.
[I know what a better future is, I know how we want to move forward, I know that compared to the so-called celebrations and bread, holiness and tradition, we need a more pragmatic attitude, need to endure more difficultly, and need to use our limited resources.
Resources should be invested in technology and people's livelihood, rather than building countless statues of gods in exchange for a song of praise from ministers or bishops that would be contrary to their wishes.】
At this moment, the communication rang, and Magnus's voice came from the other end.
In Perturabo's eyes, the mortal in front of him slowly raised his arm, took a sip of wine, then calmed down and faced his problem head-on.
After laughing for a while, Perturabo gave his unequivocal evaluation.
【……】
——————
Although they are the same original body, their personalities and essences may be very different.
Genius itself is the greatest weakness.
Hunters only have one chance.
Magnus waited a moment until he heard Perturabo's laughter over the comms.
She picked up the jug, drank the last sip, and threw away the lost part. The remaining amount was enough for her to take a sip, as if it had been calculated in advance.
"I have a little trouble here, regarding the governor... Forget it, to make a long story short, Kalena may encounter a surprise attack. Be prepared. The enemy may use air force and armored forces."
[When art was created, it was destined to be a golden age. People did not need to worry about life and disputes, because they created great art and works and imagined the possibilities of the future. 】
As if he suddenly remembered something, Magnus suddenly realized that maybe his brother was more suitable to be a referee than his son.
Morgan lowered her eyebrows, flipped open the package at her waist with her fingers, and took out a miniature silver-white wine flask, which contained the fine wine she brewed herself, using the best grains and fruits.
all the best.
"Understood."
But he is not without shortcomings. The biggest shortcomings of this Lord of Steel are his strengths:
[As someone who has personally experienced it, Your Excellency.]
——————
"..."
[He talked about his ambitions and the power of the empire to induce all the visitors to swear allegiance to him. Until finally, he finally thought of me, so he announced to everyone that I would be his heir.
He will destroy all disobedient people for him.]
Along with this answer, Perturabo also looked at his own work.
Perturabo stood in front of his workbench, and in his sight, his last data was finally sent correctly.
[But progress was ultimately too slow, and the country fell into stagnation. The peace and prosperity of the past became the capital of future generations who did not want to make progress. In the name of art, they allowed themselves to fall into enjoyment and depravity, until the barbarians
The flames of war came from the sky, the city-state collapsed, the palace fell into decay, and only the remaining works were left for future generations to sigh with emotion.]
Morgan does not like brewing, and thanks to the ruthless Supreme Being who created her, it is almost impossible for this vicious silver-haired woman to know the feeling of joy in any action.
Their superior talent shapes their abilities and determines their arrogance. When they determine something, they will firmly believe it and will never think that their judgment is wrong.
She forced herself into it and became a true master brewer for one thing only:
Her voice became slower and deeper, and Perturabo saw that her blue pupils gradually lost their focus and agility, turning into confused memories of the past.
He could hear that when the mortal in front of him said the word curse, her teeth were biting each other, as if they could crush rocks.
After a while, he heard a sigh.
Magnus is Magnus.
【Because of resentment.】
Faced with the question from the Primarch, the mortal in front of her didn't even think about it and directly vomited out her question. After blurting out these words, her pupils suddenly regained their clarity.
"So, you escaped."
The Primarch returned to his workbench, with a sullen face as he inspected the progress of his work.
"..."
Along with Morgan's voice, Perturabo's eyes also moved to his unfinished work. When the mellow aroma of wine began to linger in the secret room, the Lord of Steel actually felt a little embarrassed: He was giving
When an outsider looks at an unfinished work, is it any different from putting a failure on public display?
Seeing this scene, Perturabo couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth slightly, but then he thought of Morgan's question, so he quickly straightened the corners of his mouth again, which was a little funny for a moment.
certainly.
Perturabo breathed heavily.
Although this smile is not one of joy, it still looks sweet.
[On the second day after the arrival of the imperial fleet, he became the governor from the king. I remember that day happened to be my birthday. He held a banquet for me. It was a grand banquet. He talked endlessly in front of countless guests.
Hours long.]
The Primarch opened his mouth and spoke slowly, with a rare light about the future and ideals igniting in his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
Perturabo's superhuman perception captured this soft sigh, and he saw the silver-haired mortal couldn't help but pull the gears of the model, sighing and sighing.
——————
【Because no one understands.】
"..."
Her pupils are clear, the light of reason that can see through the essence of phenomena.
【That's not a throne, that's a curse.】
She smiled.
【In order to escape.】
Holding her own wine flask, Morgan whispered the name. It belonged to the exquisite semi-finished product in front of her, and to the great fantasy that still existed in Perturabo's mind and drawings.
Go to hell.
【And loneliness.】
[Talia clone...]
"Why?"
He could no longer tell whether he was being induced or recalling his past to empathize with this mortal.
For example, like now, when she is immersed in her own thoughts, she can't help but express her true feelings deep in her heart.
Persona.
[Curse... that is a curse, layer upon layer of curses, the throne is a curse, wisdom is a curse, even my birth may have been a curse. 】
【Because there is no way to compromise.】
"The Thalia clone... I prepared for my triumph on Holy Terra. It will be built directly opposite the residence of my genetic father, recording the story of this expedition, as well as the galaxy and its heroes.
.”
After seeing Morgan's lowered eyebrows, he finally smiled with satisfaction.
——————
Perturabo led with interest. He watched those eyes lose their composure little by little, as if they were destroying a fortress step by step. It was refreshing.
【Yes, I escaped.】
He walked to the window again and carefully observed the work of the Iron Warriors on the Steadfast Light. He watched the blue electric light flowing down from the bridge and sides like running water. He murmured in a low voice, wondering about the progress of the work.
Not satisfied.
Damn it, her pupils are awake again.
Perturabo was silent. Under his gaze, Morgan was once again immersed in the artwork in front of her. She was obviously caught in some kind of memory.
"Escape from the throne?"
"Everything went well, how about you?"
"……correct."
"Is the wall too hard for you to accept?"
Morgan closed his eyes and opened them.
"Why?"
Although he had never met Morgan, when he drank the fine wine Morgan brewed, saw the work Morgan handled, and heard the affirmation of Morgan from his close friends, the image of Morgan had already been finalized in his mind.
Well, she is the best candidate for the Legion's senior advisor.
"How did you come to this conclusion?"
"In what capacity do you feel about all this?"
At the very least, Perturabo would not believe anyone until he saw it with his own eyes, even if his heirs boasted about it. After all, he also looked down on his heirs.
——————
【Because there is nowhere to show it.】
Morgan heard Perturabo's voice, which was intermittent and genuine questioning.
[No...not even just me...even they themselves know that they know how to make society a better place, but they are just unwilling to do it. They squander scarce resources, engage in meaningless struggles, and worship
They use false gods to engrave their own conservatism and selfishness on the heads of all people, and then claim that this is the most sacred and unshakable tradition.]
The Primarch narrowed his eyes.
His thinking and rationality quickly helped him deduce an interesting fact: Although this mortal advisor from the Thousand Sons Legion has a calm personality and excellent abilities, he is not a perfect person.
Thinking of her rash remarks before, Perturabo confirmed this even more. He looked at Morgan's cyan pupils, which were full of thoughts immersed in thought.
【……why……】
[Assistant, think tank, deputy marshal, chief of staff...you can choose any title, Your Excellency.]
Perturabo is Perturabo.
[So, on the day when the empire’s fleet set sail, I convinced my elders who were spying on the throne to recommend me to board the empire’s ship. 】
Guns, steel, war, fire, watching the glorious city collapse, the thousand-year-old tower toppling, and then launching the next attack with urging and false comfort...
The speed of her speech became rapid, no longer the calmest and gentlest tone. Perturabo watched silently, watching the wine in her pot fall to the ground due to the scattering of her fingers - but she
Not even aware of it.
Go shoot down the flying eagle.
[Of course, there may be many wise men among the barbarians. They saw these works and lamented the glory and wisdom of the past, but they were only laughed at by their own kind. The most barbaric victors were proud: If there is really greatness in these works,
How could they be conquered by me?】
In the place where the sun doesn't shine, the mortal remains silent there, and Perturabo can occasionally hear her sipping her drink in a low voice.
"…………"
【My father values me on the battlefield.】
Similarly, when they see how beautifully the countless tasks Morgan has handled are completed, they will naturally think that this is a very capable, experienced and trustworthy person.
[They never understand the meaning of conquest. They take it for granted that only fire and sword can be passed down through the ages. They are stupid and crude, but they can succeed because their opponents are unable to defend their art and wisdom. ]
Close it again and open it again.
[This is a private matter, Your Excellency.]
——————
He didn't ask any more questions or speak. His eyes were fixed on Morgan. After a long time, his breath disappeared into the most remote shadow of the secret room.
——————
This only made him even more angry.
"How is my senior advisor capable?"
When the descendants of Magnus saw with their own eyes the wine brewed by this silver-haired female official and admired its sweetness, they naturally had comments such as prudentness and patience in their hearts: these qualities are exactly what makes the wine.
A must for a good wine.
"How are things going over there, Perturabo?"
[...When it is combined with theater...it does happen.]
genius.
"..."
Perturabo was silent and breathing.
Her pupils were blurry, and she was a real woman who traced her past and never lied.
"curse?"
From work to life, from battle to rest, the Thousand Sons witnessed her achievements and constantly drew their own conclusions in their hearts. They discussed and publicized their opinions about this mortal with each other. In the end, even if it was a person who had never
Thousand Sons who have met Morgan will, in the face of the descriptions of his companions and countless realities, outline a character with impeccable abilities, qualities, moral character and integrity.
[He drove my wisdom, using the so-called family affection and responsibility as the reins, and asked me to make suggestions for him, win consecutive battles, turn legions and city-states into ashes, burn down the former palaces, and erect statues to praise him...
】
The Emperor rarely smiles so... cheerfully.
Perturabo laughed.
He stared into her pupils, waiting for the final words.
Geniuses are confident. They rarely believe other people's evaluations. They are only confident in their own judgment.
【I ran away.】
"Deli."
[But despite this...you still hope that it will play a role in possible disasters?]
He seemed not to care about this problem anymore. The Primarch's eyes stayed on the ship for a while, then he slowly turned around and returned to the discussion place at a leisurely pace.