But this did not prevent him from admiring the beauty of art created by the Primarch.
While listening to the reminder from the son of Magnus to him in the telepathic communication, and feeling his unstoppable sincere admiration for the scene in front of him, Morgan couldn't help but have funny thoughts in his heart.
It is understandable that such a scene would occur. After all, Perturabo, regardless of his personality, is indeed a master of architecture and art.
Everyone knows that Invet's Dorn and his Imperial Fists are the founders of countless fortresses, but they don't know that the Iron Warriors and its Primarch are actually better at this, but their talents rarely get opportunities to express themselves.
.
Different from its rough and towering appearance, the interior of Salimavis Fortress was transformed by Perturabo into a work of art full of exquisiteness and digital style. It is like an imperial palace in ancient legends: the walls are covered with
Polished marble, dotted with black lampstands, golden textures, huge tapestries and scattered paintings, clean and orderly.
And in the gaps between these decorations, Morgan could see the hidden shooting ports and hidden whistles. They were distributed at the corners of the corridors and around the main hall, enough to turn the entire fortress into a dead cemetery in an instant.
The group of people moved forward steadily under the leadership of the original body. They soon passed through the initial front corridor, and then passed a secret room full of meditators and technical terms, which was full of busy Mechanicus personnel.
Their electronic screens flashed with messages from all over the world.
Tens of thousands of messages are undergoing screening and feedback in the calculations of these visitors from Mars. From the loading of ships to the supply of materials, the huge data is enough to easily drain any staff composed of mortals, even the Adeptus Mechanicus.
The elites can only ensure that these data will not have too serious errors. As for the more precise calculations and decisions, they can only leave them to the more mysterious and core room in the secret room.
Fussy's head almost dropped to the ground. He was as quiet as a dead corpse, and it wasn't until a while later that he answered quietly and sincerely.
"My advisors, you can also call them my trident."
"I will not let you run near the mine defense zone of the Fourth Army of this fortress without a map and proper training."
The discussion between the two Primarchs soon became fast and furious, as they quickly divided up the areas and tasks of their respective legions: the Iron Warriors would gradually take over everything regarding evacuation and construction, and the Thousand Sons would
Spread into small groups to assist them, Perturabo will be responsible for all this, while Magnus will immediately set off for a city inland, where the governor and his team are said to have appeared.
"...You think so?"
Even Magnus was surprised by his brother's brief arrogance. He walked forward quickly, looked at the giant ship carefully, and soon discovered that it was covered with dense steel:
It is the scions of Perturabo and the laborers of the Adeptus Mechanicus at work.
"You came too slowly, Magnus, we don't have extra time for you to delay now."
"But that's not the most serious thing: the population of the entire Dawn Star exceeds two million, and the fleets of you and me combined are only dozens of ships. Even if every cabin is filled, we can only
We cannot take more than 1.6 million people away, and in the remaining three months, our fleet will not be able to complete the round trip between the nearest habitable world and the Dawn Star."
"My best descendants all recognize her wisdom and ability, and I trust their judgment."
The Lord of Steel's question was low and calm, without any hint of violence, but it made Forsis lower his head involuntarily, and beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead uncontrollably.
"Our cross-orbital transport aircraft can perform approximately 200 launches per day, carrying 60 to 70,000 people off this dying world and onto our fleet. This is just an ideal situation where the ground launch center will not be disturbed, but you and me
Everyone knows how serious the panic among the people is now."
"I know, Magnus, I know."
"Why?"
As for Ahriman, Atharva and Forsis, they each have their own tasks, either leading their own teams to defend one side, or going deep into the ruins to find those things that haunt Magnus.
If every soldier of the Fourth Legion is steel who can walk and fight freely, then the Primarch of the Fourth Legion can be said to be the living embodiment of the word "steel".
"In other words, if I don't enable it, then one-fifth of the world's population will be abandoned and die in despair."
When they entered, Perturabo himself was there.
"No, Magnus, you must leave one person behind, at least an officer who can contact you directly."
Atava, who has always been known for his ruthless calculation power, sighed softly to his brother.
"[Think Tank]? I thought you had decided to give up this project. Magnus, our father and some brothers may not like this."
"You're right, brother..."
"Of course, man, I've been working so hard."
Perturabo's voice came from his ears, and what he was referring to was the huge colonial ship in the center of Kalena City. It was this ancient giant ship that carried the first batch of humans thousands of years ago.
The colonists came here and created everything that belonged to the Dawn Star, and now it stands there as a pure monument.
"I repeat, he is my senior advisor."
The Lord of Steel waved his hand, gesturing for his subordinates to continue their previous work, and he came to the west edge of the secret room, pressed the switch, and a huge window appeared from the cover. Through it, one could easily
The entire city of Kalena can be seen.
"There are many people in the world who refuse to evacuate. In those remote and barbaric mountain villages, they are not willing to obey our orders to move away from their homeland at all, even in cities. In the resettlement area of Kalena City alone, every day
There were at least hundreds of people who fled back into the wilderness privately, and Ahriman can prove all of this."
Almost at the same time, Magnus walked up with a smile and patted his brother on the shoulder.
Perturabo seemed ready to say something more about psychic powers, but his eyes were quickly attracted by the only mortal present.
"Yes, sir, I'm sorry."
Perturabo's finger pointed to his workbench, which was already filled with a large number of diagrams and sketches, some of which Magnus could recognize as data for various cross-track conveyors."
Magnus opened his mouth to say something for his foolish son, but before he could do so, Perturabo's firm and unquestionable declaration had exploded.
"We must be able to maintain communication at all times to prevent any emergencies. Don't rely so much on your psychic powers. You know, there are countless ways and accidents in this galaxy that can cause this power to suddenly fail!"
We must throw away this childish and ignorant idea and do the right thing. Now do you understand why we must do our best to save more people?”
When his last letter landed, the room fell into absolute silence, with only the sound of the two tridents constantly coming from their work.
"I have no choice, Magnus."
As a relic of the golden age, Kalena is a city that perfectly blends history and splendor. Magnus first took a second to marvel at its exquisite layout, and then his eyes were attracted to the truly important things.
Perturabo retorted fiercely to his brother.
"Such voices have also appeared among my Iron Warriors. They do not know the importance of rescuing mortals. That is why you and I need to work more closely. My brother, spur our heirs so that they can do their best.
Rescue as many people as possible."
Perturabo sighed, perhaps also tired of the quarrel, he finally nodded and allowed Magnus to lead the three heirs away quickly.
"I hope she is who you say she is."
Ahriman and Forsis did not reply, but their equally serious expressions were the best answer. None of the three of them noticed Morgan, who had a normal expression. At this time, she was looking at the numbers intently.
Magnus breathed heavily and lowered his head. He could not refute his brother: the Thousand Sons Legion came more than fifty days earlier than the Iron Warriors, but these numbers had never appeared so clearly in his mind.
Specifically, the room was a mezzanine connected by a wide staircase. From the outside, it looked like a square processing workshop, exuding a mixed smell of precious metals and industrial grease.
Morgan saw a quick flash of cunning on Perturabo's face.
"Are you really going to activate it? Trust the lives of hundreds of thousands of refugees to a... antique?"
"That's just a small team, Perturabo. I swear I won't send more people. A small team will not harm the overall situation."
"A mortal?"
With great difficulty, the Primarch of the Fourth Legion hugged his brother, and the plotting instrument he held tightly in his hand was revealed to the eyes of several senior officials of the Thousand Sons Legion. They could see that it was covered with numerous...
Data from the stars: loading rates, travel times, cargo capacity, fuel reserves, fleet rotations, population inflows, food and water supplies, airdrop arrangements and the hundreds of variables that come into play in the evacuation equation.
"It is already a relic, Perturabo, a pure antique."
"This is Haka, the other is Barben Falk, and Fricks is in charge of the command outside."
"Atharva and Forsis, my senior think tank."
"A smart, hard-working and capable mortal. You know, Perturabo, I will not turn down any capable wise man."
The Thousand Sons Think Tank handed Perturabo the thick document he had in hand, which was a report on the evacuations of people around the world by Hathor and others.
"Forsyth is a master of data processing. He is better at arbitrating issues consisting of experience and absolute views of right and wrong, rather than philosophical and moral debates."
"There were so many of them... it made me dizzy... they were like a wave that overwhelmed me."
"Okay, Perturabo."
"Then I can only hope that you will be careful enough... hmm?"
As soon as Magnus finished speaking, the silver-haired female officer could detect the gaze from Forsis, which was some kind of hostility mixed with surprise.
"The Steadfast Light, I am ready to reactivate it."
After a brief exchange of greetings, Perturabo pointed to the only two Iron Warriors behind him.
"Then, I hope that every warrior of Thousand Sons can devote themselves to disaster relief, just like my legion, instead of digging for ruins and ancient libraries."
"In view of this situation, I think that since these mortals who have abandoned reason and logic are not even willing to rescue themselves, why do we still need to care about them? Anyway, even if these stupid guys are rescued, it will not be beneficial to the entire empire.
By getting rid of them, our rescue plan can be launched more quickly."
Perturabo's voice echoed repeatedly in the secret room like thunder, and Magnus just spread his hands as if begging for mercy in return for his brother.
"We don't need to take such a risk, my lords."
"A mortal?"
The discussion between the Primarch brothers progressed rapidly in an increasingly friendly atmosphere, until the final question arose.
The Lord of Steel's repeated words left Magnus speechless, or maybe he just simply didn't want to continue arguing. The Thousand Sons' Primarch looked around and pulled Morgan to his side.
around.
"This is Morgan, Ms. Morgan, my senior adviser to the Legion and one of the candidates for the think tank."
"What role does this mortal, my brother Magnus, play in your legion?"
"Have you tested her yourself?"
Just as Magnus's deep voice began to echo, perhaps in order to relieve his father's embarrassment, or perhaps simply because he thought so, Forsis from the Thousand Sons Legion took a step forward and signaled that he wanted to speak.
"At least Sanguinius and Jaghatai support me."
Perturabo leaned on his conference table, his eyes blazing, avoiding his brother and a few others, all focused on Forsis. The expression of the original gene was like that of a disappointed teacher.
Students who look at themselves as uneducated and incompetent.
In almost a breath, Morgan blinked and turned his attention elsewhere.
Every piece of protection on Perturabo's body, every chain and even every screw was made by him, making him look like a rock sculpture with a human face. He is shorter than his brothers.
A few above, but still a giant enough for the Astartes to look up to. The hard features carved by axes pieced together the entire appearance of a great monster hunter, a ruthless victorious general and a god-given master of art.
.
Forsis first stated his argument, and after receiving Ahriman's silent nod, he slowly stated his plan.
"No matter how bright the flowers are, I will not let a young child run to the edge of a cliff to pick flowers without stopping him."
"Ahriman, my right hand, captain of the legions."
"listen!"
"Those numbers..."
"The senior officer you want, my brother."
Ahriman was the last to leave, and as he passed Morgan, he stuffed something secretly.
It wasn't until the sound of their footsteps disappeared that Perturabo slowly lowered his head. He casually glanced at Morgan in front of him and walked back to his workbench.