Author: Tide of Crows

I am not human, I am much more than that.

——Perturabo

——————

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.

——————

Hunters only have one chance.

Go shoot down the flying eagle.

——————

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.

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.

She forced herself into it and became a true master brewer for one thing only:

Persona.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

——————

certainly.

Magnus is Magnus.

Perturabo is Perturabo.

Although they are the same original body, their personalities and essences may be very different.

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.

But he is not without shortcomings. The biggest shortcomings of this Lord of Steel are his strengths:

genius.

——————

[Talia clone...]

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.

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?

【……why……】

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.

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.

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.

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.

"What's wrong?"

【Why is there a city wall?】

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.

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.

"Is the wall too hard for you to accept?"

[...When it is combined with theater...it does happen.]

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.

Along with this answer, Perturabo also looked at his own work.

"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.

.”

The Primarch opened his mouth and spoke slowly, with a rare light about the future and ideals igniting in his eyes.

[But despite this...you still hope that it will play a role in possible disasters?]

Perturabo laughed.

"How did you come to this conclusion?"

【Because art without protection and defense is one of the most fragile things in the world.】

"..."

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.

[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. 】

"..."

[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.]

"..."

Perturabo breathed heavily.

[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?】

"…………"

[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. ]

"..."

"You, in what capacity do you feel about all this?"

Morgan heard Perturabo's voice, which was intermittent and genuine questioning.

[This is a private matter, Your Excellency.]

Damn it, her pupils are awake again.

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.

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...

——————

Go to hell.

——————

The Primarch returned to his workbench, with a sullen face as he inspected the progress of his work.

all the best.

This only made him even more angry.

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.
To be continued...