Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"Leave this palace. This city, this kingdom." Morse added a joke at the end of his words, "But not leaving this planet."

Perturabo forced himself to calm down: "Are you threatening me?"

"What is threatening you with my departure? Can this actually pose a threat to you?"

"This can't be done!"

"Then how did I coerce you? Am I going to harm your body or soul? Am I going to take something from you that you can't give? Or do you have other reasons?"

Morse knowingly distorted Perturabo's true meaning, and all of the boy's reactions fell within the scope of his inferences.

Perturabo looked away, more dazed than angry.

He was not stupid; in fact, thanks to the genius of his Creator, Perturabo understood and analyzed things faster than nearly all of the human race.

What held him back was the particularly childish part of his character.

"Morse, you are trying to hurt me. You are clearly not leaving. You have brought your stone carvings, your tools, and you are staying in Lokos."

He said, and swallowed the second half of the sentence painfully, asking what kind of result Morse was waiting for.

"Come here, Perturabo." Morse spoke, no longer with his usual carelessness, but with a strange solemnity and solemnity, which did not make him appear unapproachable, but increased his mild.

Perturabo's feet were stuck to the ground, but then this inseparable state was released, and he opened his legs with a determination and compromise that could not be simulated by the most exquisite machine.

very good. Morse thought to himself. Then I will stay.

He saw a smiling man reflected in Perturabo's eyes.

"I'm hurting you. I'm looking for every flaw in your mind, and you and I both know that."

Morse stopped what he was doing and placed his right hand, palm up, within Perturabo's reach. The boy placed his hand on it, as if bewitched; and Morse knew he was not using any supernatural means—and that was what fascinated him.

"But not this time, not exactly. I do have plans to leave Lokos. You can see that everything Lokos can give me is of no value to me, even if Damex walks into the room and kneels now. I would not be happy at all if he gave way to someone more worthy."

Perturabo left for ten seconds, dragging his seat over to find some equality through equal heights.

The boy sat face to face with him, his back still straight. Morse waited for him for a moment, then continued his narrative.

Morse spoke frankly: "I am a person with extraordinary talents, but my wisdom and knowledge do not exceed the best era of mankind. However, amidst the waves of the retreat of the times, I am already ahead of the world just by standing where I am. ”

"I don't deny my abilities, nor yours. You should be able to understand that when you stand taller than everyone else, and much taller, then other people's retentions and expectations no longer mean anything to you. It was just recognition and trust, but it became more of a responsibility and even a drag.”

"If you want to shed tears for them, you must go down from the top of your mountain. There is no shortage of tragic examples in the long history of mankind."

Some harsh and frivolous words floated from his lips, and Perturabo's eyes flickered slightly. Morse knew that the boy had listened and was thinking.

This is good, even if Perturabo is temporarily willing to listen to him, it is only because he, Morse, is stronger, more perfect, and more mysterious, creating an illusion in Perturabo's mind that submitting to him is not unacceptable. .

One day, Perturabo's supreme creator will come, and Morse is sure that he will immediately become the only person to serve Perturabo wholeheartedly. The boys of today and the men of the future will quickly put this "full of shame" into perspective. The past is forgotten, even erased with a vengeance.

But he's listening now.

Morse needed nothing more.

"Are you one of the Exemplars?" asked Perturabo.

"Never. I have always been unknown and unknown. I am just a pawn and always insignificant."

The example he gave is actually an inference of another person, and this need not be mentioned. He was no longer relevant to him, and Perturabo had nothing to do with him after all - Morse told himself.

Perturabo fell silent, confused. Then he shook his head and threw the distracting thoughts out of his mind.

"Is it my changes that make you stay?" His voice was lowered, and the change in his voice made him look a bit like an adult.

"You asked me to confess frankly, save time, and put everything into words, and now you are the one who has created a lot of confusion in my words."

Saying these words made him uneasy, and Perturabo realized that he was stepping into a brand new field. Mors forced him to reflect on himself again and again, using his cold power to force him to go back to the depths of his soul. To examine everything in the outside world and the shell of his own thinking, he finally saw a flaw, a clue.

He felt that something was wrong, something that could be known without knowledge - it seemed to be part of common sense. After escaping the blindness of knowledge and identity, it still served as a priori knowledge as part of the basis of human rationality, and he was familiar with it. He has turned a blind eye for a long time.

He glanced out the window and saw that the vortex of stars had disappeared without a trace.

Only now did he realize that the source of his fear had disappeared from the beginning, and Morse had helped him so profoundly—only then did he dare to admit how afraid he had been of the eyes of the stars.

"You are the first person I have ever met since I can remember." Perturabo didn't know what he was talking about. He was just expressing some words and some emotions. He almost felt that he was weird and unreasonable when he spoke like this.

He looked straight at Morse, staring into his calm and cold appearance, like looking into a steel mirror. He spoke to him and to himself at the same time.

Morse waited for him patiently.

He felt nervous and afraid, and then all the emotional membranes were dug out of the leaky holes. A gurgling, clean thing surged out from the source of his soul, filling the holes and washing away the panic. He looked for the right words, feeling that maybe it should be Defined as peace of mind.

"From the beginning you talked to me about fairness and trade. All taking and giving must be put on the table. I put out the chips and you took the goods and put a price on everything. We calculated the price clearly, just like except Otherwise you cannot understand me and I cannot understand you.”

"But the truth is far from this. At least you have been able to skillfully manipulate my psychology. This is not a normal thing. You and I both know that humans cannot survive just by trading."

"What do you want from me? Morse, your attitude sometimes makes me confused by your tolerance, and sometimes I think you hate me."

Perturabo admitted everything he had to admit. These words were full of barbs, and every word made his throat and mouth ache as if they were bleeding. However, facing an eternally cold steel mirror, his pain Easily frozen and smoothed.

He did not imagine that if another person were here, he would be able to speak like this. Damex? Miltiades? Unknown courtiers and priests?

He made no assumptions, for the fact was that the man here was named Morse.

Under his gaze, unable to detect even the slightest wavering, Morse was as unfathomable as he was every moment, if not more elusive. And he has confessed so much. Perturabo gritted his teeth and asked, "Do you hate me?"

Morse lowered his eyes. "Remember what I said before?"

Then he smiled. "'Your Creator has not finished his work. Perturabo, you are not a qualified tool. And what should a qualified craftsman do with steel that has failed to be forged? I choose to melt it back into molten iron, quench, beat, and cool , in a cycle. '"

"Of course I don't hate you, I'm just taking over the work of your creator. I can't bear the thought of a piece of excellent material being dusted, Perturabo, I'm just reforging you. I decided to stay for this reason. I saw that I The stay shapes you for the better.”

"So I'm a tool," Perturabo said. "So you and I talk about deals. So you and I never get close."

Morse smiled slightly. "Are you ready to establish a closer relationship?" He shook his head, "At least I'm not yet."