Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

After selection, discussion, and mutual ridicule with Morse, the final version of the Dornish language translator was determined by Perturabo to be a form that especially combined the characteristics of the Human Empire and the symbols of the Imperial Fists Legion-hands and skulls. .

The Lord of Iron embedded the white skull made of steel into the gilded palm of the stone carving, allowing the golden palm to hold the skull firmly. The adjusted oval gold-copper gem was embedded in the forehead of the skull, and with the shadow of the runes flashing across the surface of the skull and palms, a work that was comparable to the proportions of a mortal skull was completed.

"He's going to love it," Morse said.

"Dorn?"

"Of course. Rogal Dorn will love your gift."

Perturabo began cutting boards to make a gift box. "No," he said, half focused on his handiwork, "his aesthetic style is not enough for him to fully understand my art, and he just rejected my design for the renovation of the Rotunda three hours ago."

"He would like it because it looks golden." Morse added the reason, "and it is a gift from a brother and may have practicality. That is enough."

"Dorne better like this," Perturabo murmured.

Morse smiled and took out the processed walrus tusk from the air.

This tusk, which is about one meter long, happens to be a perfectly sized indoor ornament for the original body. It will not occupy precious limited space because it is too large, nor will it inadvertently highlight the original body because it is too small for human dimensions. Alien properties that are different from ordinary people.

He placed the walrus tusk in a random place and presented it to anyone who saw it. Most of the time, a work is discarded the moment it is completed - because the potential and possibilities in the raw materials have been lost. It is only in rare cases that I keep my works with me.

Perturabo looked at the ivory with a strange painting style and said nothing. The boards became flat under his hands, and the edges were designed into precisely measured, concave and convex squares that fit together to eliminate the need for metal spikes.

After a moment, he raised his head: "Another me saw the Emperor's shuttle appearing over Terra."

"Thanks for the reminder." Morse said, "I'll go back."

He returned to the sofa and lay down, his body shrinking smoothly and becoming as flat as paper. Just when Perturabo was about to put Morse away and find a place to put it, the body quickly returned to the form of a living person, causing Perturabo to withdraw his outstretched hand stiffly - he had intended to casually He grabbed Morse's body by one corner and lifted it up.

"There's one thing I forgot to ask." Morse raised a hand that was flat on his chest and waved, "Have you synchronized the memory of the last time Dorne was driven into the wall to Terra? of you?”

"Synchronized!" Perturabo suddenly raised his voice and looked to the side nonchalantly, "Why should I hide my experience from myself?"

"It seems that my stop checking the data packets we communicated is still valid." Morse blinked, and after a smile, he spread his face again as if the air had been sucked out. Perturabo grabbed the husk by the neck and swung the thing into the cupboard.

After he closed the cabinet door, Roger Dorn's footsteps appeared at the end of the corridor.

Perturabo quickly returned to his seat, first pushed the completed skull to the most conspicuous place on the table, then picked up the hand saw and continued cutting the wood, making a gesture of concentration without raising his head when Dorn entered the door.

"Perturabo, are you done with your work?" Dorn asked as he came in.

"You have eyes," Perturabo replied flatly.

"I saw a skull and hand combination sitting on your desk," Donne said. "You were doing carpentry. I didn't know that you considered the skull and hand combination and your carpentry as a whole. Or do you alone think that the former has been completed; so although I have eyes, I cannot accurately judge the status of your work..."

"If you don't want the box," the clang of Perturabo's hand saw interrupted Dorn, "then it's done. Take it, your translator."

"Thank you." Dorn nodded his thanks and picked up this small imitation skull product from the table with one hand. For a mortal, both hands are needed to hold the object in the palm of the original body like a toy given to a child. “Does it have its own title?”

"No, you are its owner, you name it." Perturabo said, "Your touch on the gem on its forehead can make it start or stop working."

"That's it?" Dorn's finger touched the switch.

A line of Gothic language appeared above the skull. What Rogal Dorn means is: Can this be used to activate this item?

A smile appeared on Donne's serious face. The White-haired Primarch flipped the switch again to turn it off, knowing that Perturabo did not need a medium to understand him.

"When did you leave Inwit?" he asked.

"When I finish this box," said Perturabo, "we will set sail today. Goodbye, Rogal Dorn."

"I have a question," Dorn said, "Can the Imperial Fists walk with the Iron Warriors?"

Perhaps there really wasn't much in the world that could change Dorn's unchanging calm tone, so it took Perturabo a few tenths of a second to realize what kind of request Rogal Dorn had made.

"Why?" he asked in disbelief, unable to tell whether he was overjoyed or a little annoyed. If he was both, which emotion was greater. "Invet, the Phalanx, and the removal of the greenskins, haven't the Iron Warriors done enough for you?"

"The Iron Warriors have done a lot for the Imperial Fists, and I believe it is necessary to make up for it through cooperative warfare." Rogal Dorn said that this proposal has been considered by him many times. "At the same time, in the Father of the Legion, In your triple identity as Primarch and Commander of the Great Crusade, you are a model for learning.”

"Did we have a similar conversation last time?"

"Yes, Perturabo. This was what I wanted to say the last time I came to communicate with you, but you interrupted me with the gift, and finally told me to shut up and be quiet. I didn't find the right opportunity. Finish my sentence."

Dorn stated the facts completely and calmly, and Perturabo forced the two boards together. His huge fingers completed the work they were doing with uncanny agility, and his size itself gave his movements a sense of power - the way he assembled the wooden box was like squeezing Rogal Dorn into it. in wooden planks.

Then, Perturabo spoke: "Yes, as long as you don't care that the glory of the Imperial Fists is eclipsed by the Iron Warriors."

"I don't think that will happen," Rogal Dorn said, "because your honorable character ensures that you will not intentionally obscure our honor."

"Oh, Dorne." Perturabo sighed, "You'd better leave this room quickly and prepare for the army's departure from Invite."

"The preparations are complete, my brother. For I trust that you will agree to my application."

"My dear brother, please do the first half of the sentence!"