Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"Narni, an ancient town in the southern region of Old Terra Europa, its name first appeared in ancient books since the Romans settled there thirty thousand years ago... Turn left, Rogal Dorn.

Perturabo connected a data cable to the hull so that the words that appeared in his mind could be converted into sounds, which would appear directly in Rogal Dorn's portable sound array sequence.

Donn lifted his feet and turned to the left.

At this time, the mechanical Perturabo was leading other tourists to visit the specific areas they were allowed to visit, while Rogal Dorn followed Perturabo's separate guidance to the secret space that the Iron Lord wished to show him.

"There is a unique and especially ancient traditional myth of ancient Terra spread here, that is, a hero named Narni and another man named Perugia jointly killed the griffin that harassed this place. Monster, Perugia takes the monster's bones, and Narni takes the monster's skin - Morse proposed the name, I think it is good."

"Yes." Dorn replied, knowing that no matter which wall he spoke to in the Cheorwon, his words would eventually enter Perturabo's hearing system.

During the long period of construction and strengthening, Perturabo's control over this space fortress has reached an astonishing degree.

"The Court of Narni, this is the name of this database." Perturabo continued to say on the electronic channel. "Its birth is one of the countless orc-related accidents that Magnus has created. extension."

"It was originally just an ordinary database, a data center used to collect all those who might become our enemies, until the orcs' waaaagh force field fluctuations caused unexpected interference to it."

"Does this include data related to the Imperial Fists?" Rogal Dorn asked.

"include."

"Okay." Dawn nodded, "Continue."

"After the waaagh force field affected the core of the database, these data integration bodies were trained and became a... able to read the data and directly generate a non-real space for the physical legions for combat. The data in it The body can fight independently, and what is consumed is the soul fluctuations and residues left after the death of the green skin."

"In addition, due to the waaaagh force field operation logic that is different from the etheric ocean, and the maintenance of the curse, at least to a certain extent, it has achieved an excellent level of isolation from the influence of the dark gods."

"Have you reported to the Emperor, Perturabo?" Dorn asked cautiously after thinking about it. What Perturabo described seemed to be close to the edge of the Empire's use of smart protocols.

"certainly."

"Okay." Dorn asked no more questions, "So, the Court of Narni is a battle simulation field?"

"I think it could be a convenient place for corps exercises, but when it's released to the public, I would describe it as a controlled, non-generative body of data written entirely by hand."

"During the Olympia Games, I thought it would be the right time to put this resistance training device on trial. If you want, you can get in there and test it out for me."

"Do I need to make any preparations?" Rogal Dorn asked, lowering his head and scanning the leather jacket and trousers he was currently wearing, as well as the golden skull hanging around his waist.

This isn't a combat-focused outfit, but it will never interfere with any sudden fights.

"Enter the room, hold the top of the handle of the Holy Hammer placed in the center of the room with your bare hands, and do not resist the wandering of the will." Perturabo said, "You will enter the Court of Narni in the state you wish, and I will observe your status."

"Holy Hammer?" Morse's voice suddenly joined the conversation, "What did you do to it?"

Perturabo temporarily left the communications array. Dawn waited for two seconds and received no further prompts.

He raised his head and watched the elevator in front of him located in the core area of ​​the Cheorwon descending silently in front of him from above, and stepped onto the platform.

Without him having to do anything extra, the black iron platform automatically descended toward the bottom of the Cheorwon—which meant that Perturabo was personally giving orders to his fortress.

The platform stopped in front of a wide square surface, and if Perturabo hoped to provide it for the training of an organized army in the future, he would need a larger surface.

Amid the hum of steel, steam and pistons behind the surrounding walls, Dorn steadily walked towards the hammer that was placed upside down in the center of the platform and was fixed by a ring container, standing like a scepter.

He recognized that this was the Holy Hammer of Truth held by Perturabo when he fought with him in the snowy mountains many years ago.

He reached out his hand, dangled it momentarily over the hammer's handle, and held it.

A gust of cold wind surged around him. He saw his shadow moving behind him, and in front of him, the bright snowy mountain sky lit up dazzlingly in his sight. A figure appeared here, who was familiar enough to Dorn, but very unfamiliar as an opponent.

Dorn reached out to his waist, where the Storm Fang was fixed. He grasped the hilt tightly and drew the sword.

"Yes, it's that hammer. I can't really fight with it."

Perturabo said to Morse, momentarily halting his drawings for Conrad Curze, who was sitting across from him.

"As a unique curse product, its attached identification settings that cannot be cracked for personal identity have been proven to be used in database permission detection. Although this is a coincidence that I only learned about now, Conrad Curz just said that genetic testing is not trustworthy, so your holy hammer is playing its maximum role."

"I am not questioning why you developed novel uses for the gifts I gave you, Lord of Iron," Morse said, twirling his quill and drawing new lines on his own parchment. Plot structure flow chart.

He was beginning to prepare for his second performance at the Olympia, and at the request of Konrad Koz, he gained some new inspiration.

"I'm just curious about your creativity." He stopped twirling his quill and smiled at Perturabo. "And your caution. Why would you even think of setting up a database?"

"Initially it was to preserve memories," Perturabo said, "until Dorn once again mentioned to me the unknown enemy he had seen in the Realm of Chaos. I began to realize..."

"The necessity of vigilance, my brother." Curze wandered around the command room, looking at each picture hanging between the pillars. "I am glad that another person finally understands this. However, He looked back at Perturabo and Morse, "What is the Holy Hammer? I have never seen any omen..."

"That's not the point," Perturabo said. "How much more design requirements do you have for your ship, Conrad?"

Coze shrugged his shoulders and wrapped himself in a dark cloak. "I understand," he said with a chuckle, coming to the side of Perturabo's seat and looking at the creation of the Lord of Iron. "This First floor…impeccable.”

"So," Perturabo turned the page, "the next level is divided into how many blocks?"

"Oh, what other number has not been used? Four, the fourth primarch, the fourth night will be named after you."

"Why should I carve my name into your Queen of Glory?" Perturabo shook his head. "I'll make a rough sketch for you first."

He couldn't imagine that when the descendants of Konrad Curze were struggling to shuttle through the Night Veil, looking for a way out of the many severe tests set by the Primarch, he learned that this maze was actually designed by another Primarch. , will have a different view of him than good intentions.

"If you have nothing to do, come and see my play, Conrad." Morse called, giving up the relatively inefficient handwriting and letting the quill move quickly on its own, writing on a new roll of parchment. The structure of the story was quickly written on it for the primarch to read.

Doubt flashed across Coates's face. He didn't think Morse would bring someone whose aesthetics were not suitable for the public stage at the Olympia into the process of writing a play unless the play asked him something else. requirements.

"There was a king named Cronus - in the depths of my hesitant and dark memories, this name seems to have been used in the first act of the past?" Coze raised his eyebrows.

"I don't see the need to come up with a second name for him," Morse said, causing the paper to float upwards so that the Primarch could read it. "You may continue to recite, Eighth Primarch."

Curze licked his lips, and those tiny scars brought a familiar stimulation to his tongue, as well as a satisfying taste of blood. "There is a deep labyrinth hidden deep in the kingdom of Cronus, in which a bat-winged monster named the Minotaur is imprisoned."

Perturabo coughed, already understanding which myth this was. Fortunately, Magnus was not here, otherwise the red primarch would inevitably protest against Morse's adaptation.

"The Minotaur was once the son of King Cronus. Due to a forbidden rune experiment, he turned into a half-human, half-alien existence. Since then, he has been forced to live alone in the depths of the labyrinth, wearing fur as clothing and blood as blood. Drink and feed on tendons.”

"Every year, on the unique midnight day of death, the Minotaur will ask nearby city-states to send young blood descendants as tribute to him. Otherwise, he will escape from the labyrinth, go deep into the kingdom, and threaten all living beings. This A cruel ritual shrouded the entire kingdom in fear, making it impossible to escape. "

Coates' free-spirited chanting was gradually infused with real emotions, and his voice became sometimes tense and sometimes relaxed, high and low at the same time, with meticulously crafted and dramatic perfect ups and downs.

Next to him, Morse lay half on his side in the back of the chair, satisfied with the feedback Coates gave. Undoubtedly, Conrad Coates already understood who would be the starring role in this scene and which real past period this story reflected.

"This matter continued until a warrior named Perturabo appeared..."

"Why is my real name the only one?" Perturabo questioned.

"What name do you want?" Mors asked. "Hercules?"

"Why not use the name Theseus in the original book?"

"Because Salome killed Medusa," Mors replied, trying to reinforce the idea that the plays he was writing now were Olympian adaptations and did not need to be exact copies of the original texts.

"I'll continue," Curze smiled hoarsely, "Perturabo...or Hercules? It's your decision, brother."

"Then Heracles," Perturabo shook his head and continued to devote himself to the design of his labyrinth. In a trance, he suddenly felt as if he was the designer of the Minotaur labyrinth that has not been mentioned in this story. Creator. He suppressed the smile on his face.

"Well, things continued until a warrior named Hercules showed up, a hero from afar who vowed to enter the Labyrinth and end the Minotaur's reign of terror. However, Hercules discovered that he It is difficult to imagine a solution to this terrible maze."

"Fortunately, this hero met one of King Cronus's advisers, Morse."

Perturabo breathed a sigh of relief. He might be grateful to Morse for not including an "Ariadne, the King's Daughter" for him in the script - he couldn't have imagined that scenario.

"You use your real name too?" Perturabo asked.

"Naming is not easy, Lord of Olympia. I am giving up naming every character." Morse said frankly, "Besides, Morse is not my real name. It seems that no one remembers that."

"You reminded me why you still don't want to tell me your real name to this day?" Perturabo asked.

"Oh, this secret is closely related to the Emperor, and if it is revealed, I will not care about the subsequent consequences." Morse shook the quill in his hand, "Just Morse. I No intention of replacing.”

Conrad Coates reads on.

"Mors did not agree with the current cruel policies in the kingdom, and decided to help Hercules find and defeat the Minotaur. He provided the warrior with a luminous holy hammer, which will be used in the labyrinth. Guide the way... Craftsman, I can't help but wonder, what is the Holy Hammer? "

"I think you already know the props that radiate brilliance on the hero's journey." Morse said briskly, "Isn't this obvious enough?"

Coze let out a regretful sigh between his lips and teeth, "Hercules, with the help of Mors, finally found the Minotaur deep in the labyrinth. After a fierce battle, Hercules defeated "The Minotaur."

"At the moment when the half-human monster died, the true soul of the prince awakened from the dead body bound by runes, and countless young people who had been sent into the maze also appeared one after another, and were protected by the true soul of the prince. Although their skin color has become as dark as the night because they stayed in the darkness for too long..."

When Perturabo heard this reason, he couldn't help but frown deeply.

"...But they did not die, and still survived in a form similar to the souls of the dead. Hercules and the real prince left the labyrinth with the released people. This incident became another legend in Hercules' life. , passed down from generation to generation.”

"Another legend," Curze read emphatically. "Only your Primarch has multiple great deeds in your "Theogony". And how can I evaluate it?"

He rolled up the parchment and asked Morse enthusiastically: "How am I going to fight him? What props do you have for me?"

"There is indeed a pair of weapons," said Perturabo, putting down the blank paper in his hand. Ever since Konrad Coates started reading the script, he couldn't concentrate on drawing a single line. "A pair of sharp claws, the forging has reached the final stage. If you need it, I can give it to you tomorrow."

"A pair of sharp claws?" When he actually learned that he was about to receive a gift, Curze's frivolous and cold smile disappeared. His expression became calm, and his dark eyes were filled with thoughts. "How can I thank you, my brother?"

"It's just a weapon forged from the fragments of Anaris of Dawn. If it weren't for chance, I wouldn't have been able to obtain this material. Returning it to you now is exactly where its lifeline lies." Perturabo said, " So if you want to say thank you, just act in this drama.”

"Of course, of course," Curze murmured, "they will have names...what would be the most appropriate name?"