Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

The wind and sand rolled under the bright white sunny sky, rolling up Morse's black robe, passing through his void body, and briefly flashed a ray of light when passing those strange runes.

In front of him, the world blurred at the edge of his vision, blending into the ever-changing depths of the unpredictable sea of ​​souls. In the center of the field of vision, where it is still clear, is the gleaming shadow of a city. It is based on pure white stone and extends outwards to a clean land that shields the crisis.

Approaching the city wall, Morse pulled off the wind-proof hood, letting it roll and disappear in the narrow gap between the present world and the vast ocean, looking up at this ancient city that had not been there for a long time.

In the center of the city, the tip of a white stone pyramid is plated with a layer of gold like the sun, emitting thousands of rays of light, reflecting the surrounding five shorter pyramids. Above each pyramid, there are different school logos flying. They prove to be retreats and libraries of their respective schools.

Prospero, City of Light, Tizca.

Of course, this is just a projection engraved by Magnus' Tizka in his mental world.

Morse walked through the city gate and entered this grand empty city.

In addition to the huge collection of books in each pyramid that are classified and stored according to the needs of the five major disciplines, the buildings in this projection are not only the residences of Tizca, but also other civilian or military areas in the pyramid. blocks, all empty.

It seems that Magnus subconsciously just wants to improve the appearance of the city, which is generally acceptable; except for the collection of books, nothing is important.

Morse walks through the streets of the city that differ from reality. The fig trees, water lily ponds, clear water covered with reeds and obsidian paths have been reorganized recently and are intertwined in the roads connecting the pyramids. The arrangement has a unique pattern and seems to fit some mathematical principles.

Morse easily calculated a few figures and couldn't help but feel amused.

In this world of nothingness, every scene, object, plant and tree reflects Magnus’s true subconscious thoughts, displaying them in front of visitors in the most vivid way.

Not far away there was a low shed built next to the pool, and Morse sat down at the table under the shed.

"You were deeply influenced by Mortarion, Magnus," Mors said. "There are traces of numerology left in your spiritual world."

"That's not my problem," Magnus pushed open a street door and walked up to Morse. "That's Mortarion!"

The original body breathed a sigh of relief, "But I haven't seen you like this for a long time, Morse. There is nothingness, nothing, only some shining characters."

Here, his image returns to his original appearance in Prospero, with his fluffy copper-colored hair and parchment-like scholar's robes. The only difference is that he has a pair of thick leather boots that are completely inconsistent with the style of the hot sunny day, which makes people worry whether he will feel too hot.

"Okay," Morse looked at the hurried arrival of Magnus with interest, and counted the number of onyx and emeralds inlaid on his bracelet, which was a disastrous fourteen.

"What on earth did Mortarion do? When I invited the Emperor to personally devote himself to Sanguinius's dream, he insisted on saying that he couldn't spare his precious and rare time and refused outright?" Morse was curious. He asked, noticing a familiar psychic wave in the air.

He turned sideways and looked at the looming young figure behind the prism with the fluttering flag.

It was a young man with silver hair, wearing a robe, with plump skin, standing upright, wearing a laurel crown on his head, and the eagle scepter in his hand was shining brightly.

It's a pity that the young man's face has a haggard look that doesn't match his age, making him look old for no reason.

"You're here too, Malcador," Morse said.

"Mortarion used his compass to calculate the location of the Terra Webway Gate." Malcador did not say a single lie, nor did he waste time on the silent gaze between each other - even if In the world outside this dimension, time is the least valuable human-defined thing. "My agent told me that."

Even Magnus would not ask where Malcador's agents came from at this time.

Malcador came to the table, and the mirror-like pool next to him reflected the appearance of an underground palace.

Brass cables are coiled and intertwined, and the sound of pistons and welding is accompanied by the sound of heavy hammers. Huge iron chains creaked, the hiss of cooling and heating flowed through the various molds along with melting wax and iron, and hymns to the Ohm Messiah. Arcs of light flickered between the gaps, buzzing technological artifacts and runes left over from ancient Terra surrounding each other, forming a magnificent and complex framework.

In front of a huge adamantine door with a span of more than hundreds of meters, the gray figure of the Primarch Mortarion stood there without a mask, exposing his skin that had been damaged by venom.

what is that? Mortarion mouthed this, and his voice was drowned in the hum of the machine.

The Imperial Chancellor approached the Primarch and gave his advice as gently as possible: Why are you here, Mortarion?

Mathematics reveals its secrets to me, old wizard. Mortarion lowered his head and said, The Emperor has hidden so many secrets from us, and you must be hiding them...

The Primarch closed his mouth, frowned, and stopped expressing his dissatisfaction to Malcador.

He really didn't like Malcador, whether it was his bumbling style, his sorcery magic marks, or the subtle views of the Imperial Guard and Malcador's subordinate officials in the entire Palace of Terra towards the Primarch.

But considering that the Emperor was the greatest master of sorcery in the galaxy, Mortarion knew he had to accept the Emperor and those around him using sorcery, or as they called it, psionics.

He should have sworn never to complicit in sorcery, and now Mortarion was glad that he had not yet spoken of his oath. But that doesn't mean he accepts it willingly.

The only thing that comforted him was that Magnus, the empire's most proficient in sorcery, was on the same front as him, and even went further than him.

In the picture, the Primarch and the Prime Minister continued to discuss the Emperor's little secret back and forth. Although it was not a tit-for-tat confrontation, it was still a refusal to give in and a gentle warning.

"Do you think you are capable of calculating the location of the Webway Gate, Magnus?" Mors asked, "assuming you were unaware of the Emperor's plans."

"Perhaps," Magnus said humbly, "but I would not think of conducting a divination in the Palace of Terra. It would be too offensive and would likely cause damage to the palace's psychic defenses, or even to the Webway itself. ”

"If the Emperor is not on Terra, I have to convince Mortarion myself," Malcador reluctantly picked up a bright yellow fruit from the fruit plate on the low table.

This fruit should be some kind of miniature lemon modified by the Mechanicus based on a sample of a small tomato. At least there is a series of alternating prayers of praise engraved on the plate.

"Fortunately, he is here, you can just call him to take care of his son." Morse said. "Mortarion is quite willing to listen to the Emperor now."

Malcador sighed with a headache, "For the sake of me arranging a palace room for him, Mortarion is not as hostile to me as I expected."

"But how did he come up with the idea of ​​divination in the palace?" Magnus was still in disbelief.

The Red Primarch pointed his finger at the water waves, and the perspective in the screen changed. On the other side of the outer door where Mortarion was, Magnus himself was there, looking at Mortar in surprise through the Mechanicum's camera. Li An came to the door.

For a moment, Magnus thought Mortarion was after him again to hand in the article.

The moment this thought arose, a new monthly magazine appeared on the table surrounded by three people in Tizka's mental world, Mortarion's "In-Depth Exploration of Mathematical Rules Based on the Attention Mechanism" Just write it on the first page of the journal.

Despite Magnus's condemning and begging look, Morse took the Journal of Thousand Suns into his hands, pressed the journal on the table with one hand, and started flipping through the table of contents.

Malcador waved his hand tiredly, and the scene in the pool changed rapidly. Under Malcador's secret message, the Emperor on the surface put down his affairs and ordered the Imperial Guard to wait where he was. He quickly rushed to the underground palace, strode through the dripping corridor, nodded to Malcador, and replaced the dilemma. Prime Minister of the Empire.

Morse observed the emperor's movements without speaking.

"Then you called me here," Makado said, turning the bright yellow fruit in his palm. "Well, if Magnus hadn't told me, I wouldn't have known that my old friend lost an opportunity to be invited out by you to enjoy his leisure time."

"He was actually watching," Morse said. "He was just not acting in Sanguinius's dream."

The flow rate of the picture returned to normal, and that was exactly what was happening in the Terra Underground Palace.

When Mortarion met the Emperor, the change in his expression was not much different from when he met Malcador before, but his overall temperament had obviously changed. The resistance of the original body increased with every step of the Emperor's approach. Transition into quiet waiting.

What's this?

Mortarion asked, his voice still hard to hear.

Malcador tells me nothing, Emperor.

By the pool, Magnus whispered to the two of them: "Mortarion has not called the Emperor father until now."

"Not surprising," Morse said, looking up from his journal, even though no one could make out the movement of the head, a mass of golden runes. "But Mortarion has learned to complain, which is gratifying."

The Emperor gently placed his hand on Mortarion's back, touching the scars on his heir's back through the heavy clothing worn by the Primarch.

This is a kind of future for empire. said the Emperor. Come on, this is not what you should know. It's not time yet.

What should I know? Mortarion asked stubbornly, not wanting to move his steps.

I have lived in Terra for such a long time, watching military battle reports, understanding your empire, recognizing the systems and ideas you support, studying them, and trying to better understand the thoughts hidden behind your silence. But the more I studied, the more my confusion grew, and everything conflicted. I don’t want to waste my time aimlessly anymore, that’s your time too.

You should join the expedition when you are better back. You're still adjusting to a different climate than Barbarus.

I adapted well enough.

The Emperor seemed to casually glance in the direction of the outer door of the underground palace. Magnus, who was snooping inside the door, trembled and obediently left the screen used for broadcasting surveillance and returned to his work.

"Oops..." Magnus blinked.

In the pool, half of the field of vision returned to clear and tranquil water waves.

The perspective provided by Malcador was retained, and the prime minister readjusted the perspective in the pool.

"I thought my father was going to tell Mortarion about the webway," Magnus said. "He thinks so highly of him."

"If you were to list them in order of importance, Luperkar would not know anything about the Web Channel until now." Morse said sarcastically. "Although I really think it's time for him to tell Horus."

"Horus will know that there is a secret beneath the palace," Malcador said, "if Mortarion happens to mention this to Horus in casual conversation."

The Prime Minister paused, judging the Emperor's character and behavior, and then said: "Yes, my Lord will allow this level of suggestion."

Inside the pool, the scene continued.

You should know the responsibilities I leave you. Only you can do it, says the Emperor.

This time, as he pushed at Mortarion's back, his son followed him obediently.

The Emperor led Mortarion into a narrow chamber, a dark setting that drew away the light.

"Oh, that's my room," Malcador played with the fruit in his hand helplessly. Everything in the palace was open to the emperor.

The emperor knocked on the table, and the holographic three-dimensional image quickly took shape.

The first thing that popped up was a planet marked as a sentinel. The Emperor quickly moved across it and found the planet he needed - the surface was severely damaged, covered with the ash left by volcanic eruptions, and as desolate as the Death Star. . The engines of the Adeptus Mechanicus hovered nearby, enveloping the planet.

Mortarion read the small words as labels in the dozens of frames floating around the screen. All the transformations carried out by the Mechanicus on this planet were made public: those red-robed men from the Mechanical Kingdom, repairing The surface environment of the entire planet creates a broad plain, preparing it for further construction and transformation in the future.

The Emperor stared at the planet.

"Nikea," said the Emperor, "your duty will be fulfilled here."

"What is that?" Mortarion asked confused.

"After Perturabo returns from the Satradar Abyss, his next task will be to build the amphitheater here." The Emperor said, "When the amphitheater is completed and all my heirs are involved in the expedition, A trial will take place here, and you will speak here to express your views."

Mortarion was not sure of the meaning of the Emperor's words. He was not sure whether what the Emperor was referring to and what he expected in his heart were fortunately the same thing.

The projection of the Milky Way swirled before the Emperor, magnifying the image of Nikaea even further.

"At this time, we still need to use impermissible means to create the unification of galactic humanity. But when the meeting is held, we will renegotiate all regulations regarding the ether." The emperor glanced to the side, as if he knew that Mage Nuss was also listening to his words at the same time, "How will Magnus's think tank system be implemented correctly, and how will psychic energy be disciplined and controlled to deal with the temptations and threats of subspace?"

Mortarion stood silently, staring at the unrepaired ruins on the planet's surface.

"You will be one of the protagonists of that day. This is the duty I give you, Mortarion."

Mortarion's eyes softened. "I will fulfill my responsibilities..."

"There is one more thing." The Emperor continued, curling his fingers and placing them at his sides, hidden in the folds of the fabric. "At that time, the regulations of the Empire's truth will also be re-formulated."

"How to enact it?" Mortarion asked, "Revise the regulations on psionic energy?"

"More than that," said the Emperor, his voice almost a sigh, "the Space Marines, the Primarchs, and my own place and identity in the Imperium will also be reaffirmed, lest any heretical ideas take advantage of them. And come in and create divisions in disagreements.”

The next words brought a trace of unacknowledged pain to the Emperor's face, "The Imperial Truth will no longer be a scripture."

Morse's attention became focused.

"The Council of Nicaea," he picked up a yellow fruit from the plate, chewed it in his mouth, and the food fell into the void. "Okay, it's the same old thing again. I should have thought of it when I heard the name. To be honest, I don't think the success rate is high."

In the picture, Mortarion couldn't help but ask: "I'm not familiar with these contents..."

"I will choose the right man," said the Emperor, "a reluctant Icon. I have seen him."

Malcador thought thoughtfully: "My lord is talking about Sanguinius? I haven't seen him yet."

"It can't be Lorgar Aurelion." Mors ate another modified fruit lemon. "I have heard about him. If he is really the protagonist of that day, I'm afraid he will have to go through two rounds. judgment seat."

Magnus stared at Morse who had eaten two fruits, showing a complicated expression.

"Lorgar Aurelion." Speaking of the Primarch, Malcador couldn't help but sigh, and he put the yellow fruit he had been playing with for a long time into his mouth, "He...ahem..."

The moment he bit into the peel, the young prime minister immediately coughed and lay prone on the table, unable to speak a word.

Magnus couldn't bear to look away.

"What does it smell like?" Morse was curious. "I can't eat it in this state."

Malcador continued to cough.

Magnus whispered softly, "It's spicy. Very spicy. Dorn is turning red from eating it."

Malcador raised his head, glared at the whispering Primarch, and disappeared from Tizka's mental world.

"Okay, he's gone." Morse shrugged, "It seems really spicy."

He took another one, then turned to Magnus: "Now, I'm curious what that planet is."

"You mean Nicaea?" Magnus asked, looking in awe at the Mechanicum fruit lemons on the table.

"No, before Nicaea, that planet flashed from the holographic projection and was written in the official document that the Emperor was processing before going to the underground palace." Morse said, "You know? Okay. , it seems you don’t know either.”

Note: An interesting point is that the former Mechanicum was an independent national government, but the 40k Adeptus Mechanicus/cult mechanicus/adeptus mechanicus that has been merged into the empire is not.

However, due to conventional translation habits, it is not easy to reflect the difference.

Another note:

The Council of Nicaea in 325 AD is undoubtedly the realistic prototype of the Warhammer Council of Nicaea and one of the most important meetings in the history of the church. It discussed some far-reaching issues. Those who are interested You can check the information yourself.