Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"You see, even though I have a bad reputation in this world, I often think that I am the most extraordinary person in the world. Look, think about it, no matter where I sit, as long as I sit a little Just say a few words and wink and play some manipulative tricks, and everyone will not only smile cheerfully on their faces, but also be full of joy in their hearts, saying that I am really a fool and a madman."

"Look, the creases on their faces have been flattened layer by layer, and the sea is not so quiet in the wind! When they see me, they change their appearance, as if they have drunk the fruit wine from the mountains and chewed the It’s better for normal people to be like this with the god’s forget-me-not. Then they will be happy, and I will be happy too. I have achieved my role, so you don’t want to laugh or cry. You weirdo who doesn’t want to cry, who is scolding me with your stubborn face, is he also a fool or a lunatic?”

"I'm not a fool, Cruz," Morse said quietly.

The expelled prince's cloudy eyes widened. Slowly, the corners of his mouth were pulled upward, and the bone-white teeth were exposed from the tips of his lips, and soon the gums were visible.

He chuckled, rising from the ground to grab the hem of Morse's robe.

Morse took a step back, a spark of psychic energy flashed, and Cruz's fingertips immediately ignited with scorching fire.

He screamed in agony, fell back to the ground holding his fingers, and stared at Morse with round eyes, with strange purple marks like scars etched in the center of his pupils. Andos outside the door heard the screams and wanted to stop him, but hesitated again and again. His trust in Morse prevented him from breaking into the room.

"It hurts so much, it's not human." The mad prince cried, "Father, let me kill a few people and tear them to pieces, so I won't suffer anymore!" You used to flatter me like that! You have become a fool, but you would rather pay respect to the tyrant, bow to dead souls, living plagues, and inhuman evil ghosts who have died a thousand times! "

"Didn't its face tell you what a mistake it was? Its clothes are all fake. It and the eyes in the stars, in the sky, in the vast ocean, which are always there, come from A source!”

Morse didn't want to communicate with people who were losing their minds. It would only add to the frustration. He waited for Cruz to be quiet while looking at the furnishings in the prince's room.

The tyrant did not restrict Cruz in terms of food and clothing, and Locos had no such habit. The various daily necessities in the room were not lacking in anything except those with sharp edges that might cause the mad prince to damage his body or escape.

One of the most abundant items was piled paper—not the thin white paper Perturabo was studying, which had sharp edges, but the rough and mushy paper Lokos was used to.

Each piece of paper is filled with indecipherable words and drawings in charcoal. Some of the drawings on the paper are newly drawn with blood. As for the old blood-stained drawings, although no strange things have happened so far, Attendants still come regularly to collect and burn them.

Morse stepped over the clutter on the floor, wrapped his mind around the paper, and whispered softly: "I thank you for maintaining good enough hygiene for a madman, Cruz."

Cruz rolled in a half circle on the ground and licked his injured finger.

Different patterns are drawn on the centers of different papers, including huge eyeballs, burning trees, dead poisonous snakes, and broken and reassembled limbs. Cruz's painting skills were so difficult for Morse that he was even attracted by his poor painting skills for a moment.

"If no one can understand your painting, you have to blame yourself, fool." He flipped through the mad prince's graffiti, "Your painting is so ugly, who can understand it?"

"But I also want to praise you for one thing. Your psychic control is so unexpectedly good that I didn't come to kill you earlier." Morse bent down and whispered to Cruz. "I always thought the guy who lived in Lokos was just an ordinary little psyker, Cruz."

Cruz shed tears.

"Stop crying, fool. Why do you want to see me." Morse threw graffiti in the prince's face.

"Haha, you idiot! It's obvious that you're here to be my guest, but you still say I want to see you. Why are you so smug and self-righteous?"

The mad prince suddenly turned his face again, angrily tore up all the graffiti that fell on him, got up and stomped on it, "You ungrateful guy! I gave you my eyes, why are you so greedy?" ! You want these and those in a whimsical way! You cursed, deceived, pathetic, pretentious thing!"

Morse sighed and considered whether to knock Cruz unconscious and read the memory directly.

"Why six people?"

"I saw you coming like this, and you came after hearing this number! Isn't this the cause of your death, fool! Do you still want to ask me why there are six people? Then I want to ask you about the six vultures They flew by somewhere! I didn’t see them!”

"I'm losing the patience to translate your crazy words, fool."

"But that's how I saw it." The prince shed tears again, "So many sounds, so many shadows, I saw one picture after another."

He knelt down in panic, collected the scraps of paper on the ground and held them in his arms, "It's all here, it's all here, I tell you everything, save me, are you happy because of me? I Please save me, I don’t want to see you again! No one can make me lie, but everyone I see is fake! Body, consciousness, I don’t want to cry anymore!”

"I've had enough," Morse said to himself. "Do psychics have to talk like this? Can't they just follow my example and use some simple and easy-to-understand statements instead of throwing out a series of goddamn puzzles?"

He didn't want to bring his wicker chair here, so he made an ice cube seat by condensing water and sat down on it, taking advantage of his ability to withstand cold and heat.

"You stupid prophet," he scolded in a bad tone, "What year is it now?"

"It's seven hundred and ninety-nine years, monster." The prince obediently knelt on the ground holding the shredded paper. "The stars will rise today, and everyone is watching it climb to the top of the cliff. Its hands It’s bleeding.”

"What year is tomorrow?"

"It's the year 809, monster. The star is very angry on this day. Others are shouting for it to change its name."

Morse was lost in thought.

"What year is the day after tomorrow?"

"It's the year eight hundred and forty-nine, monster. On this day the sun sets on the top of the mountain, and the stars leave with the sun. How unwary is its cheer!"

"Further?"

"It's nine hundred and ninety-nine years, monster. On this day, the stars lost to time, and the stars' debris fell all over the sky. It lost so miserably, so whose fault is it!"

"What's the end?"

"It's the next thousand years, monster. On this day, the stars will burn and kill everything on the earth because we disobeyed him! My poor sister, she loved him so much, she lived and died by him In the palm of your hand!"

Morse stood up suddenly, ice crystals broke and rolled all over the ground, and then evaporated in the high heat. He grabbed Cruz's cheek fiercely, and the violent psychic sparks followed the neural connections and directly burned most of the mad prince's memory areas. At the same time, he grabbed all the phantoms in the projection of his soul, cut them into pieces, and the flames of reality soared into the sky. It started burning, mercilessly burning all the manuscripts on the table, walls, and floor, as well as the smeared fabrics on some furniture, leaving nothing behind, and the fire ashes fell everywhere.

The mad prince fell to the ground and kept twitching. His miserable wails made Andos finally couldn't help but push the door open and break in: "Mr. Morse, please don't..."

He looked at the scene in the room and finished the second half of the sentence slowly: "...hurt him."

"Let's go," Morse said coldly, "your brother is indeed crazy."

"Isn't it what the religion says is possessed by the devil?" Andos asked worriedly.

"No." Morse turned and strode away. "He just saw too much."

In the door that was closed by the attendant, the mad prince's murmurs continued: "The one with his chin raised, he is conceited. The one with his face covered, he is lazy. The one with the flower crown on his head, he is vain. The one who is restless, he is fanatical. The one who is decorated with gold and silver, he is happy. He is here! His spirit has descended. ah!"