Warhammer: I don’t want to be a can of worms! ! !

Chapter 389 1.3 Father and Son

The Iron-Blooded is drifting quietly in orbit. At the outermost edge of the galaxy, the fifth patrol fleet sent to the subspace is bumping in the waves of the subspace.

At first, Perturabo was still worried that the distance between the warp and the physical universe would cut off his control of the Iron Warriors, but now he found that he was overly worried. As of now, the distance cannot be a reason to weaken his control of the soldiers.

Thousands of real-time maps are going on in his mind, but they are no longer deductions and simulations. They are real things happening. Every moment, the Lord of Steel enjoys this process. He finally does not have to endure his failed subordinates. They are.

In the gaps of his thoughts, the Lord of Steel would sometimes think of the Iron Warriors who were sent to the station by him. He tried to recall them, but their data did not emerge naturally - he could not control them.

This may be a good thing, or it may be a bad thing. The Lord of Steel hopes to test his abilities on these forgotten descendants of his, obtain information, and make everything efficient. The only price is the erasure of personality.

To a certain extent, Perturabo felt sorry for some of the warriors he admired, but these emotions were quickly erased. As the primarch who slaughtered eleven legions, he would not invest too much in his offspring. Necessary emotions.

Now, within the Iron Warriors' fleet, the warriors were quietly completing their work, as if... Like Perturabo's sister's doll, Perturabo realized that he could spend redundant energy Make them "alive", but now this is not necessary.

He had more important things to do.

The Iron Warriors' fleet is colonizing the Eye of Terror at a terrifying speed, looking for resources, building infrastructure, and building transportation lines. Perturabo doesn't know why he does this, but he wants to do this, and that's it -

In this brief respite, he did what he wanted to do, an architect, he built, created rather than destroyed, and his newly remembered abilities made building more interesting, and he participated "in person" The stacking of every tiny detail.

Of course, out of some more hidden and imperceptible idea, Perturabo did not choose to build humanistic buildings, lecture halls, and bell towers. These were unnecessary because no one would enjoy them.

He chose buildings that were numbingly familiar, trenches, airports... buildings that shaped him into a war machine.

This is to prepare for possible dangers, Perturabo thought, and he confirmed again and again that he was in the real world. Perturabo would not easily set foot in subspace again before he was fully prepared.

Nothing can interrupt the Iron Lord's construction, except—

Perturabo stood up from his Iron Throne for the first time and walked out of the gallery.

No one informed him, and busy people passed by him in silence. Normally, he would be annoyed by their rudeness, but not now.

He walked to the deck of the Iron Blood. The moment the Lord of Steel stood still, the thing was also placed firmly on the deck by the elevator of the fifth exploration team.

It was almost carried by the subspace turbulence and sent to the fifth exploration team's ship. The instrument was making a calm buzzing sound, and the liquid in it was gurgling.

Perturabo stared at the incubator, and the curtain began to waver. This may be a necessary price, if he wants him to stay here, then he needs to endure this.

He took a step forward silently, and all the people working on the deck stopped. They turned their heads and stared at the smooth, docile and quiet nursery cabin.

Perturabo felt that his heartbeat was accelerating, accelerating, and beating to an incredible frequency. He felt dizzy and unbelievable. So far, he still felt that all this was false, but the Iron Warriors' fleet was already there. Construction took three years within the Eye of Terror.

Nothing happened, no rust, no monsters of iron and fire, not even heirs. In these three years, Perturabo was the only one left in the world.

Now he is the only one left.

In disbelief, Perturabo made an impulsive decision. Instead of instructing the soldiers to step forward to operate, he walked over personally and stared at the squirming piece of flesh.

He shattered the transparent protective shell with one punch, and Perturabo's hands stirred in the viscous liquid, pulling the child out with an indescribable force, pulling him out of his protective shell.

His skin seemed to be burning when he touched him. Perturabo knew that this was his imagination, but his hand was still twitching. With a pop, he involuntarily let go of his hand, and the baby hit the Iron-blooded ship hard. on the floor.

He watched him struggle, he was wet all over, and he opened his eyes and stared at Perturabo in horror.

At the moment the baby opened his eyes, all the stationary people on the Iron Blood began to work again. The deck commander made a loud noise and waved his baton. The soldiers on guard handed over fist bumped and the crew members who returned from exploration laughed. He was talking about something.

He stared at him.

[Your name is Perturabo. 】

Perturabo spoke slowly, his voice insignificant among the noise of the deck, but something was growing wildly inside him.

[Now, stand up and follow me. If you show weakness, then I will kill you. 】

Little Perturabo watched the huge creature turn and leave without any hesitation. He thought about the possibility of escape for a moment, and finally decided to stagger and follow him.

His long, wet eyelashes trembled, and the child looked around in confusion and horror at the people on the deck, who automatically ignored them.

————————

Little Perturabo sat silently on the ground. There was no furniture in the entire empty room. He was only given a pen and a pile of books piled up next to him that was taller than him.

He wrote and drew quietly in the book, and the formulas were written in his pen. This was how time passed during most of his dark days.

Once again he disappointed his adoptive father.

Little Perturabo's consciousness came into contact with this idea without any trace, and his heart trembled violently. This was enough to make his body tremble, but for the first time, he was adopted by his adoptive father because of his cowardice. After being pushed into the pool and suffocated, he tried his best to suppress any movements that might reveal cowardice.

Steel inside and out.

Little Perturabo recited these words silently in his heart. He hoped that he would be ready again instead of disappointing his adoptive father. In most cases, his adoptive father would not punish him physically, he would just ignore little Perturabo. , ignore him without paying any attention to him.

Little Perturabo longed for his adoptive father's attention. How did this thing grow and take root in his heart? He didn't know it, but by the time he did, he was doing everything he could to please his adoptive father.

His adoptive father was not an unreasonable man, little Perturabo thought as his pen unconsciously made scrawling marks on the paper.

On the contrary, he definitely loves her, little Petura thought.

Otherwise, he would not touch his head unconsciously after the mission was completed, would not promise him new formulas and books, would not teach him fighting skills without reservation, and would not spend a lot of time and energy to check on him. body, will not tell him the stories of those great architects.

His adoptive father hoped that he would become strong enough to be strong both inside and outside.

He needs to meet his adoptive father's expectations of him, so that little Perturabo will get something, maybe a trip, or a new book, instead of the indifference and disregard after disappointing his adoptive father - perhaps more than With these rewards, little Perturabo hoped that his adoptive father would look at him.

In his world, only his adoptive father will pay attention to him, and other people will always ignore little Perturabo. They are also the vassals of his adoptive father. They will not change or affect anything. This world does not belong to them.

After many attempts, little Perturabo gave up trying to attract the attention of those people. He didn't need them as much as they didn't need him.

He once asked his adoptive father about the reward after a successful mission. His adoptive father's answer was that he did not need to pay attention to the weak. This world only belongs to the strong. The whole world revolves around the strongest person. If you can't become The strongest - then you must at least know how to crawl under the strong.

Little Perturabo's life experience tells him that this is right. No one disobeys his adoptive father. Others are of no value. Only the adoptive father has value.

Only the strongest has value, only the father has value.

he thinks.

————————

Perturabo was clearly aware that he was mocking his own soul, and he saw clearly how this happened——

How did I become what I am today.

He gave the child a trivial reward and watched him secretly rejoice over the remnants for a long time.

If he was happy, he would casually call the child over to talk, and then send the child away when the interest subsided. If he was unhappy, he would stop talking to the child for a few days, or even months, and Perturabo would leave his child alone. His attention returned to the fleet's infrastructure, deliberately ignoring him.

Little Perturabo needs steel both internally and externally, and his inner self also needs tempering.

This is what Perturabo said to his own heart, but he knew clearly that this was not the case. A twisted sense of satisfaction grew in his heart. He thought of the Emperor. Did the Emperor think and treat him like this?

He wantonly abandoned his heir in a remote place, assigned him tasks that were difficult to complete, forced him to give up the things he liked to do, and then rewarded his heir with a little scrap while he was waiting for his attention - this was enough to deal with him. .

Perturabo laughed.

He felt ridiculous, he felt absurd, but he was truly immersed in this ocean of power and dominance. He felt with satisfaction that little Perturabo was studying his every move, trying to please him, trying to win him. attention, and as a reward for wagging his tail so hard, Perturabo gave him a look.

How strange, Perturabo thought, why he had never experienced the pleasure of dominance over anyone else? Even after he was able to control an entire fleet, he would only express the emotion of finally being free of waste and gaining the world.

He never knew that his desire to dominate was so dense and vigorous. He watered this greedy flower with wanton violence against himself——

How he despises this little guy who can only live by other people's rewards and words!

Ha...hahahaha! ha!

Every time, every time he spoke to his former self, praising him, punishing him, snubbing him, Perturabo's soul seemed to be torn in two, half of him sighing with contentment, and the other half of him... Trembling and roaring, why are you doing this to him? ! Why? !

Why did he do this to him? ! He shouted at the figure, did he think so too? Dominating his children and taking pleasure in doing so to satisfy his own desire for power?

He frantically imitated the Emperor's atrocities, and Perturabo didn't know why. When he realized that he was retracing the Emperor's path, he had been on this path for too long! He subconsciously uses his attention to reward and punish himself. Ha, he turns out to be a cruel person in this world!

Shhh... no.

Perturabo told himself that he was not, he was far less cruel than the Emperor, at least he would not use blood or body to force their loyalty to him.

Perturabo laughed lowly at himself. If he knocked out his loyalty gene, would he still bow before him? Will you still go out of your way to hope that he will look at him one more time and praise him one more time? Are you still secretly jealous of the awards he gave to other brothers?

Emperor, you are far from worthy of this!

He doesn't deserve it!

Perturabo thought angrily, how could the person who committed such atrocities openly enjoy the tribute of his descendants and enjoy the fear of his every move... Unless this is his nature, he is greedy and cruel. of.

Perturabo has decided, Emperor, if you are truly a noble person, then you don't have to restrict them with your genes and body!

He listened to the footsteps outside the room, and Perturabo felt sarcastic again. Yes, the Emperor was greedy and cruel. Otherwise, how could his descendants have such a cruel and absurd nature?

The footsteps stopped at the door.

【Come in. 】

Perturabo said lazily and hoarsely,

The door was carefully pushed open, and he was amused to see little Perturabo come in as neatly as possible. The child looked at him in shock. He was already several years old, but he still looked like a child. Perturabo was interested in his genes. The half-knockout stunted the growth of the original body itself.

Little Perturabo let out a small gasp.

The adoptive father was leaning naked on the cold, inorganic backrest of the medical chair. Countless tubes were inserted into his upper body. Through some of the translucent tubes, little Perturabo could clearly see the scarlet liquid.

[You know how to operate this, come and operate it. 】

The adoptive father gave the order, and little Perturabo walked up without hesitation and began to control the large instrument. His adoptive father had taught him that he was afraid, but he skillfully buried his cowardice in his heart.

What on earth is...what is this going to do?

Little Perturabo listened silently to his adoptive father's breathing. The strong smell of blood lingered on the tip of his nose. The minced meat splashed down, and drops of sweat dripped from little Perturabo's forehead.

"alright."

He spoke as calmly as he could, and little Perturabo stepped back from the instrument, hiding his hands as best he could behind his back - his hands shaking slightly as he realized that he seemed to be hurting his foster father.

He turned to look at his adoptive father. He had never seen his adoptive father like this before. His eyes were unabashedly filled with the look that only a dominant person has, instead of the adoptive father's usual expressionless face.

【Good boy. 】

The adoptive father said,

【Come here right now. 】

Little Perturabo walked over obediently, frightened, and expectantly. He completed the task perfectly. He was looking forward to the reward from his adoptive father, but his adoptive father's strange state and the blood splashed on the ground scared him.

Little Perturabo's heart was beating violently. His adoptive father forced himself to sit up, and his warm but hard arms stretched out to him.

His adoptive father gave him a hug.

Little Perturabo's mind went blank for a second. He heard his adoptive father's low laughter, which was mixed with self-deprecation, sadness, greed... relief.

"……father--"

Click.

Perturabo let go of his hand with an expressionless expression. He watched the body slide to the ground unconsciously, its neck lying limp. The soldiers were already waiting outside the door. The genes in little Perturabo's body were half-knocked out. It has been completed long ago. The next step is to wash away the memory and then throw him and the nursery into the subspace turbulence casually.

Perturabo thought calmly that he would return to Olympia, and he would forget everything except the Eye of Terror, and only remember the knowledge that Perturabo told him... He would continue to bow to the superior, Until...until this Möbius strip comes to an end.

Perturabo took a deep breath. He let his thoughts touch the Emperor. He realized that he was no longer so majestic. He realized that he was just a king. He would no longer wag his tail at him. No, not anymore.

He is himself, he is Perturabo, he will only satisfy himself and will no longer bow to that liar and tyrant.

——————

Vashtor walked silently on the corridor of the Iron-Blooded. The Iron Warriors have successfully colonized many planets in the Eye of Terror. Perturabo has completed the expansion of his army by replicating the original primitive people of the planets. , his ability does not need to be taught to them, he only needs to implant the seeds, and Perturabo will obtain a new set of data.

Perturabo even taught himself some of the methods of operating the Blackrock Tower on these planets - these were supposed to be taught to him by Vashtor in the future.

How terrifying... Vashtor thought, this is the monster they fed, the out-of-control person tacitly approved by the gods.

It walked into the hall, and Vashtor saw the monster sitting on the Iron Throne. He only belonged to himself, and he only satisfied his own desires.

Now, it's clear that their desires are aligned.

Vashtor laughed, and fire erupted from its mouth. It bowed gracefully, and the monster of iron and fire whispered,

+Congratulations on your freedom, Lord of Steel. +

+Now, can we discuss the real contract? +

Vashtor is glad that it made the right bet. The consequences of Perturabo's previous breach of the contract...it is glad that he broke it.

5k words, no more, great!

Oh, I don't know how to properly fall the Primarch. Actually, I wrote it fast here. If I write it in detail, I can finish it for a week, but the rhythm will be too slow. So everyone can roughly understand how I planned to design Old Peel () Well, I don't know how to fall either. I looked for the original book but didn't understand it.