Warhammer: In the Name of the Emperor

The voyage to Victoria is very long. It is far away at the other end of the Ultimate Star Territory, at the other end of the great rift across the entire star. Moreover, considering the subspace interference caused by the great rift, the fleet must detour to the south. node galaxy, and then jump to the other end.

This also resulted in the voyage being significantly lengthened, and during this voyage everyone had to find something to do for themselves. The soldiers began to train more, and the Astartes also spent a significant amount of time in the training cages and weapons rooms. lengthened.

As for the preachers, they took this opportunity to hold a unique dance. The reason why it was said to be unique was because it was a masquerade. Everyone wore masks and recited poems here after hiding their true identities. Fu, dancing with each other is very characteristic of them, isn't it?

Many people were in a good mood tonight, and the speakers enjoyed this romantic and literary banquet very much, but not Pedronilla. She did not like this boring banquet at all.

It's just sycophants and sycophants and awkward flirting, the drinks taste like mosquito piss, and the food at the table is bland and sparse, served on tiny plates that don't fill your stomach.

So Pedronela doesn't like this kind of dance at all. She has tried her best to get rid of several flirtations and boring conversations since she came in. Fortunately, she is wearing a mask now, otherwise her identity will be exposed. I guess the sycophants are even more swarming.

Petronila took out the writing book from her arms. She opened the contents and wrote some rather spicy words. At this moment, a shadow enveloped her book.

"Didn't tonight's banquet make you poetic? Miss Pedronela."

The man said, did he recognize himself?

"No, I would rather go down and climb the mountain of demon corpses again than stay here for one more minute." She said maliciously, writing a vicious evaluation of the banquet in her hand.

"How did you recognize me? Mr. Anthony."

"Your hair, gray hair is rare, and even fewer will bring a notebook into the banquet, not to mention that your book has a faint smell of blood."

He smiled, "It's in your hair too. You haven't washed it out yet, right? By the way, how did you recognize me? Is my disguise so poor?"

"Not many people here have been as close to you as I have been, and remember the smell of that perfume you wore, Mr. Anthony."

Pedronela said, writing the last line of the sentence and picking up the pen, "Why are you here? Do you like this party?"

"Well, it's indeed quite interesting, but compared to the others, it's already boring to me. Are you right too?" He showed a faint smile under his mask, "How about you? Elope with me to the meeting?"

Pedroniela also smiled and pointed with her pen at the woman not far away who was watching what to do from time to time. "Your female companion will be unhappy. I don't want to get involved in a trouble."

"Hahaha, don't worry about her. Besides, you have been involved in trouble a long time ago, right?" He smiled, with a hint of hint in his words, and Petronila did not answer.

After a moment, Anthony spoke again. He put down the wine glass in his hand, "Don't worry about her. She is very cute, but she also makes me tired. Tonight is still very long."

"Yes, what are your plans?" Pedronilla chose to answer. She acquiesced to his invitation, which made Anthony smile happily.

"There's a good place to go, come with me."

As he spoke, he took Pedronela's hand and left. When his lovely female companion realized that she had no time to shout or stop her, she saw Anthony leaving with Pedronela. She threw away the wine glass in her hand and turned around to push away. The unfortunate waiter walked away.

Pedronela didn't have much time to enjoy the jealousy of the woman just now. She followed Anthony out of the banquet hall and walked through the deserted ship corridor to the Path of Glory Gallery.

There are many paintings hanging here, and at this moment Anthony is standing in front of one, admiring the paintings with great interest, and Pedroneila also looks at the notebook in the painter's hand.

"You asked me to come here to admire these paintings?" she asked.

"I owe you a conversation, don't I? The Marshal asked you to ask me about the battle while we were in the building." He looked at the painting and said, "I thought, now is a good time. What could be better than sailing through the warp?" Which quiet moment is more suitable for a private meeting?”

"You are very poetic, Mr. Antony." Petronilla took off her mask and said, lifting the gray hair that fell around her ears. "Where does this plot come from? Hirtius' "Midnight March" "?"

"No, that's too sad. Hirtius's plays are all tragedies, and I like more hopeful plays, like Vardy's O Lover."

He looked with a smile and clasped his hands behind his back, "Oh, my dear, what makes you silent? What makes you silent and ignore my questions?"

"Because of a secret, an ulterior secret." Pedronela chanted in unison, as if she was performing a stage play, and Anthony seemed very satisfied with it.

"So, let's start this interview. Which paragraph should we start with?" Pedronilla asked, opening the notebook and placing the ink-stained pen on the page, but Anthony smiled and put the ink-stained pen on the page. The book was taken from her hand.

He asked Petronilla if he could read it, and the latter had no reason to refuse him, so he nodded. He flipped through a few pages and nodded in approval from time to time.

"Very interesting content, Miss Petronilla, with a unique and sharp vision. Tell me, do you always record facts in this way?" He flipped through the pages and asked, "No matter how ugly the truth is, will you choose to record the truth?"

"This is my mission."

"Even if it will bring you bad luck, will you pursue the truth? Even if you are not understood." He continued to ask.

Petronilla responded with a shrug. Seeing this, Anthony smiled and closed the record book and returned it to Petronilla. "Then, I want to tell you another story tonight. What do you think?"

"How can I object? You are so enthusiastic." Petronilla said with a smile, and Anthony also smiled slightly, then turned around and began to walk between the galleries.

He walked a few steps and then looked at a painting nearby. "Ah, the birth of hope, the work of Valm, describes the Emperor's epiphany after witnessing the chaos of the Age of Strife, and his determination to embark on a mission to save humanity."

"And the content of this painting is the Emperor's enlightenment. Look, the savage technological barbarians kneel around him and bow their heads in submission to him."

"And this one is"

"Malcador and the Emperor." Petronilla stepped forward and said, "This is a painting by Kaldifan, imagining the moment when the Emperor first met his companions. The Emperor showed his power to the backward people. He made springs emerge from the rocks and dispel sandstorms and clouds. They were terrified. Look, the woman's mouth is wide open."

"Among the crowd, only Malcador stepped forward and stretched out his hand to the Emperor, implying enlightenment and the beginning of unification." She said, Anthony smiled at her with relief, and then continued to walk forward.

"That was indeed the beginning. The Emperor gradually met more like-minded people and planned for the rise of mankind. Look, this painting shows the Emperor meditating and thinking about the great cause of human rejuvenation in the middle of the night. In the distance is the Himalayas, which contain great wisdom." He pointed to another painting, "And this is the Marshal joining the Emperor's army, the Imperial Guards cheering behind them, and many ordinary people following them, but there are some empty seats in this painting, some... unnatural empty seats." He smiled and said, "You have been with the Marshal for a long time. Did he tell you who was in those empty seats?" Petronilla looked at him in silence, and after a long time, he spoke, "I didn't ask him about the story of the Unification War." "Did he not ask, or did he hide something?" Anthony asked back. This time Petronilla didn't answer, and he didn't expect it, and continued to walk. "Hmm, you see, that painting is of the Emperor and twenty Primarchs, twenty, not nine, isn't it interesting? Do you know the people in this painting?"

"They all look the same."

"Indeed, they are just like a group of ordinary babies, but they have great power. Have you ever wondered where their power comes from?" he asked, "Why haven't such powerful beings existed at other times in human history?"

"They are the blood of the Emperor, the offspring of the God-Emperor, and they are beyond mortals."

"The God-Emperor? It's really interesting. If he is a god, where does he come from? Heaven, or like us, born from the mother's womb?"

Anthony continued, and came to the next painting and pondered it sideways, "Astartes, an extraordinary angel, you see, people kneel down and surrender to him, but why?"

"Because he has extraordinary power?" Petronilla answered casually.

"Indeed, it is undeniable, but where does it come from?"

"The blood of the Emperor? They are the blood of the Emperor and the Primarch, and their strength and wisdom are far superior to mortals."

"Then why can't mortals become angels? Or should we ask, aren't these angels ordinary people? Before they were implanted with gene seeds, then, what is the difference between angels and mortals? Because they were implanted with gene seeds?"

"Maybe they were chosen? Candidates for Astartes must be gifted, one in a million." She followed behind, looking at the angel with his head held high among the crowd.

"One in a million? Just like the Emperor? From trillions of people, a savior emerged, leading mankind to a redeemed tomorrow?"

"I think so. The Emperor is different. He is the most powerful psychic, an eternal and immortal being. There is probably no other person like him among humans."

"Immortals, is that what you want to say?" Anthony raised his head and glanced at the portraits of the Emperors on the side. "Immortals are indeed one in a million, but have you ever thought about it? In such a long history of mankind, is there only one Immortal, the Emperor?"

He said, and his words made Petronilla feel uneasy.

"Where did the other Immortals go? Why didn't they become the saviors of tens of thousands of people?" He smiled.

"Why did he create only the Primarchs and Space Marines? What did he do?"

"What do you want to say?"

"A story, Miss Petronilla, a true story." His face turned cold, like an icy mountain.

"The Emperor lied to us, he lied to everyone."