Warhammer Inquisitor

The voyage to Victoria is very long, it is far away at the other end of the limit star field, at the other end of the big rift that spans the entire star, and considering the subspace interference caused by the big rift today, the fleet must go around to the south node galaxy, and then jump to the other side.

This also caused the voyage to be significantly lengthened, and during this voyage everyone had to find something to do for themselves, the soldiers began more training, and the Astartes would also spend significantly more time in the training cages and weapon rooms lengthened.

As for the preachers, they took this opportunity to hold a special dance party. The reason why they said it was special is because it was a masquerade ball, and everyone wore masks to hide their real identities and sing poems Fu, dancing with each other, very characteristic of them, isn't it?

Many people were in a good mood tonight. The speakers enjoyed this romantic and literary banquet very much, but Petronilla didn't. She didn't like this kind of boring banquet at all.

There are only flatterers and sycophants and awkward flirting, the drinks taste like mosquito piss, and the food at the table is bland and scant and doesn't fill you up on tiny plates.

So Petronila doesn't like this kind of dance at all. Since she came in, she has tried her best to get rid of several flirting and boring conversations. Fortunately, she is wearing a mask now, otherwise her identity will be exposed. It is estimated that the sycophants flocked even more.

Petronila took out the writing book from her arms. She flipped through the contents and wrote some pungent words. At this moment, a shadow shrouded her book.

"Didn't the banquet tonight make you poetic, Miss Petronilla?"

The man said, he recognized himself?

"No, I'd rather go down and climb the Devil's Corpse Mountain again than stay here for one more minute." She said maliciously, writing a vicious evaluation of this banquet in her hand.

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

"Your hair, gray hair is rare, and there are even fewer people who will enter the banquet with a notebook, not to mention that there is a faint smell of blood on this book."

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

"There are not many people here who have been as close to you as I am. I remember the smell of this perfume you use, Mr. Anthony."

Petronilla wrote the last sentence and picked up the pen, "Why did you come here? Did you like this banquet?"

"Well, it's really interesting, but compared to the others, I'm already bored, are you right?" He smiled faintly under his mask, "How? Elope to the meeting with me?"

Petronila also smiled, and pointed at the woman not far away, who was watching from time to time, "Your female partner will be unhappy, I don't want to get involved in a trouble."

"Hahaha, don't worry about her. Besides, you have already been involved in trouble, right?" He smiled, with a hint of hint in his words, and Petronilla didn't answer.

After a while, Anthony spoke again, and 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, then what are your plans?" Petronilla chose to answer the conversation, and she acquiesced to his invitation, which made Anthony smile happily.

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

As he spoke, he took Petronilla's hand and left. His lovely female companion realized that there was no time to speak, or stopped him, and seeing Anthony leave with Petronilla, she threw away the wine glass in her hand and turned away. The unfortunate waiter walked away.

Petronilla didn't have much time to enjoy the woman's jealousy just now. She followed Anthony out of the banquet hall and walked through the empty hull corridor to the Glory Road Gallery.

There are many picture scrolls hanging here, and at this moment Anthony is standing in front of one, admiring the painting with great interest, and Petronila also looked at the painting and slapped the notebook in his 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 I was in the building." He looked at the painting and said, "I thought, now is a good time, what better time than navigating the warp What about the quiet moments that are more suitable for private meetings?"

"You are very poetic, Mr. Anthony." Petronella said, taking off his mask, and brushing up the gray hair that fell beside his ear, "Where does this plot come from? Hirtius' "Midnight Parade" "?"

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

He smiled and looked, with his hands behind his back, "Oh, my dear, what kept you silent, what kept you silent and ignored my question?"

"Because of a secret, an ulterior secret." Petronilla muttered cooperatively, as if performing that stage play, and Anthony seemed very satisfied with it.

"So, let's start this interview, where do we start?" Petronilla asked, flipping open the notebook and putting an ink-stained pen on the page, but Anthony smiled and took the paragraph. The book was taken from her hand.

He indicated to Petronila whether he could read it, but the latter had no reason to refuse him, so he nodded, and he nodded approvingly from time to time as he flipped through a few pages.

"Very exciting content, Ms. Petronila, with a unique and pungent vision, tell me, do you always describe the facts like this?" He flipped through the pages and asked, "No matter how ugly the truth is, you will choose to write down the truth ?"

"This is my mission."

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

Petronilla responded with a shrug. Seeing this, Anthony smiled and covered the notebook, and returned it to Petronilla, "So, 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, then turned around and started walking between the galleries.

He walked a few steps, and then looked at a painting beside him, "Ah, hope is born, Varm's writings, describing the emperor's epiphany after witnessing the chaos of the era of strife, so he decided to embark on the mission of saving mankind." road."

"And this painting is about the Emperor's enlightenment, and behold, the savage technological barbarians kneel around him, bowing their heads before him."

"And this pair is"

"Malcador and the Emperor." Petronilla stepped forward and said, "This is a painting by Caldivan. I imagined the moment when the Emperor met his companions for the first time. The Emperor showed himself to the backward people. He made springs spring from the rocks, and drove sandstorms and clouds, so that they were terrified, and you see, the woman's mouth opened wide."

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

"That was indeed the beginning. The emperor gradually met more like-minded people, and planned for the rise of mankind. You see, this painting is the emperor's deep thinking, meditating in the middle of the night for the great cause of human revival. In the distance is The Himalayas, there is great wisdom there."

He pointed to another painting, "And this is His Excellency the Field Marshal joining the Emperor's army, the Custodians cheering and cheering behind them, and many ordinary people following them, but there are some empty spaces in this painting, some... unnatural empty spaces. "

He smiled and looked, "During the time you spent with the marshal, did he tell you who was in those vacant seats?"

Petronilla looked at him silently, and only spoke after a long time, "I didn't ask him about the story of the unification war." "Did I not ask, or did he hide something?"

Anthony asked back, but this time Petronilla did not answer, and he continued to walk as if he had no hope.

"Hmm, look, that painting is the Emperor with twenty Primarchs, twenty, not nine, interesting isn't it? Do you know the people in this painting?"

"They all look the same."

"Indeed, they are like a group of ordinary babies, but they contain great power. Have you ever wondered where their power comes from?" He asked, "Why is there no such powerful existence in human history?" Did other moments exist?"

"They are the blood of the emperor, the sons of the god emperor, beyond mortals."

"The Emperor? That's interesting. If he is a god, where did he come from? Heaven, or, like us, born from a mother's womb?"

Anthony continued to talk, and came to the next painting and pondered sideways, "Astarte, the extraordinary angel, you see, people kneel and submit to him, but why?"

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

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

"The blood of the Emperor? They are the blood of the Emperor and the Primarch, far stronger and wiser than mortals."

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

"Maybe they were chosen? Candidates for the Astartes must be exceptionally talented, one in a million." She followed behind, looking at the angel with its head raised among the crowd.

"One in a million? Just like the emperor? A savior emerged from trillions of people, leading mankind to a tomorrow of salvation?"

"I think so. The Emperor is different. He is the most powerful psyker, an eternal and immortal existence, and there is no second person in human beings."

"Immortals, is this what you want to say?" Anthony raised his head, and he turned to the portraits of the emperors beside him, "The Immortals are indeed one in a billion, but, have you thought about it? In the long river of history, is there only one immortal, the Emperor?"

He said the words made Petronilla uneasy.

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

"Why, he alone created the Primarch and the Space Marines? What did he do?"

"what do you want to say in the end?"

"A story, Miss Petronilla, a true story." His face turned cold, like a mountain of ice.

"The Emperor lied to us, he, to all of us."