Warhammer 40K: Shattered Steel Soul

Perturabo

Alas, the more I read to the end, the more I feel that the author of Shattered Steel Soul really can't hold on anymore. The writing style and arrangement are getting more and more messy. If the negative emotions this book brings to him are far greater than the benefits, maybe giving up is the best choice. After all, more than 20 Primarchs with completely different personalities and relationships from the original work + the Black King/Four Gods/All Forces/Eternals/Astartes are messing around. The battles in all aspects + the direction of the war/the direction of future generations are completely different from the original work. It is indeed difficult to write. It can be seen that the author likes a delicate and metaphorical writing style. This also leads to the various metaphors, metaphors, emotional descriptions and the description of the actual war direction in the later period. There is no good balance. Many plot arrangements reflect a very forced feeling, which may be the limit of personal ability. The Luojia line, the Magnus line, and the early Perturabo line are still very exciting. In this book, Luojia has the beauty of a villain more (affirmation from the followers of Slaanesh). The author performed very well when writing personal short stories or novellas, but when it came to the big melee, he seemed unable to do what he wanted. I really like the handling of the book when Angron was rescued. Unfortunately, after rescuing Angron, he almost didn't see Angron displaying his ability as a psychiatrist. If Angron could comfort Luojia, maybe things would be different. But it is also understandable that this part of what role a psychologist can play is too uncontrollable and there is no reference material. I hope the author can still live a good life. I will not forget Magnus and Luojia in this book. I am also grateful to the author who created these two characters. I wish you happiness.

Although it is a eunuch, the subsequent parts are worth watching in terms of writing and plot arrangement. Overall, it is relatively less grim and dark, it is good for the heart, and the relationship between the original bodies is handled very well. I like this brother-friendship! The cross talk of the civil engineering team's prophecy team was 10 or even 9 out of 10 good! What is relatively lacking may be the description of war, but there is obvious improvement in the middle and later stages. Damn, the Dantioch part made me cry. Although it's a eunuch, I still recommend reading! ... Although he is a eunuch!

Fans of civil warriors come uninvited Army of Steel Heroes of Steel Will of Steel Armor of Steel Dark Judgment Annihilation War The team is made of steel Thousands of battles, big and small The battles are famous A few miles away Conquer The aliens were frightened and panicked Four battles with space rats Famous throughout the country Four battles with space rats Famous throughout the country The harder we fight, the harder we fight and the stronger we become Follow the great human emperor Hey! March forward bravely!

I'll keep it for now. I thought this book would be free of the cesspool of Heresy. But it turns out that 90% of Warhammer 30-40k books have The Heresy. When will the Heresy be over? Can someone please help @me? Thank you.

After a long, long time, there was a bad-tempered, heartbroken little prince who wandered to a planet that looked like his hometown. He knew that this was not his hometown, and he even watched it decline, but the little prince didn't care. He hadn't cared about it for a long time. He kept making things day after day, but they were all half-finished products. Until one day, a rose fell from the sky - just a seedling, not yet blooming. Its branches are iron-colored, its leaves shine with a metallic luster, have jagged edges, and are covered with thorns. At first, the little prince didn't like this rose that much... It was too stubborn, and it looked like it needed him to light the stove and beat it carefully. And he has been tired for too long and never wants to light any more flames. But it was indeed a rose, not a weed, some vulgar ashes or a pile of waste, even though his last gardener didn't seem to be very clever and did not cultivate the rose like a flower... But it was indeed a rose, and he could not turn a blind eye. This rose is spoiled and has a terrible temper - coincidentally, they are the same. He couldn't refuse such a rose, so he began to carefully remove its thorns, even if he pricked his fingers with its claws. He tied his branches with a spell and forced them to grow again, causing the rose to scream in anger. He removed the caterpillars, leaving a few so that the rose could learn how to get along with others. He covered him with a glass cover - so that the rose could only slowly grow up little by little in the small glass cover. As a child, as a small flower, it should not bloom too early. Until the rose learns that every thorn is only to defend itself rather than hurt others, and every bend of the branch is no longer crooked, but carefully crafted on the original basis. Some of the caterpillars died, but one became a butterfly to accompany him. As for the glass cover, when Rose faced Xingyu, the little prince naturally removed this protection. The little prince traveled with roses, and he naturally met more roses. Fiery red and soft, a rose with the magic of changing colors. Entrusted with an important task, Rose is subtly connected to his past. Loud, fluffy—wait, does that count as a rose? There are also stone-like, hard gray roses. But these are not his roses. His roses have metallic-colored iron-like leaves, branches that are naturally crooked, and petals that can cut others... This is his rose. It may not be good enough, it may have flaws, but this is his rose. It was he who dewormed him, watered him, trimmed his leaves and branches, and put a glass cover on him. Even when he entered the stars, he also prepared small flower pots for the roses, so that the roses who were unwilling to be honest did not have to be separated from him even if they didn't say anything. This is his rose, the rose he has taken care of for so long and wandered with. What's more - even if Perturabo is indeed not a rose. But many, many years ago, even longer than now, Morse was really a little prince. —————————— A bit of divergence based on my personal filter with no internal logic... As an aside, Teacher Mo is the most beautiful of all the protagonists I have read so far... Although there should be no distinction between beauty and ugliness in paper people, they are all beauties, but the superimposition of attributes such as long black eyes, fair skin, poisonous tongue and laziness has become firmly linked in my mind with the charming beauty... Don't scold me, I'm fragile, I can rat (crawl away)

I don't know why I drew this weird thing. But if one day I am chased by the Iron Warriors and cut down for eighteen streets in the subspace, then I deserve it. (slowly close eyes)

Three family alliance (I actually posted this to three places (There are too few updates to see me crawling around) I thought the attitudes of the three of them were interesting together from a certain angle, so I drew this It's the canned version of Hades; Midnight Khalil in Blade; Morse in this book Are there any spoilers? Yes and no I like these three books very much and hope everyone will read them toohhhhh

A strange fantasy if line: Distribute a starting boy mother to each of the other primarchs except Guilliman, and the empire will have a bright future🤔 Maybe it is cultural differences. If the English Warhammer fans I read have original characters, they generally do not play the role of leader. Don't they think that the primarch needs to use childhood to heal his life? After all, this is Warhammer.

It's still Master Mo whom I understand, and the clothes are reference (The unknown object in his hand is a simple carving knife

I can't help but laugh. It seems that everyone is worried about Old Man Huang's parenting style. Look, this is the first fanfic of the Nourishing Body 😂

Has been added to the list of Iron Warriors to expedite the suppression of rebellion (x)

Overall I don't know what I drew, but next time someone will have an awl cut into the jaw

Hahahahaha I wanted to see My Little Pony yesterday hahahaha (Suddenly I found out that I can connect to ponies, so I immediately)

I thought Khalil was invincible. Whose general is this?

A deep nightmare...! (Referring to Peppa Pig＊20

Warhammer co-IP founder Bryan ansell passed away on December 30, 2023. May his soul return to the Golden Throne. He has not left us. He just went to enjoy life in the Warhammer world

A silly family joke, "Even if you guess it all, I'm not the one who's embarrassed."Jpg Perturabo's eyes widened. In front of him, next to Morse's unused body, a child who looked like he was only two or three years old was crying. Even stranger than this sight, which should not have appeared on the battleship at all, was that he seemed to be able to sense some connection between the child and Morse. ... How is it that, while Morse was busy with the expedition and dealing with affairs in Terra, he still found time to give birth to a child without his knowledge? When did he have this interest? No, this is impossible. Compared with these, the attacks from those four garbage have stopped this time, and the situation in the real universe has stopped. Why hasn't Morse come back yet? He turned around in the room and carefully reached out, intending to pick up the child. His hand passed through the animal skin the child was wrapped in. The child looked at him warily and howled like a wolf. A child who grew up among wolves... Fragments of memories began to surface, and Perturabo fell into disbelief. "Oh, of course I'm happy to help, brother," Russ grinned, "As long as you let me hear the story of this wolf child who was also raised by a wolf mother later." "…I'm afraid this must be done with his own consent." Perturabo said with difficulty. Ruth touched his chin and raised his eyebrows, "Oh, okay... Well, having said that, I'm afraid I can't guarantee success. After all, my wolf mother is dead, and my wolf brother is a warrior after all, you understand? What's more... " "It doesn't matter, let's give it a try first." "Kili! It's up to you!" The giant wolf of Fenris appeared in the holographic image and purred softly at the grinning child in the corner. The child hesitated for a moment and walked slowly towards the big wolf. He could walk, Perturabo noted, rather than simply imitate the pace of the beast. The wolf and the child barked one after another. The child walked closer to the Fenris wolf, wrinkled his nose, and suddenly fell into something close to doubt. In the next minute, accompanied by several exchanges that no normal human being could understand, the child rushed back to the closet from which he came out, and finally roared and closed the door tightly. Ruth scratched his head, squatted down and touched Kili's back, and explained: "... Well, to put it simply... This child found that our "accent" is wrong and he is not a wolf from the same tribe as him, so... I'm sorry, brother." "I understand, thank you, Russ." Perturabo said numbly. After Keely stopped making noise, the child also fell silent behind the closet door, but the threatening howl still echoed in his ears. If everything is really as he vaguely guessed just now... This child... Perturabo suddenly trembled all over, quickly covered his mouth, glanced at the scene, and coughed dryly: "Anyway, I will find other ways to deal with it." Ruth laughed wildly. "Huh? Conrad?" "I saw... Ah, yes, yes!" Curze waved, his eyes quickly falling on the wardrobe with a crack, "I saw the figure of the child, I think you may have encountered a little trouble, my brother." His prediction actually worked once, it was really surprising. "So, do you have any advice for me?" Perturabo looked at the eyes exposed in the crack of the closet door and sighed. The child used psychic energy to maintain the position of the cabinet door... Yes, of course he could just open the wardrobe and lift the child out to place it, but... For some reason, he subconsciously avoided any drastic action. "Why don't you ask our Almighty Father?" "Almighty Father? When did you use this term to describe him?" "Don't act like Rogal Dorn! This is just a... Yes, a fixed match." "Okay, I don't mean to interfere with your secret. Mo, Conrad. But I think I can always find a way..." "Even if you ask other people, there will be no better way." "... Is this your prediction?" "Okay, thank you for your suggestion." Do you really want to go find your father... Oh, forget it, since he really can't think of a good way, it's not shameful to ask for help. He closed his eyes and quickly exchanged information with himself in the palace. When he opened his eyes, he heard a soft call. The golden psychic energy took the form of a wolf, wandering in his room, smaller but more elegant than the wild wolves of Fenris. The child looked out from the gap for a while and opened the closet door. The wolf walked over, and Perturabo saw tenderness, vicissitudes of life, a hint of smile, and even a little bit of holiness in its outstretched paws and open wolf kiss, which made him start to doubt his own mental state. After exchanging several tentative greetings in the language unique to wolves, the child - who now had confirmation from the Emperor that he was Morse regressing into toddlerhood - finally chuckled, opened his hands to the wolf, and called out: "Mama!" ... Wait a minute... Perturabo suddenly realized that generally speaking, this golden light would be the incarnation of his father... But why is it his mother... The wolf grabbed the back of little Morse's neck and disappeared quickly, leaving only a few light spots in Perturabo's room. He involuntarily began to quickly recall the physical characteristics of the wolf, and for the first time in horror, he deeply hated his curiosity and memory at the level of the original body: Various signs showed that maybe, maybe, or maybe, it was really a female wolf.

Warhammer's unique cheap biological father and expensive adoptive father

Brothers, we have fallen into a myth. In order to pursue the rewards of the genetic father, we began to overstack beauty, trying to make our greatest achievement a gorgeous work of art. This has deviated from the mission given to us by our father and even the empire. We return a world to the Empire with another Olympia, not another Iron Warriors monument to conquest. So I put this residential building in the gallery, and then I will separately apply to the original body for permission to actually make a model of this picture and place it at the entrance of the gallery, as a reminder before every Iron Warrior steps into this gallery. Remind us of our responsibilities. ——The speech notes found in the relics of the war blacksmith Defes. Perturabo later made the model himself, placed a monument of this speech next to it, and named this group of works "Original Intention"

The Primarch Perturabo is cold-blooded and mean by nature. He is one of the few Primarchs who has fatherly love and grew up in a normal environment. However, he has absolutely no response or repayment to the people who love him. Except for his sworn sister, he has no regard for anyone. He can be said to be the most disgusting, self-blaming and least worthy of sympathy. I feel that he is the most difficult child to raise and educate, just like the cool, arrogant and mean naughty children in the real world.

*The manuscript was requested by book friend Pai Daxing* *Perturabo and War Blacksmith Nador* *Thanks to Pai Daxing ORZ*

Perturabo picked up a stack of papers, looked at them for a moment, and then put them down. Strange speculations swirled in his mind, making it difficult for the great Primarch to concentrate. No, Perturabo, don't think about it. It is an instinct for a child to call mother. Among various languages, the only way to call mother is so similar. Children who grow up in a pack of wolves must not be able to tell the difference so clearly, so it is normal to call the one closest to them mother... - But it seems that it is really a female wolf. ... Think carefully, Perturabo, is this really what your glorious and majestic father could do? Maybe you saw it wrong? After all, it was just a glimpse in the memory. Even the original body is likely to have memory deviation... Right? Perturabo tried to recall the several meetings between himself and the Emperor. But the memory of the last time the Emperor gave a serious speech to the greenskins in the webway and was worshiped by the greenskins as a golden man did not so much enhance his understanding of the Emperor's majestic image as it further encouraged his speculation. Okay, okay, Perturabo said to himself, after all, the Emperor is someone who can become old friends with someone like Morse. Morse can put his body on and off like clothes all day long, so the Emperor may not care too much about some details. Perhaps the Emperor was very familiar with Morse's childhood, so he conjured up a scene that was most reassuring to him... No, after all, why would the Emperor know this? What kind of old friend would know the accent of wolf language in which Morse's wolf mother communicates? Perturabo was not some fanatic who would simply think, "Because that's the Emperor, of course He can do anything." No, I can't think about it anymore. Perturabo picked up the document at hand again. It is better to wait for news from the Emperor. At the palace, Perturabo waited patiently, guarding the Emperor's body. After a long time, a ball of golden light emerged from the void, but it did not stay. Instead, it passed by his eyes and rushed into the next room. "... Father?" The original body's top-notch hearing helped him capture the faint cries and gentle soothing sounds of the children in the room. After a while, the emperor responded to him: "It's not a big problem. I need some time to check on Morse's condition. You can go deal with things on the webway first." "Can you let me witness your diagnosis?" "I will call you. Go, you will need to spend time taking care of Morse later. Finish today's matters first." The door of that room was closed in front of him. The Emperor's will is absolute. Perturabo had no choice but to obey the order with one step and three turns. ... However, after synchronizing his memory with the entity on the other side of the galaxy, his worries turned into a kind of shock with doubts. After fooling the fourth team of greenskins away, Perturabo finally received the summons again and rushed into a certain room. "... You mean, he needs to grow up again???" "Yes." Perturabo's eyes darkened, how many years had it been... And, having lost the memory of the past and starting to grow up again from a toddler, would Morse still be the same person in his memory? "But don't worry," the Emperor added, "This is not growth in nature, but recovery. Every time he sleeps, he will return to his next life node." That's about it. Perturabo breathed a sigh of relief and followed the Emperor to open a door and come to Morse's bedroom. After only half a day of separation, the crying toddler had disappeared - a trace of inexplicable regret flashed through Perturabo's heart - the figure of the young man on the bed looked to be in his teens, so all he had to do was... Uh... "Morse is... Several thousand years old? Or tens of thousands of years old?" " Thirty thousand years. But the most important point in a person's life is often at the beginning of his life. I think it will only take a few weeks for him to recover - ah, but I think you need to urgently learn the language he speaks at this time." Perturabo nodded repeatedly, accepting the knowledge transmitted to his mind. When he felt that he had almost mastered this ancient language, his eyes caught the boy's slight movements. He opened his mouth to call out, but suddenly realized that the name "Morse" probably did not exist in the minds of craftsmen of this period. "Remus." The Emperor looked back and called calmly as if he felt something. "Mom..." The boy murmured while half asleep, his hands broke free from the thin blanket and groped for something. The Emperor sighed, gently pressed his hand, patted it, and called the name again. "Um, um... Are you here, mother...?" The young man struggled hard for a moment and then opened his eyes. Soon, he realized the appearance adopted by the emperor at the moment, as well as the other presence in the room, and quickly changed his words: "... Uh, I mean... Teacher." The emperor remained silent, as if denying, but also acquiescing. Perturabo lowered his head, trying not to think about the she-wolf. The young man slowly sat up against the head of the bed, rubbed his eyes, as if he had just woken up, and looked around, first cautiously looking at the emperor's appearance, then Perturabo's tall figure, and finally this splendid, fragrant room, showing a bit of restrained shock. It was a rare opportunity to see Morse like this. Now that it was confirmed that Morse could recover, Perturabo couldn't help but feel a little leisurely, secretly regretting that he didn't bring any video equipment. "... It's me. I'm here." The Emperor nodded gently to him. In the gaze, the young Morse-Remus took off the defense caused by the unfamiliar sight and relaxed again. "Okay, although I have known for a long time that you are not an ordinary person," he said in a deeply shocked voice, "could this be... Your temple?" * "I am not a god." The emperor's conditioned reflex was as smooth as silk, "This is just my... Palace." Morse nodded, and his expression showed that he was even more confused: "Suddenly he thought of bringing me here for something... By the way, where is my brother? Did you bring him too?" The room suddenly fell into silence. "Romulus is not here. It has been many years now. You have been cursed and lost your memory, and you are now in the process of gradually recovering. This is Perturabo, your student, and he will take care of you." The Emperor said simply, patted Mors on the shoulder, stood up quickly, and disappeared from the room. Perturabo and his mentor, who had returned to youth, looked at each other. "... Hello, Perturabo." "Hello, Maul... I mean, Remus." "Who is that? Is it the name I use now?" The boy looked interested. "Yes," Perturabo coughed lightly. Out of some inexplicable timidity, he failed to tell the other party that the name was his own masterpiece. "Before... The teacher said," the young man paused, choosing a suitable title, "Have you ever learned from me?" "I have always been your student, although you sometimes claim that I have already graduated." Petulabot paused, holding back the heat rising on her cheeks, and insisted on speaking word by word, "You are the best teacher." Morse looked at him for a long time, digesting the new information and deep understanding. Qinghouyi: "That's really surprising. What do I teach?" "Smelting, carving, shaping... Various arts, but the most important thing is being a human being-well, do you want to see those works of mine?" "Of course." Peturabo walked briskly and briefly introduced to Morse every design and decoration they passed by in the palace, especially those related to them. Unfortunately, most of the works he created to this day remain on ships and memorials. Fortunately, his artistry allowed him to keep some small works created in his spare time in his room in the palace. Projections are used to display electronic versions of various drawings he had made before, as well as photos of the city after its construction was completed. Even the exercises Morse left behind when he coached the Iron Warriors were turned out to prove that he was indeed an excellent mentor. They had a hurried dinner of burritos and watched late into the night. Perturabo turned off the projection, and Morse put his hand down from the front of the screen: "A very powerful work, Perturabo. I can't imagine such a skill now... I must be lucky to have a student like you." Peturabo puffed out his chest again and coughed dryly: "Well... Thank you for your compliment, Morse. I want this. Shameful, after all, you still only have more than ten years of memory, and this is the result of my continuous training and your guidance. When I was a teenager, you had many flaws in my works." "Oh? Can I take a look?" "Uh, that one didn't stay..." Perturabo's eyes became wandering. "Okay," Morse shrugged, "Even if he showed it to me, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to give any guidance like my future self. In my memory, I only learned how to carve stone for two or three years, and the shaping of steel... He promised to teach me, but he only taught me once now, and I haven't made anything yet. What a satisfying finished product." "Then you will learn it and do it well in the future - one of your finished products is standing in front of you now." Morse thought about the difference in style, his eyes turned around the room, and finally fell back on Perturabo. "——Yes, I am the steel shaped by your hands." "... This is indeed a finished product that makes me proud." Morse looked at him and smiled. *Morse is not a superstitious person, but imagine his perspective: you are an ancient Greek, you remember that you are a teenager this year, and your mother can change into a wolf, a human, or a transgender. One day you open your eyes and find yourself in a gorgeous palace with an architectural style you have never seen before, and there is a four-meter-tall giant opposite you...

After chatting with the prophet this week, I feel frustrated, so let's just post the original text of the chat record "Secondly, considering that I am still half an author, let me talk about my novel itself; It is basically impossible for me to complete it in a normal form. No longer worrying about balancing the boundaries between business and literature, in fact I can't do both well; the whole process brought me almost entirely negative emotions, and I realized that I had to make my half-truths and self-righteous explanations public, and I was entangled in other people's negative evaluations and dissatisfied with other people's positive evaluations; I don't have any creativity that I can truly call a flash of inspiration, and I have little interest in many plots that can arouse the love of others. I don't like to use novels for fun, and I don't read online novels myself. However, I can't produce truly bright and layered content; this is very Bad. As the story must progress, the writing has become lengthy and the writing has been dragged out to a level that I cannot tolerate; and the most unfortunate thing is that even this level is beyond my ability to complete now. There are some shining points that I can no longer touch; when I tried to continue writing, I found that I didn't know how to write, couldn't conceive of the plot, and couldn't think of words; it seemed that all the words and emotions for the story had left me. Either I ended the story in a detached form, or it would never end. I will probably never write any more stories from now on. This is a failed work experience for me, and I probably resigned from the novel..."

I'm speechless. So many readers affirm his writing style, so they just put aside this self-concerned "I'm not right" and then become a eunuch, Feiwu

1. If I am a traveler in Olympia: ("If I am a traveler on a winter night" by Calvino) Therefore, I often end up suffering in vain. ("The Decameron" (Boccaccio): It is a virtue to have sympathy for the unfortunate. Everyone should have this virtue - especially those who have longed for sympathy and experienced the value of sympathy. If anyone has suffered the sympathy of others, I have been comforted by love, and therefore appreciate the value of this affection, so I am indeed one. From my youth to the present, I have always loved a person extremely passionately; speaking of it, she is so noble, I am afraid that I am not worthy of her. When the gentlemen heard about my love, they valued me and praised me, but they didn't know how much torture I endured for this love. It was not because my lover was too hard-hearted and made me sad, but because I was delusional and had an uncontrollable desire burning in my chest. It is impossible to achieve perfection, so I often end up suffering in vain) 2. A party for a farewell: ("A party for a farewell" by Milan Kundera) In this way, he lives in his immortality. ("Immortal" (Milan Kundera): In my childhood I visited a Moravian village every Sunday; it is said that the mayor of this village kept an uncovered coffin in the living room of his house, and at the right moments when he felt particularly satisfied with himself, he would lie down in this coffin and imagine his own funeral. The best moments of his life were none other than this. Lying in a coffin and dreaming: just like that, he lives in his immortality.) 3. The story of the quarrel between the Primarch and the Primarch: ("The Story of the Quarrel between Ivan Ivanovich and Ivan Nikiforovich" Gogol) I feel it is my responsibility to state in advance that the events described in this novel belong to a very strange era. Moreover, it is completely fabricated by Xiangbi. This is absolutely not the case in the Milky Way now. The planet had a new look; the dunes outside the city had long been planted with potatoes, and all the people, whether Primarchs, Astartes, or craftsmen, were respectable and well-intentioned people. ("The Story of Ivan...": I feel it is my responsibility to state in advance that the events described in this novel belong to a very ancient era. And, they are completely fictitious. This is no longer the case in Mirgorod. The houses have a new look; the puddles in the city have long dried up, and all official officials Members, whether they are judges, juries, or mayors, are respectable and well-intentioned people.) 4. To the Lighthouse: ("To the Lighthouse" by Virginia Woolf) They always let expectations for the future, with all kinds of joy and sorrow, envelope everything in front of them. For these people, even in their early childhood, every slight turn of the wheel of feeling is enough to affect and shock the moment before them, casting a dark or brilliant color on it. ("To the Lighthouse") 5. Tonight's story: When he saw me staggering towards him, like a blind conductor, stretching out my hands to conduct a crazy orchestra, I don't know what he thought. At the moment before his brain collapsed, his hands suddenly waved in the air. I don't know what he thought. I know what I am thinking. I thought I had looked beyond the limits of the universe and I saw the fire of hell. (Should be adapted from a certain short story by Stephen King, I forgot the details) 6. As You Like It: ("As You Like It" by Shakespeare) You two will never abandon each other in times of adversity. (Adapted from Everybody Likes It) 7. The General in the Labyrinth: ("The General in the Labyrinth" Marquez) He is always on the front line when fighting, but he has never suffered even a small scratch on his skin. He moved under enemy fire with an almost absurd composure. His nonchalant attitude was not due to confusion or fatalism, but to the certainty that he would die as expected and would need no comfort from public admiration. ("The General in the Labyrinth": He commanded countless battles on the battlefield filled with bullets, but he did not even get a scratch on his skin. He was so calm and composed in the flames of war, and his mind was so unbelievable that his The officers believed he was invulnerable and time and again he escaped plots to kill him, several times because he did not sleep in his own bed. He often acted on his own without guards. No matter where he goes, he never worries about what he is given to eat or drink. Only Manuela knows that his carelessness is not because of his ignorance and rashness, nor because he is a fatalist, but because of his sad belief that he will be there in the future. He will die in poverty, naked, and without the understanding of the people) 8. Paradise Lost ("Paradise Lost" by John Milton) Revenge belongs to him, or to whom he appoints. 9. The Pilgrim's Progress ("The Pilgrim's Progress" by John Bunyan) They told me that many people had tried to go that way in the past, seeking glory there, and they were always talking about the glory. But as a result, they came back in despair and gained nothing, and their gains were not even as heavy as a feather. ("Pilgrim's Progress") 10. False emperors should be punished: If God does not exist, everything is allowed. ——Dostoyevsky

Alas, what a pity and deplorable thing that such a masterpiece came to an abrupt end like this.

This excerpt was customized by me to the Prophet. The original chat record is as follows: "I like Perturabo, not only for personal reasons, but also because I saw someone talking about the prototype being Hercules [Peturabo and Hercules, the Lion King and Arthur, Khan and Genghis Khan (But I feel more like the nomadic version of Guan Yu), Guilliman and Caesar] A broken oath to "bear suffering" with the goddess of virtue A broken oath to "bear everything" with the Emperor They all lost themselves in the Twelve Trials and the Great Crusade. I Hercules chose the path full of thorns mentioned by the goddess of virtue and abandoned pleasure The result was indeed almost crushed by reality Hera made him fall into a frenzy of killing his wife and daughter. He was also depressed during the twelve trials, and even tried to make up for the crime of killing his friends. Selling himself, wearing women's clothing to show off his achievements It is not so much that he accomplished those great deeds to realize his dream when he was young, but rather that the core has been unknowingly changed to the obsession of atonement He is completely different from the high-spirited Hercules in his youth. Just like Perturabo is drifting away from his former dreams I am thinking about the connection between the Primarch and these archetypes, including Morse as the founder of Rome but recalling Greece, what thoughts will he have But how to connect Perturabo and Heracles? "I haven't thought about it yet" So the prophet decided to let the pufferfish go to fgo2.5 Greek Lostbelt Yesterday I found the twelve trials of the HF setting set and put them here 1. Kill the Nemean Lion 2. Destroy the Hydra br>3. Capture the deer alive 4. Capture the Erymans wild boar alive 5. Shoot the strange bird 6. Bring back the bull from Crete 7. Clean the cowshed 8. Bring back the man-eating horses 9. Seize the belt of the God of War 10. Bring it back Geryon's herd 11. Fight against the hundred-headed dragon Ladon and capture the golden apple 12. Bring the three-headed hell dog out of hell

Every Glory Queen class ship is the crystallization of the skills of human beings, this young race that prospered prematurely, declined prematurely, but is igniting the fire of revival. Although compared to the streamlined and elegant ships of the Children of the Stars, with their etheric sails raised, this behemoth that can feel the slight vibration of the energy in the rough reactors flowing at super high speed in the countless pipelines no matter where you are - or as the cute red-haired singer innocently named it - the little midnight ark - seems slightly rough, Lilia , that is, the first pardoned daughter, the Baroness of the Red Hand, Lillia Ande Bardroll, who gave up her past family name and took "Judgement" in the ancient Eldar language as her new surname. She is the chief mortal servant of the Eighth Legion, the de facto second-in-command of the auxiliary army, the chief affairs officer of the legion, the jester of the royal court, and the original redeemer. She still has a heartfelt love for this behemoth. There is no other reason. Although like other Queens of Glory, the Nightshade is an industrial masterpiece based on the same STC template and has been customized with various personalized adjustments according to the user's requirements. However, its sophisticated pipeline system is wrapped in layers of fusion structures of flesh and blood and machinery that do not originate from human technology. The genetic information of these structures comes from the blood actors selected in the royal court, including Lilia of course. He sinks his now completely physical body deeply into the throne of flesh and blood created by his own genetics. This group has strong spine tentacles that can flexibly move, redundant and flexible auxiliary limbs and the soft tentacles stretched out from the twisted flesh of the extra hands are tightly attached to the flawless skin of his gene supplier. After being connected to the additional biosensors implanted under the skin, in the eyes of outsiders, there is not much difference from the additional prosthetics loved by the biochemical sages of the Mechanicum. It may be softer and more natural. And when it stretches out, wrapped in a rubber-textured skin and imitated as a cable, the flesh tentacles are connected to the countless interfaces on the wall of Lilia's personal cabin, the information from the enhanced biological components buried in the sensors, the eyeballs and hearing organs, and the special sensors integrated with the machinery will flow into the auxiliary brain on the throne of flesh and blood, and will be transmitted to Lilia's brain after unconscious preliminary processing. It was as if she had become one with this behemoth traveling across the planetary river. Who would despise his own flesh and blood? However, out of admiration and admiration for the Blood Marquis, Lilia did not set up direct surveillance in the living space belonging to the legion soldiers, auxiliary troops, and legion servants. At this moment, she was particularly grateful for her choice. As for worship and admiration... The First Pardoned Girl gently rolled her eyes with red irises. Yes, the worship and admiration for the Blood Marquis, for the cruel mercy, justice, the Lord of Midnight, the living dark muse still flowed in her heart, but for the slender body in front of her that had two mortals tall and slumped in her favorite place during working hours. She put the Olympia Princess on the couch and turned it into a small bench, and made the solid wood chair legs with the elegant pastoral scene relief emit a small protest sound that was not fatal but could not escape her ears. She always felt that it was more like a younger, intimate but helpless existence younger than herself, rather than the king and god she should obey. Maybe this is the inevitable result of spending all these years together. "So, why are you shorter than before?" This person who avoided many official duties, or in other words, threw many official duties that should have been handled by him to the poor legion commander and Lilia in an extremely orderly and fair manner. While using a small knife to cut an unknown number of skull sculptures, he lazily disturbed the chief affairs officer of the legion with irrelevant topics. "..." While placing the data pad on the table and waving gently with her other hand to slide the holographic screen suspended in front of her to both sides, the Bloody Hand Baroness stared straight into the dark eyes of the Lord of Midnight and replied in the same hissing language. : "Do you want to listen to the rational reasons first, or the emotional reasons?" "There are actually two reasons, rational and emotional. As expected of you." The huge and thin body leaned back shamelessly, putting on a deliberately attentive expression. "You might as well start with reason first, because I know you always have reasonable reasons." "... Humans and Eldar are very similar. Not only in appearance, but also in mentality." While tapping her fingers to take off the red iron gloves placed on the side of the table, the Bloody Hand Baroness's equally deliberately calm voice echoed in the space where there was only the faint ticking of the logic engine and the hum of the servo skull's anti-gravity engine. "In front of someone who seems to be in line with expectations and weaker than themselves, even the affairs officers of the Ministry of Government will instinctively show a little sense of superiority and self-conceited gentlemanly tolerance. For me, this is enough." "What about sensibility?" "I have never seen it in my life. I no longer want to curl up in the driver's seat of the car and stick my head in front of the steering wheel." The big pale hands cutting the creepy handicrafts couldn't help but stagnate, and then the hissing laughter of the sitting demigod was intertwined with the hum of the logic engine. Ignoring the interruption to her work that appeared in front of her every now and then in the past three days, the Bloody Hand Baroness drank the cold synthetic caffeine drink down her throat from a midnight blue synthetic cup that had no sense of art and was slightly too big for a mortal. She also summoned several new holographic screens. Lines of medical data and supply data instantly attracted the giant in front of him. "The world is short, especially on happy nights. Is this the result of that time?" I asked knowingly. Especially when he started to hang up his book bag in the language of the Eldar, that was when the Lord of the Eighth Legion, who did not want to be the commander of the legion, was really nervous. Although he always likes to flaunt his calmness and impartiality, from the officers of the legion to the goat-headed beast servants in the engine room who regard the human emperor as some kind of god, everyone in the expedition fleet has more or less understood the habits of this actually very young Blood Marquis. "As you said", while twisting her already tired neck, she stretched her hand towards the biological data scanner carried by the servo skull suspended on the side to authorize the file in front of her. Lilia, who was stuck in extra work because of the Primarch's whim a few months ago, let out a long sigh. "So many?" The culprit's face showed an expression that even as a mortal, he looked slightly younger than his real age, especially mixed with a hint of indescribable embarrassment. "It is satisfying to rejuvenate a naturally aging legionnaire for at least a thousand years, my lord." Lilia replied while typing on the meditator's keyboard in front of her. She coughed lightly and used a business tone to cover up the natural embarrassment when discussing certain topics that should be more delicate with people close to her. "This is unavoidable without using torture and pain. Especially in the atmosphere of celebrating victory." "Nevertheless..." "There are half a million regular crew members and about one hundred thousand beastman servants on this ship alone, plus nearly one hundred thousand sons of the Muses, one hundred thousand other auxiliary troops, and 900 legionnaires. From my point of view, this result is natural." At the office. After a burst of slightly cynical complaints from across the table about how shallow carnal pleasures and instincts are to well-educated and rational creatures, Chase's answer directly made the complainer gulp and cough: "Especially since you announced that you need some samples to prove the correctness of the new surrender bill. Now except... Well, let me see, rule out Between the crew, between the Beastmen servants, and between the Sons of the Muses, you now have all the samples between ordinary humans and us, between the Legionnaires and ordinary humans, between the Legionnaires and us, between ordinary humans and the Beastman servants, and between us and the Beastman servants. Based on the characteristics of the Legionnaires, outside of the sample group in which the Legionnaires participated, we have obtained the parent bidirectional. Healthy sample. So, regarding the construction application of the child care area module, the recruitment of safe and reliable professionals and biological sages, and related supplies, please give me your permission? " "... Everything must pass for ordinary people, so is there any sin in it? My hand of judgment?" As if to turn the topic back, the Lord of the Night slowly sat up and put away his lazily stretched out feet. "I only want to be able to prove that my path is correct, but let my royal court... Be filled with crying babies after only a few months?" "According to your rules and laws, all matches are limited to those who already have... Love." Qing Qing Chewing the High Gothic words lightly, the Bloody Hand Lady smiled and deliberately avoided the single language in the Comorian dialect that meant 'submitting to the other party's wishes to the point of sacrificing one's own interests', "Low Gothic is really interesting, my lord, In High Gothic, indulgent love, persistent love, dearness, sacred love, and sensual love each have their own words, but Low Gothic combines so many words into one word... I'm sorry, and please don't look at me with such curiosity. I don't have the leisure for this when I serve the royal court... In short, 97.9% Of the cases fully follow your rules. Of course, we also found some impulsive behaviors due to alcohol and excitement, most of which can be forgiven. Understand that the few who did not commit more crimes have been dealt with according to fleet discipline, but what I have to report to you is the use of authority, and the violent behavior has not been completely avoided. About six out of 100,000 cases are unpardonable crimes, and the punishment reports of the criminals have been submitted to you before, including... Several auxiliaries and civil officials recruited from Nostramo, and their families will also add additional crimes to compensate. This has been approved by the Ministry of Administration and the Biological Sect. Congratulations, the legal status of the sons of Muse and the servants has been confirmed.                                                                          Seemingly reassured by the result of this slightly self-deceptive effort, the thin giant exhaled a long breath and slumped shamelessly on the imperial concubine's couch, letting the carved wooden legs creak again for a while. After a breath, he seemed to have thought of something, and opened his thin lips again: "Then, Please also report the details of the new surrender bill and our trial." After a pause, at the moment Lilia's eyebrows were about to rise to a dangerous angle, he added the second half without any guilt: "I received the report, but I didn't read it after all. Read Victor's report." The Bloody Hand Countess, who was ambushed, could only sigh as she pulled out two Ministry of Interior data boards decorated with gold-plated brass and cultured wood from under the pile of documents and connected them to the projection device. A holographic scan of a star system surrounding a double star and a roll of parchment instantly filled the space in the room. "Department of the Interior 844M30 X-022 Details of the new Act of Surrender: Based on the justice and wisdom of the Emperor of Mankind, the kindness and foresight of the Primarch Conrad Curze, Vulkan, in the name of the Empire of Mankind, the authority of the Imperial Parliament, the permission of Imperial Regent Malcador, and the approval of the Emperor's power, the Act of Surrender is revised as follows: Submission is defined as: giving up the sovereignty of a single country, recognizing the empire's sovereignty over all settlements of this civilization, recognizing the Emperor of Mankind as the head of the empire, and accepting the supervision and guidance of the Imperial Ministry of the Interior. 1. All human and alien civilizations that are deemed acceptable by the Empire's truth preachers and experts from the Ministry of Internal Affairs (see Appendix A-3-H for the standards) can submit to the Empire in accordance with this law. Those who refuse to surrender will suffer the wrath of the Empire. 2. Any civilization that enslaves intelligent life through witchcraft and spiritual energy will be subject to the wrath of the Empire. All practices of ingesting intelligent life, including ingesting body tissue without depriving living bodies of life, must be terminated immediately, otherwise they will be subject to the wrath of the Empire. This prohibition does not prohibit the ingestion of non-living tissue formed by industrial cultivation that does not create or deprive life. See Regulation X-312-ΩΓ for the identification of intelligent races. All surrendered civilizations must extradite all armed ships capable of faster-than-light travel and all related technical personnel to the Imperial Fleet. Armed ships without interstellar navigation capabilities and unarmed faster-than-light ships that each surrendered civilization is allowed to possess must submit to the Ministry of Military Affairs under the jurisdiction of the mission at that time. The experts of the Ministry of Interior shall be based on the emperor's just restrictions and shall be supervised by the Imperial Navy. 4. Any surrendered civilization is allowed to retain its original political system within a radius of 1 light second from the center of each settled planet as an administrative area. If there are other man-made or natural celestial bodies inhabited by the civilization's military and civilians in the planetary system, and the center of mass is within one light second of the center of the planet, they can belong to the same planetary government. If the distance between the centers of mass exceeds one light second, then the settled celestial body needs to establish a separate government 5. The empire will dispatch a governor to reside in the star system of each subject civilization. The governor's responsibility is to ensure the loyalty and civilization of each subject planet. In addition, the governor shall not interfere with each subject planet. The development rights of each planetary government shall not extend to celestial bodies one light second away from the center of the planet. The governor's tax liability and income are based on the control of the star. The development and utilization of unmanned planets and celestial bodies in the system shall not harm the subject civilization. This decree does not prohibit the governor and the subject civilization from investing in each other's assets, but such investment ratios shall not exceed 45% and prohibit any form of agent shareholding. 6. Each subject civilization must pay tithes at a rate determined by the Ministry of the Interior based on the justice of the emperor, and establish an imperial auxiliary army recruitment office, which must not interfere with recruitment propaganda, and the auxiliary army recruitment office must not force recruitment. 7. All non-human surrendered civilizations must be allowed to immigrate, and those whose natural environment is not suitable for human habitation must be allowed to establish ecological nests within 100 kilometers around the administrative center within three Terran solar years. The number of immigrant individuals shall not be greater than 1/2 of the number of indigenous individuals, or the total biomass mass of immigrant individuals shall not be greater than 1/2 of the indigenous biomass mass, whichever is greater. The number of immigrants shall not be less than 2/3. "

Character Q version avatars: Morse, Perturabo, Magnus Character gifts: Morse's Powered Wheelchair🦽, Perturabo's Holy Hammer🔨, Emperor's Golden Laurel, Pony's Book of Magnus📚, Dorne's Golden Skull☠️, Horu St's golden ring💍, Guilliman's lighthouse model The original picture of the golden skull can't be found