He is the first and He is the final. He is the first and He is the last. He who is unjust, let him remain unjust. He who is filthy, let him remain filthy. He who is holy, let him remain holy. He who washes his clothes will have access to the tree of life. He who hears should speak. Let him who is thirsty also come.

I testify to everyone who hears the prophecy of this book, that if anyone adds anything to it, he will add to him the disasters that are written in this book. If anyone takes away anything, He will take away his part from the tree of life and from the city of dust, which are written in this book. Yes. I will come quickly. ——"Revelation: The Perfect City"

When they arrived at the operating core of Pharos Mountain, Barabas Dantioch was introducing the role of Pharos to the two primarchs standing side by side in the Iron-Blooded ship several light years away.

"This device works on the principle of quantum entanglement between particles. This is a natural phenomenon, Lord Morse, but this machine can use it to induce stable resonances across extremely distant spaces."

Dantioch's voice vibrated with the musical rumble of the engine, inspired with a joy and passion rare for a Space Marine. Even with the helmet blocking his expression, the concentration and vitality displayed by the Iron Warrior are still highlighted in the strength and tension of his movements.

Of course, the discovery of this device in the Pharos Mountains, its function, and the meaning behind its function are enough to arouse the excitement of anyone who has knowledge and expectations about this galaxy.

"We are working on this device these days, and it could have many applications. Such as energy beams for atomizing targets and force field generators to deflect the phase of objects. And so on."

"In addition, we can be sure that it uses an unknown logic and unfamiliar means to retrieve the scenes presented in the user's mind and project them, which allows the user to communicate with what they want in the most direct way. Dialogue with people or places, and I believe that the place we are in is the core of the place.”

"Thank you, Dantioch." Perturabo said on the other side, "I will discuss it with Guilliman."

Dantioch cut off the communication, turned around, and together with Alexis Polux standing beside him, saluted the visiting primarch and craftsman.

"Excellent presentation. I need to check this place, warrior," Morse said, waiting for Dantioch to respond. After Perturabo nodded, Dantioch made a gesture of invitation.

The golden power is divided into several filaments, swimming and shining in the cave.

The interior of this wide cave is in the shape of a hemisphere with a radius of about 100 meters. It has a large piece of clear black stone, like half a black pearl that has been cut flat from the middle and then buckled to the ground. It is connected to many deep and smooth passages with no steps. Or the slopes of the transmission and transportation devices together form a large and complex strongly connected block. Man-made platforms, bridges and stairs were laid on the surface of this unknown black stone as the Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists teams explored.

Morse can confirm that the driving energy of this material is by no means psychic. In fact, he prefers to call it a cutting-edge technology that cannot be deciphered by the current level of human technology and does not rely on the power of the subspace. He suddenly wondered if the Emperor would like such technology.

"You can directly continue introducing Pharos to me, child." Perturabo looked at Dantioch and Plox, who was very tall for some reason, and had some irrelevant questions about the choice of how much to lower his head. Think, "If you have any other ideas, please tell us, Alexis Polux."

"I don't know the device as well as he does," Polux said.

"I don't really understand the device either."

"But he can learn to use it, I can't."

"It's just because you haven't tried often enough, Alexis. This machine works on just one feel."

"You said that nearly a hundred times, Barabas."

"Enough." Perturabo and Morse said the word simultaneously in different tones, and they looked at each other.

"Who is interested in giving us a demonstration instead of continuing to bicker in this dark cave, warriors? No verbal introduction is needed, I am going to try to do some dynamic analysis when the machine is started."

Dantioch stepped forward and adjusted the device he had been tinkering with for weeks. The energy peak displayed in the additional detection unit began to increase, and the vibration frequency stabilized after increasing. Pharos buzzed under his hand, and this long and dull roar was extinguished after contacting the dark stone wall. Devour quietly.

Soon, ripples gradually appeared on the wall, and then, an instant later, the light suddenly changed, and a huge iron-gray flagship appeared in the center of the void with the miniature of Macragge's rocky planet as the background.

The focus was on the flagship, and the picture continued to zoom in, penetrating the strong steel shell of the flagship, the front half of the ship that was as sharp as the tip of a gun, and quickly reaching the workshop at the bottom of the ship.

There, the tall figures of the two Primarchs conversing quickly became clear.

"That's me," said Perturabo.

Dantioch nodded silently, trying his best to show his approval within the limited range of his head. Perturabo felt subtly puzzled when he realized that none of his heirs liked to take off their helmets when they saw him. Don't they want their expressions to be exposed?

In Iron-Blooded, Perturabo's reaction proved that he noticed that Dantioch's image had appeared in the workshop. Dantioch saluted his primarchs simply: "Lord Guilliman. Lord Perturabo."

"It seems that you have mastered the use of the internal devices of Pharos Mountain, Dantioch." Perturabo on the other side said, "There will no longer be sudden movements and flashes every three seconds."

"Yes, Father," Dantioch replied smoothly, "but the working principle of this device is still unknown."

"I have always believed that the essence of all technology is just to shorten the distance between the theoretical framework and the object itself. In fact, we cannot claim to understand the operating principle of anything. Of course, my views have never been of positive reference value." Morse said, "You are operating too fast, and the energy fluctuation rate is too high, which is not a good thing for observation. Alexis Polux, if I remember your name correctly, I am interested in trying it." Try it?”

Dantioch saluted Perturabo on the other side again, ended the contact, and looked at Polux.

Polux's face, as serious as his genetic father's, added a deeper seriousness that sometimes had a laughable quality to it.

Soon, the tall Imperial Fists warrior gave up resisting the gaze of a mysterious craftsman with a reputation, his friend, and the simultaneous gaze of two Primarchs whose appearance was almost identical, and began to debug the equipment with an almost heroic determination. Sweat began to flow down his face and into his bright yellow work robe.

"Don't try to defeat it, follow it, Alexis, don't be afraid of failure, but don't be dominated by it." Dantioch reminded, swallowing more in the ears of the primarch, for the warriors of different legions Words that would sound too intimate.

"I'm trying."

"Yeah, brother, feel it all. You've taken so many notes, I'm sure you're ready."

Polux gritted his teeth and tried hard, his face turning red.

"Logic has brought us here, Alexis, but this machine requires emotion. Although strong emotion goes against what we are taught, we cannot deny it. I believe you have greater potential than I do. "

Perturabo gave up thinking about why this clumsy Imperial Fist was so favored by his decisive, creative, and technical offspring.

"Okay. Our gaze makes the warriors nervous, Perturabo." Morse laughed, "How about you try it yourself?"

Polux began to breathe. For at least five minutes just now, this Imperial Fist had completely forgotten about this.

"Sorry," he said dully, sounding more like he was addressing Dantioch even though he was facing the Primarch.

"It's okay, not everyone has talent. Not all talents can be discovered." Perturabo said with high interest.

In front of this new technological creation, he could no longer bear his love and desire for exploration. In other words, he could not wait to use this machine himself.

"Soldiers, please get out of here first." Morse prompted.

"Yes," said Polux, followed by Dantioch. "We are waiting in room two, outside the prime location, number one," the latter said.

In addition, this is the prime position No. 1. This naming method seems to prove the naming level of Dantioch in a sense.

They soon left together.

"Move with emotions, right?" Perturabo said to himself, already extending his hand, "I don't know if this half-mechanical, half-spelled iron ring body can meet the needs."

Morse took his hand. "Before that, let's discuss some other issues."

"Is there a hidden danger?" Perturabo asked immediately. The joy of seeing a strange object was suppressed in an instant, and ruthless rationality returned to the upper hand. "Shouldn't we take advantage of this?"

"This is not easy to evaluate. I am unfamiliar with the forces driving this place, but there are some details in the operation just now that are indeed worthy of investigation."

Morse let go of Perturabo, folded his hands on his chest, walked around the thick cables on the floor and the mechanical detection box that was nowhere to be placed, stopped at the console, and stared at the brass The hands on the dial have been reset.

"Even though the magnitude of energy, especially subspace energy, is difficult to measure, the power that drives machinery does not arise out of thin air, and the emotions that an individual Space Marine can mobilize without psionic means, as well as the subsequent emotions brought by emotions, There is no way that power can drive a conversation that spans millions of light years.”

"You think emotion is a lead," Perturabo said, knowing Morse was right.

"Or an instruction to inform the operator of the machine what the next step is."

"Is there any life controlling this alien ruin?" Perturabo frowned, his light eyes full of careful thinking. Dead alien civilizations are worth using, but living ones are another matter entirely.

"You are right about one thing, that is, some jobs cannot be done by Space Marines." Morse looked at Perturabo and said. "I personally support you in trying this device, but I can't guarantee you anything. The good news is that even if there is indeed a living alien manipulating this ruin, its weakness and restraint are certain. More I can’t go into too many details, but if you find any signs of danger during the trial..."

He thought about it.

"Good luck?"

Perturabo sighed. "That doesn't sound very friendly, Morse."

"Oh, my dear Lord of Iron, Your Majesty, if you continue to judge me like this, I will hit you hard with the golden pen of Imperial Regent Malcador..."

"I wish you could change the way you help me with my emotions, Morse!"

——

Time and space are distorted by great force in the tunnel of void, illusions and forgotten fragments sleep in the cold darkness, and ancient machinery is humming.

When Perturabo opened his eyes, he saw a column of people in pale protective suits leaving the distorted picture. He smelled metallic chemical solvents filling his nasal passages, and found himself curled up inside a huge pipe, lifted and floating by the dense liquid.

He stared ahead, through the curved glass tube, his eyes that were not fully developed yet vaguely discerning the outside world. The rock wall was dark, there was the sound of falling water, and there were more glass pipes, one after another. Greek columns. The term suddenly appeared in his mind, as if it had always been there, before he had any real knowledge of the world. He had the word, and it filled him with satisfaction and fear.

He moved his suspended legs and feet, moving in the pipe, and placed his hands on the wall of the glass pipe. cold. Another concept appeared, entering his mind with its manifestations in thousands of languages ​​and cultures, like a drop of water falling into a full glass.

Opposite him, under the rows and rows of test tubes, stood many people, bent over the workbench, with their eyes pressed against the observation equipment. biology. Genetics. Genetic Engineering. Work. Task. create. Another series of nouns.

He tried in vain to see the test tube opposite, his calculations telling him that his vision was insufficient for an observation with the precision he needed. He felt no regrets. He turned his ears to the low hum of hundreds of electrically powered instruments. He can control them. he knows. He realized he liked them.

After thirty-one microseconds, he turned his head to the left. somebody is coming. he knows.

On the other side of the glass, a man was looking at him. He was wearing a long white scientist's coat, his long hair was tied behind his back, and he was neither tall nor short. Slender, but not skinny.

He was handsome, maybe not that handsome. No, this is a metric that is difficult to measure with data and rationality. He shouldn't be calculating that way.

If it weren't for the terrifying power that the visitor possesses, like a stellar furnace, perhaps he would be no different from any ordinary existence. This intimidating force frightened him at first, but as the visitor approached, the fear was replaced by calmness, which brought him a sense of peace of mind that was enough to relax him.

He found that he could speak.

"The Emperor," Perturabo said, pressing his forehead against the cold glass tube, "You are the Emperor."

"Yes." said the scientist.

"You come to visit your creation."

"Yes," the Emperor admitted, "many times, Four."

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