Emperor's Bane

Chapter 32 Memory
Memories are like floating ice in the deep sea.

It is broken, cold, and sharp, and can easily cut through the false cover of reality, allowing the most ruthless, terrifying, and bloody things to clearly appear in the mind that desires to escape, and tells despair with biting low temperature dying whispers.

From another point of view, when a miserable person is drowning in the coldest ocean of reality and self-deception, all he can do is to cling tightly to this floating ice like a living torture. , in the torment and pain to preserve his sober will, longing for salvation and miracles from the sky.

But miracles are rare, so people in the world often have to endure a very long period of pain about memory and the past: they have to endure the ridiculous mistakes they made when they were young, and they have to remember the sad dilemmas they encountered when they were down. Repeating over and over again how I wasted the best time and years, and then continued to embrace the mediocre future amidst regret.

Of course, these are not the most desperate.

In the deepest part of the cold memory lies the horrible joke brought about by fate: no matter how hard you try your best, no matter what you do, the irresistible external force erases all your efforts like a play, and takes away the possibility. There is only one chance in a lifetime, leaving only one [unlucky] loser.

The failure may not be due to a lack of ability, maybe it's just that the time has not come, or maybe it's just a lack of preparation, but the disaster happened at this time, easily destroying everything that should have been intact.

This is where fate is at its cruelest and meanest, and in this respect it treats all individuals equally.

Even the Primarch.

Especially the Primarch.

------

Icy.

Morgan felt cold.

She knew very well that this was not the real temperature, but this did not prevent her from feeling the viciousness of the biting chill that lingered all over her body, they were beating on her skin and will, longing for a good meal.

She only felt that she was in a rather wonderful environment: she felt what was happening in front of her eyes from the first perspective of the client, but on the other hand, she clearly knew that what was in front of her was not reality, but Part of her dusty, broken memory.

The soul usurped from Magnus is like a key that has just been retrieved, inadvertently opening a part of Morgan's spiritual world that was once locked. For someone who is not complete, This is of course a good thing, after all, it means that she has taken another visible step away from truly mastering herself.

However, not everything is in Morgan's expectation and grasp.

It's like opening a room that has been dusty for a long time. Although it can bring a wider space and some unexpected surprises, at the same time, the dust and haze that have been dusty for a long time in the room will also be out of control. Floating out, causing moderate trouble.

And now, Morgan is in a little trouble.

As Magnus' psychic fragments loosened the three suppressed behemoths in her mind, countless tiny fragments began to pour out of the cracks, most of them were parts of Morgan's memories that had been erased, like being wiped out. Like the leaves pulled by the strong wind, they were scattered all over the place.

And when the silver-haired female officer gathered and assembled these memory fragments a little bit, she was immediately sucked into this memory.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a rather closed room with extremely dim lights, and those huge, glowing training cabins, a tall golden figure walked among them, like a A king patrolling the territory, and behind him is a crooked black shadow.

They were talking, probably about Morgan.

【Do you think this is a success, Macado? 】

Facing the emperor's question, the stamper's posture was a little weird. He didn't answer immediately, but hesitated a few times, as if he was thinking about something.

"With all due respect, it is difficult to judge, my lord, because we do not have relevant experience and lessons, so we cannot judge whether we have done well this time."

【...You are right, my handprinter, but until now, we can only choose such a method, just like everything we do now, like every test we will experience in the future. 】

【We are crossing the river by feeling the stones, walking in the rushing cold current, staggering, exhausted, holding on to every rock under our feet, no matter what the next one is, whether it is sharp or smooth, is it Obstacles are still stepping stones, all we can do is hold on to it, even if it makes our palms drip with blood, or even attracts scavengers in the turbulence, we must and can only do so. 】

[Because we can't do anything else. 】

【Just like now...】

Morgan could feel that they were walking in front of her, but through the thick cabin mirror, she could only see a blur of golden light and shadow. His outline was distorted by the light and the mirror, and there were disordered spikes all over the place. , exuding a merciless brilliance.

Like a hot sun reflected in the water.

But even if it was just a blurry shadow, it was so tall, terrifying, majestic, and invincible. The golden light caught Morgan's eyes, but it cast a sky-high shadow that was enough to make people despair.

The Emperor spoke and continued.

[Say, what should I do with her. 】

"..."

Malcador remained dead silent, because he had no right to answer this question, nor did he need to answer it, after all, it was just an emotional soliloquy from the Emperor.

[This is not a multiple-choice question, is it? 】

[I know that I will encounter failure again and again, after all, our business is not a juggling trick like conquest and domination, we are dancing with the craziest storm to usurp the only light; we are betting with the most insidious god Fight, drill for impossible victories. 】

[And in our hands, we don't even have some decent chips. I don't even know how long the world is left for me, and whether there are unimaginable opponents on the other side of the distant void. 】

【I don’t have the time to make careful calculations, I don’t have the energy to count every penny, I don’t have plans to appease the people, and I don’t even have the confidence to declare the possibility of any victory at any stage. 】

【I have foreseen that the failure I will encounter may be a defeat on the battlefield, or it may be a forced compromise and showdown, or a rebellion, an unavoidable and unavoidable betrayal, the huge benefits and unfair distribution will make the most fanatical The most loyal fighters raise the flag of rebellion, these are all things that should be done. 】

[But I never expected that it would come so quickly and so ridiculously. 】

【I have shaped twenty swords, but the second one has rust marks that cannot be cleaned. It is destined to be corroded by darkness. No matter how you struggle, no matter how you resist, its future is already doomed. 】

【She has been killed by fate. 】

[It became an embarrassing failure. 】

------

What did Malcador want to say.

But in the end he didn't speak.

------

Morgan couldn't speak.

Morgan couldn't move.

Morgan couldn't express her dissatisfaction, her anger, her fear, her struggle, she was limited by fragments of memory in this too small body, listening to her genetic father's conclusion like a knife in vain.

But this does not prevent the seeds of viciousness from taking root in her will, growing like a savage hurricane, and in this hatred, even the shadow of the Emperor is not so daunting.

Even in her almost eternally dead heart, a faint, impulsive desire is growing strangely and tenaciously. It is the beacon of anger and rebellion, and it will one day become a nightmare for the prairie fire.

but not now.

Now, only the Emperor's voice echoed.

[But thinking about what we have done, Malcador, failures are not useless, and a rusty knife can also have its miraculous effect. 】

[Wounds and bleeding are too common in this universe, it can't even kill any opponent who is stubborn enough, but a rotten blade can bring more surprises, it may be difficult to cut through huge The cracks and wounds, but each of its strikes will bring indelible germs, full of surprises and dramas as surprises. 】

[She is like this, of course we can use her like a rusty blade, we don't even need to deliberately maintain it, and we don't need to feed it with honor and victory like facing other troublesome works. 】

"Not all deserve honor, my lord."

Finally, Malcador spoke.

[Yes, not all of them need the so-called victory and glory. I designed this among those truly trustworthy individuals, such as number one, but what they want is even more. 】

【They want to be trusted, to be recognized, to be recognized and valued from the shadows and shared secrets that no one knows. 】

[They are longing for something that never existed in this galaxy. 】

[Sometimes, I would rather have more individuals like No. [-]. After all, such works do not require me to pay more, and their fate is nothing more than slowly disappearing in the lonely starry sky. 】

[Just like her legion, her descendants are reliable and capable, and have accomplished their careers in the fields I planned, so I allow their existence. 】

【but……】

------

The Emperor seemed to say something again, but Morgan could no longer hear it.

The fragments of memory stopped abruptly here, her vision gradually blurred, and her consciousness gradually shattered until she could no longer see the shining light and shadow clearly.

She was thrown into the darkness, like a hastily drowned, struggling to adapt to the sudden change of situation.

The spliced ​​memory fragments could no longer withstand Morgan's spiritual power, and they were torn apart again, and slowly merged into Morgan's real conscious world, just like a too rapid snowfall, countless snow-white The fragments slowly fell into Morgan's spiritual kingdom, and they took root and became a part of Morgan's thoughts.

The incognito Primarch began to wrestle from his own thoughts and return to reality.

And when Morgan opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the face of the Lord of Steel—Perturabo, who was neither sad nor happy.

(End of this chapter)