[It's like a string of fireworks that fall into a pond.] 】

This was the first time Morgan had actually witnessed a battleship firing in the void.

Although she had been in the 15th Astarte Legion for more than a year, the silver-haired female officer had never experienced a real war, and she had not even seen Magnus's flagship, the Radiance, open fire.

After all, although the Great Expedition sounds radiant, as if it will set off wars and blood kingdoms in the galaxy every moment, the reality is far from that.

Most fleets spend most of their time traveling, exploring, and transporting, after all, after thousands of years of darkness in the Age of Strife, countless worlds in the galaxy have been reduced to ruins and wilderness, leaving only the remains of civilizations more than a dozen centuries ago, or the dark lairs set up by pirates, ruling these wastelands is meaningless for the Empire, and they must hurry to make these worlds once again imperial territories capable of transfusing blood for the Great Expedition.

In the Infinite Void, fleets loyal to the Emperor grew by the hour, until the Great Expedition had been going on for more than sixty years, and the Empire's expeditionary fleet may have numbered in the thousands, but most of them were performing tasks such as colonization, exploration, persuasion, transporting supplies, and defending newly established colonies.

Only the most elite armed fleets would sail into completely unknown territory to destroy the alien realms, or to recover the human pocket empires that still maintained their independence, and the conquest of the latter was often less forceful, because, as the Emperor of Humanity said:

When a world is burning in the flames of the Great Expedition, hundreds of human worlds are struggling under the minions of the vicious universe and aliens, waiting for the gospel from the homeland of mankind. 】

For now, that's true.

The Empire of Humanity may be engaged in thousands of battles every minute of every day, but when you zoom in on the entire galaxy, these smoke are insignificant, and the Great Expedition is more about exploration, persuasion, merger, alliance, coercion, inducement, and convincing, and even at some point, the Empire will engage in compromises that are contrary to its beliefs.

Only in the face of aliens and those who have crossed the realm will the edge of the empire be merciless, even at the expense of spending a lot of time and energy to mobilize the Angel of Death.

After all, the Emperor only had 10,000 forbidden troops, twenty Astarte legions, a disgruntled Mecha, and many auxiliary armies that were underpowered due to productivity and transportation reasons, how could the Emperor alone conquer the entire galaxy in just two hundred years, if every step was a war?

——————

"I never thought that our shells would fall on the heads of the subjects of the empire, it would be like a betrayal."

"I prefer to call it a sacrifice, an Ariman sacrifice, a sacrifice, it's a necessary price."

Frix's voice was marked by the contempt characteristic of the Iron Warriors: contempt for life, contempt for mortals, contempt for oneself.

After all, they consider themselves steel, and in any great military empire, a piece of steel is not worth cherishing too much.

"Of course we can let them go, let them go, let them live, and then what? In a few years, we will have to kill more people because of our momentary weakness. ”

"I just think that we have no reason to kill them, Frix, we as soldiers of the Emperor, from the moment of our birth, we have no right to kill any of the Emperor's subjects."

"But we don't have the power to keep them alive."

"I know, but it's murder."

"No, it's not murder, it's mercy, mercy from the emperor, after all, this galaxy is so ridiculous, even a cold death is a luxury that needs to be specially gifted."

“…… I never thought that an Iron Warrior would have the talent of a poet? ”

"That's because you've never really observed."

"Observe what? Your fortress? Or the trench you dug? ”

"You see, it's this kind of thinking, you only see the most superficial things, you only see the masonry of the fortress and the dirt of the trenches, but you never think about what we put into these things."

"You have never thought about the spatial minimalist and unloading structure of the fortress, nor have you ever observed the interplay between the distribution of the trenches and the surrounding environment, you only see them for themselves, and then you have brought your inherent thinking into it."

The Iron Warrior's voice was deliberately mimicking his genetic father, Perturabo, who deliberately fabricated a mixture of coldness, sanity, intelligence, and passion, but he never learned to resemble it, and finally became some kind of pretentious preaching.

So when Ahriman turned his gaze with a little disdain, the intrepid Iron Warrior could only turn his head in embarrassment, and then he realized that Morgan on the other end was also watching him.

There was no disdain in Morgan's eyes.

But there is something worse than contempt.

The son of Perturabo simply lowered his head and stopped looking at either side, which succeeded in making Ahriman laugh.

As Chiko went to tat the Iron Warrior on the shoulder with kindness, their conversation began again.

Everything seems so harmonious.

So weird.

Morgan looked at the scene in front of her and thought so.

Unlike Perturabo's flagship, the Iron Blood, the guest-hosting Steadfast Determination at their feet is equipped with large floor-to-ceiling portholes, allowing the darkness of the void to invade the ship's cloisters, creating an incredible spectacle.

And now in front of Morgan's eyes, there is an absurd scene:

The void is dark, it is pure black, it is the embellishment of nature, it is the sum of the most complex pigments that human vision cannot discern, it seems to radiate infinite light, and it seems to be able to swallow up all shining objects, and in this wonderful contradiction, its kingdom falls lightly into the cloister of the ship through the great porthole.

The cloister is bright, spacious, the embodiment of the essence of human civilization, it is composed of steel, brackets, lamps and the most standard figures, both complex and concise, soft and cold, it seems to be swallowed by the void separated by a wall, and it seems to completely resist it outside, through the porthole, you can even see the rays composed of the strong light of the lamp, slowly disappearing at the end of the void.

The light of machinery and nature mingled before her eyes, distinct and yet most genuinely mixed together, distorted into the holiesst, darkest, clearest, most blurred canvases.

And on this canvas, there are two emperors' angels of death, and countless mortals who are about to fall into hell.

On the left, there were Ahriman and Frix, they were talking, smiling, coming out of the thinnest guilt and realization, they certainly didn't feel guilty for too long about these deaths, after all, they had witnessed too much death and killing, most of which they had raised their swords and did with their own hands.

If every life needs to be mourned, then every emperor's angel of death probably needs to mourn until the end of time.

And on the other side, at the end of Morgan's field of vision, is a ship, a civilian ship from Li Xingxing, which is being betrayed, hit, subverted, killed.

Morgan could feel, feel the fragments and components of the ship shattering, drifting away with the gravityless void environment, which was full of refugees from Li Xingxing, probably tens of thousands, and she could feel their cries, their wails, their curses, their incredulity and panic, all of which crossed the boundaries of space and seemed so clear in her spiritual world.

Excessive clarity.

She saw the laughter of Ahriman and Fryx, shoulder to shoulder, like real brothers, patting each other's shoulder armor and pistol hanging on the other side.

She heard the cries of mortals, the cries of wives looking for their husbands, the sighs of friends saying goodbye to each other, the mournful whispers of mothers holding their children in their arms.

She saw the power armor tremble, it was two Astartes punching each other, discussing each other's strength, arguing about the merits of steel and psionics.

She heard the explosion of bullets, heard the sharp bullet pierce the weak temple, and then the silent body fell to the ground with a heavy weight, disappearing into a scream of utter confusion.

She saw them disappear at the end of the cloister, saw them say goodbye to her, their huge boots leaving no footprints on the steel floor.

She heard the voices disappear, from crying, to wailing, from exploding, to shattering, from collapse, to dead silence, and finally everything disappeared into eternal silence.

She watched it all, she listened to it all: bright, dim, neat, chaotic, laughing, crying, praising and cursing......

It all came down to one point: a huge steel tomb exploded in the void, and it didn't make a sound, except for a faint flash of light that flickered on the walls and portholes of the cloister, leaving the reflection of Astarte's departure for a moment.

Ultimately.

She turned her head.

Those mortals are dead.

——————

"Ms. Morgan, please come to the command room."

【…… Good. 】

——————

It's a command room, but in a way, it's also an exhibition hall of Perturabo's work, and the Iron Lord uses the Resolute Resolve as a vehicle for a little vanity that he doesn't want to show so easily, and in its wide over-the-top bridge, there are works that Perturabo sees are perfect enough to amaze outsiders.

Morgan's path was unimpeded, and she made her way through the shadows of the tall Astartes, and she couldn't help but feel nostalgic for who she was: she had been suppressing her overly tall figure in order to better adapt to her mortal status.

Eventually, she found herself in front of the massive iron door, where Morgan could see that the automated facility was identifying who was coming, and her avatar and profile were clearly the newest of all those allowed to enter on their own, but she also found an interesting problem: the name of Magnus as her immediate supervisor was not written in the field where she was allowed to access.

It's Perturabo's own handwriting.

She thought of something, and the door had opened, Morgan narrowed his eyes and adjusted his thoughts.

Behind the gates, it was natural to ......

"What are you doing! Peturabo! ”

"As you can see, do the right thing."

"If what you say is correct is to bring this thing to me, to delight me, and then destroy it completely...... Peturabo, my brother, I hate to say that, but this is an atrocity, a cruel atrocity! ”

"If it's not cruel enough, then what's the point that might make you remember it in your heart, Magnus?"

"You know what the Emperor said, Magnus, our father knows a lot more than we do. He sees farther and deeper than we do, and if even he thinks that there are places in the so-called [subspace] that he does not dare to see, then we need to accept that. ”

"Yes, but! No need! Here's how! ”

"You lamented to me the ignorance of humanity and thought they had desecrated countless arts, but now, look what you're doing, Perturabo!"

——————

The room was shaking, the air was shaking, the primordial was roaring.

Morgan was blinking.

【……】

I don't know why, she seems, probably, probably......

Not at all surprised.