The Veil of Fate is a world that barely meets colonial standards, but it remains unremarkable in the face of the vast array of choices that come with the Great Expedition.

It wasn't until the seventy-eighth year of Terra that the Lord of Humanity began his glorious journey that an incomparably powerful army of steel brought the breath of the human empire to this desolate world for the first time.

The Iron Lord Perturabo led thirty-three battalions of his legions, and more than 30,000 Astarte warriors, to this deserted sandstone fortress, which the Genogens saw as a suitable place to meet their upcoming blood relatives.

Although, this desolate world, which was named [Veil of Destiny] by Perturabo himself, is not far from the home planet [Olympia] of the original genogen, only separated by a few empty star regions and the casting world called [Annverus], but in some kind of psychology, Perturabo finally refused to entertain his blood relatives on his home planet, and he would rather come to this barren world, build a large number of buildings, and build a gorgeous palace that will only be used once.

Externally, the Iron Lord claimed that this was out of consideration for the efficiency of the Great Expedition, but deep down, in the dark, Perturabo could not convince himself.

Genogen knew very well that the real reason for him to do so was that he didn't want to go back to his home planet, and he didn't want to face and remember some people and things on Olympia, as well as the long memories that he had subconsciously erased.

His titular adoptive father, Damex, his titular sister Kellyfane, and the so-called brother Andos, who once defeated him in the statue competition......

He remembered it all, he knew that they were still living in Olympia, as governors of the empire or relatives of the primordials, in a marble paradise built by Perturabo's own hands: he knew all this, he remembered all this, so he did not want to go back to Olympia, to his nominal so-called homeland.

He's running away......

……

No!

No, no, no!

Of course not!

He is Perturabo, he is the Iron Lord of the Emperor, he does not run away from anything, he does not run away from responsibility, he does not run away from pain, he does not run away from the burden that comes from the Emperor, and naturally he does not run away from these humble memories that are not lethal to speak of.

He just doesn't want to waste time on these useless things.

There was only one fundamental reason why he would not return to Olympia: after he left, would the world be any different from the rest of the Empire's desolate iron mounds? Its only role was to provide the Iron Warrior with a supply of troops and hide his useless memories, and it was no longer worth the slightest bit of value for Perturabo.

……

That's it.

On the highest tower of the majestic temple he had designed, Perturabo finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Yes, exactly.

Olympia was not worth going back to, it was just a monotonous conscription world, and the galaxy was full of more important goals and journeys than it.

The Lord of Steel is so convinced.

Therefore, Perturabo came to [Veil of Fate] to make this place a magnificent palace worthy of the two primitives.

And the facts have proved that he can do it.

In the midst of Perturabo's unparalleled architectural prowess and the Iron Warrior's skillful ashing skills, a centuries-tall Iron King stood on the gray plains in two weeks' time.

The Astarte warriors from the Fourth Legion laid down their guns, picked up levers, files, and chamfering tools, and they formed a behemoth that devoured raw materials and then produced masonry and construction: the roaring engines were their crunching jaws, the cranes that worked around the clock were their tireless arms, and under the operation of this behemoth, hundreds of tons of crushed stone and more steel were crushed, chewed or assembled, and then thrown into at least a thousand construction sites that were operating at the same time, and that's it, In the midst of intense architectural passion and ingenious logistics, Perturabo's descendants completed the masterpiece, just as their genetic prototype had hoped for in their hearts.

From the beginning to the end, Perturabo did not go to the construction site on the front line, he always stood on the highest point: first at the top of the rare hills on the plain, then at the top of the magnificent palace that was being built higher and higher, and the Lord of Steel always entrenched in the highest place, to grasp and supervise the completion of the building from the most macro perspective.

Before that, an almost identical temple had survived quietly in his drawings for more than a decade, and now the Lord of Steel had released it into the world, remembering every detail and every number, from the load-bearing pillar material needed for the pedestal to the faces of the goddesses in the core hall, all neatly arranged in Peturabo's mind, and when he blinked, the fantasy building would stand on the dusty construction site, beautiful and lifelike.

He even felt a sense of relief.

When he saw that the well-placed earth-breaking bombs had destroyed all the hills that stood in their way, clearing the foundations enough to be seen in space; When he saw that the hundreds of excavation engines were working at the same time, the sand and dust smoke that were splashed stretched for hundreds of kilometers.

When he saw that his Olympian descendants, the Iron Warriors who were warriors, craftsmen, mechanics, and builders, were under the remote command of the Genetic Prototype through the remote control of the commanders of the various large battalions, leading countless mortal servants to polish the worldly wonders of structural mechanics and classical aesthetics according to the dimensions and estimates that Perturabo had in mind, and that they were meticulous.

The Lord of Steel finally felt a long-lost joy, an aura that was enough to make him feel relaxed, and he watched the completion of this great temple from beginning to end, as if the ideas in his mind were becoming reality in a slow way.

Before the primordial felt the first tiredness, the great temple was completed, the arrogant Iron King trampling on the barren plains that had not changed for ten thousand years, surrounded by iron-gray and copper-colored spiral dunes, and above his head, in the place where Perturabo admired and meditated, one could open its eyes and see the lowest clouds, at the edge of the field of vision, rumbling and dull, brewing the next round of thunder and storm.

Perturabo listened to all this, listened to the otherwise disturbing roar, but felt a peace of mind, and when he opened his eyes again, he gave a new order to Frix, who was standing behind him.

Now, the grandeur of this hall does match the dignity of the visitor, but its interior and connotation still cannot provide enough atmosphere and background for the meeting of the two genetic prototypes.

So, with a new order from the Father of Genes, the Iron Warriors dismissed their weary mortal servants, took up the more elaborate utensils without complaint, and began to devote themselves to the shaping and completion of every room, every corridor, and every statue, following the new drawings issued by Perturab.

And just as the tinkling of chisels and tape measures and stone-carved hammers replaced the savage roar of cranes and ground-breaking instruments, a terrified Frix returned and pushed open the door to the top floor with trepidation, interrupting the silent musings of the genetic prototype.

"My lord, there is a small fleet passing through Mandeville Point, and they are asking to be able to pass through the blockade we have set up and land in this world."

Unsurprisingly: when Frix saw the frowning brow of the Father of Genes, all he could do was lower his head and let the drops of sweat begin to run down the back of his neck.

"I remember giving you a very clear order, Flix, that any civilian ships passing through this system are to be driven away until the meeting is complete, I think I said that clearly enough."

The genogen wasn't angry, but there was discontent brewing in his words.

"But, my lord, that fleet came from Olympia, and it carried ...... Ms. Kelly Fannie. ”

“…… Kelly Fanny? ”

"What is she doing here?"

——————

Though he had thought of having his heirs expel the fleet, though he had sworn never to set foot in Olympia again, though he would never admit it: there was indeed a trembling in his heart when he heard that distant and familiar name.

Eventually, however, Perturabo made his way to a gentle slope that the Iron Warriors had already cleared and used to dock their flying instruments.

He waited patiently for a while, silent, and the trident and the high-ranking officers who came with him naturally did not dare to figure out the will of the genetic prototype, so they could only stand in the same silence ten meters away.

Before the Lord of Steel was enraged by the dreary atmosphere and the frenzied dust, his first guest was finally long overdue.

Calllfanie rode in a modified Storm Bird, its weapons unloaded, expanding the interior and comfort for the service of the Empire's dignitaries: Perturabo saw through it at a glance, a disdainful grunt erupting from his nostrils.

And when he saw the livery on the Stormbird, his disdain turned into a kind of resentment at being provoked, and of course he recognized the livery, because it was the hallmark of the Imperial Aquila, and of Locks: the court where Perturabo spent the first few years of his life, and the arrogant kingdom ruled by his so-called adoptive father.

He had never liked it, for it had never been a bright kingdom of art and reason, but a dim court of conquest, hypocrisy and intrigue.

But Perturabo's resentment only lasted until Kellyfanie appeared: when his titular sister stepped through the river of time and space and stood in front of the Gene Prototype again, the Iron Lord couldn't help but be stunned by the scene before him.

What are you doing here?

He wanted to say this, but when he saw Kellyfanie's appearance now, a knee-jerk inquiry had already crept out of his lips and teeth.

"Didn't they give you rejuvenation surgery?"

Anger, real anger, the endless anger provoked by shock and divergent momentary thoughts, burned along with this inquiry.

Kellyphone, his Kellyphone, the only person in that dimly lit court who could talk for a long time, the only person who could be seen with a faint affection of family: though they were not relatives at all, they were enough to be called kindred in a sense, and in the face of their own adversity, they were equally persistent, rational, watching each other, and walking together.

He remembered her, of course, his playfulness, his complexity, his intelligence, his immature but equally valuable advice on politics and art, her snow-white complexion, her bright pupils, and her dark strands of bright brown sideburns: when he was still young, he tried countless times to restore her countenance, to restore her face, to reproduce her eyes, with marble, clay, or by subtle machinery, but always failed.

But after trying and sculpting again and again, he remembered her appearance and soul forever, and was proud of it.

But now, the vile reality, the shameful fate, and the deceitful eyes joined together to mock him, to tease him, to confuse the fantasy in his pupils with the reality in his memory, and to laugh loudly at his nostalgia for the last vestiges of the past.

What did he see?

He saw Kellyfanie: the one who could be called Kellyfanie, the pathetic figure who took her name, slowly came to him, her every step was shattering those beautiful memories and efforts.

She is her: of course, the genetic prototype can see a few handfuls of clarity in the long river of memories from the still smart pupils and the most familiar smiles.

But she was not her: she was no longer the nimble and graceful elf, no longer the light that danced in the dreary court of Locks, no longer the miracle that could not be imitated by all his wisdom and efforts.

Her pupils were still smart, but when her eyes were sunken deeply, buried in obvious wrinkles, her skin was no longer pure snow-white, but a carefully concealed pale yellow, and her hair was still meticulously groomed, but it could still catch a few bumps that could not be concealed pale.

She was no longer the beauty that Perturabo remembered.

She's old.

Just as Perturabo had left the mountains of Olympia in pursuit of the Emperor's will and the grand future in his heart, in the blink of an eye, she had grown old, like a mortal, in the blink of an eye.

She is still smart, she is still wise, she can still spit out rational words, but she is no longer the innocent memory in Perturabo's heart, when she becomes a part of reality, in Perturabo's heart, like everything in the world, she has a kind of original sin that makes the genetic prototype feel a certain disdain.

But despite this, when Kellyfanie walked slowly, Perturabo couldn't help but spit out the words.

"Didn't you go to them? You didn't go to those medical areas? You didn't go for a rejuvenation surgery? Or are they not willing to give you this surgery? ”

The genoplasm's cross-examination ensued, and it was Kellyfanny's smile that answered him.

"There are always some people who are stupid and refuse to accept some things that seem difficult to find to outsiders, such as honor, such as status, and eternal youth that comes from artificiality."

"And I am one of those stupid people, I think that with the instinct of life and time, there is nothing wrong with naturally aging, in fact, this is also a way and choice of life."

The genogen fell silent, his anger silently gone, but despite this, he snorted softly, expressing his displeasure and disdain.

"When you get old, when you can't even lift a finger, when you can only watch those people running around, you will regret your decision, and by that time, maybe you will be so declining that you can't even do the most basic surgery."

"Maybe, maybe I'll regret it at that time, but now I won't, I enjoy this state very much, enjoying the burden that time and time have added to my body, so that I no longer rely on physical strength and impulses, but more and more thinking and imagining."

"Whatever you want! Anyway, the change of mortals is always a defective product that is half-. ”

The genoplasm seemed to be in a rather strange state, one that was inscrutable to many of the offspring behind him: he seemed to be a little angry, panting heavily, expressing some kind of suppressed dissatisfaction; But he seemed to be a little happy again, happy to have a calm conversation rather than a violent reprimand.

These two states exist in his body at the same time, fighting each other, because of the conversation and atmosphere in the next second, and the atmosphere is constantly changing.

The genogen blinked, he seemed to be obsessed with observing his loved ones he hadn't seen in a long time, and after a while, his voice was as dull as a sledgehammer smashing steel, but sonorous.

"You're not staying in Olympia, what are you doing here?"

"Who told you to come, Damex?"

"Can't you call him a father? He has raised you for many years, looking for teachers and companions for you, and is looking forward to your recognition and affection. ”

"Recognize your attitude, Kellyfanie, my father is only the Emperor, the Lord of Mankind, and as for Damex, I have indeed been in his court for a few years, but I have repaid his education, I have given him the whole of Olympia, I have given him the crown, is that not enough?"

"Now, you won't even scream as a sister, and your gift, what is your gift? Trapping him in the position of being called the Governor of the Empire, watching those Terra officials take power, and then pulling away most of the young people of Olympia from generation to generation, has he thrown himself into your dreams without return? ”

"He's a cruel and ruthless fellow, Perturabo indeed, but you shouldn't do that to him, you know what he's done for you."

"You know, he worked hard to be your father, and that was his hardest work."

"Enough!"

A few words from Olympia caused Perturabo to let out a roar of rage, and the screams of the original body burst out of his throat, shaking the mortals and Astarte warriors around him: except for Kellyfan, the proud figure who stood closest to her, she calmly faced the anger from Perturabofan, as if she had expected it.

"You're still the same as before, brother, the stars haven't made you look any better, or rather, it's even made your temper worse, which is not a good thing."

"If you remember my character, then you should be more humble!"

"Also, don't call me brother, call me Perturabo, or Genogen: this is who I am now, this is my position and responsibility among the stars."

"Does this status make you any different, compared to Olympia?"

“……”

The genogen was silent, he closed his eyes, and was silent for a few moments before softly spitting out words from the corners of his mouth.

"Don't provoke me, and don't avoid the questions I ask."

"What are you doing here?"

The lady from Olympia only smiled, she seemed tired of talking in this empty parking field, and had to endure the baptism of sand and cold wind in vain.

"Does the Empire have a special law forbidding the Olympians to go to the Void? Can't I just leave the courtyard and wait and visit one of my friends? ”

"I don't have any plans to pretend to meet you unexpectedly, Perturabo, I came to this galaxy to wait for a friend of mine, we haven't seen each other for a long time: and then, I saw your warriors, building in this remote world."

"Your ...... Friend? ”

The Iron Lord's face was a little distorted, and his innate wisdom made up the words for a moment, and colluded everything in front of him and behind him to arrive at a somewhat absurd truth.

And this truth was soon confirmed.

"Yes, a friend of mine."

"That was a long time ago, when a fleet of the Legion of a Thousand Sons passed through Olympia, and I happened to be walking near the spaceport: there I met a very interesting lady, she was young, talkative, with a pair of blue eyes, and I had many topics and common interests, and for a moment I even saw your shadow."

“……”

Perturabo breathed heavily, his mouth clenched tightly, his eyes wide as if a shard of steel had been torn apart by the force of great violence.

"We walked side by side, talking about politics and philosophy, and she was really funny, but unfortunately the war was urgent, and she soon left Olympia with the fleet of the Thousand Sons and never returned: fortunately, we had each other's contact details, and for more than ten years, we became friends with each other as pen pals."

"It was probably a few years ago that she told me in her letter that she realized that she was a genetic protologist: of course, I was taken aback by the news and it took me a few days to recover, but it didn't affect our friendship, just like now, when we finally meet again."

"So you and I have the same purpose, Perturabo."

"So, don't you invite me into your great building to sit down? There should be a room for me so that I don't continue to freeze in the cold wind, right? Genoplasma adult? ”

“…… Hmph......"

Even with Peturabo's mind, he was stunned for the most brief moment to understand Kellyfanie's words, and the face of the original genogen seemed to be slightly distorted, and he snorted softly, without responding or refuting.

Eventually, Perturabo turned around and walked in front of Kellyphany, the dark face of the protogenone scaring a path through the Iron Warriors, leading to a temple that would only be used once.

——————

Without stopping, hesitating, or saying a word, Perturabo took control of the elevator and sent himself and Kellyfanie to the highest peak of the temple at the same time: low gray clouds hovered beneath their feet, a muffled thunderstorm brewing, and the sound of the Iron Warriors decorating on the floor below.

Perturabo walked out onto the balcony, and he waited for a moment until Kellyfanie walked over slowly, and he could hear her fingers grappling at the railing: it was normal, after all, it was hundreds of meters above the ground, enough to awaken any fear in the mortal's heart.

But once you overcome your fears, you can see a magnificent view: majestic mountains and vast deserts like the joke of the gods, spiral markings of all sizes form a unique and strange landscape, and the iron warriors dotted with them are in swarms, like the deadly nanobee swarms of ancient times.

The scene in front of him even reminded Perturabo of some memories: he remembered a fragment of his time with Kellyphonie in Olympia, when she was still the immaculate elf, standing with him on the balcony of the court of Rocks, overlooking the vast plain of Stratoitis, and the war machines he had built, and at that time, they were always talking happily, talking freely about ancient legends and cutting-edge technology, in the vapor of the hydrocarbons needed by those war machines. They can imagine the future, the grandeur of Olympia after the unification.

Is that...... How long ago?

Thirty-three years? Or thirty-four years?

He couldn't remember it clearly.

The genogen sighed, and then, he heard a sigh from beside him, that sigh came from Kellyfanie, who couldn't help but admire and surrender to the vision after she had overcome the height.

It was only then that Perturabo finally smiled.

He paused, pondered his question for a moment, and then spoke as slowly as he could, in the most businesslike tone possible.

"How's Olympia doing?"

He asked.

He was answered with a chuckle.

"Of course it's the same, everything is the same, more mountains, more factories, more forts and recruiters, it's not the same as when you left."

"If you really want to ask anything different, then I can only tell you: its vitality has waned, Olympia is no longer young than when you left, too many young people have walked into the Astarte warrior selection ground and never come out, and even the youngest child has to learn to say goodbye to their parents, because he could leave his homeland at any moment and become an Iron Warrior."

"And never to come back."

The original body was silent until the words finally dissipated in his ears, and he did not speak again after a long time, his voice changing back to that absolute determination and loyalty.

"This is glory, Kellyphany, this is the glory of Olympia: its offspring became Iron Warriors, heroes of empires, recovering countless worlds for humanity, destroying countless adversaries, and defending countless peaces."

"We are on the right path, Kellyfanie, so it is destined to be full of pain and trials, and Olympia is going through all this, and it will wade through these trials for humanity and attain eternal glory, and the unknown name of the present will only bring about the next 10,000 years of history."

"It's glory, I repeat, Kelly Fanny."

"Tell the parents who have lost their children about this glory, Perturabo, and tell the dying city-states and villages about your eternal history, and with your eyes that always look to the stars and the distance, to convince the deserted valley of Olympia, if you can do it."

"Can you do all this? Of course you can't, Perturabo, for you never want to return to Olympia, never to see it as it is, never to hear with your own ears the weepings of your people, you don't want to keep your eyes on the empty schools and homes, you don't want to hear the desperate cries of your mother's five sons when all her five sons were taken away, you don't want to go into the halls of what were once splendour, even if you were to praise its beauty and magnificence, and imagine what great meetings would be held there: but now, Let me tell you, there are no more meetings, for the best young men have joined your legions, and have become your warriors, and only the unrecognized vulgar and the weak have sat in positions for which they are not qualified, and they have been in fear. ”

The genogen clenched his fists tightly, and his finger bones creaked.

"I'm not going back, that's because I don't need to, Kellyfanny! When I left with the Emperor, I had given Olympia everything I had to give, I had given them unity and prosperity, I had given them reason and wisdom, I had given them a true way of thinking, guaranteeing them the ability to look at the past and the future on their own, and to walk their own way. ”

"Haven't I given them enough?"

"Didn't Olympia greet the Emperor with joy, cheer for me to give me their best offspring, and then witness our expedition to the stars?"

"Isn't it true that now, it is precisely because of my identity that I will bring the safest protection in the whole galaxy, so that Olympia will not be swept away by the nightmares in the galaxy, so that Olympia will no longer worry about the legend of the ancient Black Judgment, so that every generation of Olympians can immerse themselves in prosperity and comfort, and enjoy the unity and tranquility that their ancestors did not dare to dream of?"

"What more could they want!"

The angry roar of the genogen was like the roar of a dragon in the clouds, whipping into the ears of the unfortunate, and the Iron Warriors working on the lower floors trembled, busiing even more desperately with their work.

Kellyfanie, on the other hand, just shook her head.

"You always complain over and over again about what you give and what you give, but you never want to really think about what you have gained and what you have gained."

"You always take everything for granted, that everything is exchanged for equal value, so you give desperately, move yourself in the most difficult and savage way, to make sure that you have paid the most, and then rightfully wait for the most reward, for the world to run because of your thoughts that never manifest."

"How is this possible, Perturabo."

"Silent young birds will only starve to death."

"You slammed all your efforts, all your dedication, all your pride and motivation into the shadow that no one cared about, and then you just stood there, waiting, waiting for this shadow to become the focus of the world, waiting for everyone to notice you next to the shadow."

The protogen's hand was on top of the guardrail, trembling steadily, tearing the sturdy guardrail apart.

"You've always been like this."

"You're torturing yourself."

"Now, you're tormenting Olympia again, throwing the blood of this world into your shadows, hoping that it will flow on its own, at the feet of others, so that they will notice you."

"You feel that this is the way it should be, you feel that it is an honor for Olympia, and you feel that what you did a generation ago allowed you to take it from generation to generation and enjoy it with peace of mind."

"You're wrong, Peturabo."

"People used to cheer you because you were a great monarch, because you did bring what they wanted, because they longed for your enlightened rule to bring about a better future."

"People have surrendered to you because you are a strong iron fist, and you have proved that your strength can bring unity, and although it is not the kind of unity that everyone expects, tyrants are embraced because they have proved the reliability of security, and that bitter peace is better than romantic war."

"But what about now? Peturabo, what are you now? What are you like in the eyes of the new generation of Olympia? You are neither great nor mighty, because they have never seen you, because you have not given them hope, for you are exactly the same, if not more terrible, than the legendary Black Judgment: the Black Judgment is nothing but the messenger of the gods who has gone down to earth and snatched away a dozen children in a century, and you, and your king, will take away the best part of every generation of young people, and the second part as slaves and cannon fodder, and only the worst will be cast into the valley of Olympia. And if the war is urgent, you won't let go of even the worst options. ”

“……”

"You say you'll bring them glory and victory, but is that really the case? Is it true that what I have done to hide from the Olympians is false, Perturabo? ”

"The first thing you did, the first thing you gave them, the first thing you gave them, was eleven killing, which was to let them kill each other!"

"How can you do such a thing, in Olympia, even the most stubborn city-state has not been treated like this: once the matter is revealed, no father and city-state will hand over their children to a general who will order eleven killings, this is not glory, this is another kind of slaughter."

"That's their own problem!"

The Primordial roared, angry, and breathed heavily, a hot wave of air pouring out of his throat and chest, mercilessly scorching the air around him until it twisted.

"That's their incompetence! Their weakness! Their failures! They didn't do what they were supposed to do! What I did was the simplest and most reasonable punishment! And it turns out that it works! ”

"They weren't good enough! So I made them better! ”

"Is that wrong?"

He roared, like an enraged beast in the arena, his proud reason aside, and the coercion from the emperor's heir made Kellyfanie tremble subconsciously, but she gritted her teeth and stopped, she looked at her angry brother, and could only sigh.

"If your eyes only see the shortcomings, then your soul will never be satisfied."

"When you look at yourself, you only see what you give, but when you look at others, you only see what they get, and you never care about what they give."

"Because you don't care about them: never care, they're just a bargaining chip for you to accomplish your cravings, just a handkerchief to perform to wipe away tears when you feel sorry for yourself."

"If you continue to think that you are the only one in the world who is giving, Peturabo, you will always be so angry, you will always be stuck in the cycle of not being understood, because unless the whole world gives it to you, you will never think that you have been given what you deserve."

Kellyfanny's tears left traces on her face, and Perturabo instinctively tried to wipe them away, but never lifted her arm.

"Don't do it again, Perturabo, don't do it again, it will only hurt everyone around you, knowing that it will completely eat you up and burn you to ashes."

"Stop, come back to Olympia with me, if only to have a look, even if it's just to look at the room where you worked as a child, and look at the old soldiers who used to follow you."

"As long as ......"

She whispered, she cried, and she reached out a hand to grasp her brother's palm wrapped in cold steel.

But she was greeted only by Perturabo's relentless strength: the right power that would not hurt her, and that would clearly express the attitude of the Iron Lord.

"You're wrong, Kelly Fanny."

Perturabo stood still, looking coldly at his sister.

He knew, he knew, if it wasn't Kellyfanie, if it wasn't anyone else who had just said these words, if it wasn't for the splendor of the Great Expedition blooming in his mind.

——————

He's going to kill her.

There is no doubt about it.

——————

If not, the current Peturabo has not experienced the long, honorless and unencouraged, the tragic war that made his heirs bleed again and again, and the rebellion that left him with no face.

He would have killed her.

——————

"Let me tell you, Kelly Fanny."

The Lord of Steel stood there, his chest puffed out, full of glory as if he were a victorious one.

"You're wrong, you're ridiculously wrong."

"Your fault is that you are a mortal, your fault is that you can never understand my greatness, your fault is that you are intimidated by temporary difficulties and do not see the light after them."

"You have been struck down by the despair and weakness in your heart, and rightfully so, after all, you are only a mortal, you are not my true blood relative, and you have not walked side by side with me to gain the strength and faith of those great glories."

"It's not your fault, because you couldn't have done that."

Peturabo held his sister by his arms and gently flicked away her tears.

"I'm not mortal, sister."

"I'm so much more than that."

"One day, my talents will be used for the right thing, and I will create a spectacle that will be watched by the whole galaxy, and the buildings beneath our feet will be eclipsed."

"One day, my creation will stand proudly at the apex of the galaxy's greatest glory, and it will continue for 10,000 years, and the blessings will extend to mortals who cannot even be described in numbers."

"One day, the Iron Warrior will go to its rightful place, we will bloom in the light of the Great Expedition, the thirty years so far are just the initial test, this great journey will continue for fifty years, even a hundred years, two hundred years, when it comes to the end of that doomed victory, everyone will be amazed by the strength of the Iron Warrior."

"One day, all that I said would come true."

"One day, you will realize your mistakes and absurdities."

"One day, you will discover how ridiculous it is to try to measure the eternity of steel with your mortal heart, when you try to shake Perturabo's faith with your weak mind."

"Do you think the Olympia of your mouth, the Locks, Damex, the school, and the mortals you talk about, can shake my heart even the slightest?"

"No, Kelly Fanny."

"I've reached the galaxy, I've seen the true greatness and splendour, I've been to the worlds that really matter that deserve to be defended and captured."

"Olympia is just an old house, just an outdated invention, a rusty medallion, a piece of substandard steel that has been haphazardly thrown in a corner."

"Whatever happens to it."

"No matter what it thinks."

"I don't care."

With one hand, he gently stroked the top of Kellyfanie's head, satisfied that the soft strands of hair in his memory had not completely disappeared.

"Of course you can stay here, Kellyfanie, and I allow you to explain your friendship with my blood kin, and I allow you to feel the pleasures and slackness of mortals."

"But after that, please go back to Olympia, please don't wander around the stars, for the Milky Way is not a paradise of peace for mortals, at least, until I make it a paradise of peace, the Milky Way will not make you feel comfortable."

"Go back and wait."

"Lean on your fragile, mortal heart, and be uneasy."

"One day, I will return to Olympia, I will rebuild it, I will bring my great deeds, I will establish the honor of the whole empire, as the eternal symbol and soul of this world."

"When the time comes, let's talk again, you and me, which is right and which is wrong."

"Kelly Fanny, my sister."

"You must live long enough."

(End of chapter)