"Of course she wasn't lying."

"She doesn't have to lie."

“……”

"Or, for the most part, she disdains lying: she prefers to play with the sequence of truth and incompleteness, which is a more sophisticated and despicable art of language, which she sees as her usual philosophy of action."

"She will follow this philosophy as if she were following the rules, and use clever words for material gain for herself, or mere psychological pleasure: we may also say that the act of obeying the rules is in itself a way for Morgan to entertain herself."

"She's a person who entertains to death: ever since her sense of crisis faded with her return to the Empire and the Legion, she's become a character who actively seeks to have fun, a jerk who likes to trip over others and take pleasure in it."

"It is only when words do not work, or when her interests and mood have suffered an abrupt loss that causes the instinct to disintegrate with it, that this blood relative of mine is in anger and uses her violent means: and even of all the primordials I have ever seen, Morgan's violence is the most terrible."

"She is more powerful than the other primordials, but more cruel than Magnus, and my bloodthirsty brothers, with all their might, can only cause a wave of destruction in one world, and Morgan can cause a more terrible havoc than them in a split second."

"She can inflict the most terrible depravity in the Primordial Body, but the greed in the depths of her soul makes him not regard destruction as the supreme enjoyment: I have to say, father, you have indeed made a very wonderful work."

"You have delicately tucked this berserk power into a silver-white cage and allowed it to restrain itself, so that you can contain the sheer force that should be out of control, without spending too much of your own precious energy."

"It's a kind of imperial miracle."

Conrad sighed with sincerity, like a believer singing the praises of the gods, but his sincerity was unreciprocated: in this high-altitude room, there was only silence colder than the air.

"Even though I have been with my blood relative, and have been observing, learning, and imitating her all the time, it has taken me a long time to see the mystery of your question about Morgan: a mystery that has benefited me greatly, father."

"But at the same time, it also raises a new question for me."

Midnight Ghost grinned, and he tapped his equally sharp teeth lightly with his slender fingers, then dropped his arm and picked up a grape that had tumbled to his feet, shoved it into his mouth, and only when he swallowed the last drop of juice that the somewhat indistinct Nostramo accent spat out his question.

"Can you answer me, father?"

"In the Empire, it is always said that each Primordial and their Astarte Legion are mutually reinforcing, two sides of the same coin, a projection of each other: what a legion looks like, then their Primordial is often what it is, and vice versa."

"And I think the best rebuttal to this theory is my ambitious brother Otlama: after all, everyone knows that the Thirteenth Legion, known as the Sons of War, was a gathering of warriors before Killeman returned, but my brother Killiman did not show enough in his dealings with me...... Steady. ”

"I was just going to visit his mother, and he was in a hurry: if I could see Miss Jurdon one day, I would have to talk to the old man about it in Gilliman's presence, and tell her that her son was bullying his brother outside."

"Ahem, that's far away."

"Therefore, I have reason to suspect that Killiman's current shrewdness and civil temperament are actually the result of his acquired education, and that he is not by nature a man who is suitable for handling documents, and that you may indeed intend to mold him into a man with great computing power, but your initial conception of him will definitely not be such a lord of nations."

"But on the other hand, I also have to admit that character positioning like Killiman and the Ultramarines will always be indispensable in the Great Expedition and in the long years to come, which means that when you first portrayed our brothers, you must have created similar characters, and there may be more than one."

"So ......"

“……”

"That guy is actually Morgan, right?"

"In your original plan, Morgan, would it be your Killiman?"

“……”

"Don't you answer me, father? I guess that's not a serious question, is it? ”

＋…… ＋

+ I can certainly answer this question for you, Conrad. ＋

+ But first...... ＋

＋…… ＋

+ Get off my desk! ＋

“……”

"Don't be~"

The Midnight Wraith grinned and sneered uncontrollably, and its sharp nails hooked the edge of the fruit bowl on the table, and with a slight upward force, it threw the whole fruit bowl into his other hand, and by the way, the fresh dew was sprinkled on the precious gauzy-white robe of the Lord of Humanity.

＋…… ＋

The emperor watched all this silently, he was not angry, but let a trace of helplessness appear in his gaze, the conqueror of the galaxy did not wear his armor at this time, but chose to sit on the stone chair in his usual clothes, one hand on his face, the other hand holding a brand new photograph.

Perhaps because of the clothes, his skin looked a little paler than usual.

Conrad liked the paleness, and he liked the helplessness of the Emperor's words now.

+ I have prepared a place for you, my son Conrad, opposite me, and you will be able to see it when you first come in: it is only when you sit up that I think there will be a proper meeting between the two of us. ＋

"But I don't want to have a so-called meeting with you, father, what can you tell me that I don't know? I'm just here to ask you a few questions, well, by the way, to get some food here. ”

"Your fruit here tastes good, but it's a pity that I didn't order bread to accompany my meal."

As he spoke, Conrad shoved the hazelnuts of all colors into his mouth, and his shriveled cheeks became bulging in an instant, like an abominable, greedy hamster.

＋…… ＋

The Lord of Mankind only remained patheticly silent, and he surprisingly did not continue to argue or argue anything, but leaned back in his chair a little tiredly, looked at the midnight ghost who was crouching on his table, swaggering and eating, and compared the picture in his hand, and the silent emotion dissipated into a soft sigh.

And that photograph happens to record everything that happened in front of the gate of the Terra Palace: Conrad in the photo looks thinner, he is a little to the right in the middle of the photo, forcibly hugged by Riemanrus next to him, and that pale face is barely squeezing out a reluctant smile, although his narrow face seems a little distorted, but it is more reassuring than the cheerful midnight ghost laughing next to the emperor at this moment.

Obviously not a Nostramo-type child, but how can he be like this in front of him?

At this moment, the Lord of Humanity was confused, but the confusion was harmless: no matter what, when the picture was carefully submitted to the Emperor by a Praetorian Army, the ruler of the Empire, the genetic father of the Primitives, was not destined to be in a bad mood.

Before Conrad arrived, he had been staring at the picture silently for half an hour: the emperor hadn't looked at anything for so long for a long time, after all, in this simple picture, there seemed to be something that would never be achieved, part of the emperor's original intention in shaping the genetic prototype.

At the beginning of the Great Expedition, this part of the original intention was the first thing he threw away, and it was the thing that made him feel the most heartache and nostalgia, but the Lord of Mankind knew that he would never have it again, just as this scene in the photograph would never be truly found in front of his eyes.

The Emperor's mind was rightly crossed by such thoughts, which made his hand stroking the photograph a little sluggish: Conrad noticed this, and the rebellious aura in him subsided considerably.

"Honestly, father."

Midnight Ghost chewed on a pear stuck in his mouth and spat the seed on the edge of the round table closest to the Emperor, forming a brown-black hill.

"I thought you would compensate Johnson and the Dark Angels with an honor, after all, Morgan's proposal was reasonable, but I'm afraid even Morgan himself would not have thought that you would give the Dark Angel Legion such obvious honor, and allow them to leave this evidence."

"I mean: if someone accidentally leaks this picture, wouldn't you worry that some of your other sons would be jealous of what's in it? For example, a certain wolf shepherd god who is in the limelight? ”

The interrogation from the Midnight Ghost finally took the Human Lord's eyes off the picture, and he looked at Conrad, his pupils still full of the absolute confidence and pride that he deservedly and hated.

+ You should not doubt your brother's level of secrecy, nor the heart of your brother Horus, Conrad: Horus knows, he has the better. ＋

"Better?"

Conrad pulled out the pear in his mouth.

"Have you taken a picture with him too? Right on the doorstep of Terra Palace? ”

＋…… ＋

"You see, no, so why do you believe he has better?"

"Or how can you be sure of what is better in our minds, what we need, and what is harmless to us: you can't define what we think in our hearts, you can't read minds, and you don't know how to foresee the art of the future, like me and St. Giles."

+ But I am your Maker. ＋

The Lord of Humanity carefully put away the picture in his hand, and placed it in the inside of his robe, close to his heart: this action was seen by the Midnight Ghost, and Conrad subconsciously slowed down his pace, and even the action of chewing fruit became gentle.

+ You are my creatures, and I know what you need: because your knowledge of the world and your determination of self-responsibility come from the desires of your hearts, and I have put your desires in your souls, so I know what you need. ＋

"Oh, desperate speech."

Conrad sighed without wavering.

"But, you don't know."

Midnight Wraith pursed his lips, and in anger he slammed a half-eaten fruit into the wall, then bounced off and fell into the trash can in the corner.

"If you really knew, then why did you give the power that was completely hidden in the shadows to Nineteen, and not to me?"

"You can give the two of us the same power, give it fairly, and even if the power you give me comes at a price, I won't refute this wrong sentence you said as I do now."

Conrad's anger rose, his brow furrowed, the corners of his mouth cracked, revealing sharp teeth, and the ugly ripples of his pale, wrinkled skin, which made his widening eyes look extraordinarily large, and he was like a mad beast, showing his anger and confusion towards the Lord of Humanity.

But this did not affect the categorical nature of the emperor's words at all.

+ Because you don't need it. ＋

+ No judge is required to be able to hide in the shadows, to be respected, to make rules and regulations: for hiding itself means an escape, that he does not dare to face what he has created with his own hands, and all its consequences, and if the judge himself does not dare to meet all that the judgment brings, then his judgment will be doomed to be nothing more than a deception.

“……”

"I can't tell you, father, and I don't bother to tell you more."

Just in a split second. The utter madness on Midnight Ghost's face retracted as if they had never been there, and he withdrew his claws in disgust, crossed his legs, and sat down on the table next to the emperor, hooking his ankles with his fingers, and his head tilted back, shaking in a regular manner, like a tumbler without a center of gravity.

He was silent for a long time, but he still seemed a little unwilling.

"Then why did you give that ability to Nineteen? Based on that brother who is so similar to me? ”

+ Because of the nineteenth trumpet...... ＋

"Clarks, father."

Conrad looked at the ceiling, not at the emperor.

"His name is Clarks."

+ It doesn't matter what his name is, my son Conrad, the name is just a code name, what really matters is self-awareness and the place he has chosen for himself in this world. ＋

+ The ability to be completely hidden in the shadows has never been taught to you to escape or hide, but to be active: it is meant to keep you out of the way, so that you can observe what is happening before you from a more objective and unforgiving point of view, and thus make your own judgments. ＋

+ This is the true usage hidden in the shadows. ＋

"Then why can't I?"

+ Because you are the Inquisitor and your brother is the Shadow: The Shadow is only a shadow of the Light, and his task is to faithfully imitate and record the appearance of the Light, so he does not need more empathy and appearances. ＋

+ But you are different, my son Conrad: you are the Inquisitor, and the Inquisitor cannot hide in the shadows, but the Inquisitor must stand in the midst of those who are being judged, must be able to feel what is in their hearts, and must be able to understand what makes them make their choice. ＋

+ You can disagree with their respective philosophies, or you can disapprove of their final actions, but you have to know, but you have to empathize, otherwise, you will never be able to make any fair judgment. ＋

“……”

"Maybe I don't want to, maybe I don't want to be a judge."

"How do you know that I will be the Inquisitor, Father: just as Killiman went from being a son of war to being an archon of Maculag, just as Riemanluth was transformed from a general of Terra to the barbarian king of Fenris, how confident are you that you will be able to take full control of our future when you are forging us?"

+ Indeed, I have no faith. ＋

The emperor replied fluently, he was neither anxious nor obscure, but reached out and grabbed a fruit on the table, slowly rubbed the dew off its surface with his fingers, and then put it in his hand to play.

+ And I don't need to have that kind of faith. ＋

+ Counting your brothers, I have created a total of twenty primitives, and they will also command twenty legions, and among these twenty primordials and twenty Astarte legions, I can assure you that none of them will be an absolute necessity. ＋

+ The loss of any of you will cause some distress to me, but it will not be devastating: you must know how vast the cause I have created, in the face of which the existence of individuals is insignificant, and no matter how incomparable your talents as genetic agents may be in the professions you are working with, your individual talents are not enough to create an absolute impact in the face of the flood of needs of the whole galaxy. ＋

+ Don't think too low of anyone and don't think too highly of yourself. ＋

+ And until then, at least until we met for the first time, you had been making this mistake, Conrad: you were standing on top of a high, abandoned building, with only a gargoyle as your company, and you couldn't see what was going on on the ground, you could only make vague judgments through the blurred light and shadow. ＋

“……”

Conrad remained silent, retracting his gaze and looking at the Emperor once more. The slender neck creaked: Now, the Midnight Wraith only felt a little strange, and he was sure that the words he had been looking forward to coming out of the Emperor's mouth might not have liked him, but they must have been some answer he had hoped for.

It was only when these words finally came out of the Emperor's mouth that Midnight Wraith realized that he didn't really want to hear these things as he had expected.

After all, he had known every single sentence of it for a long time, and he knew their correctness, and he didn't even need Morgan to force it into his mind, he had already figured out some of the truths that the emperor had said in his time at Nostramo.

Although he still didn't like these words.

But......

“……”

The Emperor, the father of his genes, doesn't seem to be as omnipotent as he thinks: at the very least, the Lord of Humanity can't convince the Midnight Ghost with words.

“……”

He's discovering this.

The emperor is not omnipotent.

“……”

I see.

When Conrad suddenly figured it all out, Midnight Ghost felt his soul seem relieved: and it wasn't until this moment that he realized that there seemed to be some kind of smile on his face, something from his heart that the complex mind could not feel.

That's a real smile.

……

It was a smile that disgusted him.

How could a smile like this appear on the face of the Midnight Ghost?

Conrad spat on himself, but he didn't restrain the smile on his face, and continued to throw a new question at his great genetic father with a face that he felt was a little uncomfortable in the emperor's heart.

Unlike before, this question is downright ill-intentioned.

"No one is absolutely important?"

+ Of course. ＋

“……”

"Even St. Giles?"

＋…… ＋

Conrad could assure him that he was smiling genuinely when he saw that serious expression fully appear on the Emperor's face for the first time: for a moment, he could even understand why Morgan took pleasure in playing with the emotions of others.

The pain and embarrassment of others is really a good medicine for joy.

However, the emperor does not seem to think so.

In fact, his face was a little more serious than Conrad had imagined.

+ Do you seem to have malicious intentions towards one of your brothers? ＋

"No, father, you're wrong."

The Midnight Wraith shook its head solemnly.

"I'm not malicious to my brother St. Giles, I'm very equal, I'm malicious to each of my brothers, St. Giles is just unfortunate enough to be picked by me, after all, he's less than three kilometers away from us in a straight line."

"And. The opponent he's going to face at the moment is a far more terrifying one than the half-one you're up against: you shouldn't have let Morgan meet him alone, father. ”

"That's so unfair to St. Giles."

＋…… ＋

+ I know. ＋

There was a trace of helplessness in the dark golden pupils of the Lord of Mankind, obviously, as the Emperor of the Empire with monstrous hands and eyes. Morgan's performance in front of the angels, and the most obvious provocative words, did not escape the Emperor's ears: in the Terra Palace, he had too many ways to know what Morgan and St. Giles were talking about at this time.

+ In fact, at this very moment, that sister of yours is ...... ＋

"Nonsense?"

＋…… Almost. ＋

+ She is shaping unnecessary panic in your brother's heart, stirring up a relationship between me and St. Giles, and I don't know what material benefit it is for her, perhaps, as you say, she is just trying to entertain me without purpose. ＋

"Ah......h

"It's something she can do."

Conrad nodded in agreement, then looked at his genetic father.

"So, aren't you going to stop it?"

+ There's no reason for me to wipe your blood kin's ass, Conrad, and if I need to fix it every time she has fun, then I won't have to do anything else for the whole time of the Great Expedition. ＋

"But she's wiping your ass, my dear father."

"And the biggest piece of non-recyclable stuff you threw at Morgan is right now in front of you."

＋…… ＋

+ You have indeed changed a lot. ＋

"Do you think it's good or bad?"

＋…… ＋

"It can't get any worse."

The emperor sighed, sighing helplessly.

+ Your sister is indeed very good, she has helped me with certain problems, and she has behaved far beyond my imagination in the face of some difficulties, but in spite of all she is an unqualified daughter, a naughty child, and I cannot think of any reason for her to incite such terror in the presence of St. Giles except to satisfy her own bad heart. ＋

+ Shouldn't she have found a way to calm St. Giles' panic, and not add fuel to the fire of St. Giles' anxiety, as she is doing now? ＋

"Of course she has thought of a way, father, even I can think of a way, Morgan can't think of it: but here, I'm going to appeal for her."

Conrad spun around on the table, he shifted his seat, sat upright in front of the emperor like a cat, and coughed his throat to make his voice sound hoarse.

"Morgan and I know it, father, and even you know."

Conrad's voice was low, and his hoarse voice let out a giggle.

"Isn't the best way to calm St. Giles' anxiety is you: St. Giles is less than three thousand meters away from you right now, and you just need to spare less than five minutes in your precious thirty-thousand-year life, rush to him, slap him to the ground, and tell him, your father, I don't care about your legion being bloodthirsty."

"Isn't that what it is?

"After all, how could Morgan, even if he swore in front of St. Giles, and vouched for his legion and the entire Far Eastern Frontier, say such a sentence in front of St. Giles in less than five minutes?"

"The source of his fear, but you."

"Why don't you do that?

＋…… ＋

"Is there no time?"

"Impossible."

"You've got time for my oversized piece of non-recyclables here, rambling and chatting pointlessly, there's no way you can't live without those five minutes."

"Or ......"

Conrad tilted his head, and he winked his eyes mockingly.

"In your mind, St. Giles isn't really that important: after all, a mutant that is beyond your original plan, and a legion that doesn't have much significance, might be a good bargaining chip in that future trade that may not be avoidable?"

"Subjectively, maybe you're not trying to trade them out."

"But leave a handle for the archangel to have a depraved weakness, and use this high-profile genetic prototype as some kind of bait to hang those in the subspace who are betting against you: this seems to be an act that the Lord of Humanity can do?"

＋…… ＋

"Don't you answer me, father?"

"Or ......"

+ Conrad. ＋

The fingertips of the Lord of Humanity had a slight loss of control on the table, causing a corner of this precious table to be directly snapped off, falling to the ground and crackling.

+Let's talk about your legion. ＋

“……”

"As you wish, father."

Conrad was stunned for a moment.

And then he smiled brightly.

——————

At this moment, the emperor seemed to see one of his daughters.

His intimate padded jacket.

……

The padded jacket that suffocated him.

(End of chapter)