Time does not pause at anyone's will. It treats everyone equally, even those who can afford to extend their lives by replacing body parts, but also endure its merciless and fair pass.

They may be able to live longer than the average person, but their skin will be wrinkled and their replaced organs will age just as well. However, for Conrad Coetze, he wished that time could be extended for a while.

He didn't ask for much, he just hoped that one minute would turn into 180 seconds, so that he could have more time to pick out the clothes he needed for the meeting.

"Isn't that a little too frivolous?" He asked his company commander with a little worry. "This dress, Fugen said was used for banquets."

Van Cleef didn't speak for the first time, he looked at the black gown with a swallowtail and silver trim that shimmered at the edge of the garment, and coughed, "It's really good for a banquet, Original." ”

Conrad Coetzes naturally heard what he meant.

"So, what about this one?"

He picked up another one instead, a blouse that had a typical archon temperament, with a high collar, clean lines, and simplicity to the point of being a style of its own. If Van Cleef was to choose, he would naturally choose this one without hesitation.

However, in the meeting twenty minutes later, he was not the protagonist.

And even if he is, there are some things that make him pinch his nose and choose that luxurious dress.

So he just nodded: "It's not suitable for banquets, Primordial." ”

"What kind of banquet is not a banquet?"

Coates couldn't turn his head away from laughing. "Twenty minutes from now is a meeting, a meeting, Van Cleef. Haven't they all docked with us? Again, you told me. ”

"Hmm"

A company commander let out a slightly dry grunt from his throat, and after a brief silence, he said, "Maybe there is, the original." ”

"Huh?"

Kotz turned his head with an eyebrow and glanced inquiringly at Van Cleef. The commander of the first company was finally defeated after a short exchange of eyes, and had to express some of his guesses and worries.

"Actually, the situation with the logistics fleet is somewhat complicated. In addition to the basic escort fleet, there are also a number of Ultramarines who work together on it. And what the specifics were, we don't know, we only know that the leader was an officer named Lucretius Corvo. ”

Coetzes frowned, he was really a little confused now.

"Coming here from the Extreme Star Field, it would not be easy for anyone to work so long in security. They have worked hard, but those who have traveled long distances need hot food and a restful rest. What's the deal with a banquet? ”

"No, I mean, primitives, they- I mean- in short, uh"

"Say whatever you want, Van Cleef, do you still have to keep the conversation between you and me secret?" Coetzes chuckled helplessly.

The company commander took a deep breath.

"In short, I would say that extreme warriors may think that banquets are a common thing."

"Usual?"

"Yes. Master Robert Killriman famously said. He took the banquet after victory for granted, just as a blaster should be accompanied by a blaster. In fact, in the few collaborations we've had with the Ultramarines, they've shown this strong inclination - I mean, after every victory, they're going to have a party, and it's the kind of banquet that is so extravagant that you don't have a good time. ”

A long series of words from the commander of the company made the Lord of the Eighth Legion silent.

It was the first time Van Cleef had said so many words in one breath in front of him, and it should be a rare moment for him to remember. But he didn't know whether to write it down now.

".Primordial?" The commander of a company looked at him cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Conrad Coetzes said lightly. "I think it's better for me to hurry up and decide what I should wear to meet them next."

He sighed inevitably, and began to worry about what he would do if he really needed to have a banquet.

Now, there is not even a bottle of beer left in the warehouse of the Nightfall.

——

Lucretius Corvo straightened his clothes with a melancholy face.

He wasn't wearing power armor, and rightfully so—who would wear armor and weapons when they went to meet an original in non-war time?

Although the venerable Genogen had only recently returned to the Empire, that didn't mean he shouldn't be respected.

If anyone dared to think so, Corvo would tell him what respect meant in Robert Killiman's name.

After all, upon hearing of the existence of his new brother, the Lord of Maculag was very happy. Although he didn't say it explicitly, all the Ultramarines could see the change in the mood of their genetic father.

In fact, if it weren't for Robert Killman's orders, Lucretius Corvo wouldn't have gone here with five hundred Ultramarines.

Looking in the mirror, he silently recited the name of the planet.

Nostramo.

When viewed from the portholes of the ship, Nostramo is a gloomy planet. Corvo had seen many planets, but this one had impressed him - he had rarely seen a planet that was completely gloomy and lightless.

How can people survive without light?

The question crossed his mind, and then quickly slipped away.

He straightened the collar of his clothes one last time, and now he looked dignified in the mirror.

He shaved his stubble, smeared his hair oil, and his blue turtleneck shirt embroidered with gold thread was solemnly silent on him, and on his right shoulder there was an Ultramarines' insignia that glittered. Looking into the mirror, Corvo gave a stiff smile.

Then the chagrin begins—inevitably the chagrin begins.

How? Why are you so nervous? The faces of the Ultramarines and Kiliman are going to be lost to you, Lucretius Corvo! How can you be so nervous?!

He roared to himself in his heart, but his face remained unwavering. But it doesn't matter – or rather, it can't be a concern for him.

Because the door to his room had been pushed open. The door's automatic identification system broke down during the voyage, and since then, anyone has had to manually push it open to enter it. With a muffled sound of metal clashing, a tired-looking official stood in front of the door.

"Master Lucretius Corvo." He made a numb Aquila salute, then raised his right hand, and a stack of papers shook lightly on it. "As you requested, I've reclassified the list of supplies."

"Thank you, Barlecro."

"Don't thank me just yet." The official grunted. "Please don't let me attend the dinner later, let's just say I'm sick, I just want to sleep twenty-four Terra hours now"

Shaking his head, Lucretius Corvo walked over to the door and took the stack of papers. He didn't look at them, but carefully placed them into the inner lining of his jacket.

He was not worried that they would bend, the paper of documents produced by the empire was very hard. In fact, over the years, a significant portion of the Ministry of Administration has spent on the treatment of hand cuts for new officials.

"I'll tell Master Conrad Coetze." Corvo said in an affirmative tone.

He regretted it when he had said that, and felt that he had been reckless, but Baleclo's eyes lit up to make it difficult for him to say no more words of refusal. And, in fact, he could see that the official had reached his limit.

Otherwise, who wouldn't want to see a genotype in person?

"Goodbye, then." Baleklo happily saluted him again and left.

Corvo looked at his distant back, shook his head, turned around, and walked in the opposite direction of him.

He walked calmly in the corridor with his head held high, his boots sewn from expensive animal skins shining, and the whole person looked shining, but two hearts were beating fast.

Five minutes later, he reached a deck through a large, swarthy archway.

His brothers were already waiting for him there. They lined up, each dressed differently, but maintaining a palpable regularity, order, and harmony. The most important thing is that everyone is very suitable for the dress code.

Lucretius Corvo nodded in satisfaction. His adjutant stepped forward and whispered with a blank face and twitching eyes, "Sir, the cuff of your right sleeve is not buttoned. ”

Corvo was horrified.

He lowered his head, slammed it on, and then took a deep breath, "Thank you for the reminder." ”

"You're welcome." The adjutant said with a blank face. "Just, I wonder what phalanx we should go out in and board the Nightfall?"

Corvo didn't answer for a moment, but asked another question: "What about the Mechists?" ”

"They've already done the docking an hour ahead of us." So said Lucretius Corvo's aide-de-camp. "In fact, they were already on their way to work while we were still busy picking out clothes. They are purifying the atmosphere of Nostramo. ”

"What?!" Corvo was shocked. "Why didn't the priest tell me?"

Sir, the Empire and the Mechonists are allies, and he is theoretically an officer of the same rank as you. So why did he report back to you? ”

"These goddamn red-robed weirdos"

"Ahem." The adjutant raised his head and said expressionlessly. "Be careful, sir."

Lucretius Corvo didn't say anything more, he just took a deep breath and said aloud: "Use the ninth formation, my brothers!" Remember, don't disgrace our Father! Keep the grace, keep the elegance, keep everything you should keep! ”

There is also a chapter in 4k

(End of chapter)