"It's a pleasure to meet you, brother." Peturabo said.

He skillfully told a lie, and by now, he was quite familiar with it. And the truth is: no, he didn't want to see Vulcan at all.

At least not yet.

Don't ask why.

"Me too." The dark-skinned and red-eyed giant replied with a smile. He wore a dark green robe with a clean gray shirt underneath, fitting his strange complexion and menacing eyes.

He sat in a large chair specially prepared by Perturabo, and despite its surprising size, Vulcan still looked strong. Of all the primordials, he is the only one who feels so inhuman, in every sense of the word.

And as the master, the Lord of Steel did not take his seat. After his greeting, he turned around and busied himself facing a large screen hanging on the wall.

This is his personal war room, where few people can meet or talk to him. It's very quiet, most of the place is filled with papers and databoards, and there are a few handmade items that bear the strong stamp of Peturabo – that is, to make something extraordinary and then discard it.

If it were Vulcan himself, he would never have done this. Anything that is put into the effort should be taken seriously, whether it's your own or someone else's.

However, he did not try to change Perturabo's mind. Everyone's personality is different, and forcing others to change will only usher in disgust. However, it is worth mentioning that Vulcan actually found a flower here, waiting quietly in a silver pot.

It was placed on a long table, and someone had covered it with paper, which was done very carefully. But the man forgot one thing

Flowers, after all, are fragrant.

Vulcan laughed, and Perturabo coughed without looking back, backhanding a piece of synthetic metal that lay under the screen. Vulcan caught it with one hand, and the cold and rough touch made him very satisfied.

There is no blacksmith who does not like iron.

He touched its surface and began to think about what kind of weapon it was suitable for, not saying a word about what he had discovered.

He didn't need to mention it, Peturabo himself would have said it.

Sure enough, in just a few seconds, the Iron Lord turned around. He stared blankly at Vulcan, pointing in the direction of the flower.

"I didn't find anything." Vulcan immediately said that such words were in some ways no different from not admitting himself.

Perturabo frowned, "Why can your lying skills be so inferior?" Don't you even want to deceive me seriously? ”

"I don't think lying is a good thing, especially to you, Peturabo." Vulcan smiled, replied, and placed the piece of metal on the table beside him.

Perturabo stared at him for a few more moments before he coldly relented and finally revealed the secret. With his hands behind his back, he stood up straight, and spoke slowly, as if he were giving an academic presentation.

"That's a gift from Califon." He said. The dizzy tyrant fled from her duties and left the matter to the others. She went to open a research lab to study how to reproduce the animals or plants of Guterra. That's one of her results. ”

Vulcan nodded, not asking why Perturabo was so clear about these things, you know, the tone of the Iron Lord was clear and unwavering, even a little disgusted.

He looked at the pot again, and its faint purple petals were folded together, and the petals were patterned, reflecting a startling splendor in the light, which was very noble.

"She said it was a purple variety of tulip." Peturabo said. "I know what a tulip looks like, but I'm not going to discourage her."

"Uh-huh," Vulcan nodded again, a little distracted, and his answer was a little perfunctory, just two dull nasal voices, which were very unusual.

Perturabo snorted coldly, then turned and went back to work.

Vulcan gave him a slightly strange look, but didn't say anything, just looked at the screen, and began to follow Peturabo's train of thought, trying to find something to do for himself from the embarrassment that was destined to be silent for a while.

Truth be told, it was a pleasure to watch Peturabo work.

He kept manually deriving, classifying, and summarizing complex data, all the time. Countless data and words crossed his eyes, but only a few deserved his careful attention, and most of the rest were categorized by him seemingly random but with great precision.

While doing this, he even had the spare energy to conduct war rehearsals and tactical exercises based on the situation in the István system, which sounded complicated and exhausting, but in Perturabo's hands, it was like art.

Vulcan looked at him with admiration and stood up contentedly, his expression changing. The light-hearted and cheerful atmosphere dissipated from his face, leaving only a frightening seriousness.

He walked over to Perturabo and waited quietly for a moment until he finished his work.

"Have you heard Conrad talk about those things?"

"What's the matter?"

"Prophecy, story—" Vulcan gestured. "—those words that would confuse people and think he had mental problems."

Perturabo's expression also became serious, he folded his hands, looked at Vulcan without a word, but solemnly, and only spoke slowly after a long time.

"Yes, I did."

"Well, that's it." Vulcan said.

He raised his hand, pulled a single word out of the torrent of data on the screen, and placed it in front of Perturabo.

"Whatever you think of them, at least we can spare many tongues, do you believe those words, brother?"

Perturabo stared at the word and shook his head slowly.

Istfan.

"So, let's talk about the commander first." Vulcan said that his deep voice echoed through the tactics room at the moment, so deep that it couldn't help but think of the echoes of the mountains.

"It's been five years since my father announced that he was the commander in Ulano. Do you remember that day? ”

"I remember the celebration more vividly." Peturabo said. "Especially Ruth."

Vulcan's attempt to stop himself from smiling failed—he smiled regretfully, trying to be serious, but now he couldn't help but bring with him some contemplation that was exclusive to memory.

"Yes, so did me, I remember Ruth trying to wrestle with me at the time, and anyway, I have to admit that the commander did a great job and he lived up to that title."

"However, there have been at least two orders from him recently that I cannot understand. First, he asks the Whisperers to fight alongside the Ultramarines. Second, he asked us to gather in Istfan. As far as I know, Fogham, Angelang, and Colax have all set off. ”

"So, if you count you and me, and Mortarian, and himself, that's seven legions. Why do you need so much Astart to deal with a rebellion on the scale of a galaxy? What the hell is he going to do here? ”

"I don't know." Peturabo said. "I don't think I need to know, just obey orders. The commander's orders are equal to the emperor's, and I swear that I will obey all our father's orders. ”

"I do the same, but you and I both know that Horus is not a father." Vulcan was silent for a moment before continuing. However, this matter can only be regarded as puzzling at best, he used to be like this, he liked to sell off, he liked to joke. Maybe the Istefan system really has a great enemy that we all need to face."

The Lord of the Fire Dragon smiled a little sadly, "Look, brother, I can find many reasons for him to excuse himself. If I hadn't heard Conrad, I'd be more than happy to do it. But I've heard, and so are you, brother. ”

"Words don't mean anything." Perturabo replied solemnly. "You said it yourself, and those words made one suspect that he might have a mental problem."

But he mentioned both of those things precisely. Vulcan looked away at the tulip.

"What two things?"

"Istfan, and the tulips."

"What are you talking about?" Perturabo frowned sharply. "What tulips?"

"That tulip that your sister Carliphon gave you, brother." Vulcan spoke slowly. "Conrad had mentioned it to me, and I watched him recover from a violent bout of seizures, and then he said about it."

"Go on." Peturabo threw a few words from between his teeth with a blank face.

"He said you're going to get a gift from someone in the future, but you're going to lose it."

"Bang ——!"

With a gloomy expression, Peturabo pushed Vulcan against the wall to the side and grabbed Vulcan's collar with his hand. He was far less tall than the Lord of the Fire Dragon, but his expression at the moment was so violent that it was terrifying.

"Say it again if you have the guts, Vulcan."

"Put away your anger, Perturabo." Vulcan told him very calmly. "I'm not done yet, and we're not done yet. You know in your heart that I didn't mean that, you're just angry with me. ”

"I won't lose!" The Iron Lord roared and let go of his hand, but he didn't deny that he was angry.

"Who?"

"The flower."

"Huh." Vulcan smiled and declined to comment.

He left the wall, straightened his clothes, and returned to what he was telling. Still acting sane and calm.

In short, he proved himself. At least on this flower, the kind of talent he called a curse didn't go wrong. This forced me to take some of his other words seriously. ”

Perturabo fell silent as he walked over to the long table and removed the stacked papers. He looked at the tulip, and his hands clenched little by little on the edge of the long table.

Vulcan's voice came from behind him: "I remember these words, and I can still repeat them to you now, Perturabo, if you want to hear them. ”

"No need." Peturabo said that his eyes were always on the flower. "It doesn't make sense, I don't believe that the one-sided aspects of the future he depicted will really become reality, and the emperor will never allow the future of mankind to be so dark."

He turned.

"Neither will I." The Lord of Steel said.

"So?" Vulcan looked at him inquiringly.

"So let's wait for Motarian for a moment. If I really want to discuss those things with you, I wish I had to say them again. ”

Vulcan smiled, nodded, and returned to his seat.

PS: The Horus Command mentioned in this chapter is my revised version. In the canon, Istfan V is a well-prepared trap that occurs after the Istfan III loyalists have fled back to Terra. I've made some changes, otherwise the plot progression is a little inconvenient.

I'm not referring to the hair knife.

(End of chapter)