Chapter 223: Pharos

He is the beginning and the end. He is the first and the last. The unrighteous, let him be unrighteous still. The filthy, let him be filthy still. The holy, let him be holy still. He who washes his robes will have the right to the tree of life. He who hears should say, Come. He who is thirsty should come.

I bear witness to everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book, if anyone adds anything, He will add to him the plagues described in this book. If anyone takes away anything, He will take away his part from the tree of life and the city of dust described in this book. Yes. I will come soon. - "Revelation: Perfect City"

When they arrived at the core of the operation of Mount Pharos, Barabas Dantioch was introducing the role of Pharos to the two Primarchs standing side by side in the Iron Blood several light years away.

"This device works on the principle of quantum entanglement between particles. This is a natural phenomenon, Lord Morse, but this machine can use it to induce stable resonance between extremely distant spaces."

Dantioch's voice trembled in the low hum of the engine music, and the joy and passion inspired in it were rare for a Space Marine. Even though the helmet blocked his expression, the focus and vitality displayed by the Iron Warrior were still highlighted in the strength and tension of his gestures.

Of course, the discovery of this device in Mount Pharos, the function of the device, and the meaning behind the function are enough to mobilize the surging heart of anyone who has some knowledge and expectations of this galaxy.

"We have been working on this device these days. It can have many applications. For example, energy beams for atomizing targets and force field generators for deflecting the phase of objects. And so on."

"In addition, we can confirm that it uses an unknown logic and unfamiliar means to call up and project the images presented in the user's mind, which allows the user to talk to the person or place in the most direct way. And where we are, I believe it is the core of this place."

"Thank you, Dantioch." Perturabo said on the other side, "I will discuss it with Guilliman."

Dantioch cut off the communication, turned around, and saluted the visiting Primarch and craftsman with Alexis Pollax standing beside him.

"Excellent demonstration. I need to check here, warrior." Morse said, waiting for Dantioch to respond. After Perturabo nodded, Dantioch made an invitation gesture.

The golden power was divided into several filaments, wandering and flickering in the cave.

The interior of this wide cave is in the shape of a hemisphere with a radius of about 100 meters. It has a large piece of clear black stone, like half a black pearl that was cut flat from the middle and then placed on the ground. It is connected to many deep and smooth passages, and slopes without steps or transmission and transportation devices, which together form a huge and complex strong connection block. Artificial platforms, bridges and stairs were laid on the surface of this unknown black stone as the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists team explored.

Morse can confirm that the driving energy of this material is definitely not psychic energy. In fact, he prefers to call it a cutting-edge technology that cannot be interpreted by the current level of human technology and does not rely on the power of the warp. He suddenly wondered if the Emperor would like this technology.

"You can continue to introduce Pharos to me directly, child." Perturabo looked at Dantioch and Pollax, who was particularly tall for some reason, and had some irrelevant thoughts on the choice of how much to lower his head. "If you have a different opinion, you can also tell us, Alexis Pollax."

"I don't know this device as well as he does." Pollax said.

"I don't really understand the device either."

"But he can learn to use it, and I can't."

"It's just because you haven't tried enough, Alexis. This machine works by feeling alone."

"You've said that nearly a hundred times, Barabas."

"Enough." Perturabo and Morse uttered the word at the same time in different tones, and they looked at each other for this.

"Who's interested in giving us a demonstration instead of continuing to bicker in this dark cave, warriors? No need for verbal introductions, I'm going to try to do some dynamic analysis when the machine starts."

Dantioch walked forward and debugged the device he had been tinkering with for several weeks. The energy peak displayed in the additional detection unit began to increase, and the vibration frequency stabilized after increasing. Pharos hummed under his hands, and this long and dull roar was quietly swallowed up after contacting the dark stone wall.

Soon, the wall began to ripple, and then, a moment later, the light suddenly changed, and a huge iron-gray flagship appeared in the center of the void with the background of Macragge's stony planet miniature.

The focus was on the flagship, and the picture continued to zoom in, penetrating the flagship's solid steel shell, the front half of the ship, which was shaped like the tip of a gun, and quickly penetrated into the workshop at the bottom of the ship.

There, the tall images of the two Primarchs who were talking quickly became clear.

"That's me." Perturabo said.

Dantioch nodded silently, trying to show his approval as much as possible within the limited range of his head. Perturabo realized that his descendants didn't like to take off their helmets when they saw him, which made him feel subtly puzzled. Didn't they want their expressions to be exposed?

In the Iron Blood, Perturabo's reaction proved that he noticed that Dantioch's image had appeared in the workshop. Dantioch saluted the Primarchs simply: "Master Guilliman. Master Perturabo."

"It seems that you have mastered the use of the device inside Mount Pharos, Dantioch." Perturabo said on the other side, "There will be no abrupt movement and flashing every three seconds."

"Yes, father." Dantioch answered smoothly, "but the working principle of this device is still unknown."

"I have always believed that the essence of all technology is just to narrow the distance between the theoretical framework and the object itself. In fact, we cannot be said to know the working principle of anything. Of course, my views have never been of positive reference value." Morse said, "You operate too fast, and the fluctuation rate of energy is too large, which is not a good thing for observation. Alexis Pollax, if I remember your name correctly, are you interested in trying it?"

Dantioch saluted Perturabo on the other side again, ended the contact, and looked at Pollax.

Pollax's face, which was as serious as his genetic father, added a deeper seriousness. Sometimes, such characteristics have a certain funny quality.

Soon, the tall Imperial Fist warrior gave up resisting the gazes of a famous mysterious craftsman, his good friend, and two primarchs who looked almost the same, and began to debug the equipment with almost heroic determination. Sweat began to flow down his face and fell into his bright yellow work robe.

"Don't try to defeat it, follow it, Alexis, don't be afraid of failure, but don't be dominated by it." Dantioch reminded, swallowing more words that sounded too intimate to the primarch's ears for warriors of different legions.

"I'm trying."

"Yes, brother, feel it all. You have taken so many notes, I believe you are ready."

Polax gritted his teeth and tried hard, his face flushed.

"Logic leads us here, Alexis, but this machine needs emotions. Although strong emotions are contrary to our discipline, we cannot deny it. I believe you have greater potential than me."

Perturabo gave up thinking about why this clumsy Imperial Fist could be so favored by his son who was decisive, creative and technical.

"Okay. Our gaze makes the warriors nervous, Perturabo." Morse laughed, "Why don't you try it yourself?"

Polux began to breathe. For at least five minutes, the Imperial Fist had completely forgotten about this.

"Sorry." He said dully, and although he was facing the Primarch, this sentence sounded more like he was talking to Dantioch.

"It's okay, not everyone has talent. Not all talents can be discovered." Perturabo said, excited.

In front of this new technological creation, he could no longer bear his love and desire to explore. Or rather, he couldn't wait to use this machine himself.

"Warriors, please leave here first." Morse reminded.

"Yes," said Pollax, followed by Dantioch. "We'll wait in Room 2 outside of Prime Location 1," said the latter.

In addition, this is Prime Location 1, and this naming method seems to prove Dantioch's naming level in a sense.

They left together soon.

"Use emotions to mobilize, right?" Perturabo said to himself, already extending his hand, "I don't know if this half-mechanical, half-spell iron ring shell can meet the needs."

Morse grabbed his hand. "Before that, let's discuss some other issues first."

"Are there any hidden dangers?" Perturabo asked immediately. The joy of seeing the strange thing was suppressed in an instant, and ruthless rationality regained the upper hand. "Shouldn't we use this place?"

"It's not easy to evaluate. I'm unfamiliar with the power that drives this place, but in the operation just now, some details are indeed worth studying."

Morse let go of Perturabo, folded his hands around his chest, walked around the heavy cables on the ground and the mechanical detection boxes that had nowhere to be placed, stopped at the control console, and looked at the pointer on the brass dial that had been reset.

"Even though the magnitude of energy, especially the energy of the subspace, is difficult to measure, the power to drive the operation of the machine will not come out of thin air, and the emotions that a Space Marine can mobilize without psychic means, and the subsequent emotional power brought by emotions, can never drive a conversation across tens of millions of light years."

"You think emotions are a fuse." Perturabo said, knowing that Morse was right.

"Or an instruction to inform the operator who is operating this machine of the next step."

"Is there life operating this alien ruin?" Perturabo frowned, and his light-colored eyes were filled with careful thinking. Dead alien civilizations are worth using, but living ones are another matter entirely.

"You are right in one thing, that is, some tasks cannot be completed by Space Marines." Morse looked at Perturabo and said. "I personally support you to try this device, but I can't guarantee you anything. The good news is that even if there are still living aliens operating this relic, it is certain that it is weak and bound. I can't explore more details. However, if you find any dangerous signs during the trial..."

He thought for a moment.

"Good luck?"

Perturabo sighed. "That doesn't sound very friendly, Morse."

"Oh, my dear Iron Lord, on the throne, if you continue to speculate about me like this, I will hit you hard with the golden pen of the Imperial Regent Malcador..."

"I hope you can change a way to help me mobilize my emotions, Morse!"

——

Time and space were distorted by huge forces in the empty tunnel, illusions and forgotten fragments were sleeping in the cold darkness, and ancient machinery was humming.

When Perturabo opened his eyes, he saw a line of people in pale protective suits leaving the distorted picture. He smelled a metallic chemical solvent filling his nostrils, and found himself curled up inside a huge pipe, supported and floating by a high-density liquid.

He stared ahead, through the curved glass tube, his underdeveloped eyes vaguely recognized the outside world. The rock wall was dark, the sound of falling water, and there were more glass tubes, one after another. Greek columns. This noun suddenly appeared in his mind, as if it had always been there, and existed before he really understood the world. He had this word, which made him feel satisfied and scared.

He moved his suspended legs and feet, moved in the pipe, and put his hands on the wall of the glass tube. Cold. Another concept appeared, entering his mind with its manifestations in thousands of languages ​​and cultures, like a drop of water falling into a glass full of water.

Opposite him, under the rows of test tubes stood many people, bent over the workbench, eyes pressed against the instruments used for observation. Biology. Genetics. Genetic engineering. Work. Task. Creation. Another series of nouns.

He tried to see the test tubes opposite him clearly, but it was a futile attempt. His calculations told him that his vision was not enough to support an observation with the precision he needed. He did not feel sorry. He turned his ears to listen to the low hum of hundreds of instruments that operated on the basis of electricity. He could control them. He knew. He realized that he liked them.

After thirty-one microseconds, he turned his head to the left. Someone was coming. He knew.

On the other side of the glass, a person was looking at him. He was wearing a scientist's white coat, his long hair was tied behind his back, and he was neither tall nor short. Slender, but not thin.

He was handsome, or maybe not that handsome. No, this was an indicator that was difficult to measure with data and reason. He shouldn't have used this method of calculation.

If it weren't for the terrifying sense of power that the visitor possessed, like a stellar furnace, perhaps he would be no different from any ordinary existence. This deterrent force frightened him at first, but as the visitor approached, the fear was replaced by calmness, and the calmness brought enough peace of mind to relax him.

He found that he could speak.

"Emperor." Perturabo said, his forehead against the cold glass tube, "You are the Emperor."

"Yes." The scientist said.

"You come to visit your creation."

"Yes." The Emperor admitted, "Many times, Number Four."