A grave.
When these two words came from Leticia's mouth, the entire world suddenly fell silent.
Perturabo's recent wails and his questions echoing between heaven and earth were both interrupted by these two words.
Above the sky, Perturabo's blurred holographic image froze.
The expression on his face solidified, and his eyes became hollow.
"A... grave?"
His throat was very dry as he struggled to squeeze out the word.
Perturabo repeated it, chewing on it, seemingly unable to understand why this simple word was so heavy—heavy enough to destroy him.
Perturabo's brain was comparable to precise machinery, stuffed with complex formulas and cold war data. But now, because of a simple word, this machine had completely crashed for the first time.
Leticia paid Perturabo no mind.
She didn't look at him either, merely raising her eyes to cast a calm gaze past that colossal figure toward the iron fortress named hatred behind him.
Then, Leticia stated the fact in a calm tone:
"You built all of this for only one purpose."
"Your fortress, your legion, your wars... everything was to completely isolate yourself from this universe."
"To lock yourself away forever."
Leticia's voice remained calm, but every word pierced deep into Perturabo's soul, touching the darkness he himself didn't dare face.
"Because you are afraid."
"You are afraid of being betrayed, of being mocked, and of not being understood."
"So you reject everything that comes close to you, and you reject all the goodwill that might hurt you."
Leticia's gaze seemed to pierce through time and space.
She saw that child atop the snowy peaks of Olympia, lonelily building exquisite machinery, only to be viewed as a monster by his adoptive father.
She also saw that son in the Terra Imperial Palace, longing for his father's recognition, only to receive coldness and neglect in return.
Finally, it was the night before the Horus Heresy—the Primarch who desperately warned everyone, only to be misunderstood by all and hunted by his closest brothers.
For the first time, Leticia's expression changed.
But the words she spoke were even colder and more cruel than this iron land.
"Using the strongest materials in the universe and the best skills you possess, you built for yourself a perfect, sturdy, and lonely..."
"—Grave."
"And then..."
Leticia's voice paused.
She raised her eyes, her pure black pupils staring directly at Perturabo. His pupils were constricting violently.
Leticia uttered the final sentence.
"Then, you allowed those children who trusted and followed you, those Iron Warriors who saw you as their father and god..."
"...to become, before this lonely grave of yours, cold pieces cast from loyalty and blood..."
"...Tombstones."
"Tombstones!"
These two words stabbed fiercely into the depths of Perturabo's already rotted soul!
In an instant, countless faces flashed through Perturabo's mind.
He remembered the Iron Warriors during the Siege of Terra, who charged into the artillery fire without hesitation to carry out his ruthless tactics.
And the children who, under the bombardment of Virus Bombs, still held their positions until they were melted into bloody water.
And even more, during the ten thousand years of exile, those loyal warriors who followed and worshipped him, only to be personally sent to the Daemon Engines modification tables because of his suspicion and paranoia...
Perturabo remembered the look in their eyes as they gazed at him through the red lenses of their helmets before death; there was still absolute trust and worship within.
He had always thought that was glory, the price that had to be paid for victory.
Not until today, until this moment, did Leticia unveil the truth he had been evading for ten thousand years.
It was murder.
He, Perturabo, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors, the master of the Fourth Legion...
He was the true culprit behind the destruction of his own legion.
This thought, enough to drive him mad, was thus laid bare.
"Ah... Ahhh..."
Above the sky, Perturabo's massive holographic image flickered violently.
He reached out both hands to clutch his head tightly, as if trying to shove that truth back into his mind.
He opened his mouth but could not make a sound, as if screaming silently.
The pressure, enough to make his soul collapse, finally transformed into a thought of mutual destruction.
Perturabo jerked his head up.
In Perturabo's eyes, the pain and confusion had vanished, leaving only a sea of blood-red.
He roared with all his might, "Shut up!"
He repeated it over and over.
"Shut up! All of you shut up!"
"If this place is a grave, if they are tombstones!"
"Then you thieves..."
A smile appeared on Perturabo's twisted face, looking extremely hideous.
"...shall stay here forever and be buried with me!"
"Activate—"
"The Iron Cage."
------------------------------
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! If the fanfiction has you hooked and you can't wait to see what happens next, you can unlock 30 or more chapters in advance over on my patreon: patreon.com/FTLGenBen
Also every bit of support means the world to me so if you're loving the ride, don't forget to drop a Power Stone, Thanks.