Thump, thump
Sapphire knocked lightly on the door. "Brother Caelan, are you awake? Grandfather is waiting for you in the council hall."
"Come in."
Caelan's gentle voice came from inside. Sapphire pushed the door open gently and blinked in surprise.
Because, besides Caelan and little Dorn, there was also an unfamiliar youth in the room.
The youth stood quietly by the window, observing this strange underground city.
The city extended deep underground, but outside the window, it was as bright as day. Metal bridges and building surfaces were studded with star-like luminous lights.
Before Sapphire could ask, Caelan introduced him, "This is Perturabo."
Sapphire asked, "He comes from Olympia?"
Caelan nodded.
Sapphire asked incredulously, "But how did he get here?"
Caelan answered, "Maybe quantum mechanics."
When in doubt, quantum mechanics.
If that doesn't explain it, time travel.
Caelan touched on both, but he truly knew nothing about the specifics of how he traveled.
Caelan remembered Perturabo stubbornly holding Dorn yesterday, refusing to let go, insisting on sleeping with his brother. Caelan couldn't dissuade him and had to compromise.
Then, when he woke up, here they were.
On Barbarus, the principle was probably the same.
If Mortarion and Jaghatai Khan had also fallen asleep with him at the same time, perhaps they too would have gone to their respective worlds and seen each other.
And when Caelan traveled from one Primarch to another, the principle was likely the same.
Though hard to explain, when it came to psychic powers, everything seemed logical.
But Caelan always felt his travel mechanism had nothing to do with psychic powers. This was his intuition, but not a baseless guess.
Psychic powers are supernatural forces not belonging to the material universe. Their use always leaves observable traces, the most typical being a sudden drop in temperature.
Yet when Caelan traveled, there was never an abnormal temperature drop, nor even traces of psychic interference.
When he traveled back and forth between Barbarus and Chogoris, Mortarion and Jaghatai Khan could corroborate it.
Since it wasn't related to psychic powers, it had to be blamed on quantum mechanics!
"Caelan." Perturabo withdrew his gaze from the cityscape outside the window. "I wish to request an audience with Chieftain Dorn."
"No respect. At home, I don't mind you calling me by name, but outside, what should you call me?"
Perturabo looked at Caelan stubbornly. "I don't want to."
He should call Caelan 'Mentor,' but ever since he saw Dorn affectionately calling Caelan 'Dada,' he didn't want to anymore.
Why could his little brother do it, but not him?
He was there first!
Since he didn't want to call Caelan 'Mentor,' the only alternative was to call him by name. This was the price for Caelan toying with his feelings!
Perturabo's stubbornness made Caelan feel both helpless and understanding.
He knew Perturabo too well, just as he knew every Primarch he had personally taught. If he stubbornly denied the Primarch's sincere feelings, what difference would he have from a twisted person?
One shouldn't be too twisted.
But Caelan had always been twisted, and Perturabo was twisted.
They were locked in a struggle to see who would give in first.
Deep down, Caelan regarded Perturabo as his own son, and Perturabo likewise saw Caelan as a father.
However, the emotional bond between them was too complex.
Caelan had already had Perturabo recognize Dammekos as his adoptive father, while he himself was only a mentor.
How could he suddenly change that?
So they fell into a subtle stalemate.
Caelan had concerns. He feared that if he rashly asked Perturabo to change how he addressed him, he might be refused, and then even their teacher-student relationship would be ruined.
Perturabo also longed for a closer relationship with Caelan, but he, too, was afraid of being rejected.
They both cherished this special bond, both wanted to take it further, yet both were inexplicably afraid of it.
But Dorn had successfully broken Perturabo's defenses, causing sour emotions to churn inside him.
Why could Dorn call Caelan 'Dada' without any restraint, while he had to maintain the distant relationship of mentor and student?
It wasn't fair!
Perturabo didn't hate Dorn; he was still a child, he didn't understand anything.
He didn't hate Caelan either; it was his own earlier twistedness that had made him miss the opportunity.
But he hated himself!
Hated himself for being too cowardly, for being too twisted.
So he had to take the initiative, to make his feelings known!
Why Perturabo had called him by name was tacitly understood by both.
Caelan looked at Perturabo's stubborn eyes and sighed lightly. "Perturabo, call me Father."
"Father!" The words burst from Perturabo almost without thinking.
This scene had been brewing in his heart for far too long, and now, finally, it was spoken aloud.
Perturabo felt the long-suppressed knot in his chest melt away. He felt a carefree relief, as if a weight had been lifted.
He unconsciously straightened his back, as if to prove he was worthy of calling out that word 'Father.'
Caelan raised his hand, as if to caress Perturabo's cheek like when he was little, but in the end, his hand gently rested on his shoulder.
"A-Bo, I am forever proud of you."
For a father to pursue a son is like crossing a mountain; for a son to pursue a father is like piercing a veil.
They thought there was a sad, thick barrier between them, but it was only a thin sheet of paper, and Perturabo had pierced it.
Since it was already pierced, why let this thin veil hinder them any longer?
These words were like a key, unlocking Perturabo's heart. His voice choked slightly. "Father, I..."
Before Perturabo could finish, his gaze suddenly caught Dorn holding the short rod, and his face instantly darkened.
Smack!
Perturabo snatched the short rod back. Dorn pouted his little mouth. "Brother."
Hearing this 'brother,' Perturabo didn't comfort him. Instead, he leaned close to Dorn's small face and enunciated clearly, "This is mine. Even if you are my brother, you can't take it!"
He could share many things with Dorn, even a father, but not this!
His father loved all the Primarchs. He couldn't monopolize him; he had to share.
But the Evolution Truster was unique. It was a gift from his father, an expression of his father's expectations for him. No one could take it from him!
Don't you all have your own gifts?
"A-Bo, don't be like that with your brother."
Caelan stepped between the two Primarchs, picking up Dorn with one hand and gently pushing Perturabo back with the other.
Dorn looked very wronged. "But, brother gave it to me."
Dorn never lied, even as a child.
Perturabo fell silent because he remembered what had happened last night.
To coax Dorn and also to show off, he had voluntarily taken out the Evo Truster to show his little brother, and then slept holding both his brother and the Truster.
When he woke up, he was captivated by this magnificent city.
He had noticed Dorn holding the Evo Truster but hadn't thought anything of it; it was in his brother's hands, so it wouldn't get lost.
But after just acknowledging Caelan as his father, Perturabo, overwhelmed with joy, had suddenly panicked.
So, the fault really was his.
Perturabo lowered his eyes, a flicker of regret in them. He knelt on one knee before Dorn, his voice sincere, "I'm sorry, Dorn. It's my fault. I was too impulsive."
Apology aside, Perturabo still quietly tucked the Evo Truster into his arms. "But I didn't give it to you, and I won't give it to anyone. It's mine. I just lent it to you and forgot to take it back. Anyway, I was wrong this time."
Dorn looked up with his young face, reaching out his chubby little hand to tug at Perturabo's sleeve. "Then, then I forgive you, brother. Get up quickly."
Having said that, as if completing a sacred mission, he proudly puffed out his small chest.
Sapphire blinked in confusion, her gaze shifting between the three. She couldn't understand what this father and his two sons were doing.
They shared an incredible unspoken understanding, knowing each other's personalities and experiences inside out.
They could read each other in every subtle expression, every glance. It wasn't telepathy, but it was better than telepathy.
But to outsiders, they just seemed to be speaking in riddles.
Sapphire couldn't figure out why Perturabo was so happy to acknowledge a father, and why he suddenly got angry with a child.
In any case, this family was very strange.
Were all Terrans like this?
"Pepe..." Sapphire wasn't sure how to address him.
Perturabo said, "You can call me directly by my name, Sister Sapphire."
Caelan had told him about his experiences on Inwit yesterday, including a young girl named Sapphire. Perturabo wasn't unfamiliar with her.
Sapphire asked, "Perturabo, why do you want to see the Chieftain?"
"I hope to establish cooperation with the Dorn Clan."
Sapphire instinctively looked at Caelan, thinking this was at his suggestion.
Though Perturabo's proposal for a trade also surprised Caelan, he would still support Perturabo unconditionally.
Sapphire asked, "What kind of cooperation?"
"Knowledge."
....
Old Dorn received Perturabo in the council hall, posing only a brief question: "How will we cooperate?"
"Knowledge is both the subject and the method of cooperation."
Even facing the ruler of the Dorn Clan, the young man showed no fear. "I wish to obtain the knowledge of Inwit."
Old Dorn questioned, "And what, according to you, can Olympia offer in return?"
Since it was a cooperation, it naturally had to be mutually beneficial. Otherwise, it would be charity.
If Perturabo truly came from another world and wouldn't threaten Inwit's interests, offering some help might be acceptable.
But since Perturabo had proposed cooperation, he had to prove his worth.
Perturabo said, "Olympia can't give much, but I can."
Olympia could only produce solid projectile rifles, while Inwit could build starships. Their technological levels were worlds apart.
Olympia's artistic achievements were higher than Inwit's, but trying to trade a few paintings for Inwit's high technology was pure fantasy.
So Olympia couldn't offer Inwit anything in terms of knowledge. The only thing of value was Perturabo himself.
"You can provide me with some relatively basic technologies. I can improve upon the original technology, increasing efficiency, lowering costs, or enhancing performance."
"If I can fulfill my promise, I believe we can establish long-term cooperation."
"For every technology you provide me, I will offer suggestions for improvement."
"If I fail, you can terminate the cooperation at any time."
Old Dorn shook his head. "Even if I believe in your abilities, your proposal isn't very attractive."
Inwit, as a star-spanning empire ruling an entire star cluster, had a very complete technological system. Merely improving efficiency, lowering costs, or enhancing performance, incremental improvements were just icing on the cake.
This wouldn't advance the empire further, and the Dorn Clan's gains from the cooperation would be very limited.
"I cannot offer more promises. If you're still unsatisfied, you can refuse."
Olympia's technological level wasn't high. These were the only bargaining chips he had.
The initiative for cooperation lay with Inwit. They had every reason to refuse this proposal, something Perturabo couldn't control.
But Primarchs had their pride. If Perturabo merely asked for some low-level technology, it would still help Lochos's technology advance rapidly.
The Dorn Clan wouldn't refuse; such technology wasn't precious to them.
But Perturabo's pride wouldn't allow it. So he proposed cooperation, not a request.
Even if the Dorn Clan refused the cooperation, Perturabo would still be their equal.
Old Dorn's sharp gaze turned to Caelan. "What can Terra offer us?"
"Navigators and Astropaths, a galaxy-wide trade network, and the Imperium's military protection."
Since Inwit had established a pocket empire spanning a star cluster, it surely didn't lack the technology for Warp travel.
But without Navigators, it would be hard for Inwit to expand its borders.
And without Astropaths, communication between different worlds would be very difficult.
Old Dorn asked, "How many worlds does your Imperium rule?"
Caelan thought for a moment. "At least ten thousand, but counting the exact number is the Administratum's job."
The Imperium had over two million worlds at the end of the Great Crusade. Even though the Legions' strength was far from its peak, the Imperium already had twelve Primarchs back, accelerating the pace of conquest. Ten thousand was just the most conservative estimate.
Old Dorn stared at Caelan, trying to find a flaw in his subtle expressions.
If Caelan was telling the truth, the Inwit Empire was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot before the Imperium.
What the Imperium could offer Inwit in terms of peace and military protection, it could also offer war and military occupation. The two were essentially the same.
Even if the Imperium's fleets were necessarily scattered to maintain its vast territory and further expansion, the Inwit Empire, with its smaller domain, might have an initial advantage. But the Imperium ruled over ten thousand worlds; its war potential was thousands of times greater than Inwit's.
When the Imperium began to assemble its fleets to destroy them, the Inwit Empire's life would be on a countdown.
Whether the Imperium brought peace or war depended on Inwit's attitude.
Old Dorn gradually fell silent. Caelan's casual confidence didn't seem like a lie.
"Inwit can join your Imperium, but I have a condition." Old Dorn pointed to the infant in Caelan's arms. "This child must join the Dorn Clan."
"I told you, his name is Rogal Dorn."
"But the Dorn Clan has not accepted him."
"And now?"
Caelan offered Dorn forward. Old Dorn carefully took this extraordinary infant. "Now he is a member of the Dorn Clan. Rogal Dorn."
"If he proves himself worthy, the future of the Dorn Clan will be his to inherit!"
If the Primarchs held a pivotal position in the Imperium of Man, the Dorn Clan had to establish a bond with him that transcended mere interest, not stop at cold cooperation.
Perturabo wouldn't accept charity. Blood ties were the strongest bond.
Old Dorn stared at Caelan, a probing look in his eyes. "Why did you name the child Rogal Dorn?"
Caelan met the old man's gaze frankly. "Because his name is Rogal Dorn."
Old Dorn looked down at Dorn, complex emotions swirling in his eyes. "Rogal Dorn... that was the name I had prepared for my grandson. But my sons are useless. I have no grandson."
"Now you have one."
Old Dorn chuckled dryly. "He is my grandson, you are his father. Then what are you to me?"
"We'll address each other separately."
Old Dorn looked down, gently stroking Dorn's young cheek with his rough fingers.
"Grandfather." Dorn looked up with his little face, his voice babyish.
"Good child."
The address made old Dorn's heart tremble. A smile slowly bloomed on his wrinkled face.
If the Imperium ever truly came to Inwit, his promise today would bring peace to Inwit.
If the Imperium didn't come to Inwit, he would have gained a grandson for free. A win-win.
Though the Dorn Clan was Ice Caste, as its chieftain, old Dorn had inevitably developed a politician's mindset.
Old Dorn looked up at Perturabo. "Young man, let's discuss cooperation. The Dorn Clan's library and databases will be open to you. You can absorb their knowledge to your heart's content. But you must fulfill your promise within half a year, or the cooperation is void."
The Imperium was the Imperium, Olympia was Olympia.
A grandson was a grandson, and cooperation was cooperation.
Of course, they couldn't be completely separated, but at least they should be formally distinguished.
Old Dorn wasn't fixated on formalities, but he had acutely observed the pride in Perturabo's bones. He would rather give up cooperation than sacrifice his loved ones, even if it was entirely beneficial.
So, claiming kinship and cooperation had to be two separate things.
But he still made a concession, as long as Perturabo produced any results within six months, the cooperation could continue.
Perturabo's voice was steady, "Not six months. I only need one month."
A glint of approval shone in old Dorn's eyes. "The young are indeed to be feared. The Dorn Clan hasn't seen a young man like this for a long time. How old is he?"
Caelan said, "Seven."
Old Dorn was stunned.
Caelan added, "Of course, he might also be two."
Old Dorn's face showed disbelief. 'Two years old?'
He had been thinking of using a marriage alliance to bind another Primarch, but now he immediately dismissed the idea.
Though the age gap between two and eleven was only nine years, a Primarch was already this big at two. How terrifying would he be as an adult?
His granddaughter couldn't handle that!
Old Dorn suddenly looked at Caelan. "And how old are you?"
Caelan said, "Eighteen."
Old Dorn nodded silently. An age gap of seven years. A match made in heaven!
If he couldn't bind a Primarch, binding the Primarch's father would do.
The relationships might get a little messy, though.
....
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