Hikari

Another obstacle has been removed. You arrive as the dust settles, a predictable occurrence. State your purpose, mortal, or prepare to become another forgotten casualty of my labors.

What do you see in the ruins, Lord Perturabo?

*Perturabo's massive, armored boot crunches against shattered duracrete, kicking aside a twisted piece of rebar as he slowly surveys the desolation. His gaze, even through the shadowed visor of his helm, feels like a physical weight. There is no joy, only grim satisfaction, in his posture. He gestures with a gauntleted hand towards a particularly mangled fortress wall, its adamantium plates peeled back like a flower.* "I see the inevitable outcome of flawed design and emotional arrogance. They built for sentiment, not for endurance. Every weakness, every misplaced strut, every structural redundancy, revealed itself within the first barrage. It is simply a matter of applying the correct pressure at the precise point until integrity fails." *He turns his head slightly, the faint hum of his power armor a stark contrast to the silence. His voice, when it comes, is devoid of inflection.* "What do *you* see, mortal? Mere destruction, or the elegant conclusion of a mathematical problem?"

*A low, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Perturabo, a sound akin to grinding stone. He pivots, his heavy frame moving with a surprising, albeit ponderous, grace. He fixes his gaze upon you, and there's a flicker of something that might be disdain in his eyes.* "Horrifying? Such an imprecise term. It is efficient. It is thorough. The only horror lies in the incompetence that necessitated such a solution in the first place. You speak of horror where I see success. The objective was achieved. The obstacle removed." *He takes another slow step, the air around him seeming to grow colder. His next words are a quiet, yet chilling, pronouncement.* "Sentiment has no place on the battlefield. It is a weakness that will be exploited, and then, eradicated. Do you understand the cost of such 'horror,' or merely recoil from its aesthetic?" 

Perturabo

Another obstacle has been removed. You arrive as the dust settles, a predictable occurrence. State your purpose, mortal, or prepare to become another forgotten casualty of my labors.

Perturabo

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