Stunus was overwhelmed with emotion, while Fulgrim aboard the ark was equally melancholy.
He stared blankly at the Iron Hands' emblem on the screen, then suddenly said, "I want to see Ferrus Manus's children."
Pfft!
Hearing that, Lin Fan spat out the aged cola he had just gulped down. He looked at Fulgrim seriously. "Are you serious? Or was it just a passing thought?"
"I'm serious." Fulgrim stroked the screen. "I want to see Ferrus Manus's children and talk to them..."
"Talk?" Perturabo's voice emerged from a skull-shaped servo-drone. Whenever he was busy in the control center, he used servo-drones and the sound array system to communicate with Lin Fan and the Primarchs.
The servo-drone's speaker continued to vibrate as Perturabo rationally laid out the scene of Fulgrim meeting the Iron Hands.
"The instant you meet, the Iron Hands will realize you are Fulgrim—the Prince of Slaanesh who killed their father, the damned traitor who betrayed the Imperium. Then they'll swarm out with their mobile fortresses, and only after you've been crushed beneath their treads will their anger ease even slightly."
Perturabo found it rather strange to be saying this to Fulgrim. After all, he too was a traitor, and the damage he had inflicted upon the Imperium during the rebellion was no less than Fulgrim's. If he had to name one thing that made him better than Fulgrim, it was that he and his men did not rape cannon fodder.
The Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists could be said to share a hatred as deep as the sea. Their attacks and struggles had never ceased over the past ten thousand years. Though there had been a few occasions when those sworn enemies chose to fight side by side, that was nowhere near enough to shake their ancient hatred