"I... I'm sorry... The situation right now is really too complicated... I don't know how to explain it." As Jielikelei spoke slowly, Claude, who had been listening all along, immediately sensed something was wrong.
A thought he had cast into hell drifted back up: Was that really Perturabo's voice? Was that really Rogal Dorn's voice? Had the two of them really... reconciled?
Impossible! Absolutely impossible! It defied logic! It defied the creed of the Iron Warriors! What did they think this was? Some damned slice-of-life soap opera produced on a garden world untouched by war?
Claude was both panicked and furious. Keeping his voice steady, he asked Jielikelei, "Listen, soldier. I need you to explain this clearly. This has to be some infuriating joke, right?"
Jielikelei's voice did not come through. It seemed someone had taken his communicator, and faint sounds of jostling came from the other end.
For some reason, Claude's heart was pounding wildly. Not even an adrenaline injection could make his heart beat this fast. He even wanted to hang up at once, so he would not have to endure the discomfort coursing through both mind and body.
In the end, his curiosity and desire for the truth overcame all discomfort. Claude hunched over, clasping his helmet in both hands, trying to hear the next voice more clearly.
"I am Perturabo. Are you one of my children?"
Like most Iron Warriors, Claude had never heard Perturabo's voice, nor had he ever seen Perturabo's true face. Yet at that moment, he could say without the slightest hesitation.
There is a 1000% chance that this is my father's voice!
Claude took several excited steps in place. The massive armored giant looked strangely adorable making such movements. Then he restrained his excitement and spoke to Perturabo in a calm, rational