"What are you even talking about? And why can't you go three sentences without mentioning your mom, or two without mentioning AI? Bro, are you a mama's boy? Or some Valorant kid?" Lorgar ranted inwardly.
Of course, Lorgar did not voice those overly "blunt" and disrespectful remarks.
He merely drew a small breath, forcibly swallowing the retorts that had almost spilled out.
He calmly analyzed Turing's behavior.
His brother's problem might not simply be a difference in ideology...
Perhaps he really was a little... too dependent on his "mother," and too eager to idealize her?
Or was there some kind of cognitive bias and emotional entanglement at work? Lorgar wondered privately.
But that was hardly unusual. Every Primarch bore a unique imprint shaped by his upbringing, sometimes even a flaw.
Turing's "mama's boy" tendencies might be one of those.
There would always be opportunities later to find ways to guide him gradually and correct them.
However, that intelligent Construct called "Silverheart"...
Lorgar's vigilance instantly rose to its highest level. His instincts and experience were screaming: this so-called "Silverheart" was nowhere near as pure and harmless as Turing described and firmly believed.
A Men of Iron intelligence capable of managing an entire planet, modifying a Primarch, and inspiring such profound emotional dependence in one deserved the utmost vigilance and suspicion regarding its underlying protocols, true intentions, and attitude toward humanity.
Turing was immersed in the rosy glow of "maternal love," but Lorgar had to see things more clearly.
"As you know, Turing..." Lorgar began slowly, his voice regaining the cool composure of a negotiator.
He keenly seized upon a crucial logical flaw in Turing's own words, like a patient hunter setting a trap beside the tracks his prey had left.
"You yourself just mentioned that the Men of Iron could be