"I would be pleased to receive your architectural designs and see them realized. I believe you are a great architectural designer; none of your designs should be buried. But..."
Perturabo's anger instantly subsided. A dazzling light shone in his eyes.
"But my palace's architectural style is also a form of art. I believe you should learn to appreciate it."
Hearing this, Perturabo looked around.
Everything around him was deconstructed into numbers:
The Chapter banners were 3.3 meters long, 1.1 meters wide.
All twelve banners were identical, which eased Perturabo's furrowed brow slightly.
But then: the banner of the 1st Chapter, painted with scales, and the banner of the 2nd Chapter, painted with a sun, were 5.2 meters apart.
The 2nd Chapter banner and the banner of the 3rd Chapter, painted with a deep black moon, were 6.1 meters apart.
'Why is the distance between each banner different?'
Perturabo also recalled the jet-black floor tiles arranged asymmetrically in a Fibonacci sequence, irregularly painted with patterns like wings and lines.
"Appreciating art?"
"All I see in this palace is lost balance, a disordered state, lacking meticulous design and proper calculation."
"Art is usually unrelated to precise calculation. Those things unrelated to logic are the source of art." Nareth's gaze was profound, his tone meaningful.
'Art has nothing to do with technique!' Nareth's words struck Perturabo's psyche, ruthlessly uncovering a corner of his dust-sealed memory.
He had once failed. His foster father, Dammekos, had held a sculpture competition.
He had crafted a perfect statue, yet lost.
He lost to a piece that wasn't perfect, but was expressive, emotional, and incredibly nuanced.
He had lost to his brother.
'Was it Hektor, or Andos?'
Perturabo tried to blur the memory, to make that failure seem like a dream.
But he was a Primarch. His mind was too perfect. He remembered everything.
He could understand the structural properties of objects and materials just by observing them. He had an instinctive grasp of mathematics and engineering. How could he forget that name?
'It was Andos, not Hektor.'
'I smashed my statue... and Andos's.'
Perturabo fell silent. His anger subsided. He once again scrutinized the entire palace.
With his kind of taleny he didn't actually need to look again. All answers had been hidden within his anger the moment he entered the palace; he just hadn't wanted to see them.
With hiskind of talent, he actually didn't need to look again, he had already understood the moment he walked in. The truth had simply been buried under his refusal to acknowledge it.
Now it pierced through, mercilessly.
'Even in its disorder, this palace is art. It's not inferior to my designs.'
A nameless fury flickered in his eyes. His hand twitched toward the hammer on his belt, then stopped.
He didn't destroy the palace the way he once destroyed that statue.
Magnus sensed the emotional storm roiling in his brother, rippling through the Warp.
"Perturabo, in my youth, I once witnessed a statue of a great bird. It stood atop a mountain peak, perfect."
The word "statue" instantly gripped Perturabo's attention. He looked at the red, one-eyed brother who had approached him.
"Just as I approached it, it fell to the ground."
"In the broken fragments, I found triangles, quadrilaterals…"
"I found truths that have existed in the universe since the beginning, truths that birthed the Five Schools."
Perturabo pondered and said: "True art is contained within disorder?"
"It's more accurate to say that art isn't defined by order or calculation. It isn't bound by rules," Nareth said with a smile.
Perturabo stared at the two Primarchs. Their silhouettes overlapped with the memory of Andos, radiating artistic brilliance.
He sealed the statue, and this palace, deep within his mind.
Slowly, the entire palace faded from his awareness. He stood within it, yet it felt like he was standing in a shadow.
"We should return to the real matter at hand. Our Father sent us here to make these short ones submit to the Imperium."
"That is our mission. Art cannot help in war, and Father would not want us indulging in it."
"I disagree," Magnus's eye gleamed. "More important than adding them to the Imperium is their knowledge, their culture."
"As long as it doesn't affect progress, the Emperor wouldn't mind our methods. His Sigillite loves culture and art, which hasn't incurred His displeasure." Nareth said with a smile.
"Among his collection, the Mona Lisa and Van Gogh's Sunflowers are worth seeing. He would surely agree to you visiting his prized treasures."
Perturabo's eyes flickered, but he decided not to pursue this topic further.
Partly because he felt it wasn't the time, and partly because he didn't wish to continue discussing art with his sons present.
He didn't believe his understanding in this area was inferior to Nareth's or Magnus's, but his comprehension of irrational art hadn't reached a level that satisfied him.
'Nothing is beyond analysis. I just need a little time...'
'Yes, just a little time.'
"Alright." Nareth's eyes were profound. He had keenly perceived that his artistic "taste" had earned Perturabo's respect.
'Perturabo clearly wants to change the subject. Bringing up his earlier design proposal now would make him think I'm exploiting his artistic weakness.'
'Given his personality, to prove himself, he would exert all effort to design a palace model, but he would inwardly resent me.'
'I should know when to stop. After he completes a series of tests and accepts me as a friend, then I can leverage his desire for recognition and praise by offering appropriate appreciation, and acquire all those architectural artworks of his.'
Thinking this, Nareth continued:
"Let the War Council begin."
After seating, Perturabo remained like a statue, silent. Magnus asked Nareth:
"Nareth, you have been fighting the Squats for some time. I assume you already have a plan for the upcoming war."
"Correct," Nareth met Perturabo's scrutinizing gaze calmly and asked: "I reviewed the report submitted by the diplomatic envoy you dispatched, Phosis."
Nareth knew Phosis was the strongest telepath among the Thousand Sons, the future Magister Templi of the Raptora cult.
He, along with Ahzek Ahriman, Hathor Maat, and others, were among Magnus's key proteges, candidates for Fellowship Captains.
Sending Phosis showed how seriously Magnus took this mission.
nfortunately, the Squats' mental fortitude was extraordinary.
Moreover, the negotiation process indicated that some entity had engaged Phosis in a psychic battle.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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