Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 701 When Sigismund died in a galaxy with Perturabo BC... (3)
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*One-on-one persuasion that will make the brave men cry (?), but after all, the student is Sigismund. But it’s actually not a big deal, just background supplement, you don’t have to read it-
After that, there were several more power-on tests.

He wasn't angry about it, but he wasn't completely emotionless either, and it was a novel feeling that wasn't terribly upsetting.

In fact, the simulated emotion graph of being told that after his death, he was transported to Terra, where his brain, heart and dormant soul were first stolen by a skilled thief and then given to the Iron Warriors Primarch Perturabo, who used them to build experimental machines filled with a lot of heretic and alien technology seemed a little smoother than the various feelings he had when he was captured and made into an Astartes.

At least he wouldn't think of those companions who were left behind in Innos.

He was caught and taken to the sky.

But the orphans on the ground who had been protected by him were no longer protected by anyone.

Sigismund blinked, erasing from his mental matrix the emotional crap that had so strangely proliferated like bubbles.

It’s just that the mysterious mechanical priest he met at the beginning - he guessed it should be a mechanical priest - never appeared again, and he didn’t ask.

From these startup tests, he gradually mastered every small detail and design of his body, and used the language module that was relatively rigid at the beginning more flexibly and tactfully (his capturer and thought matrix processor keenly analyzed that His Highness Perturabo’s chance of making a slight concession after receiving pragmatic, mechanical and dull words of praise is 49-57% higher than when he makes a straightforward statement.), closer to humans.

For example, he could now describe the taste of his living metal mouth to an unsuspecting mortal as "full of the metallic taste of copper and iron."

This would make it sound like he might have been injured or had his mouth modified, rather than letting a mortal think that he actually has less than 1% organic matter in his body.

"Considering the various missions you will be carrying out, you will need to be able to repair yourself at some point. Since you are not a psyker, it is important that you have the blueprints for your own repairs using counterweights."

"Negative." He moved his living metal eyelids at a human-speed blink and continued his statement before the other party looked at him angrily.

"Both the Living Metal Interface Compatibility Protocol and the Nanocell Capsule have this function. Diverting the weight will affect my combat balance and reaction speed."

"Record. Change the weight database file name to 'redundant'."

"Definitely. Redundancy is an acceptable appropriation."

"Hmm..." The other party's black eyes were thoughtful, "This kind of response... maybe you need more practical training. - But let's finish today's sword test first."

"Move your body. I have shut down the normal energy source of your reactor and activated the promethium fuel as an emergency energy source... I will record your physical data during the next combat test."

"As ordered."

Now, his voice has been adjusted to the voice he once had according to the sound in the memory matrix.

As for the age range of the voice, the mysterious Primarch did not make any requirements, so Sigismund set it to around twenty-two years old. He didn't know why, but he felt it would be appropriate.

Today's awakening was recorded in his database as the tenth awakening.

Now that his internal machinery had been honed to perfection, Sigismund clenched his metal fingers tightly and then slowly loosened them.

He could feel the living metal in his body stirring restlessly, and his computing matrix told him that the best combination of personality he should display outwardly at this moment was contradiction, expectation, and alertness.

So he chose these personalities as the operating baseline for the emotional simulation program, but he quietly added a little determination - as for the peaceful state of mind like a lake, this is what he lacks the least now.

When the dark-eyed figure approached him carrying two long swords, Sigismund's combat system automatically entered the highest alert state.

The analysis of the opponent's weapons, the points of force of each step, and the angles of muscle force are all projected at the edge of the field of vision in the form of multiple data lists.

This way of perception is completely different from human judgment based on experience and intuition. It is like using a sophisticated scanner to replace naked eye observation that lacks a lot of data details.

"Come, test the compatibility of standard weapons."

The moment the order was given, Sigismund grabbed the hilt of the long sword that was thrown at him.

When he held this imitation of the Imperial style power sword, the sensors and scanning elements immediately fed back the friction level of the grip, the angle of the weapon's center of gravity offset, the maximum output, energy reserves, etc.

This perception was neither exciting nor fearful, but simply recorded as "a weapon that can be used in combat, requiring 47 parameter calibration and coordination."

Then the attack began without warning. The moment the Primarch attacked, Sigismund's optical sensors immediately picked up the abnormal disturbance.

The trajectory of the long sword breaking through the air automatically generated a red warning line in the field of vision, but the living metal palm had already swung the long sword faster and more accurately.

"Too slow."

The deep rebuke came later than the charge, and Perturabo's seemingly heavy and huge body had already turned into a hurricane of destruction.

Sigismund's matrix combat algorithm module instantly selected the optimal solution again, and the metal body moved sideways to avoid the attack as nimbly as a living person.

The intensive offensive came like a landslide, and his optical sensor kept making frame compensations, barely keeping up with the opponent's movements.

The living metal inside the power armor automatically deforms like muscle, allowing the ceramic steel on the surface to change its angle to block the fatal attack at the critical moment.

Every time the blades collided or cut through his defense, blinding sparks of energy burst out, and overload alarms scrolled on the retina of his eyepiece.

Hundreds of options suddenly emerged from the calculation results of the thinking matrix combat module, and Sigismund's mechanical body chose one of them based on "intuition" without any hesitation.

He took the initiative to expose his left side to absorb the heavy blow, and poured all his energy into his right arm.

The blazing blue sword light cut through space, but was deflected by the spine of another sword when it was about to hit.

The recoil and the subsequent sword strike to his side made his metal bones rub against each other harshly, and his vision was disturbed for a moment.

"It's okay."

Perturabo looked expressionless, but facial expression capture analysis told Sigismund that he was actually quite satisfied.

As the Primarch sheathed his sword, the feeling of entering the final darkness again receded like a tide.

Sigismund then noticed that his diagnostic system was frantically popping up damage reports: armor damage, cooling fluid leakage, energy reserves too low...

Still, he didn't immediately activate his self-healing function - code added during the third test required him to prioritize the other party over him.

He mechanically straightened his body and waited for the next command, with a rapid review of the combat data constantly scrolling on his retina. He still seemed to have no emotional fluctuations, no pain, just calm, of course.

Actually - that's not entirely true. There are always things in Sigismund's mind that he himself cannot describe, just like he can always choose the right way to attack, and he can always hit the enemy's flaws without having ever learned how to fight.

But he still didn't quite understand what this meant, but since it was not prohibited, he judged it to be allowed.

There was one thing he was sure of, Perturabo did not hate his mechanical performance. Although he always asked him to be more "human", he actually had a kind of proud and hidden tolerance for it.

A comprehensive analysis of the logic circuits suggested that this emotion might be because he was his mechanical creation, or because the surface of his reactor was now engraved with a silver skull emblem instead of a fist emblem. Given the relationship between the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists...

A data command was sent into his thought matrix like lightning breaking through the sky, breaking his wandering thoughts.

Sigismund looked up with an emotion closest to surprise, looking at the Primarch, who was busy at his workbench with his back to him.

"Since there are no problems with your combat skills, you have 24 hours to repair and prepare." The other party's voice was full of gloomy irritation, "I'm going to send you out for the first free test."

"As ordered."

The other party paused and said, "Remember this."

Perturabo told him.

"You have no responsibility for anything on the test planet. For Sigismund is dead to everyone else."

(End of this chapter)