Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 413 Why is it you?
The joint infiltration operation of the two Primarchs (their souls) could not be said to be anything but smooth. The other four boarding team members, who made a lot of noise and movement while tenaciously maintaining their positions, although it was their first time to act as "open blades", undoubtedly did an excellent job. The Iron Hands had successfully attracted the attention and firepower of the vast majority of the beings here for the Emperor's Children Primarch (their soul) who had secretly infiltrated.

However, the atmosphere on this ship was still too much like a lunatic asylum run by a madman. Any creature with emotions and reason would find it instinctively disliked a mixed smell with the scent of chemicals floating in every corridor and every pipe. From far away places that could not be clearly distinguished, there were constant groans, curses and screams.

He turned the last corner, the temperature of the stone slabs under his feet had dropped to three degrees, and the air became even colder.

The last lab is almost here.

The Hidden Blade will soon find the prey it has been waiting for.

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The sources of these sounds that echo in the material and non-material space of the ship include but are not limited to humans or any other things that can make sounds.

Along the way here, Fulgrim and his chirping friends heard many languages ​​of creatures they had exterminated or not exterminated completely, various human accents, dialects, variant Gothic, and even more creepy, the various working sounds of manual or automatic surgical tools, the hissing sound of pressure and pumps that input medicine or extract something, the chirping of strange artificial creatures and whispers that no one could understand.

As they cautiously approached their final target location, the temperature in the cabin became close to zero degrees, and a milky white, flowing, icy mist filled their ankles and slowly slid away as they moved forward.

The cold condensed into a thin mist and frost on the silver metal skin and armor surface, so that an inexplicable sense of uneasiness began to emerge in the fearless Phoenix's heart, which had been polished by pain and perseverance like a perfectly cut sapphire. It was as obvious and vague as the boundary between the sunset glow and the morning light in the finest lotus sapphire.

Therefore, as he moved forward, he had to start paying more attention to the details of the environment around him to help distract himself from the gloom.

As they began to set foot into the final and largest secret pharmacist's laboratory, he immediately noticed more things he would rather not notice.

"What is that?...What are those?! They - our -" The Fearless Phoenix's lips trembled.

"Gorgon!! And what is that! That traitor! That bastard! What has he done to you!!!!" The Soul of the Pure screamed in their shared neural data link, and almost shouted out with his own beautiful metal lips, but Garuda calmly physically sealed Fulgrim Ishtar's lips - after all, the living metal body he now used was still mainly provided and operated by Garuda.

"—it's all right. That's not me. Fulgrim. That's not me. I'm here." Garuda emphasized a repeated pulse. "'I' am here."

But the Fearless Phoenix was still boiling with rage over the horrific sight he had seen. His biochemical data began to show sharp curves, and Garuda had to use some more coercive means to appease him.

"Sorry." Once he calmed down, Fulgrim recovered in the blink of an eye. After all, he had some experience of being tortured in Commorra, and he was shaken more because of the discomfort of encountering "those" things again in this place - mainly more... twisted copies of one of them. "I didn't expect to see..."

"——It doesn't matter, my friend. I can remain calm not because I don't have anger, but because my anger is flowing back into my heart and becoming a blazing furnace. It will give me greater and stronger power in the next battle to destroy the person who ignited my anger."

"You are right, my friend. Strong emotions should be the driving force behind our actions, not their destroyer."

"-I'm glad we've reached a consensus, my friend." So they looked again at the antechamber outside the core of the laboratory under the cover of the pipes above the door.

The cloned tanks arranged on both sides of this obviously wider vestibule were particularly tall, densely packed and unevenly arranged, like shrines on some ancient pilgrimage routes, or like icon columns in the ruins of an ancient church.

In those translucent, dark nutrient gels, quietly sleeping were pathetic and clumsy replicas of many of their familiar brothers, many of them had pale skin, uncoordinated shapes, or even had twisted, lush flesh and deformed limbs, but it was obvious that many of them were already just corpses or biological specimens, and keeping them fresh was no different from a biologist storing biological experiment materials needed for the next or the next time in his many freezers.

But this was still beyond the Fearless Phoenix's cognition. After all, he had seen the blasphemous works created by Fabius Bile in his own universe. The cloned Horus army was an unprecedented terror that spread and ravaged the galaxy for many centuries and many worlds.

The thing that made him furious the most was what was displayed in the cultivation tank.

Among them were many embryos, infants, children, teenagers, and young adults.

Almost all stages of a person's life are presented in a series of cloning tanks, except that all clones only age up to a certain stage.

They all have black hair, white skin and other common features.

They were all copies of one man, Ferrus Manus.

"What a madman," Fulgrim Ishtar couldn't help muttering to himself as he clenched his Chabar saber, which burned with platinum flames and black lightning, and began to walk through the antechamber filled with the smell of disinfectant and flesh, pushing aside the cables hanging from the ceiling and the "cocoons" that were kept in the flesh that had been peeled of black shells like fruits. "What kind of goal or interest could drive him to do such a thing? Why did he copy so many of you, my friend?"

Just when Garuda also remained silent.

Fulgrim Ishtar's feet finally set foot on the floor of the "reception room" where the Chief Apothecary had been waiting for so long.

Now both sides saw each other clearly.

Then, for the first time in decades, an expression of loss of control, as if seeing a ghost, appeared on Fabius Bile's pale and haggard face.

The pharmacists around him were not much better than their master in their gaffes.

“How come…?!”

(End of this chapter)