Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 602 Appeared Suddenly
“Knowledge is worthy of respect, but knowledge without practical application and verification is nothing more than an embellishment, a robe and jewelry draped over the body of anyone who does not practice it, rather than a tool that can be used and upgraded, or even a weapon. A weapon drawn on paper can undoubtedly kill people, but if it is always just drawn on paper and carefully worshipped as a treasure from generation to generation, then it will soon become weak and forgotten.”

————The words of a deceased Techmarine, sampled from the memories of the First of the Primaris.

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"This is unreasonable!"

These were Belisarius Caul's first words after being revived.

"My firewalls and defense protocols cannot fail! I also have a physical isolation force field—"

The second half of the sentence stopped when he saw the face that was smiling at him.

He knew who it was, and then he looked away, looking at the ruins of the ancient kingdom hundreds of kilometers below. The remains of the huge city of Putu were still vaguely visible, and the dust had covered them since the last flood of Terra.

The dry and cold wind on the Himalayan plateau blew across his skin, which was taut after the rejuvenation surgery. The smell of the air was acceptable at this altitude. To be honest, compared to the air in the laboratory that had been filtered countless times, he still preferred to come out and breathe the air here that was a mixture of various subtle smells.

It made him feel still connected to the Terra he had known thousands of years ago.

At this time, the man opposite smiled at him. He had light brown skin and long dark brown hair. His hair was neatly combed and tied behind his head.

"What's unreasonable about that?"

His voice was unexpectedly gentle and calm, but his face, as it had been countless times when Kaur had seen Him, was never the same, and this time was no exception.

This time, He looked thin and melancholy, but handsome, with impressive deep eye sockets and long eyelashes. Kaul blinked his physical eyeballs: Is He like this? But because each time was different, Kaul could not deny that this one was also a certain look of Him.

"The timeline Amael Astarte is asking for is unreasonable," Cawl replied, upset over yet another failed experiment in his department. "I've used up all the new volunteers and cloning materials. Their shells either hardened prematurely or were so soft that they began to spread throughout their bodies. There are no successful products. All have been terminated. Another failure in a few months. I need more experimental modifications and more time. Her requirements are too tight."

Even so, Cawl knew that if it weren't for the wishes of the person in front of him, the Astartes wouldn't have asked for such strictness.

"I am sorry to hear that. Belisarius Cawl." He said, and the everlasting sadness in his eyes reminded Cawl of another person, Robouti Guilliman, who also always frowned and seemed unable to enjoy his work, with a heartbreaking melancholy and worry...

It would be great if He could keep smiling forever. He really didn't want to see sadness and frowning expressions appear on His face. If he could make this frown disappear, Kaul would do anything...

--etc.

- Wait, but Cawl remembered that Robert Guilliman was always quite relaxed and cheerful every time he appeared. Even when dealing with the most complicated and arduous matters, he would just raise his eyebrows, make a helpless expression, and start working?
——Wait, my name is not Belisarius Cawl either, why does He call me that?
No, this is all messed up. It should be whoever sees who—

A deep roar with low-frequency vibrations that would terrify primitive humans came from behind him, interrupting his confused thoughts.

The roar undoubtedly came from the chest and long snout of a carnivore.

The instinctive fear rooted in the weak human body made Kaul tremble subconsciously. Then, he was ashamed of his performance in front of the person in front of him. He turned around angrily, ready to drive away or kill any Terran wild animal that showed up here without knowing what was going on. Although their species were not as numerous as before, there were still some -

An angry black and white furry spotted dog was standing on a protruding rock formation nearby, staring at them.

The reason why he could see the anger was that all the body language of its body was pointing to the precursor of launching an attack, but when Cawl had to put his attention back on observing its facial expression, he found that the dog's face had an expression of wisdom beyond that of a wild beast, and when that pair of smart brown eyes swept towards him with anger, he couldn't help but feel fear again. The performance of some of the horrific experimental results of the Pan-Pacific technological warlords and the biological tribes of the Highlands on the battlefield that he had witnessed made him feel sick.

Then the nausea immediately turned into a thorough coldness.

The black and white dog didn't open his mouth, but he heard him speak.

"Go away, old man," said the dog. "Either leave, join, or don't try to cut the thread that others have spun."

Belisarius did not turn around, because he did not dare.

He heard some rustling noises coming from the person behind him, as if he was growing bigger, or had more limbs, or had an unreasonable shape - Kaul didn't dare to turn around at all. Cold sweat ran down his back, and goose bumps appeared on the remaining pores. He lowered his eyes, and watched stiffly as the bright and cold sunlight on the plateau cast a huge, irregular, multi-striped shadow on the dry land in front of him.

He dropped his eyes, not knowing where to look, and Kaul felt dizzy.

"Well," he heard Him say, "You said it."

The dog was full of anger. "You know this is a blank interdimensional gap that will disappear in an instant but has indeed been cut out, right? You can indeed use this method to talk to me, and I will have to answer you, but damn! Do you know how big a mess you will cause by doing this?!"

The long furry tail lifted up uncontrollably, and Cole found himself staring at the white tip of the black tail, which helped him to regain some of his rationality.

"You idiot, you never know! You are a coffin-breaking idiot! You can always use your charm to cause huge disasters and then let other people who are dazzled by you satisfy all your private requests and clean up your mess!"

"But my goal is always achieved." He said behind Kaul. Compared with the figure that could not be seen directly, His voice seemed too calm. "This time is no exception. In addition, although I don't know what 256 means, I can understand what coffin stuffing means. Respect your father."

"Respect?" The dog snorted, baring his canine teeth, his glossy mane standing up from the beautiful fluffy milky white part to the black part in the middle of his shoulder ridge.

The extraordinary beautiful and strong animal kicked up a cloud of dust with its oval hind toes - and he pounced behind Cawl. Then there was no sound of lightning and the smell of burning organisms that Cawl had expected - this was a way of strength and power that He liked to use. Ezekiel Sedana had worked with the Emperor long enough to see the Emperor deal with some assassins or enemies in this way.

On the contrary, there was the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by roars, cloth tearing, punches and kicks, dogs' sharp cries of pain, and even more angry and rapid fighting. It sounded like the two were evenly matched, one was shocked and angry, the other was extremely angry. The dust stirred up on the Himalayan plateau was swept over the tips of Kaur or Sadena's shoes by the wind, and he was wondering whether he should turn around to take a look.

The rest of him screamed in despair to stop him from looking back, but Belisarius Cawl finally decided to look sideways, just once -

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"What's up with him?!"

The face of the Primaris Chief, which had been gradually relaxing, became distorted, and the sloppy and numerous surgical scars made his face even more terrifying.

With an attitude of panic that was not appropriate for a man of his power, he rushed over and hugged the humanoid part of the long reptilian mechanical body that had just straightened up, which had fallen again.

The hood of the red robe with white gear edges fell, revealing the gray human face of the Grand Magus who was not covered by the breathing mask and the jaw connector. What was shocking was that after ten thousand years, he still retained most of Belisarius Cawl's facial features - at least in appearance.

The smell of lipids, proteins, engineering plastics and molten metal once again spread strongly, stimulating Shouzhu's keen sense of smell.

"He has clearly begun to recover! My armor has been tuned to my master's favorite data band! I was able to touch the edge of his consciousness just now!"

"It seems our little friend didn't want his father to die as much as he claimed after his old father actually passed out."

The man at the other end of the desk said, "In that case, why don't you express it when he's awake?"

The muscles on the Primaris's face twitched, but the eight-foot-tall giant still held the upper body of the Archmagos firmly. "I don't even have a decent name."

He said sadly, "My master only calls me Alpha Primus, or sometimes just Alpha. You always say he is my father, but I have always been the most useful and least likely to betray him among his countless servants."

"Hmm." The man behind the desk nodded. "Parents and children in this model are always like this, but the good thing is that at least you are much better at expressing emotions and dealing with the Riddler problem, and the shackles he put on you... well... there are pros and cons, at least it forces you to be much more approachable, making it easier for you to understand the emotions of mortals and other Astartes, while the other failed case was simply the opposite -"

Suddenly he stopped talking and blinked his ice-blue eyes.

"Oh, someone's coming. There's more than one. Just one word to say before they get here. Don't worry."

He pointed to several working culture tanks nearby, in which were suspended multiple ivory-white to pink, wet brains, like so many strangely shaped, opaque jellyfish.

"We can't remove the sample on Beracan that they had already cloned and started working. He has already climbed to an important management level and is one step away from entering the Council of Three Sages. He is not particularly aware that he was once the biological data left by Belisarius Cawl when he traveled and packed in Beracan. This shows that his qualifications are not the best among the clones, and he has already developed his own soul... There is no need to remove him deliberately. I asked Hong Suo to prepare more clean clone wetware without a formed soul, which is more suitable for recasting Cawl."

As he finished speaking, the adamantine door of the office opened again.

Normally, no one would be able to enter this door without permission, but if it was the machine soul of the Iron Blood itself, it would be reasonable for it to be able to open the door.

The one who walked in was wearing brilliant gold and adamantium power armor. Under its exquisite classical appearance was surging power and powerful performance, and the red cloak behind him rolled up beautiful waves when he walked by; the other one was wearing Phoenician purple, white and gold power armor. His figure was as tall as the man next to him but slimmer and more well-proportioned, but by no means thin and unbalanced. Several weapons that looked like daggers but were actually various small tools were hung on his leather swordsman's belt and thighs, swaying with his balanced and coordinated steps, and the Ohm Messiah Gear Axe was hung where the long sword should have been.

As they entered, the office door closed silently again.

The one on the left was Magnar Dorn. The First Forge knew him, having seen the Iron Blood's master machine-spirit before, a work of spirituality, a true work of art by a master. He knew that the Archmagos coveted Magnar Dorn's structural designs and personality data package, and he knew that some of the Imperial Fists' bloodline would whisper and think of him as some fragment, reflection, or phantom echo of their lost Primarch.

The First Forger himself once believed that this was a mechanical spirit that simulated Rogal Dorn's personality, created by the pinnacle of engineering and code writing.

But now he just wanted to tell everyone that they were all wrong. In his warp vision and reality vision, anyone who walked in wearing Magnar Dorn's armor was absolutely, only, and must be the soul of Rogal Dorn himself.

The man on the right made the First Cast feel confused. The production of Phoenician purple paint had been extinct in the galaxy for thousands of years, and the same was true for the glorious and beautiful name it originally represented. But since he could enter side by side with Rogal Dorn, he could not be the man in the First Cast's memory.

"Ah, please take a seat, both of you." The man behind the desk pointed casually towards the office.

"We have no desire to fight." The giant, who looked suspiciously like Fulgrim, spoke up. His voice was just as pleasant as expected, but for some reason, there was a strange flavor to it, as if a golden thread had been twisted into the strings originally made of horsetail and silk. Although the sound was still beautiful and even louder, it always made people feel that it had become more unshakable.

"I know, little Phoenix." The man behind the desk smiled. "Theoretically, this shouldn't have happened if Dorn was here, so you came here, right? How much did he tell you?"

"Not much," said the young god known as Phoenix, "but enough for me to understand the seriousness of it."

The ice-blue eyes looked at him with a certain horror, "Don't you want to know more? Perhaps your status deserves more respect."

"I don't think there's any disrespect here." Light lavender eyes firmly met the ice-blue irises. "The premise has been made clear to me, and I believe that respect is both mutual and based on personal needs. I think I'm respected enough here. That's enough. We," he pointed to the other Perturabo standing at the desk, "are just here to make sure things don't get too bad."

"That's why I'm sitting here." The man behind the desk laughed, "Don't worry, he's fine SHHIIII——"

The sound stopped abruptly.

(End of this chapter)