Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 604 The coffin lid is lifted! ! ! ! -
Office of the Chapter Master of Destiny Steel,
1320 standard points before -
"Are they all okay?"

After waiting for a minute, looking at the person standing silently with a frozen smile behind the desk, and the brother who was also motionless beside the desk, Fulgrim Pallas finally couldn't help but ask.

The person being questioned naturally cannot be the leader of the Primaris, but can only be the one who seems to have experienced the most storms in this room so far.

Rogal Dorn took a look at his little brother through the sensors of Magnar Dorn's mechanical body.

The Primarch's excellent memory allowed him to remember how he last saw Fulgrim, and how he drove the Daemon Lord, who had been twisted and deformed into an inhuman form, from the walls of Terra.

Usually people or those who followed the Emperor's Children would think that Clone Fulgrim might be able to launch a glorious revenge and expedition against his corrupt original self, leading them to wash away the shame and dishonor of betrayal and corruption, restore the glory and splendor of the past, and gain a place in the new power.

The last point is actually the least noticeable but the most important.

If Fulgrim Pallas had finally brought them to the Empire instead of Perturabo, Dorn privately thought that these Phoenix Guards might not be as dedicated as they are now, or even if they wanted to be dedicated, they would definitely encounter more than one difficulty from the Inquisition or other Imperial agencies, and then once again, they would either defect or be sent to die. He was very sure of this.

However, Dorn also knew that Fulgrim Pallas's significance to what Perturabo was planning went far beyond Fulgrim's clone.

As the stable relay of a large number of special hubs hidden inside the Iron Blood and the dormant unconscious body of Magna Dorn, many details that Magna saw but did not know the meaning of were as clear as black and white on paper to Rogal Dorn - after all, Dorn knew Perturabo too well, just as this brother knew him very well.

——No, perhaps they only understand each other's thinking in the most superficial aspects of tactics and strategy. At other times, they still know nothing about their brothers.

But Rogal Dorn's thoughts turned and he said nothing more. He walked forward and carefully checked the situation of Perturabo BC, then walked over to check on Ramezan even more carefully.

At first glance, the two seem to be simply stunned, but if you look closely, you will find that they are actually stuck in that moment of time.

"They're fine," he said, and then realized that he was speaking through a converter. Apparently, a Perturabo BC had made a voice converter plug-in for Magna, who had recently needed to study and communicate frequently. Of course, he took another look and found that the plug-in's switch permission was not inside Magna's body, and it was also stipulated that the plug-in was not allowed to be used when certain vocabularies and objects were monitored.

Fortunately, it is now apparently not considered to be prohibited from use.

"An unexpected psychic insertion event caused a dimensional rift from the warp side... I must say, this sudden psychic accident reminds me of some stories."

"So, have they been attacked by psychic energy and their souls been taken away?" Pallas asked, "Can they recover on their own? Or do we need to go find them? Or hold some kind of ceremony? If someone needs to be present, I can contact Ferrus and Ishtar immediately."

"No, not for now, because this cannot be completely considered an attack, although it is certainly not a normal and friendly... approach." Dorn paused, as if thinking about how to explain it in a simple way to the remaining two.

"An unexpected, short-lived vertically split dimension has isolated them to some extent from the flowing space-time. Originally, this gap would only appear briefly for a harmless time before disappearing on its own. The inserted psychic energy used it as an opportunity to prolong its effect, but it did not completely break away from our dimension. It is like a transparent and fragile bubble that keeps the objects inside relatively still. However, this stillness is only for outside observers like you and me. For them inside, the time that has passed may be different from ours. But generally speaking, because this dimensional state is difficult to maintain for too long, they should be able to recover from it on their own and return to our space-time flow."

The young phoenix frowned and then unfolded.

"In other words, they are experiencing a brief warp storm within their own time bubble that affects only them. And they are experiencing some events within it that we cannot see."

“Very close.”

"So now we can only wait, or can we predict when they will return?"

"I think Perturabo looks like he will be the first to return. Oh, he's coming back, so he should be able to handle the next thing. I will return the body authority to Magna. You guys... don't tell him I've been here, okay? There has only been Magna Dorn here from beginning to end."

The young Phoenix nodded obediently, and the First One of the Primaris kept his mouth shut.

Three seconds later, Perturabo BC leaped to his feet with uncanny fury, and found himself nearly in contact with the metallic death mask of his most hated brother that Magnar Dorn had thrust before him.

"What are you doing here?! Get away from me! Get out of here!"

Perturabo's voice was like rolling thunder. He roared loudly in rage and cruelty, and at the same time turned his head and kicked the opponent in the abdomen. A huge sound of metal collision showed that the Lord of Steel used at least 80% of his strength. Fortunately, the twisting angle of the mechanical body was greater than that of humans. Magna narrowly avoided the fate of becoming a large golden wall decoration embedded in the wall.

"What's wrong with you, Sir?"

Those golden metals twisted like living things under the alert and astonished gaze of the First Caster, and then flowed back to where they should be, contrary to common sense. The First Caster hugged the Great Sage of Domination, who exuded the aroma of roasted brain flowers, at a loss, not knowing whether he should be surprised to find another evidence of the use of alien technology, or be terrified to hear Dorn's mechanical personality call Perturabo teacher.

But the talent he was given told him that it was best to keep quiet at this moment and let the Primarchs solve their own problems.

So Shouzhu remained silent, and used his power to make himself as invisible as possible.

"Are you hurt, teacher?" Magna returned in panic to the man who had just wanted to kick him out like a cannonball, while Pallas only took a few steps forward, frowning slightly, "You smell of blood!"

Perturabo was breathing heavily, his teeth sticking out from his lips, his pink gums visible, reminiscent of a hunting beast.

His face, which had always looked wise, cold and sarcastic since Pallas knew him, was once hideous. The expression he projected onto the human face seemed full of hatred, anger and a desire for destruction, but when he glanced at the death mask of Rogal Dorn on Magnar's face, the muscles on his cheeks twitched violently twice.

Magna immediately caught his pause.

"Go check on Ramizane, he's not moving!"

Sure enough, this sentence succeeded in cooling the burning anger in Perturabo from magma to basalt as quickly as a bucket of ice water.

The Lord of Steel immediately walked behind the desk, and after checking for a while, his expression relaxed a little, but his brows were still frowned.

The three people present had very sharp hearing, but even so they could only hear him mumbling something like "I still bit too lightly" and "It's so old that the orcs won't eat it."

"Damn it! The crack was so short that it could be ignored, but it was dragged out by the old man for more than ten hours. If he thought this could change anything, he was totally wrong!"

Perturabo BC cursed and turned away, as if only now regaining awareness of the other people in the office.

"What are you still standing there for? Send this invincible guy Belisarius Cawl to the pharmacist's laboratory immediately! Tell Honso - never mind, I'll send the treatment program instructions to him myself, and I'll let Decima go with me. You," the Lord of Steel pointed at the Primaris and the young Phoenix arrogantly and unquestionably, "take responsibility for sending your father over yourself. I know you have the power to levitate him, and Pallas will accompany you. And you," he looked at Magna again, with no guilt on his face for almost kicking him in two, "get me some water to rinse my mouth - I just got out of the battle and didn't react."

"I know, teacher," Magna understood what she meant by listening to the music, "You didn't mean it. I'll go get some water right away."

"Well, go ahead." The other two had already left in a hurry, taking the great sage who was almost familiar with them away from this place of trouble.

"How long was I in stasis just now?"

Only Perturabo BC and Magna were left in the room, and only then did he begin questioning them again.

"It wasn't too long, teacher. Only 484 seconds passed between when I realized something was wrong and when Pallas and I came here."

"Oh... so," Perturabo BC stared at him, "how did you find out that something was wrong here?"

"The viewing window in the office reported an abnormal number of attacks." Magna raised his metal face. "What's wrong? Is there something wrong, teacher?"

"…Nothing. Cawl's condition cannot be delayed any longer. Come and help me retrieve the biological data and start reconstructing his main brain. By the way, I can also teach you some ways to use the special data of the Mechanicus."

"Ok."

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Outside the Destiny Steel Chapel
现在
Defensive Position -
The cold light poured out from the chapel like sticky oil, enveloping the place.

The Emperor stood on the inside threshold of the chapel. The dim flickering candlelight inside the chapel outlined a faint golden edge around his dark black body. Outside the door, the cloudy to sunny light shone on the silver metal surface of the defense mechas, creating a faint white glow.

If there were any devout believers of the state religion present at this moment, they would perhaps cry out in surprise and anger: the human form of the Emperor was extremely thin and miserable, His skull and torso looked as if they had been hit hard by a blunt object, His dark brown hair was stuck with dried blood, one of His eyes had long been gone, leaving only loose eyelids covering the empty eye sockets, He was wearing a simple white linen robe, and there were fresh bloodstains on His bare hands, feet and part of His torso.

These bloodstains meandered all the way from the altar where He struggled down to here, and thorns and roses now grew on the bloody footprints left with each step.

He slightly raised his head, with only a pair of calm eyes on his face that was always changing and could not be fixed in one impression, staring directly at the silver wall made up of mechas in front of the huge gate covered with runes and defensive measures, and the commander who was supposed to be there: former Dark Raven Guard Adarik Vannas was not in his position, or rather, the real Vannas didn't even know that he was assigned the order to guard here, and the one who took over the order was another "Dark Raven Vannas", so He could not successfully leave here.

This is not okay.

These sons are untreatable.

How come they don’t understand His painstaking efforts?

He had to get out of here.

This is an opportunity. Number Four's attention was drawn away by the accident He created on the other side. Sigismund was transferred away from here, and the emergency incident He just carefully caused in Comoros led away the last commander. Moreover, the time and space dislocation He created would also affect Clarks' judgment of time... This is the best opportunity.

His target was outside the door, on the Iron Blood, and in Perturabo's office.

The original planned amount and speed were completely insignificant compared to such a goal. His No. 4 had been used up to this point, and he thought that was the best way to use it. Unexpectedly, Perturabo seemed to have most of his power taken away and lost his usefulness, but he could still give him such a surprise.

But this "son" of His was really too calculative.

It was originally his own mistake due to his misunderstanding. Not only did he think too much, he was also easily dissatisfied with the assigned tasks and was afraid of being punished.

If he could be like Dorn, who gave up his so-called ideals when he made up his mind to obey orders, and be a good son who only prioritized executing his father's orders, then He could prepare some rewards for Perturabo sometimes...

But Perturabo was too smart and tended to think too much, while Dorn was different. Although he was also very smart, he was more willing to obey the Emperor's orders for his ideals. Once he made up his mind, he would resolutely execute it, even if it conflicted with his own principles. Such loyalty was the reason why He chose Dorn.

As the Emperor of Mankind, His Terran Guards needed even more obedience without reason. He didn't need someone who would think too much about the reasons, no matter how smart that person was - not to mention Perturabo...

But none of this matters anymore.

Now, in the inter-dimensional gap that does not exist but exists in time, he has caught a glimpse of a corner of the precious treasure found by No. 4. If he can master such power and resources, then everything that was forced to stop ten thousand years ago can continue... no, it can even be improved.

Under the will of the Emperor of Mankind, the interests of the Imperium of Mankind must be maximized.

The Emperor of Mankind will save humanity.

Likewise, the galactic territories must and can only be inhabited and ruled by humans whom He determines meet the standards.

All those who cannot meet His standards and are unwilling to agree with His ideas have only one way out: they must be completely eliminated.

As long as He can rush out and get No. 4's treasure...

He placed his hand, stained with sacred blood, against the door—this blood could only flow out in Perturabo's current form.

In an instant, the entire chapel began to tremble, the murals on the walls peeled off, the statues collapsed, and the pillars and the ground cracked into spider-web-like patterns.

The edge of the gate was shattered by his touch, and the fragments rained down on the defending mechas behind the gate.

The mechas opened fire.

Psychic bombs and rune bombs poured down like a rainstorm, but stopped one meter in front of him and hovered in the air.

He took a step forward, and those special ammunitions changed direction and shot back at a faster speed.

The armor was like paper in front of his power, and the mechas began to suffer damage.

"You can't stop me... This is my mission!"

(End of this chapter)