Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 612 So how does my dad make it more delicious?
“…Step 1: Knead the dough and make a hollow pie crust with it. Poke a fist-sized hole in the bottom.
Step 2: Pinch the top and sides of the pie crust into lace and dove shapes, fill the middle with flowers to keep its shape, and then put it into the oven;

Step 3: Bake the pie crust until it is golden and crispy, let it cool after it is fixed, and take out the flowers filled in through the hole at the bottom;
Step 4: Stuff the living white dove into the hole at the bottom;
Step 5: Once served, cut the top of the pie crust and the pigeon will fly out! Then serve your guests smaller pigeon pies made with seasoned pigeon meat..."

————A recipe recorded in a kitchen in the ruins of ancient Terra

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"Stop talking nonsense, can this thing be eaten?!"

Ramizane protested loudly, throwing aside the dataslate showing the fragile scanned photo of the ancient recipe.

"One can tell from looking at this thing that after it's cut open there will be a lot of pigeons inside—"

"Maybe this old thing doesn't have that function."

Perturabo BC's mood cast a rather grim expression on his phantom camouflage humanoid shell, his features appearing bone-deep and sunken in shadow, like the shadows cast by the sun of Olympia, which no longer exists, on the snowy peaks of this planet.

"After all, this flat-haired beast must have been transformed by him, and neither you nor I can explain why and how he became like this."

"Uh. There's really nothing I can tell you about this. If I knew, I would definitely tell you, Pepe." The librarian, who was very sensitive to the fact that his Border Collie was taking out his anger on him, scratched his scalp. The cables that needed to be reinserted under his scalp due to recent reconstruction and a lot of calculations were not mixed with his grown black hair.

"I know." Perturabo still replied gloomily. "But I don't think it's just an ordinary pigeon. I know the old skeleton too well. He can't be that simple, and he can't let himself become such an easily manipulated form. There must be something fishy going on."

His gaze turned to his body, which was exactly the same as before the office was breached. The black hair that had grown back on his scalp and then partially shaved off had been carefully braided into beautiful warrior braids by the bionic mechanical hands that Rilano, who had stayed on the Destiny Steel, had used to replace his clothes with his own. With incredible dexterity, the hair would not affect the cables.

And now the butler of the royal court was directing the other servants with the most elegant and steady steps of an elder that a Contemptor Dreadnought could take, to clean up and arrange a space for the princes inside and outside the pharmacist's laboratory in an orderly and rapid manner, so that the primarchs could work, hold meetings, summon guests, and even take a rest without losing their noble status.

Perturabo looked at the busy figure of the steward, whose enthusiasm for work had suddenly increased, with suspicion, but the other party's impeccable etiquette and response made it impossible for him to find any reason to find fault with Ramezane - although he wanted to do so very much now.

Their offices and other venues, which had been destroyed and repaired repeatedly recently, and the two Iron Lords themselves were still in good shape, thanks to the ancient sage who had arrived as soon as possible after the office break-in and the psychic outbreak ended.

No one knew what Rilano felt at that moment, but the steward of the royal court, who had been semi-retired and started writing some etiquette guides, gardening works and songs, organized the still movable and reliable warriors to come before arriving. Then they began to cordon off the scene, clean up the aftermath, and calm the lower deck.

Rilano even miraculously immediately mobilized a team of people from various places, led by him personally, to arrive in time to obey the orders of the primarchs.

Perturabo had not listened to Ramezane's compromise before, but out of some ancient suspicion or stubbornness that was clearly revealed at this critical moment, he had sent away Rilano and his men, leaving only the Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists members he believed to be reliable to guard the door. As a result, he was now privately even more annoyed to find that he now had to rely on this experienced royal court steward who had rich experience in serving the Emperor's court to do his work.

Because Ahlin, as the highest-ranking Iron Warrior on the ship, was determined to fulfill his duties as a Trident and aide-de-camp, and believed that he could not and could not lose to Dantioch.

So when the office door was opened and attacked, when Dantioch, the ancient iron warrior standing at the head of the first row, said to Him with admirable courage and determination, "You can't pass", Ahlin standing next to him also pointed his gun at Him.

Honor, courage, and determination are commendable, but when facing a being that once possessed such tremendous power, the result is still obvious.

The First, Second and Tenth Companies all suffered heavy losses - the good news is that it seems that because of Ramizarn's miraculous performance in the last moments, many people were dragged back from the abyss of death and collapse - but they were just pulled back.

So the bad news is that the loss of their combat power or most of their physical form is inevitable. When the Iron Lords walked out of the office and summoned the pharmacist master who was ordered to guard the gene seed library in the pharmacist's laboratory to the scene to start battlefield first aid, Ahlin and many other soldiers were almost dead - according to Hong Suo's opinion, "It's incredible that he is not dead even though he has melted like this. It seems that Dantioch blocked it for him."

As the main body left here by Magna, the Seventh Primarch sleeping in the life-support cabin of the safe and the external equipment are also in urgent need of inspection and overhaul. The Destiny Steel had to close a large area recently until the impact of the core meditators of the flagship subsided, because people reported that when they walked into some areas, they would feel some extremely strong emotions, or they might find themselves running into the illusion of the city of yellow sand and brass.

Such a huge and devastating loss has made the computing power and human resources of the Destiny Steel, which are barely enough to cope with the unfolding space-time business - especially the Iron Warriors' human resources, even worse.

It was obvious that some of the anger that Perturabo had felt after reading the report that had already started to turn red had been transferred to this pigeon that was most likely the Emperor in person.

This is clearly reflected in the pile of pigeon recipes in the corner of the desk.

"That depends on the results of Honso's examination of it. Neither you nor I are experts in avian biology. -- Honso?"

Ramizane raised his voice, and the person he was questioning was the master pharmacist who was hunched over the operating table in the laboratory nearby and busy at work.

"No matter how much you delay this time, I will cook him."

The voice of the Lord of Black and White Steel was calm, but it was just an illusion. He waved his hand towards the other side of the pharmacist's laboratory - that was the medical cabin and life support cabin on the Iron Blood, which were equipped with advanced equipment and comfortable decoration but most of them had been vacant for a long time. Now, the flashing lights and various changing information on many hatch covers indicated that they were all being used.

"I understand the plight of your loyal descendants. If they knew that you were planning to cook your father in various ways because of their serious injuries, they would definitely be very touched..."

"I'm not doing this for these foolish, weaklings! How can steel waver to remove rust?" Perturabo interrupted him hastily, even with a hint of ancient gunpowder in his voice, "I just happened to wave my hand there."

"Okay, okay, baby Pepe, whatever you say is what it is."

"My Lord." The voice of the Master of Alchemy interrupted their conversation. The two God-giants, who looked like twins except for the color of their eyes, turned their eyes to the offspring who had transformed from a war blacksmith to a master of alchemy and genes and was obviously gifted in this area. "The test results are out."

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"Impossible!" Perturabo roared, "I will pluck his feathers and roast him like a pigeon! No, no," the Iron Legion's master began to pace rapidly back and forth on the polished floor of the laboratory, walking back and forth, "Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

He stopped, turned, and waved his nonexistent cape as if he were still standing on the marble floor of the palace of Locus in Olympia.

"This is impossible! He must be hiding something else!"

"I've read Hong Suo's report," Ramizane was very calm, wearing LOGOS, sitting in his seat, holding the data board submitted by Hong Suo.

"Personally, I don't see any problem. From the physical examination results, it is just a pigeon, except, uh." He glanced again, "Except that it not only has weak psychic powers, but also psychic fingerprints and other special indicators point to it being your father. It is just a pigeon. To be honest." Ramizane added, "This really surprised me a little. How did it come about?"

"How else can it be formed?" Perturabo replied distractedly. "My calculations have never provided such a result." He glanced at Ramezane.

"Why are you looking at me? I told you I don't know why I had a pigeon in my hand the moment I blinked, and I knew in my heart that it was your father."

"Why did you catch Him after you knew it was Him is the question." Perturabo approached his body, his dark brown eyes staring at the ice-blue pupils under his tightly furrowed brows. "I shouldn't ask, but if I don't ask, I think I will always keep this question in my heart - what did you see when the door opened and the old man rushed in?"

“Uh…” Ramizane scratched his scalp which was slightly swollen due to the newly implanted cables. “I…if I must say, the first thing I saw was light. I forgot what I saw the second time, but I immediately thought of something I had read before.”

"what?"

"A chair. To be more precise," Ramizarn said, "a throne, a throne that was being carried. I was thinking, 'If it's this throne, there should be a dove on top.' So I looked up, and there really was a dove in the golden light, just as I thought. It was flying towards me in a panic, and was about to hit me in the face. So I reached out and grabbed it, and it was caught in my hand."

Perturabo stared at his own face, trying to find the slightest sign of deception or foolishness, but the other person was sincere, so sincere that he felt that this expression on his face was a little silly.

"That's it?" he demanded.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Ramizane recalled, “I really can’t remember what happened specifically, but there seemed to be someone sitting on the throne behind the pigeon.”

Perturabo's eyes narrowed.

"you sure?"

"I'm not sure! But I think there seems to be someone up there. The pigeon flew from above and was caught by me."

"That is to say," the black and white plush Iron Lord regained some calmness and began to think quickly, "the pigeon and the person on the throne are separated. Perhaps the pigeon is trying to fly away... If this is the case, it is not impossible to explain."

His eyes moved to the white dove that Hong Suo had stuffed back into the golden cage after the inspection. After submitting his report, the pharmacist had already retired to take care of the wounded.

The pigeon cooed, its round, dark eyes showing no emotion that any human could understand. It grasped the perch in the cage with its claws and used its beak to concentrate on pecking at the handful of food that Ramizar put in there.

"Perhaps I can better determine his specific condition if I dissect it and connect it to a controllable system for retesting and monitoring experiments," Perturabo said tentatively.

"That's fine with me, Pepe. Why are you asking me?"

"You won't stop me? He could be none other than... the Emperor of Mankind. He could be the hope or god of many in this universe."

"Anything is fine? He's your father, you can do whatever you want, stew him, roast him, fry him... I don't care what you do with your father." Ramizarn looked puzzled, "Don't ask me about this, Pepe, just do whatever you think is appropriate. How long have I lived here, and how long has Perturabo existed here? You must have more experience in this area!"

"You trust me so much?" The Lord of Steel asked softly and in a low voice, "Forget me, I am the Demon Prince of Chaos."

"Hey, don't I know how much water there is in your undivided chaos!" Ramizarn shook his head. "Anyway, I see that you have been doing a good job for so long! Besides, I believe in you, my Perturabo, you are the most capable and intelligent in the world... cough cough!"

He stood up and tried to reach out to comfort Perturabo, but the latter dodged and indicated that this was not a place suitable for such private behavior. So Ramezan walked to the birdcage with a mutter and bent down to tease this pigeon, which was probably the most noble pigeon in the universe.

He thrust his fingers through the bars of the cage and teased the dove.

"This pigeon feels a little thin. It would be better if it could be fatter..."

Before he could even utter the word "eat", Ramizane let out a surprised "Huh?"

(End of this chapter)