Warhammer: My buddy has too many secrets!

Chapter 150 I will die gloriously alongside you

"Impact in ten seconds!"

A soldier's low growl came through the automatic communicator. Luca Perry tensed up, pressing himself firmly against the central core of the drop pod. All the Terminator armor's servers were locked to withstand the immense force of the impact!

They were soldiers from the Sixth Company of the Steel Hands. Through the armored outer flaps of the drop pod, he saw countless twisted and deformed demons, and towering demon engines.

But all of that seemed irrelevant—because before that, they had received a message: their genetic father had been resurrected by a demon and was now under siege!

The lack of artillery fire seemed incredible, but the vibrations of the reverse booster and the violent impact of the subsequent landing rippled his gravity straps.

But Luca Perry was a seasoned veteran who was used to such violent deceleration processes, and his body had already undergone sufficiently exaggerated mechanical modifications.

"Too weak and frail!"

This is their battle cry. In order to put this idea into practice, his hands and legs have long been transformed into mechanical bodies. The mechanical cushioning is many times better than flesh and blood in their eyes!

Such modifications are commonplace in the hands of steel!

The "Iron Ten" was known for its extensive use of biomimicry, which became even more pronounced during the 40k era, with every recruit joining the Iron Ten.

After that, they will cut off their original arms and replace them with modified steel prosthetic arms.

There are many reasons for this ceremony.

Primarch Feralus of the Steel Hands believed in a high-pressure elimination policy during the Great Crusade. He believed that constant wars were to eliminate the weak and train powerful new recruits for the Chapter. Therefore, he turned a blind eye to all the hardships suffered by his people on his homeworld.

After the Horus Rebellion, when the Legion was reorganized into a warband, the Iron Hand became hermits, seeking ways to make themselves stronger so that they could serve under Feralus Manus again at the end of time.

Because the Primarch of the Iron Ten, Ferrus, had a battle with a creature named Asinos when he was young, he pushed his opponent into magma during the fight, and Asinos's space undead metal shell melted and fused with his arm.

As a result, Felus acquired a pair of powerful steel hands. The offspring of the steel hands, influenced by their father's ideas and worship of him, coupled with the tragic news of the death of the Father of Genetics, many of them came to believe that the physical body was a symbol of weakness and attempted to erase it from themselves through mechanical enhancement.

The Steel Hands believed that the greatest honor they could receive was to be buried in the Dreadnought armor.

In the so-called Iron Blessing ritual, the Iron Hand replaces a part of the body with bionics, and a powerful warrior may even undergo multiple surgeries, replacing almost all of his body's tissues with metal.

Therefore, the firepower and combat effectiveness of this army can be described as top-notch.

At that moment, as soon as the parachute landed, the explosive bolts on the hatch detonated, and the protective panels, covered in burn marks, flew out.

As the force of the impact landed, the gravity straps were released, and the warriors of "Iron Ten" rushed out, where they saw the replica of Felus rising from the rocks in the distance!

"My father!"

"The father of genetics!"

The Astartes of the Steel Hands felt their remaining flesh surging wildly. Although the machines forcibly controlled their blood flow, their minds were still shaken by the presence of the Father of Genes before them!

Besides the Father of Genetics, there are endless mountains of demons in the outside world, and thousands of Slaanesh wings trailing flames are turning the originally gray sky into a filthy fabric of light and smoke.

Undoubtedly, in normal tactical judgment, this is a trap. But if the warriors of "Iron Ten" were told that their genetic father was in the trap, then Astartes of the Iron Hand would resolutely step into this realm of death!

The clone looked at the warriors behind him who shared a genetic affinity with him. Although he did not have the essence of the original, he could still feel a connection. He could still sense that these so-called offspring no longer had much of their original flesh and blood; almost all of them had been replaced with mechanical prosthetics!

His own army had become the very thing he least wanted to see. Seeing this, he couldn't help but let out a low roar!

"I am not your father!"

For a moment, the Iron Hand warriors behind him stared at him in a daze.

Why?!

"Are we not strong enough?"

After sensing their gazes, the clone let out another deep sigh!

"I am not the real him."

The clone offered this explanation, but then turned to look at the filthy serpent demon slowly crawling out of the palace in the distance: "But I assure you, I will die gloriously alongside you! Fight on, children of humanity, the emperor's blade, warriors whose genes are close to mine!"

"go ahead!"

The clone roared!

Meanwhile, the Iron Hands who had landed here were also trembling violently. They didn't know most of the situation, but at this moment, an even more fanatical fighting spirit and faith erupted within them!

Meanwhile, the serpent demon that crawled out of the castle was also looking at the steel army that was constantly descending from space.

Are there too many people here?

The corrupted Fugrim looked up at the sky. He had only intended to lure a fleet of six Iron Hands, but now it seemed there were more than twice that number.

Primarch Forgrim's thoughts drifted. He remembered that he seemed to have made a pact with Abaddon's nephew, but soon the bomb from the Loyalists tangled into his delicate snake tail. The pain, under Slaanesh's blessing, twisted into pleasure, causing the serpent to convulse once more.

Who cares about Abaddon? Let's just enjoy ourselves first!

The corrupted serpent demon brandished his sword and gave the order. The corrupted noise warriors who had gathered around him began to attack the Iron Hands' lines with their sonic weapons, and the Iron Hands retaliated with terrifying artillery fire.

Clone Felus once again clashed with the corrupted serpent demon. At this moment, the serpent demon felt that it had never felt its emotions so high in ten thousand years!

Because the cloned brother before him seemed stronger than any previous clone. His spirit was so resilient, his willpower so strong, and the blade he wielded so powerfully that Fogrem even momentarily believed that his own brother had truly been resurrected before his eyes.

Although if he were to get serious, if he were to get down to business, if he were to stop willingly taking harm for pleasure, if he were to be cautious and focused, he could easily kill the clone in front of him.

But the scorn and attacks from the clone Ferrus Marus stimulated his nerves and senses more than any other play he had tried in the past ten thousand years!

Coupled with the intense battle in the Solar System, everything seemed to be repeating itself, making Fogrem feel like he was the master of everything! Everything was too joyful!

This clandestine war will ultimately remain unknown to many.