Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The communications officer glanced at him, asked no further questions, and restarted the comparison process.

Four seconds later, it was still 99.7%.

Nakir closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"The father of genetics is back!"

On the Dark Oath, Grand Master Ravenwing Corvos is processing casualty statistics following the sinking of the Flawless Justice.

The data board displayed a long list of casualties.

The explosion caused by Huron detonating the subspace engine just now took the Impeccable Justice and three escort ships, with over seven hundred of his men sinking with them. Kovacs is currently checking each ship to see if the gene-seeds have been recovered.

Then the Lion King's voice came through the communication station.

“I am Leon El Johnson, Primarch of the First Legion.”

The data panel slipped from Ecovacs's hands, its corner hitting the ground.

Kovacs looked at the communications station, and all the Ravenwing brothers stopped what they were doing.

Ecovacs took a deep breath and roared, "Play back the recording, now!"

Ecovacs listened to it twice.

On the third time, he went to the communication station, retrieved the voiceprint data himself, and compared it with the Primarch's voice records stored inside Ravenwing.

Match successful!!!

Ecovacs placed his hand on the communication console, supporting his weight, unable to hide his excitement.

"Is it really our father who has returned?"

On the Bone Fortress, Grand Master Belial of the Deathwing reacted differently.

Belial is the leader of Deathwing, the innermost ring within the innermost ring.

He knows more secrets than Nakil and Kovacs combined.

He knew the Lion King was not dead; this was one of the Unforgiven's most fundamental secrets.

The inner circle members have passed down a belief from generation to generation: He will come back.

Ten thousand years have passed, and he has returned!

The message spread faster within the Unforgiven squadron than any formal communication.

Within thirty seconds, people in every corridor of every warship were confirming with each other.

Did you hear that?

"Has the voiceprint been compared?"

"Is it real?"

A Dark Angel warrior, covered in blood, leaned against the bulkhead after surviving a boarding maneuver. Upon hearing the news relayed by his comrade, he grabbed the other's wrist.

"What did you say? Say it again."

"The voiceprint of the Father of Genes, which was successfully matched, originated from the flagship of the Palm Printer."

The soldier's fingers tightened so much that they left a dent in his comrade's wristband.

There was a light in his eyes.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. The sound came from the communication system. No one saw it with their own eyes."

"How can we be sure? What if it's an enemy's trick? What if it's an illusion created by chaos?"

The debate was taking place simultaneously on every warship.

Some were excited, some were skeptical, and some oscillated between confirmation and denial.

The rational training in Astartes instilled in them a reluctance to easily believe anything.

Especially the Dark Angels, a chapter known for its suspicion and caution.

They were trained to be skeptical of everything, vigilant about everything, and keep their distance from everything.

Lawson has taken over tactical command.

Dozens of projection screens unfolded simultaneously.

Within minutes of arriving on Dragon Spirit Star, Swarm Intelligence had completed a comprehensive scan of the battlefield situation, including the deployment of the Chaos Fleet, the firepower distribution of the Ominous Ark, the planetary orbital defense nodes, the remaining combat power of the Unforgiven Squadron, the location of the ground battle line, and the ratio of enemy casualties to friendly casualties.

After reviewing the data, Lawson made a judgment within three seconds.

"Grand Master Nakir, please respond."

"My Lord, I am here."

“Your fleet is pinned between the planetary firepower and the Omen Ark by Huron. Staying in the current position will only result in it being completely consumed. I’ll give you a way out. Now, pull your fleet up thirty degrees to get out of the planetary firepower’s line of fire. My vanguard fleet will cut in from the flank and hold off the Omen Ark’s first round of turning fire for you.”

Nakiel hesitated for half a second.

Raising the elevation by 30 degrees means temporarily abandoning orbital fire support for the ground front.

"Ground front..."

"I'll handle things on the ground; you focus on protecting the fleet."

Nakil made the decision: "Unforgivables formation, lift the entire ship thirty degrees and escape the planetary fire range."

The Unforgivables formation begins to move.

The damaged warship slowly adjusted its posture, while warships with intact shields provided cover on the outside.

Meanwhile, Lawson's vanguard fleet, consisting of the White Tiger, the Red Dragon, and six large cruisers, accelerated in from both sides.

After the vanguard formation moved into position, the Ominous Ark's firepower indeed shifted.

Dark energy beams and subspace projectiles slammed into the shields of the White Tiger and Red Dragon, causing the void shields to flicker violently.

The Unforgivables formation successfully escaped the planetary fire range.

Nakir regrouped his formation in three minutes, then turned to join Lawson's fleet, and the two fleets merged.

The situation in the orbital battlefield has changed from one-sided slaughter to a state of evenly matched strength.

Ground battlefield.

When the Lion King descended upon the surface of Dragon Spirit Star, the battle line had already been pushed to the last line of defense by Bellak.

The Dark Angels' ground forces suffered heavy losses in the previous battles.

The remaining forces retreated to the ruins of an imperial fortress, using tower shields, heavy weapons, and their own bodies to block every gap.

Bellacoo charged headlong into the battlefront.

The body of the nascent shadow appears in reality as a solidified mass of darkness.

The demon sword in his hand was invincible.

A Dark Angel Terminator raised the Storm Shield in an attempt to stop them.

Bellacos's sword swept across, shattering the Storm Shield, splitting the Terminator armor open at the chest, and throwing him more than ten meters away.

Next, yet another Dark Angel falls.

Bellac took the next step, intending to end their lives.

A figure shot out from the shadows to the side.

It was so fast that Bellacord's senses only caught a fleeting afterimage.

The greatsword slashed in from the side, colliding with Bellacord's demon sword.

The shockwave spread outward from the point where the two weapons met, sending rubble and corpses flying.

Bellacow slid back two steps and looked down at the attacker.

White hair, ancient armor, and a giant sword.

Bellacos recognized the aura; he had seen the soul imprints of all the Primarchs in the Warp.

"Zhuang Sen, you're finally awake."

The Lion King's answer was the second sword.

The assault soldier rescued by the Lion King had gotten up and was leaning against the ruins, staring in shock at the battle unfolding before him.

His brain was still processing information, comparing portraits, records, and fragments of images from 10,000 years ago in the relic room.

But his blood has already given the answer.

Deep within his chest cavity, a genetic seed exploded, unleashing a signal that had been dormant for ten thousand years.

It's my father!!

The assault soldier stood up unsteadily.

His left arm servo system failed, the power armor alarm kept going off, he had two broken ribs, and there might be blood in his lungs.

Just three seconds ago, these injuries made him feel like he was about to die.

He can't feel it anymore.

The pain was overshadowed by something much stronger: excitement, madness. He felt as if he had been given an overdose of adrenaline.

He roared to his brothers over the comms: "That's right, he really is the father of genetics!!"

"I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"Right ahead! The man fighting Bellac is our father!"

"He's really back!"

"My father saved me, honor!!!"

On the ground front, every surviving warrior of the Dark Angels, Devotees, Penitents, and Unforgiven chapters turned to look at the battlefield.

Look in the direction where the white-haired old man and the newly born shadow are fighting.

Then their blood responded.

The genetic imprint of the Primarch left a permanent mark on the creations of Astartes.