Warhammer: Empire Reboot

“Look at these hands. These hands have dissected more than 3,000 Space Marines, more than 700 Psiters, thousands of Eldar, and many Primarch clones in the past 10,000 years. These hands have deciphered seventeen hidden genetic chains from the Emperor’s genetic blueprint that even the Great Sage Caul did not know. These hands have designed a completely new species, a creation from scratch.”

He withdrew his hand and put it into his robe pocket.

"You want me to go through the approval process?"

"Your Excellency, do you know what science is? Science is groping in the dark, finding the only path to survival among a thousand dead ends. Approval means that someone has to decide for me which path is viable and which is not before I even begin to explore. The question is, what percentage, a thousandth, or even ten-thousandth of my understanding of genetic science does that person who makes those decisions have?"

He held up one finger.

"The Emperor tried to order me to work. I've been the chief apothecary of the Sons of the Emperor for thousands of years, conducting 'compliance research' according to his blueprints, his standards, and his approval processes for millennia. And what was the result? Half of the Primarchs rebelled. I saw the flaws hidden in his genetic code on day one, but he wouldn't let me change it."

The second finger.

"The four Chaos gods tried to command me to work. Slaanesh gave me the blessing, thinking I would kneel down and shout 'Glory to Chaos' like the other fools. I took the blessing, used it to optimize my own genetic modification program, and then continued to be my atheist. Slaanesh still doesn't understand why its blessing doesn't corrupt me. Because before I received the blessing, I had already modified my soul structure so that Slaanesh's energy could only be used by me and could not control me in return."

The third finger.

"Abaddon tried to order me to work. That bald guy threatened me with the Black Legion's force, making me build super soldiers for him. I built him a batch of inferior products that looked strong on the surface, but their genetic stability only lasted for six months. Six months later, the organs of those super soldiers began to dissolve. Abaddon still doesn't know that it was intentional."

"The Emperor, Slaanesh, Abaddon, all tried to turn me into their tool, and they all failed. You, the Marker, cannot do it either!"

"I don't work for anyone."

Lawson wasn't disappointed; he nodded and said, "As expected."

It's as if he already knew what the answer would be before he even extended the invitation; the invitation was just a formality.

"The Empire killed you seven times, and you were resurrected from clones seven times. Your reliance is on the transfer of consciousness after death, right? You use the spare clones scattered throughout the galaxy to come back online. That's why you're so calm. No matter who's on the other side, the worst outcome is just changing your body."

Bayer's right hand gripped the emergency syringe again in his pocket.

His thumb pressed down on the end of the syringe.

Then, everything came to a standstill.

Lawson's psionic global silence field unfolded in the control room.

The dust particles in the air remained suspended in mid-air.

The alarm lights on the control panel were still flashing, the ventilation ducts in the distance were still vibrating, and the disinfectant mist in the air was still slowly flowing.

Only Bayer stopped.

His muscles, nerves, bones, eyelids, tongue, and even the reflex of pupil contraction were all nailed to their original positions by an invisible spiritual power at the same instant.

He can still think.

That's the worst part.

Bayer knew perfectly well that his thumb was less than a millimeter away from the syringe plunger.

He knew perfectly well that if he pressed down for just 0.5 seconds more, his current physical body would die, and the consciousness transfer protocol would be activated.

But he couldn't do it.

Don't even mention pressing the syringe.

He can't even blink.

"Great scientist, let's do one last experiment. See if you can revive him this time."

Bayer's eyes were unable to move; he could only stare with a fixed gaze as Lawson approached.

He watched with clear head as the dark golden claws descended.

The next instant, his head was severed from his neck.

Horus's Claw cut through Bayner's bio-alloy skeleton, which had been strengthened over ten thousand years, as easily as cutting through a block of tofu.

Even in the brief moments after his head was removed from his body, Bayer's consciousness did not immediately die out.

He could even see his headless body standing in place.

Then, death triggers the neural synaptic network.

The consciousness transfer protocol was activated on time.

The transfer of consciousness failed, and then it began to be forcibly intercepted by some kind of will.

Bayer's entire conscious data—memories, experiences, knowledge, and personality—was intercepted by swarm intelligence.

100% interception!

The swarm intelligence technique took about three seconds to decompress and index all of Bayer's memories.

Lawson knew everything that Bayer knew.

The locations of all the secret laboratories are scattered across forty-one star systems on the dark side of the Empire and the edge of the galaxy.

The coordinates, defense deployment, staffing, and research direction of each location.

All the storage locations for the clone backups were Bayer's own resurrection insurance.

All of these insurance policies have now expired.

Without the input of conscious data, those clones will forever remain empty shells.

In addition, all the results of genetic research.

The genetic blueprint of the New Humans, the purification formula of stem cell culture medium, the detailed steps of the protozoan cloning technology, the design parameters of the gland hounds, the formula of the anti-Space Marine bioweapon, and all the genetic modification experience and experimental data that Bayer has accumulated over ten thousand years.

There's one more thing.

The complete experimental record of that "accidental success" when Bayer cloned Fograim.

Although Bayer himself did not know the exact reason for the success, he meticulously recorded every parameter, every environmental variable, and every operational step in the experiment.

Lawson issued a series of orders.

“Extract all technical data related to genetic engineering from Bayer’s memory, package and synchronize it to Agrippina’s million-gene research team, with the highest priority.”

"The Third and Fifth Companies of the White Tiger Regiment, immediately proceed to the seventy-three laboratory coordinates in Bayer's memory to take over. Preserve all research equipment, experimental data, and live samples. Capture the researchers alive."

"The Lurker Chapter, proceed to the nineteen clone storage sites and bring back all clones."

A dozen or so T-sequence robots entered, and with the help of the robotic arms, they began to dismantle the scientific research equipment in the control room in an orderly manner.

Analyzer, culture platform, gene editing equipment, data terminal.

After all the force fields are fixed, they are sent to the transmission node of the static force field.

Lawson glanced at the head.

The top three gene scientists in the galaxy.

A true madman and creator.

He died in the true sense of the word.

But his research will continue.

Lawson released the force field from the Horn of Abundance.

The moment the constraint disappeared, the subspace energy accumulated in that horn was released all at once.

The intense, filthy, and corrupt odor spread rapidly, like an invisible signal flare.

The earth's surface.

Mortarion's giant war scythe is raised high.

Before him, Teva's golden power armor was mostly shattered, and the Guardian Spear was broken in two.

Mortarian stopped a split second before the scythe fell.

His head suddenly turned towards the ground.

That smell... it's from the Corner of Fertility!

An aura surged up from seven hundred meters underground, so intense that it ignited Mortalian's entire sensory system.

Motalian abandoned Teva.

The Primarch's massive body turned, its rotting wings unfurled, and it swooped down directly toward the underground laboratory.

The five-meter-tall body crashed through the alkaline desert surface, through the rock layers, and through the metal ceiling above the laboratory, like a dark green meteorite that plunged seven hundred meters underground.

When Mortarian crashed into the underground laboratory, the entire control room felt as if it had been struck by a decaying meteorite.

The five-meter-tall Primarch rose from the smoke and dust.

His rotting wings stretched across half of the control room, with pus trailing from the edges of the wing membranes, making a sizzling, corrosive sound as it dripped onto the ground.

Wherever the light from the dawn lamp on the left swept across, mold began to grow on the metal walls.

Mortarion's full attention was immediately fixed on the hovering Plague Bounty Horn.

The plague mist surrounding Mortarion surged violently.

"Damn thief..."

"No, you're not Bayer."

Motalian then noticed Lawson.

Several T-sequences are dismantling the surrounding research equipment, while the robotic arm continues to operate stably.

The next moment, golden flames ignited on Lawson's body.

The golden light seeped from the gaps in his armor, ignited from the depths of his eyes, and spread outward from the metal floor beneath his feet, like a silent sea of ​​fire from the sun, instantly suppressing all the dark green plague mist in the control room.

Mortarian's body stiffened.

In that instant, he smelled Terra, he smelled the Golden Throne.

Lawson's voice rang out amidst the golden light.

"You are a traitor, you are a monster, but perhaps one day, you can still be saved."

Mortarian was stunned; he had heard that phrase before.

It's in Nurgle Gardens.

In that nightmare of golden fire burning and decaying the divine realm.

At that moment, the Emperor descended through Guilliman's body, golden flames burned through the boundaries of Nurgle Garden, the Plague Forest howled in the fire, the Great Unclean One melted like wax, and even the ever-present laughter of the Father paused for the first time.

Mortarian remembered kneeling on the ground, kneeling before the false emperor.