Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 415 The beginning of confusion and misunderstanding, Xin Liezhi's favorite prelude
"What did he and they mean by this? Has he finally gone mad, or has he been mad for a long time? What do you mean I can't let him down again? Could it be that the Fulgrim of this world has done something that I haven't been told? No - could it be that the Fulgrim of this world is not even the father of the Great Betrayer? But I clearly saw the characteristics of my gene seed manifest, and there is this sense of connection to the warp energy. It is very strange, not as good as my loyal descendants, but it does exist."

In the golden and silver data thinking link between the bird and the person, the Fearless Phoenix, who was extremely surprised by the accusation just now, quickly asked the Gorgon, the native inhabitant of this world.

Not knowing how to answer for a moment, Iron Hand once again fell into some hesitation and contradiction.

Obviously, when Fulgrim Ishtar came, he was indeed told enough about the major events here, but perhaps some of the more detailed and private issues were not told to him in detail due to politeness, embarrassment or forgetfulness of the person who told him at the time, or it was not considered necessary to tell him immediately.

Of course, Ferrus Manus, who had tried to crack and privately connect to the Iron Blood database as soon as he woke up and had lied to a child without any guilt (what child? Dorne is Dorne. Can it be considered cheating to ask a brother for data information? This matter between brothers cannot be considered cheating...), knew more and more details, and thought it was necessary to keep some of it for now.

But undoubtedly Garuda was beginning to regret it now: he had wanted to find a more appropriate occasion and use a more gentle way to slowly tell this fearless phoenix, whose appearance was as cold as the moon and whose heart was as scorching as the sun, about these things, so as not to cause further agitation of his emotions and deterioration of his physiological data.

Who knew that his calculations, which he thought were foolproof, were still no match for the tampering of destiny.

Telling him now might be the worst possible time, but it's still a little better than keeping it a secret now.

—I hope so. Garuda sighed silently with its golden beak.

Then, within the next light second, more information about the Third Legion and Fulgrim from this world (and unfortunately, some of it came from ancient Terran librarians telling a child about ancient times, and the child carefully classified them and recorded them in the database) flowed into the cerebral cortex where Fulgrim Ishtar resided.

About one-twentieth of a blink of an eye later, goose bumps began to appear on the skin of everyone in the pharmacist's laboratory because of the trembling and the warning of the ancient human instinct of danger - if they still had their own hair follicles or individuals.

Feeling the huge threat, the gland hounds saliva flowed and tightly grasped the weapons in their hands - they did not feel fear, but they could feel the escalation of danger and the arrival of huge murderous intent.

"Fabius Bile—!"

The platinum-colored psychic flames on Shabal's saber rose up, black lightning bit the air like a flying snake, and the smell of ionized molecules filled everyone's senses.

The saber dance dedicated to the god of death created a tornado of sharp blades in this room filled with the smell of rotten meat and disinfectant.

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This hateful intelligent humanoid made of metal that looked more like a living thing than flesh and blood was so swift that the Chief Pharmacist's movements were as slow as those of an old dying man, and as stiff as a puppet in the face of the swinging of the Shabal saber.

The ancient targeting system on Fabius's power armor was unable to lock onto the figure rushing towards him in the apothecary's laboratory, and he had to resort to the genetic instincts that were originally implanted in him. Unfortunately, these fighting instincts had become somewhat dulled due to countless centuries of disuse and lack of exercise.

The Chief Pharmacist always hides behind the scenes and in every lair he built, indulging in his hunting, harvesting, splicing and experiments, especially after he had his first group of qualified creations. His kennel is now filled with the cries of babies and vibrant young bodies. The pack of hounds has become large enough and combat-ready, and his remaining brothers and apprentices have been persuaded by his words or addicted to the drugs he provided, so that he has not been to the battlefield in person for a long time, and only holds a cane as a spectator and commentator of the battle.

To him, the front line of the battle was an almost unfamiliar place.

Damn it, this weird, blasphemous creation with the throbbing soul of his genetic father but the appearance of Ferrus Manus was too fast!
This must be the mad work of the Iron Hands. Fabius made this judgment with little effort based on the limited invasion intelligence he received. It was no secret in the Eye of Terror's intelligence network that these crazy iron blocks had tried to resurrect their Primarch with metal debris and a few remaining skeletal remains...

But why is this abomination carrying Fulgrim's soul? Is this another new inspiration for the Lord of Pleasure? Assuming this is Fulgrim, who are the others? What are they?
As the Chief Pharmacist's mind raced, he realized that he had to leave immediately, otherwise he would most likely die early.

Damn it! The fighting movements of this anthropomorphic machine are so familiar, perfect, precise and swift, just like Fulgrim! This group of Iron Hands must have used some forbidden lost technology. But they always hide it well, Fabius thought, it was a wrong conclusion to think that there was no flesh and blood to harvest from them... This technology... Although his specialty research direction is in genes and flesh and blood, maybe it can be used as an auxiliary...

At that moment Arrian, his favorite multi-tool, apprentice, and attendant, gave a battle cry and rushed towards the blasphemous machine that was pulling the Shabar Saber from the Son of Horus' spine, and Fabius saw with a shudder in his mind that the saber was not stuck in the Astartes' reinforced skeleton at all, thus not creating the slightest sluggishness that Arrian had thought it would.

The Chief Apothecary watched as it drew an arc in the air that was all too familiar to any Emperor's child, then dragged the blade across, easily cutting the skilled World Eater in two. As the yellowed skulls of the eight battle-brothers on his belt also turned into two smooth halves, Arrian's body fell to the ground with a thud.

Now, the only things between Fabius and this uninvited guest were the former gravekeeper and his demon pet, who were wearing pale, bulging and stinking Iron Cavalry Terminators, the few remaining glandular hounds, and the Word Bearers apostle who was lying on the ground unable to get up. Even though the other apothecary apprentices or hounds even had the intention to stop or fight, the supernaturally sharp saber and the perfect fighting skills of the man holding the saber did not leave any room or time for any creature who tried to stop "Fulgrim" with the appearance of Ferrus Manus to have any chance of survival.

But Fabius knew he still had a chance. He needed to distract his attackers so he could find a way out, as he had done for centuries, and he would always find a way out and be resurrected again.

Igli, his loyal Igli, Fabius saw her through the chaos. The matriarch was climbing up to a higher place with two of his most favored twin hounds, Mesha and Mesana.

Her eyes met the chief pharmacist's in the air. Very good, they would deliver a fatal blow. Even though it would not succeed, it could buy him enough time, and that was enough.

Fabius nodded approvingly at her to reward their bravery, then turned away, ignoring the sad look on Igli's face as she was about to say something.

The auspicious instrument on his armor scanned the stripe codes on the hounds' faces, constantly reporting their names and losses. Then he pushed aside the hounds and mutants who were shouting simple poems praising his name and praising their benefactors, and rushed towards the blasphemous intelligent robots that were rushing towards him with hatred. He ran in the opposite direction towards the back of the secret room and began his strategic retreat.

(End of this chapter)