Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 476 He Woke Up
Calixis sector
Roaming Port

The people who were waiting in an orderly manner in the Court of the Dead became agitated: in the colorful lights of the light pollution advertising sign that was now shining day and night, suddenly the blue-purple part became very obvious as the gas leakage spread in the lamp tube. It flickered and jumped, crowding out several other colors and eroding the area of ​​​​other colors of light. Fortunately, the restaurant soon sent a team of maintenance personnel who looked very reliable to the neon lights.

They are all strong and powerful, wearing heavy ceramic armor, holding a variety of equally heavy and reliable repair tools, and carrying flying backpacks on their backs that spew out blue flame tails.

After a roar, the sound of jet backpacks, the clanging of hammers, and the colorful fireworks-like performances of chain saw cutting, thunder hammer knocking, plasma welding guns, etc., the neon billboard of the specialty store - or the "Torch of the Holy Sepulchre" quickly returned to its previous normal colorful state. The people who were watching the repair process with anxiety below praised the skilled repairmen in unison, and then sang hymns to the Holy Restaurant, scrambling to bathe in the brighter light after the repair.

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"What did you say?! Pepe baby! Oh! Pepe baby!"

Ramizane screamed in disbelief, then stood up and paced around his seat excitedly.

"You have already contacted Soltarn!!!"

In a certain wavelength band that he himself could not see, the picture reflected in Perturabo's eyes was that around Ramezane, wave functions, fermions, W and Z bosons, gluons, photons, Higgs fields and Higgs particles were in chaos, and entropy was increasing and decreasing at a more microscopic level within an extremely small range. Everything was exploding, generating, merging, reaching a critical point, and producing quantum tidal fluctuations and entanglements again at an abnormal scale like popcorn popping.

Any mortal who walks in at this moment without knowing it will immediately have their visual organs wiped out by the "non-existence that cannot be looked at directly" - yes, not even the vision, but the entire visual organ, as if they had never had it.

Perturabo BC could not help but admire his own foresight: although this row of boxes had all been reinforced, the position where they often sat was designed by him, and more guided energy lines and anti-eavesdropping devices were laid by Sigismund himself - there was absolutely no element of distrust in other brothers' descendants!

This was mainly because Sigismund, due to his current physical form, could more stably and accurately download the design drawings from the Iron Blood's main database and complete the fine construction here with his own hands, such as the Mobius Defense Ring or the Klein Array, without wasting those extremely rare and precious materials.

This is undoubtedly a more efficient approach, as long as it is not known by other members - Magna and Sigismund work so well together that a part of Perturabo BC's brain is already thinking that perhaps he can modify the two Iron Rings later, allowing them to be released from the huge but unsuitable mecha form for ordinary mortal fortresses and commercial facilities to this smaller size.

If you really can't make it as small as Whiterace, the Terminator is also a good size.

"It's been so long! We finally contacted a missing person! And Soltarn actually completed the entire story that was supposed to happen on Medlengard without me knowing?! Ahhhh! What a pity!!! Why couldn't I personally participate in this legendary story! Pepe! How could you hide such a big thing from me! We should have provided him with more help!"

Although the words sounded like complaints, a bright and joyful feeling began to extend invisibly from the restaurant. Not only Perturabo BC felt it, but even most of Wandering Port's spirits were lifted.

It is difficult to describe for those who do not know what this feeling is like, but those who come from planets with relatively normal climates will suddenly feel as if they are walking on a small road in their hometown, in the best season of the year, under the warm breeze and sunshine, with a golden rolling farmland full of fruits in the distance.

[…See, I knew that once I told you about this, you would definitely find a way to go there. Now that the matter has been basically resolved, there is no need for you to leave here.] Border Collie frowned. After being asked to temporarily appear in the form of a border collie several times so that the other party could "suck fur and relieve stress after work", Perturabo BC was too lazy to use illusion camouflage here when he was sure that no one would see it.

"But this is different! Okay, although I only glanced at the quick summary of the novel Dead Sky and Black Sun, I really should have read it carefully at that time... But that was Captain Ventress who could compete with Sicarius! Aaaaa, then according to the fact that we took Honso away a long time ago, and based on the information you contacted this time, he was not blown back to Medlengard at all, let alone met Ventress. Doesn't that mean... there should be something like the Demon Womb that shouldn't exist? What about those innocent children who turned into monsters? What about the truth of the Heart of Hydra? Will there be newborns? And what about the things that happened later?"

[I don't know yet. Oh, when I asked about the newborn for the third time, Soltarn mentioned Ventress and that he adopted a very special child. I guess he wanted to say the name was Samo something.]

"What do you mean by not knowing? Didn't you get in touch with Soltarn? Samo? It must be Samo-Kuan! That's the newborn! It seems that the timeline is still quite stubborn and reliable in some places, which is reassuring. - Eh? Wait, how do you know about the newborn?"

Ramizarn glanced at him again with a puzzled look, and Perturabo BC raised his paw calmly and held out his hand to the other party.

As expected, Ramizarn's eyes were immediately attracted by the dog's white, thick, furry paws that looked like those of a white bear. His last question was quietly answered by Perturabo BC, who was very good at making full use of his advantages.

【To be precise, it's not a complete connection. He kept calling me. Although the principle is different, the presentation effect is still close to astropathic communication. What's better than astropathic communication is that I can hear his report content more clearly. But the replies they can receive from me are very limited. I must say that this is not my problem, but their receiving equipment is too simple! I still don't know what kind of equipment they have used for communication. Judging from the final effect, the interference may come from both the time wall and the subspace, which makes me feel very irritated. 】

"Oh - maybe you shouldn't be so harsh on them. There are few stable planets in the warp. As far as I know, all the materials there have always been very scarce. Direct looting is the important means of survival for the Chaos Legion there. You and I know this very well. Has Kalan-Gor been destroyed? Be sure to remind him to destroy it! According to my previous speculation, it is a very dangerous and important thing. Destroying it will definitely be beneficial to the Fourth Legion."

Perturabo BC looked at Ramizane with some surprise, but didn't say much. "It was destroyed. It should be Ventress who strongly suggested that they destroy it. So I agreed to let them temporarily live in the front hall area of ​​the palace where I left it. It's safe there, as long as they don't leave the range of the palace shield and defense field. 】

"Since your palace is also there, is there no way for you to contact them through the equipment you left in the palace?"

[No. The space-time barrier between us is quite thick. Although the Great Rift has torn the veil of the real dimension almost to pieces, the violent primitive turbulence inside has greatly increased the difficulty of communicating across the space-time barrier. If we had not achieved some results in Calixis and left several anchor worlds, he would not have been able to find me through this primitive means of communication.]

The dog looked at Ramizane reproachfully at this point, [Your development progress here is really too slow! Ramizane Kalosini! We should be more proactive in attacking, expanding, annexing, and then quickly turning the acquired worlds into vassals, so that they can immediately produce resources and troops for us. Now the integration of Dorne and the Iron Blood is very stable. Gene seeds, well, Hong Suo made a batch before leaving, which should be able to last for a while. ]

"Mine can't be used? Uh, I mean, me, you see, now, your body. Seed."

Ramizarn turned around on the spot demonstratively, and the dog resisted the urge to press the throbbing vein on his forehead.

【cannot! 】

"Why?" [No means no! ]

"Okay, but I think our progress is pretty good. Now looking at the upward reports and the ever-expanding galaxy defense system makes me feel relieved and at ease!"

[In a place like this, having a bulging wallet will only make you a fat sheep! ]

"That's impossible. If we don't exchange the money for weapons, do we have to keep it for war reparations? War reparations are absolutely not allowed! - I'm saving money to buy the nearby asteroid shipyard. No matter how good the armory of the Destiny Steel is, Decima can't drive his base ship here. It's too conspicuous. The Imperial Navy and the Ministry of Justice here can still tolerate us because we seem to be on the verge of a fight."

[And you're also paying a lot of taxes on time, sending Space Marines to help the Ministry of Justice, and often taking things from my private storage to give away money, right? ]

"How can you say that! The Carlosini Dynasty is now the tax payer of Roaming Port this year, more than 22 points ahead of the second place! Although the legal officer of the Ministry of Justice is arrogant, the order here has indeed improved! He and I have a very harmonious relationship now!"

[Okay. Okay.]

"By the way, since Soltarn can call you, are there others, such as Maatra? Honso? Julius? Parogov? Fulgrim? Vanas? Emmenute? Lysander? Shanto? Also, is there any news about the Midnight Lords in the Far East?"

Facing Ramizane's expectant ice-blue eyes and the series of names he called out, Perturabo BC could only shake his head regretfully. [Except for Soltarn, there is still no news about the others. Kadur sent back a message saying that he might have some clues, but then there was no news. There is no new news from Ultramar. Before the Great Rift began, the Ultramarines were still stationed there.]

"What a shame! I hope they can find a way to contact us as soon as possible. Port Wandering's fame and influence are not enough right now. We need to make it more famous and turn it into a world as famous as Ultramar."

Perturabo BC nodded in agreement with this idea about his body.

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Somewhere in the subspace
Someone opened his eyes on a simple iron bed.

Not right.

First, the smell.

His olfactory organs and throat detection nerves tasted many complex, toxic and ominous smells: low-quality tobacco, the black mist of cremated corpses, and the strange aroma of hallucinogens extracted from organisms in the subspace, but there was no clean smell like a forest after rain or the wind blowing through the grass by the sea.

He sat up, in a daze for a moment, thinking that he saw the sky of Medlengard, which looked like it was burning with white phosphorus, through the bullet holes of varying sizes and the gaps between temporary buildings. A beam of bright white light leaked through the gaps and shone right in front of the toes of his boots.

His facial muscles were as still as water, without any expression, but his brain was almost screaming inside his skull.

For a moment, his urge to destroy the entire galaxy was almost uncontrollable.

He could have endured all the darkness, evil, and pain, a life in which only hatred and anger supported his body and soul in the armor - if he had not had a life in the sun on the Iron Blood - the Destiny Steel, which was completely different from this chaotic evil land or the rotting corpse-like empire.

Maybe nothing has ever changed?

Maybe he had always been just that half-blood who had been fighting in the Iron Warriors warband, sending people to death, fighting to survive. He shouldn't have known that he had another, different possibility besides serving evil, provoking fights and hatred.

It's all an illusion.

It is the darkest blessed gift bestowed by the dark gods upon their toys.

Before he began to grasp his weapon, he glanced down at the tip of his boot.

Not the ancient, patchwork-like, shabby power boots of the Iron Warriors, but the most advanced equipment in his armor was still on his vambraces, just as he remembered it, just as he had received these precious gifts.

Then he paused for a moment and began to sand away his beautiful apothecary-painted plating, mentally cursing whoever had caused his accident - words he would not risk speaking carelessly here.

Then, a moment later, all those beautiful markings, badges of achievement, and honors of being the Primarch's Chief Apothecary vanished, and there was nothing on his power armor to indicate that he was still the Iron Warriors' favorite son and the Chief Apothecary of the Iron Blood.

After doing this, he began to look around carefully again and started to think about the current situation.

(End of this chapter)