Mutant's Moon of Dusk Bloody First Day

934.M30.

In the Antimatz Sector, Vissa System, black ships translated in from realspace one after another.

Frigates and Destroyers spread out around the Transport Ship fleet at the center of the formation.

Among the fifty-two whale-like Transport Ships, the Apothecaries of the "Shadow of Order" looked down over deck after deck.

During the five-week voyage, they had obeyed the Primarch's orders, selecting the most exceptional individuals from the ever-changing masses, extracting their biological tissue, and enriching the biogenetic databanks with their research data.

The Apothecaries had simultaneously tested hundreds upon thousands of drugs and obtained feedback.

They pulled down the control levers in unison, and as Runes flared, a pale-green gas smelling of mint was released across deck after deck.

The crocodile-shaped Mutant, his body covered in dense, swollen fish scales and bony plates, was the first to wake.

The fourteen eyes hanging across his face opened one after another.

He stared around in confusion as broken images flashed through his chaotic mind:

Dim yellow smoke shrouding the shantytown;

A cold operating table, drugs injected into his limbs again and again;

Needles piercing his body, milky-white fluid filling every part of him with strength.

An uneasy hiss shattered the crocodile-shaped Mutant's memories, and the Mutants across the deck woke one by one.

The Mutant pressed up against him had skin over his ears that was badly cracked, like worn-out palm-leaf fans.

He heard the piercing sound of the female Mutant beside him flicking her tongue, swung his fist, and smashed it into the long, eye-covered tongue.

"Get lost!" The crocodile-shaped Mutant shot to his feet. He was at least three heads taller than any Mutant around him.

His huge fist slammed into the two Mutants and sent them flying dozens of meters, crashing into the crowd.

The crocodile-shaped Mutant