The Small Head Controls the Big Head, the Butt Replaces the Brain

Half an hour later, after listening to Mordred's explanation, Angron resigned himself to his fate, his tentacles drooping weakly, like a drowning octopus.

An octopus that can drown is unusual, and Primarch that can turn into a nail is even more unusual.

They exchanged a glance and, seeing that the nail's biological activity was rapidly decreasing, Mordred kicked the Emperor, signaling him to quickly say something comforting.

Perhaps the intense work had dulled his brain, or perhaps the signal was too weak to receive commands from his master; Mordred was completely unaware of what he was doing.

The Golden Giant exuded arrogance, his body radiating boundless Psychic Power, and his deep, resonant voice, as if enhanced by special effects, spoke:

"Number Twelve, you good-for-nothing, stop your whining. We've spent a lot of energy and countless resources to save you."

The War Hounds will arrive in three days. Hurry up and bring your men to participate in the Great Distance... Why are you attacking me?

"That's what I'm doing! How can you even speak like a human being?" Mordred, having just kicked the Emperor in the groin, extended his claws and began scratching the Emperor's hair, then pointed at the increasingly weakened Angron and spat:

"You bastard, if you can't speak properly, then don't speak at all. I thought you had a brain. If you had used even a fraction of the intelligence you would use for scientific research, you wouldn't be behaving like this."

"Angron, don't listen to this bastard's nonsense. He was furious when he saw you were about to die. All he has is that mouth of his; you are definitely his proudest offspring."

"Really?" Angron desperately wanted the Emperor's confirmation. He raised his tentacle and stared longingly at the Golden Giant, even though it had no eyes and was just a mess of tentacles. But everyone could feel the unparalleled desire in it.

Just as the Emperor was about to say that Horus was his only source of pride, he suddenly felt a tightness in his anus. He turned his head and saw a long, ferocious tail waving up and down in front of his crotch.

"Yes, you are all my wings, and my proudest offspring!" Of course, Horus is undoubtedly the best one.

The Emperor didn't say the second half of his sentence. He just didn't know how to take care of children, not that he was really brainless. The thought of having 21 offspring to raise made him inexplicably irritable.

From the Emperor's perspective, one can't really blame him for his poor parenting skills. After all, his mother died long ago, his father was killed by his uncle, and he killed his own uncle to avenge his father.

Furthermore, since the era in which the Yellow Skins was born was still one of primitive tribal societies, the Emperor had never experienced normal family relationships.

It's a complete copy of my own growth experience; it shows a lack of respect for both myself and others.

The increasingly agitated Golden Giant had nowhere to vent his frustration, only wishing that the external brain of the Malcador was gone. Desperate to do something, he saw the crimson magical energy still surging within Mordred's body, so he used a Psychic Teleportation and immediately slipped away.

The Golden Giant had already decided who to get his glue applied to; he could use that dog head to test just how hard his fist really was.

"Tch, he's hopeless. No wonder he raised Horus to be so arrogant and repressed. Tsundere has become obsolete, you bastard!"

Mordred glanced at Angron, who was jumping around wildly in the jar because of the Emperor's praise, and felt another wave of tension.

"Stop shaking like that, get out here and pick a body for me. You look like a flying headgear now, you'll be mistaken for Xenos and killed the moment you go out. Hurry up."

Who would want to be a monster if they could live like a human? Hearing that he could still go out and see people, Angron twisted his tentacles and jumped out of the jar, crashing to the ground with a thud.

"Second Brother, please help me up, I can't get up because I don't have hands."

Seeing this, Mordred sighed again, saying, "Your true form is just a nail now. You have no hands or feet, can't you use tentacles? These tentacles can cut Adamantium into pieces, and you're using Living Metal."

Under Mordred's verbal guidance and personal demonstration, Angron quickly learned to use his tentacles instead of limbs. His figure darted around the entire laboratory, and at first glance, one might mistake him for a gibberish cat.

Fortunately, Mordred had anticipated this situation; his main job was to create machines that the Angron's Nails could control.

Seeing that the driver was calm, he simply lifted the white cloth in front of him.

Looking at the powerful body that was firmly locked in place by the force field, a whole size smaller than his own, but exactly the same as his original body, especially that flowing red hair, Angron was incredibly excited. He finally didn't have to be bald anymore:

"Second Brother, could this be..."

"That's right, these three will be your physical mounts. Do you like them?"

He liked it, he liked it so much! Angron dreamed of having a healthy body. He would be willing to enjoy the Emperor's favor even if it meant not having to endure the torment and seduction from the Chaos God.

But as he looked around, Angron suddenly realized a crucial problem.

"But brother, why does this body still have a head? How am I supposed to get up there? And what's the meaning of that cat and woman?"

"Good question!" Mordred gave Angron an approving look, indicating that this was the ingenuity of his design concept.

"Brother, I'm not like that old-fashioned Emperor. You know, everything has its weaknesses, even the Primarch."

Life is actually very fragile. A pierced heart will kill you, and so will a severed head. Especially the head—even Ferrus would die after a single decapitation!

Angron didn't know why his Second Brother used Ferrus as an example, but that didn't stop him from thinking that what he said made a lot of sense.

"So instead of preserving weaknesses, it's better to break through and build anew. Become a mindless being, transcending the human form, and transforming into a plug-in nail—that's the true Ultimate Being!"

Your current form is a nail, containing your essence and original blood. The head on your body is purely decorative, at best a camera and a speaker.

Mordred deactivated the Stasis Field, activated the X-ray, and gestured for Angron to come closer to take a look. Upon closer inspection, he did indeed discover something unusual.

"Second Brother, why is its butt so perky? You wouldn't happen to be—"

"Haha, brother, you're really smart, just as you thought."

Mordred patted the Primarch's firm, shapely buttocks and began to introduce his astonishing wisdom.

"Look, the main organs of humans are in the upper body, so if an enemy wants to kill you, they will definitely hit your torso. This makes your buttocks the safest position; no one will suspect that you are thinking with your buttocks."

Angron was deeply shocked by this. He couldn't understand how Mordred could have come up with such a plan, but he was certain that his brother was out of his mind.

"What's the meaning behind the little girl and the cat next to them?"

"You mean this?" Mordred scratched his head, indicating that it was made from scraps of your original body.

"Actually, I originally wanted to create a Number Two unit, but I ran out of materials to make the Primarch, so I could only create a smaller body. However, this one doesn't require a rear-end control; the cockpit is inside."

But don't underestimate this skinny little girl; her physical exertion is equivalent to 0.5 Guilliman's, so it's better to be prepared.

As for this Jiba cat, that's something special. Guess what? It was made from a scrap of your original body!

"It can't be -"

"That's right, Angron, you're a genius! You guessed Kiya again!"