I am Rogge Dorn
The time together was always too short. Angron, back with the Legion, began his first expedition to join Horus, who was engaged in a fierce battle with Xenos in the Storm Sector, to spend his two-and-a-half-year internship there.
The Great Crusade was always the Empire's top priority. With Angron's departure, only Mordred and Magnus remained on Terra.
Mordred stayed in Terra because he was just hanging around; after all, Serenity was located on a major transportation route of the Empire, with countless supplies passing through every day, and as long as he kept a small portion, it would be enough for his legion to eat.
Not to mention that Atlas now holds the power of tax collection, and Mordred is the Imperial Warmaster. The Emperor, that bastard, is out partying all the time, so he has no choice but to leave Mordred in Terra to guard the city.
After all, Serenity is under Goff's watchful eye. As the Legion Commander, what's wrong with him not being home? He's just coasting along wherever he is; Terra's bread sustains him!
He clocks in for work every day, lies there, plays games and loafs around, and occasionally runs to the bottom of the Hive City to become a righteous Batman who adheres to the principle of leaving no survivors. He couldn't be more comfortable.
The only thing that annoyed Mordred was that he was too bad at the game and lost every match, but fortunately he had a solution.
Magnus, on the other hand, was particularly eager to go on the Great Crusade to prove himself, but due to the small number of his Thousand Sons, less than three hundred, he had to stay in Terra to rest.
This was only after the Flesh Change was resolved; otherwise, let alone 300 people, every single one of them would have led to the complete annihilation of the Thousand Sons.
In fact, when Magnus returned to the Legion, the Emperor had already planned to eliminate the Thousand Sons who were tormented by Flesh Change, and like the Son of the Emperor, he had already prepared a new batch of seeds.
But who knew that Magnus's extraordinary wisdom would strike and save Thousand Sons, including Ahriman who was on the verge of death.
As for the cost, Magnus considered it merely his right eye, and remarked that there were indeed many kind people in the Warp.
It's just one eye, it's worth the price!
Glancing at Mordred, who was sprawled in front of the Astronomican Gate, being handed water and having his sweat wiped away—doting on a little brat just to win a game— Magnus couldn't understand how his Second Brother had become a War Master.
"Second Brother, you're supposed to be Imperial Warmaster, you should be more mindful of your image. All you do is play games all day, I don't even know what's so fun about them. And who is this child? Could she be your illegitimate daughter?"
"You bastard daughter my ass! You one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn, didn't you see her hair is black? I have blonde hair, how could she be my bastard daughter? I picked her up, her name is Sally."
Hearing Mordred call her name, Sally remained unmoved. Her ten fingers, gripping the Dataslate, danced rapidly. With skills far beyond what the blond giant could match, she rendered the opposing character, "War God Eight Heavens," unable to retaliate, and directly won the game.
Then an extremely embarrassing scene unfolded: Mordred, who had asked someone else to play for her, shamelessly grabbed the Dataslate and started typing frantically:
"You piece of trash, daring to call yourself a war god? I'll make sure you can't even beat me with one hand. Go home and suckle your mother."
"..."
After making his sarcastic remarks, Mordred stared intently at the Dataslate, remaining stunned for a full eight seconds before a line of small text appeared on the dialog box.
"Damn it, don't be so arrogant. I lost this time entirely because of the high latency. But Mordred doesn't care about that. In order to win the game, he not only hired someone to play for him, but also secretly changed the game character's stats. He just doesn't believe he can lose."
After closing the game and completing her daily KPI, Mordred picked up Sally, rubbed her little face, and praised, "Well done! You're truly my dear Robin. Here, have a piece of candy. We've defended the Imperium of Man again today!"
This scene made Magnus's eyelids twitch. Defending the empire? You're clearly just trying to fool a kid into playing games with you. Fooling people is one thing, but giving them a piece of candy is quite another.
The thought that he spends his days either reviewing government affairs or being bossed around by Malcador, and that even his offspring left behind in Holy Terra have been taken in to serve as government servants, makes him feel like he's doing Mordred's work.
Magnus felt extremely uncomfortable, and even his tone became sarcastic:
"If even playing video games can protect the empire, then the Imperium of Man is doomed sooner or later. Second Brother, it's time for you to fulfill your duties Warmaster."
The Arch-Magos calls you over.
After delivering the message, Magnus turned and left. He didn't want to be infected by Mordred's useless virus; he wanted to fight! He wanted to become Warmaster!
But Magic Little Pony didn't know was that while he was mocking Mordred, far away in the depths of the Warp, on the Brass Throne, a giant Khorne was frantically rubbing and typing on Dataslate.
"Damn it, how could I possibly lose? I couldn't possibly lose! It must be my Dataslate that's faulty, that damn lag."
Realizing the problem, the Khorne truly hated the dimensional barrier that blocked his power projection.
As the saying goes, to completely conquer someone, you must possess them entirely, but this Chaos God, born from the thoughts of all living beings, is adept at corrupting life.
But they discovered that Mordred was not susceptible to corruption.
The harder it is to obtain, the more precious it becomes. The Khorne Chaos God Mordred with virtue.
He then summoned a Greater Daemon under his command and gave this Blood God Daemon, named Verden, a task: to oversee Vashtorr and have him build a machine that could connect to the Physical World without any delay.
He has to win!
On the other hand, Mordred was much more carefree, heading towards the Department of Administration with his little follower. He wanted to see what old man Malcador wanted with him.
As the central hub of the empire, the Department of Administration is less a large hall and more like a giant fortress standing beside the Astronomican. Every minute and every second, countless wagons loaded with parchment documents travel back and forth within it, making a huge contribution to the sudden death rate of imperial officials.
Malcador, who single-handedly runs the empire, is an outstanding example, sleeping only two hours a day and spending the rest of his time on missions.
Seeing the gaunt old man in front of him raise his head because of his arrival, Mordred had no interest in respecting the elderly and simply plopped down on Malcador's table.
"Mordred, you've been having a really comfortable time as Warmaster, spending your days either loafing around or slacking off. It's time to give you a little push."
Aren't you the self-proclaimed Imperium's Greatest Tech-Priest? It's perfect that you establish the Assassinorum; the empire needs a sharp dagger for internal use.
I have only one request: the Assassinorum must be able to eliminate all discordant voices, even those of Space Marine.
Such childish remarks left Mordred neither excited nor thrilled. And to the Space Marines, why didn't you mention assassinating the Primarch? He wouldn't take the blame for that.
But the conditions that Malcador then offered made Mordred, who had already turned to leave, sit back down.
"I can give you the Astronomican forging technology, so you won't have to wander around there all day. And I can even make you the Grand Master of the Assassinorum."
Mordred, a fawning smile instantly spreading across his face, confidently assured everyone that he would create the most powerful Most Dominating, ferocious, Most Evil super assassin, not for any other reason than because you are my dearest Uncle Mal.
"No, I disagree! This goes against the Imperial Truth."
"Who? Who's talking behind my back? I'm the Imperial Warmaster, I'm the highest-ranking person in Holy Terra now, get out here right now!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a Tall humanoid figure pushed open the door and stood straight in front of the two of them, like an Ultimate Wall. His strong masculinity struck Mordred, and the arrogant, white-haired giant said loudly:
"I am Roger Dorn!"