The desire to live lay in reproduction, while the core of reproduction was survival.
After more than thirty thousand years of evolution, humanity had become fundamentally different from its ancestors, who could only gaze at the stars from a tiny, broken planet. Yet no matter how bizarre their genes became, high-calorie fried food remained the most eye-catching delicacy on the human table.
From Hive City nobles to the residents of the lower levels, even the Space Marines under the Master of Mankind all enjoyed those crispy little chunks of meat, rich in calories and deliciously textured.
Vulkan had never seen a chicken after landing on Nightfall Star, let alone the giant monster chickens of Serene World that rivaled Dreadnoughts in size.
But that did not mean he was afraid to try one.
For some reason, the moment he saw the blond giant with his own eyes, a sense of peace he had never known surged through Vulkan's heart, as though the man before him were a long-lost family member.
Especially those eyes, which held an indescribable meaning.
After taking a few steps, Vulkan unconsciously arrived before the stall and accepted the Golden Chicken Leg Mordred handed him.
The crisp, fried skin shattered at the first bite. As tender meat juice burst out, it stimulated the barren taste buds of the big black man, who had never eaten anything good in his life.
"Another one!"
"Of course. You can eat as many as you want, as long as you can finish them."
"Rambo, don't even think about stealing a bite. You can't eat anything else today. Go carry over the rest of the chicken. Our guest looks like he has quite an appetite."
Mordred felt no guilt about cutting down his own dog's rations. At Rambo's current size, eating any more might give him high blood lipids and kill him one day.
He still wanted his dog to support him in his old age, after all.
While the dog transported the ingredients, Mordred opened the insulated box beside him and handed Vulkan a prepared Iced Watermelon.
The watermelon's dark green rind pleased the big man, while the coolness it contained, unlike anything on Nightfall Star, delighted him even more.
He snapped it apart with his huge hands and swallowed the rind and flesh whole, savoring that rare refreshing sensation.
"What kind of fruit is this? Why have I never seen it before? And you're not a local, are you?"
"Good eye! I brought this especially for you. If you want more, I've got plenty."
Mordred casually accepted the ingredients. He then wiped the grease from his hand on Rambo's doghead and asked while frying the chicken:
"Speaking of which, how did you tell that I'm not a local?"
Vulkan said nothing. We locals aren't nearly this pale. Besides, my eyes may be a little red, but I'm not blind!
Standing beneath the shadow of the Stormbird, the Lord of Fire pondered briefly.
He pointed at himself, then at Mordred, who was only slightly shorter than him.
"I've never seen any giant in this world besides myself, and you're the first. Besides, I recognize that flying craft. That was not a pleasant experience.
"But I can sense that you bear me no ill will. In fact, I feel an inexplicable closeness toward you."
Vulkan did not voice everything in his heart. Compared with his remarkably formidable physique, giants possessed extremely delicate hearts.
He had not only felt a sense of closeness toward Mordred, but also a very abrupt feeling of shame.
Yes, shame.
Vulkan did not know what kind of person would feel guilty toward a stranger they had met only once.
But he had seen a similar look before, and its owner was called En Bel, who was also his adoptive father.
A conjecture surfaced in Vulkan's mind and grew increasingly intense.
Even so, kindhearted Vulkan did not question Mordred. Instead, he first asked about his missing people.
"So why did you send people to abduct my subjects? The fact that you could appear here without a sound means that you—or the force behind you—can travel through the stars at will.
"Why? Don't tell me you threw them into some kind of hell to play a death game."
The moment he finished speaking, a bead of cold sweat appeared on Mordred's forehead, and he grew visibly uneasy.
Vulkan did not miss the sight.
Then he heard Mordred explain:
"Actually, this is all a misunderstanding. How could I do something like that? Besides, I wasn't the one who captured them. They were taken by a group of villainous pirates. I've already rescued them, and I only learned about your existence from them."
For Mordred, deceiving people was as easy as eating and drinking. He could always find all kinds of excuses to explain himself.
In his eyes, everyone outside his own legion was an NPC in a game. He had already given them food, so why shouldn't he deceive them?
Thanks to his foreknowledge, Mordred had no fondness for the Primarchs or the rest of the galaxy. He thought they were all a bunch of giant babies and idiots who went looking for trouble.
Take the Necrons, the pinnacle of physical technology. They looked unbelievably powerful, but in reality, they were responsible for at least half of the Warp turning into a cesspit.
Yet in the end, the Necrons had simply pretended to be dead, planning to go back to sleep and wait for the Warp to recover naturally before harvesting the rewards.
Vulkan, however, was different. He was a rare clear stream in this cesspit, a genuinely good person.
Mordred suddenly found himself unaccustomed to the despicable act of bullying an honest man.
Seeing that Mordred's expression was off, Vulkan asked another question instead:
"Then why did you only come now? My..."
Mordred was even less able to answer that. He had delayed for so long entirely to control public opinion and package himself as a good person.
Reaching Nightfall Star in two weeks was already the fastest speed possible.
But Vulkan took his silence as a kind of admission, and the big man's mood immediately sank.
"So you appeared now because you intend to compensate me? Father."
"Huh? What compensation? I already told you, it wasn't me—"
"Wait a moment..."
"What did you call me? Who's your dad? I'm warning you, don't curse me! I don't want to sit on some lousy toilet."
Now it was Vulkan's turn to be stunned.
The two big men stared wide-eyed at each other, both realizing that they seemed to have misunderstood something.
Only Rambo paid no attention. Together with his fellow local from Nightfall Star, he stared longingly at the delicious fried chicken bobbing up and down in the oil.
"Boss, I'm hungry again."
"Shut up." ×2
After a brief silence, a hand reached out, and Mordred spoke first:
"Let me formally introduce myself. I'm Mordred Wayne, Lord of Atlas of the Second Legion, and your second brother. I'm not that rotten old bastard Neos. Our biological father is probably on the front lines, hacking away at aliens right now."
Bai Zhi's palm was clasped by another large black hand, which shook it firmly twice.
"Vulcan Vokan. As you can see, I'm an ordinary blacksmith from Nightfall Star. It's just that I don't have a legion or a title as cool as yours, brother."
The two giants looked at each other and smiled.
They simultaneously ignored the misunderstanding that had just occurred, displaying the full warmth of brotherly affection and drawing cheers from the onlookers who had no idea what was happening.
Yet not everyone was excited by this.
A middle-aged man dressed in local Nightfall Star clothing was hiding in a dark corner, staring at the scene with a deeply troubled expression while muttering to himself.
"Damn, I came too late!"
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