An Independent Gensokyo

A mother once said that the prettier a woman was, the better she was at lying.

Mordred didn't understand how Zhang Wuji's still-charming mother had managed to say that, but he thought it made sense—even if he didn't have a mother.

But not having a mother didn't mean he had no father. In terms of looks, Neos, who had left behind countless legends, was certainly second to none. That meant this Golden Giant was even better at sweet-talking people.

"Father, your armor is so cool. I want one too." Tom's voice drew an echo from a Captain. He liked this dark, restrained style of armor too.

"Don't even think about it. This is a gift His Majesty gave Father. Just wear your Terminator armor!"

The Khan wasn't wrong. Even though the Second Legion was generally larger in stature, armor capable of fitting a Primarch was practically comparable to a Dreadnought. With Tom's small frame, it was like putting a pony in charge of pulling a war chariot.

But Mordred's reply was not what The Khan had expected.

"If you like it, I'll make one for you too. But we'll have to wait until I get back and take this armor apart first."

The two of them didn't understand why Father wanted to destroy such a treasure. Before they could speak, Mordred gestured for them to keep quiet and follow him to the bridge.

"Rambo, take these things to the storeroom and give them to Arch-Magos Kragg for research."

Rambo gave a slight nod, then instinctively glanced at the collar around his neck. A flicker of understanding passed through his seemingly foolish eyes.

[You said my cooking was delicious, but you won't even take a bite! You'll even deceive a dog? Bah!]

As a good disciple and close brother whom he had raised from a young age, Rambo was deeply trusted by Mordred. He had dragged his boss away in tactical retreats more than once. Now, he was the head of law enforcement in Serene World—a military hound possessing truly astonishing wisdom.

There couldn't be two suns in the sky, nor two masters for a dog. Rambo never accepted charity from others. Since his boss had sent him away, he must have been the one at fault.

"Understood, boss! I guarantee I'll complete the mission!"

As Rambo ran toward the storeroom, the other three turned and walked toward the bridge. When the doors opened, several legion leaders were already seated. Even Arch-Magos Kragg had rushed over from the laboratory.

"Arch-Magos, weren't you in the storeroom...?"

"Shut up. If you say another word, I'll throw you into the bar to work as a Bunny Girl. This is all your fault, you bastard. You chased it for ten hours and still couldn't tell it was a Primarch? Go get me a glass of orange juice, then gather around. I have something to say."

Tom didn't even get a chance to speak. Mordred's expression suddenly darkened. No one had ever seen Father this furious before; his face was so gloomy it looked like water might drip from it. He downed a huge bucket of orange juice with pulp before finally calming down.

"Fuck, that bastard actually wanted to spy on me. Serves you right for being abandoned by everyone!

"If you wanted to spy on me, you could've at least done a less shoddy job! Did you really take me for an Ogryn? Are those holes in your mouth there just for ventilation? Would it kill you to say something?

"Tom, where was I? Right, Tom, get your ass to the bar and work as a Bunny Girl later. Don't come back until you've done three full months."

Hearing that Father was punishing him this way, the Eighth Company Captain shuddered. It was even more agonizing than being killed. The thought of being mocked by everyone in the future made the burly man so ashamed that he looked ready to cry.

The other Captains were terrified as well. Their usual joking and laughter had vanished, and all of them wore expressions that said, "Better that someone else dies than me." Seeing this only made Mordred angrier.

"Yes, Father."

"Louder! I can't hear you!"

"Yes, Father! I promise I'll be a proper Bunny Girl!"

The Eighth Company Captain's roar echoed throughout the bridge. Everyone looked at Tom sympathetically, but they soon had no time to pity him, because Mordred had already turned his gaze toward the others.

"This is a lesson. I know all of you served in other legions before this, and some of you even rose into the upper ranks. But now you are my sons. Atlas can have only one voice, and that is mine!

"I don't care what bad habits you had before you came here. It's been two and a half years. You should all know what I like by now.

"I admit that all of you are capable warriors, but I'd rather you be my good children!

"Tom sent people to Catachan to play the Blood Game. That can quickly select qualified recruits, but is it really a good thing? The Khan, you tell me."

"Huh? Me?"

The First Legion Captain, who had been singled out, had no idea how to answer. He had gone to study in the First Legion, and in his eyes, this was perfectly normal. At worst, Tom's method had a slightly higher death rate—but every other legion did the same thing.

"Father, I don't think there's anything wrong with what Tom did. Even in the First Legion, the exemplar of all legions, this conforms to everyone's understanding. After all, only hardship can temper a resilient warrior."

Seeing the others—even Arch-Magos Kragg—nodding in agreement, Mordred finally realized where the problem lay. He was still that out-of-place exile who had lost his home.

Serene World's purity had blinded him. No matter how harsh the conditions of survival were, everything beyond the law of the jungle could still be described as simple.

"Sigh..."

That sigh filled everyone with worry. The Captains of Atlas didn't understand why Father had sighed. It was as though one sentence from The Khan had erected a thick, invisible wall between the Primarch and them.

"Father, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine. I'm just a little homesick."

"Home? Father, don't worry. We'll be back in Serenity soon. Was it The Khan who made you angry? Why not throw him into the bar too, so he can keep Tom company?"

Mordred looked at Goff, who was trying to liven up the atmosphere, and shook his head. Only he knew that perhaps he would never be able to return for the rest of his life.

Through their blood connection, all the Second Legion warriors aboard the Abomination Exemplar stopped what they were doing and looked up toward the bridge. They felt their Primarch's sorrow.

Atlas began gathering of its own accord, heading toward the bridge where the Primarch was. Even though they didn't know why Father was so sad, as his sons, they had to go and share his burden.

The Khan felt that he was finished. As more and more people gathered, countless gazes seemed ready to tear him apart alive, yet he still didn't know exactly what he had said wrong.

He dared swear to Holy Terra that he had truly never intended to make Father sad. Not a single word he had said was false. Fortunately, the First Legion Captain's mouth was not merely for show, and he knew to ask:

"Father, did I say something wrong?"

"No, you didn't. None of you did. The problem is mine. I failed to change my perspective and am still looking at this world through the lens of the past. But I don't think I'm wrong either."

That left everyone bewildered, but their confused expressions amused Mordred so much that he burst into laughter, growing louder and louder.

"I'm not wrong. This world is wrong. This cesspit twisted all of you into something else. The world shouldn't be like this, and neither should you.

"Since Gensokyo has already become a fantasy that can never be touched, then I'll make those memories a reality anyway. Fuck you, heaven! No one can change me.

"I can't keep lying to myself.

"Children, the Second Legion needs to change. I will lead you down a truly glorious path! We will become the light of humanity!"

Having finished talking himself into it, Mordred raised both hands, ready to receive his sons' cheers. But he waited and waited, and no one praised him. Puzzled, he followed his sons' gazes and turned around.

"Hm? A lowly Daemon."