The Gradually Unfolding Overture

922. M30

After several days of recuperation, the last Primarch returned to the Empire.

To celebrate this historic moment, as soon as Omega was restored, Mordred immediately took him back to the Holy Terra to keep his good brother/sister Alpharius company.

If it were any other Primarch, Mordred would have given him a good dressing down, but Omega was better off not doing so. He was afraid that if he delayed too long, the guy might remember something unrelated.

As for the genetic contamination, the Emperor is on Holy Terra, and the Blood Reservoir still exist on the Luna.

If even this small problem can't be solved, then the Yellow Skins shouldn't be Emperor at all. He should just abdicate and let Malcador seize power. After all, he's just a sword-wielding Ogryn.

But just when she feared it, Mordred, who was sunbathing on her Pink Titan, turned her head and saw a Dog-men looking down at her.

His eyes revealed three parts speechlessness, three parts mockery, three parts disdain, and the remaining ninety-six parts were all an inescapable aura of servility.

"I am coming!"

..."

Mordred turned his head, without saying a word, and flipped over like a salted fish, revealing his true colors.

Perhaps feeling that his cool entrance was a bit silly, Alpharius, dressed as a black and white pirate dog, or rather, disguised as the pirate dog Casca, jumped down and began to paw at Mordred, who was pretending to be dead.

"You inherently evil Second Brother Mordred, stop playing dead and say something! How did you see through my masterful disguise?"

Mordred remained silent. He wasn't some brain-dead Adeptus Custodes; why waste the sunshine on playing Blood Game with that wretched Alpharius?

The best way to deal with such problem children is to ignore them and they'll behave on their own eventually.

Seeing that Mordred was still as nonchalant as ever, Alpharius, unable to bear the cold treatment any longer, pulled out two gold coins.

Sure enough, Mordred, who was greedy for money, instantly did a 180-degree turn, and even pulled out a recliner from behind his back and set it up for his good buddy:

"Although your disguise is flawless, even your scent is exactly the same as Casca's, to the point that even I, the Great Chieftain of the Atlas Clan, cannot tell the difference, I still see two fatal flaws in you."

"..."

"..."

Seeing the longing in Mordred's eyes, Alpharius sighed helplessly and immediately threw out ten gold dogs.

"I really don't understand why you're so greedy. You're the leader of a legion, and the whole empire knows that Atlas is a bunch of rich bastards. Is it really necessary to be so stingy?"

"Tch! You don't know anything, this is called being thrifty and managing a household well," Mordred said, now in a different form.

"In my hometown, money may not be everything, but you can't do anything without it. Don't Yellow Skins also like to stand on the stage and go crazy, doing slow-motion movements with their left and right hands?"

If you let go of even this one thing you can hold onto, your humanity will slowly crumble, and you'll become a living dead! You might even end up like you, a deformed Ogryn.

Alpharius felt that Mordred was mocking him. "Living dead? Don't think I haven't played games. I've completed the entire 'Ghost of the Empire' trilogy."

As for that so-called homeland, Alpharius, who was good at uncovering secrets, knew that it was none other than Holy Terra from Era 3. Malcador had told him about it.

"Don't interrupt, just tell me where my disguise went wrong."

He's not Yellow Skins after all. If the Emperor were here, he would definitely be sabotaging Mordred, yelling at him for going to link the fire, saying his whole family went to link the fire.

"First of all, Casca is one of my old subordinates. Like the other seven Canid Eight, he is scattered across various legions."

Breath of Storms— Canid-Niz in Shadowmoon Space Wolves, Arid Earth — Bane in Iron Warriors, Savage Lightning— Rehgar in Death Guard, Brilliant Pure Ice— Seven in Thousand Sons.

Bloodhound Guts in Son of the Emperor, Death Wish Vera, and my Shadow Hunter Casca were sent to the Ultramarines.

"Why did Guilliman send two people? Shouldn't it be the World Eaters and the White Scars?"

Alpha looked at Mordred. Based on the whereabouts of these dog-man commanders, Alpha deduced a certain pattern. Combining this with the information on these legions, there shouldn't be any Limit Warriors, or even Shadowmoon Wolves.

Instead of directly answering Alpharius's questions, Mordred brought up some completely unrelated topics:

"Brother, Serenity is indeed in the rainy season right now, and today's sunny weather is very rare. You can see Dog-men curled up in a ball and sleeping in the streets and alleys, as well as Serenity people taking a nap on top of Dog-men."

It's quite interesting to think that back when Atlas was penniless, that amazing STC module ensured we never lacked starch.

This tiny thing attracted a large number of refugees to Atlas, solved the food problem, promoted the first year plan, and even made the people of the entire sector develop a love for pasta, to the point that they would feel dizzy after lunch.

It has been a full century since I returned to the empire. To outsiders, the Serenity 50 Worlds may seem like a bunch of nouveau riche, but I have fulfilled my promise.

"So, are you bragging to me about your achievements?" Alpharius asked, turning his head as he took the orange juice offered to him.

"No, I just wanted to say that I don't like lying. After all, if you're going to lie, you have to lie big, so you can't arouse their suspicion beforehand. Therefore, I'm going to tell you some little secrets."

Actually, my initial plan was to send the Dog-men to the World Eaters, and I even considered sending Rambo to the Dark Angels Casca to the Imperial Fists."

"Then why isn't it White Scars?" After saying that, Alpharius saw Mordred looking at him like he was an idiot, which made him a little insecure.

"Nonsense, even you think White Scars is unreliable, which means that 99.9% of people think so. Don't insult my amazing wisdom with your nonsense. The Khan sees it better than anyone else."

As for why they didn't go to the Imperial Fists and the World Eaters, isn't that obvious? Dorn is just a stinking rock; I even suspect that even if the galaxy were to perish, there would still be a mouth chanting "I am Rogal Dorn."

This is absolutely terrifying.

"Angron, are you really that clueless, or are you just pretending? I don't believe your kid hasn't infiltrated the World Eaters. They're natural counters to spies. Even a piece of trash like you couldn't get in. Why should I send my underling to suffer?"

Alpharius thought about it and realized that among the 20 legions, the World Eaters and the Space Wolves were the forbidden territory of Hydra.

The Dark Angels are even more hellish in difficulty. He still doesn't understand why there are so many small groups within a single legion. Does that bastard Zhuang Sen even know how to distinguish them?

As for Atlas, it's not a matter of understanding or not; he's even more Hydra- like than Hydra, and even I've been caught off guard by him...

"Don't ask anymore. I know what you're going to say as soon as you open your mouth. No matter what, the Ultramarines' potential for mass production is terrifying, which is why I sent two Dog-men to lead them there."

No matter what, Lady Yuton cannot be harmed; she's someone who could be my mother!

As a chosen worker, Alpharius is the only fourth person besides Mordred, the Emperor, Malcador to know the details of the grand plan, and even then, he only knows the general outline.

His visit was personally instructed by Malcador, who wanted to inquire about Mordred's next steps.

Now that this inherently evil Second Brother Mordred has chosen his target, he can simply go back and report the truth. But Alpharius is still very curious about how he was exposed.

After all, you have to love what you do. The young agent's repeated failures made him start to question his life.

"Tell me quickly, I understand that Casca shouldn't be in Serenity, but what's the other reason?"

Alpharius's behavior is like a restaurant owner going to the kitchen of a restaurant across the street and asking the competitor why their food is so delicious, and even asking for the recipe in person.

Logically, Mordred would never reveal this little secret, but he believed that even if he did, Alpharius, or the entire Hydra Legion, would never be able to learn it.

"Temperament!"

"Huh? What kind of temperament? Explain yourself clearly!"

Alpharius was really anxious; he desperately wanted to know this little secret, he'd been dreaming about it all along.

Mordred returned to the Empire 100 years ago, but this problem has plagued him for 90 years, making it so that he can't even sleep soundly.

Mordred didn't hold back and immediately summoned Tom through the Mind Network. To make it even more obvious, he also called over Arcee, the Legion Commander the Spartan Legion, and his good apprentice Rambo.

Along with himself, he was neatly arranged in front of Alpharius in the order of large, medium, small, and extra-large cups.

Upon seeing these four Atlas -Atlas Primarch, Spartan Warriors, Space Marine, and Dog-men — Alpharius finally realized, "Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Ninety years! A full ninety years! Just because of this? I disagree! I disagree!"

Is it because I'm not an idiot that I can't get in?

Forget it, let's destroy it!