As the undisputed bloodthirsty spearhead of the Great Crusade, Space Marines could be considered nearly perfect biological weapons. So here was the question: just how strong were the Tin Can Kids?
The answer was yes—but only to a limited extent!
Don't be fooled by Space Marines' reputation as the Emperor's Death Angels, each one a hulking, fearsome brute. They weren't invincible. It all depended on who they were compared to.
How did that saying go? If you were willing to risk your life, you could drag even a demigod from his horse. No matter how strong Space Marines were, they hadn't reached the level of those mystical powerhouses from fantasy novels. They were still carbon-based life-forms.
In this messed-up galaxy where offense far exceeded defense, there was no need to mention the monsters and freaks encountered during the Great Crusade. Even a Tin Can could be sent straight to the afterlife by a single shot from an infantry melta weapon.
Even so, modified soldiers like Space Marines were more than sufficient. They could ensure the strength of the Emperor's Great Crusade.
Space Marines weren't naturally powerful. They had acquired that strength through nineteen Gene-Modding Surgeries. Combined with countless battles and the combat experience accumulated through killing on the battlefield, they could ultimately fight a hundred enemies alone and create miracles on the field of war.
But casualties were inevitable in war. To replenish their numbers and allow the Primarchs to command their forces as easily as moving their own arms, the Emperor had employed a highly crafty method: Gene-Seed.
This miraculous little thing was the foundation of a legion. Only with it could bioengineered men turn decay into something miraculous and obtain the power of their Gene-Father.
As for why the legions expanded through this method, Mordred could guess the reason even without anyone spelling it out. After all, the Emperor would never allow a new human power to lord over the Imperium.
Space Marines, strengthened through surgery and Gene-Seed, wouldn't give birth to little Tin Cans even if they mated and reproduced with ordinary humans. They had to undergo postnatal modification.
But now the Arch-Magos wanted Mordred to steal Gene-Seed from other legions. Wasn't that ridiculous?
"I don't understand. Is there really no other way?"
This time, the Arch-Magos didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took out two Gene-Seeds and let Mordred examine them himself. One belonged to the Second Legion, while the other belonged to the Sons of Horus.
He had been back with the legion for quite some time, but this was still Mordred's first time observing Gene-Seed up close. With one glance, he saw what the problem was.
Compared with Guilliman's Great-Grandson, the Second Legion's Gene-Seed looked exactly like a Xenos Placenta. Several fleshy tentacles grew wildly across it, as though it possessed Self-Awareness.
Perhaps it had sensed the existence of its Supreme Motherbody. A single eye suddenly emerged beneath the fleshy tentacles and gazed at him pitifully.
"Fuck!"
"Things have come to this, so don't blame me for being ruthless. Arch-Magos, how many Gene-Seeds from other legions does Atlas have in storage?"
"Three hundred and twenty-seven. Three hundred and twenty-six of them belong to the Thirteenth Legion, while one belongs to the Son of the Emperor. And that one is the one I just dug up."
Mordred resigned himself to his fate. The Second Legion was already full of secrets, so one more problem wouldn't make much difference. Rather than tormenting himself, he might as well disgust everyone else.
He even suspected that the Emperor had scattered the Second Legion earlier precisely because he knew Atlas's true nature. With this restriction in place, as long as Mordred still cared about the legion, he would never be able to break away from the Imperium.
"Brilliant! You really calculated everything down to the last detail. You even guessed that I wanted to go independent? No wonder you didn't require me to join the Great Crusade. No wonder you gave me so much authority.
"Harkon, you bastard!"
Fine, if they wanted to form an alliance, then they would form an alliance. At least they could increase their own legion's numbers first. Otherwise, if their forces kept shrinking with every battle, Atlas would eventually exist in name only.
"Kragg, pass on my orders. Make the following deployments:"
"Select suitable recruits for training, and use these three hundred-plus Gene-Seeds to provide the legion with fresh blood. Remember to keep things clean. As for the rest, I'll find a way."
"As you command, my lord!"
Soon, Mordred issued a new order to the outside world. While retaining responsibility for logistical allocation, the Second Legion would gradually send personnel to participate in the progress of the Great Crusade and cooperate with its brother legions in battle.
Meanwhile, after thinking for a long time, Mordred finally gathered all the descendants he could summon and told them the legion's ultimate secret.
But contrary to expectations, after learning the secret, the Atlases didn't panic. Instead, they discussed in an extraordinarily bizarre manner whose Gene-Seed would be the most awesome to fuse with.
Some said it was the Thousand Sons', because it would let them learn to use miraculous magic.
Others said it was the Space Wolves', since that would grant them Beast Intuition. Perhaps they could even become cool werewolves and frolic across the grasslands with the doggies. He had wanted to taste dog food for ages.
Some even wondered whether, after fusing with another legion's Gene-Seed, they could go to those legions and engage in better Free Looting. If your own people took your own people's belongings, how could that be called theft?
"Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river. We Atlases are the greatest of all! I'm going to steal all your treasures and seize all your fathers' love, so you'll have no choice but to secretly wipe away your tears behind closed doors!!
"Hehehe."
There was no end to the bizarre theories. Paired with the gloomy hall, it was as if a horde of demons were dancing wildly. Only the Ninth Company kept repeating, "I am Alpharius. We are all Alpharius!" earning everyone's scorn.
Looking at these incredibly optimistic descendants, Mordred's state of mind gradually began to change. A faint, almost imperceptible smile rose at the corners of his mouth.
It was weak, but it no longer held the falseness of the past.
Perhaps it was time for him to awaken from those memories.
Click—A steady succession of camera flashes lit up the hall, interrupting the giant's thoughts. Just as Mordred was about to see which unlucky son had been so blind as to provoke him, he discovered that he had already been surrounded.
"Father, your smile is so beautiful! Hehe."
The sudden outrageous remark left Mordred stunned for a full second. He realized that his charm ability seemed to have grown even stronger. But what followed immediately was a furious outburst laced with embarrassment. He reached out and grabbed the suicidal Rebellious son by the scruff:
"Brian, what the hell are you talking about? You piece of trash! You don't learn anything good, but you copy that useless Horus and turn into a man-lover? I'm your father, damn it!!"
"Look at Goff. Why isn't he acting like some pervert? How are you supposed to serve as my Black Guard? Do I have to guard against you every day now?"
The scolded Brian didn't care in the slightest. His head was spinning, and he had completely lost himself. He only wanted to get a little closer—especially to that brilliant orange-scented golden hair. He really wanted to touch it!
What was even more frightening was that Brian was far from the only one who had fallen under the charm. The moment Goff Myne heard the Primarch call his name, he put away his camera, charged forward, and knocked the Captain of the First Company aside, taking his place.
"Father, are you saying that I'm your pride?"
"..."
Fortunately, there were still normal people here. The Arch-Magos's Holographic Projection appeared beside the throne and reported to Mordred:
"This is bad, my lord. Wait, why haven't you turned on the lights? Never mind, that's not important.
"Fulgrim, the Third Primarch, has sent a login request. He's brought the Third Legion with him. We've been exposed!"
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