There Is a Traitor Among Us

Good times are always fleeting, and in these final moments before dawn, the Great Crusade remains the top priority.

However, before leaving, Sanguinius suggested that we take a group photo!

The proposal was unanimously approved by all the Primarchs, and everyone immediately put on their best clothes; even Fulgrim took the time to get a manicure.

To show off his sophistication, Mordred specially brought his Pink Titan to serve as the background, and soon a brand new Family Photo was taken.

Seeing that all the Primarchs were present, Space Marine from various Legions also gathered around to take photos, and even the Eldar technician took the opportunity to take a picture with the Emperor.

Such behavior would be considered Aeldari traitor by any Aeldari Craftworld or the Commorragh Dark Eldar, but the Aeldari Beans of Atlas don't care about that.

It's good to take shelter under a big tree. What does the Aeldari have to do with us? The Aeldari Empire has long since perished, and we have long been a part of the empire.

Taking this opportunity, Mordred also presented the gifts he had prepared beforehand.

What magical potion can make people young again? What refrigerator can keep meat paste fresh for ten thousand years without it rotting? What 13-in-1 super-powerful shampoo? What super cool motorcycle can teleport you to Terra? Even the Primarch Dreadnought, along with their manufacturing technology, were packaged and given to Corvus Corax.

Although these gifts were rather bizarre, the Primarchs didn't say anything, seeing Mordred's kind eyes. Only Ferrus stared at the black collar, questioning his existence.

"Second Brother, this collar of yours is indeed quite good. It can generate a shield and also act as a small life support device, but why does it feel so useless to me?"

How so?

Ferrus opened the collar, put it around his neck in front of Mord, and pointed to the novel little gadget, saying:

"Look, although I don't know what your design philosophy was, its shield can only protect my head at best. So why don't I wear a helmet?"

Ferrus is a good person in every way, and the Iron Hands is one of the Empire's top heavy armored units, but he's just not very bright.

"Tenth Brother, trust Second Brother. Wearing this collar will guarantee you won't suffer any losses. Besides, helmets are life-saving artifacts on other people, but on Primarchs like us with the highest prestige, they're just Combat Power suppressors."

Are you sure?

"I'm not sure, but that's what Numerology says."

Ferrus was starting to have doubts about life. He had indeed heard of this Numerology before; it was a pseudoscience devised by his brother Mortarion and shouldn't be taken seriously.

"Then what's the use of this life support device? I saw in your instruction manual that it can maintain a certain level of mobility after my head is moved, and can even take over other people's bodies using the internal bio-cables."

So here's the question: why was my head chopped off? Even if my head was chopped off, couldn't I just reconnect it to my body?

"Yeah, yeah, Mordred, I feel like none of your inventions are reliable at all. Look, my hair is falling out even faster after using your shampoo."

Seeing a group of people chattering incessantly in front of him, completely unable to grasp the true essence of his great invention, Mordred roared:

"Enough! Horus, you only have a few hairs, and you're asking me if I lose hair? You might as well shave your head bald. As for you, Ferrus, if you don't like it, give it back to me."

Ferrus was definitely not going to return it. Although the invention was questionable, it was still a brother's gesture, not to mention that it was made of pure Radiant Gold. It could even be used as jewelry, and it would match his newly acquired weapon perfectly.

Mordred regretted letting these people visit his home; they brought two boxes of milk when they arrived, and left eating and taking things with them.

"I've wanted to say this before, Ferrus. Although we haven't met many times, my little brother Guts is with your Iron Hands. I'll be keeping an eye on you. Don't do anything that would make me betray my own family!"

"Second Brother, how could you say that about me? My relationship with Fulgrim is purely platonic."

How did you know what I was going to ask?

Ferrus remained silent, his face instantly turning bright red, causing Mordred to sigh repeatedly, feeling only the misfortune of his family.

As the Primarchs and their Legion departed, the once bustling Serenity instantly fell silent. But as night fell, three large figures huddled together in the Hive Laboratory beneath the Hive City.

Inside the pitch-black room, the super-powered Spirit Exorcism Dead Zone hummed, compressing the anti- Psychic Power field that could cover the entire Hive City to its limit, completely isolating the room from any malicious spying.

Looking at his father and brother, who had suddenly become so passionate for some reason, Horus, being the most normal of them all, was the first to ask, "Second Brother, shall we turn on the lights first?"

"Tsk, fine, I just thought it would create a more atmospheric feel."

As the lights came on, the three of them exchanged a glance, nodded firmly, picked up their bowls of authentic Terra Chicken Noodles and started eating, each even adding a braised egg!

"Alright, since the three of us are together, I'll be frank. I think there's a traitor among us."

"Traitor?"

Horus instinctively looked at the Emperor, Mordred looked at Horus, while the Emperor himself kept watch with his left eye on guard and his right eye on his two offspring.

"Me?" ×2

"That's right!" Now that he was ready to be frank, the Emperor didn't hide anything, only concealing a small part of the unspeakable details, and told him all the information he knew.

However, this was not the end of the story. After the Emperor said that Horus might betray him, Mordred might also betray him, Horus immediately thought of the prophecy he had dreamed of.

"Father, is it possible that it wasn't us who betrayed us, but you?"

I've wanted to say this for a long time: if we're talking about sheer destructive power against the empire, all of us brothers combined can't compare to you, Father!

"What?! My Sagittarius, are you out of your mind? Who am I? I am the Master of Mankind! How could I possibly betray the Empire?"

Horus believed that it was absolutely impossible for him to betray the empire, even if he captured the Emperor and made him his wife.

This empire was not only established by the Emperor and Malcador, but also the culmination of the efforts of all Primarch.

Horus had read Mordred's plan. Although he still didn't know where the massive amount of supplies had gone, the Great Crusade was about to be victorious. As long as they played it safe, they could govern the empire well in less than a thousand years.

Good days are just around the corner. It's like joining the Qing army in 1949. Who would be the fool to do that at such a crucial moment? It's impossible, both logically and emotionally.

The Emperor, who knew of Horus's prophecy, was equally puzzled. How could he possibly kill his own child? Give me back the sword that pierced Rogal Dorn! Impossible, absolutely impossible!

The two who had encountered a problem with the accounts looked at Mordred, but Mordred wasn't thinking about that at the moment; instead, she was thinking about Guilliman, who had been possessed by Rambo earlier.

Two warnings from the future, one prophecy from the present, combined with all the information in his mind, and with the most significant changes in Perturabo and Luojia, Mordred's mind was spinning wildly.

But ultimately, they all pointed to the same image.

In the picture, he and Morgan are huddled under a small blanket, shivering, while a large, red, one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn is huddled at the foot of the bed, frantically pawing at their feet trying to get their attention.

This isn't some kind of genius with an innate intellectual disability; it's a cognitive distortion. Magnus, such a large and conspicuous object, how could it have infiltrated Atlas for so long without being discovered?

Touching the still-warm red scarf against her chest, a daring plan formed in Mordred's mind:

"Stop guessing. There are no wolves here, or rather, we are all wolves. The numerical gap is insurmountable; a young wolf can never defeat a lion."

But I have a plan that can restore the empire from darkness to light and turn danger into safety.

"Then tell me!"

I haven't decided yet.