Such an outrageously bold statement instantly drew over a crowd of onlookers.
Atlas, who was hiding in the corner, frantically took pictures. Even knowing he might be settled with later, he absolutely refused to give up this little secret.
Even the Adeptus Custodes on duty at the entrance tilted their heads slightly, wavering between protecting His Majesty's reputation and following their innate impulses. Only the dogs were the most humanlike of all—sleeping when it was time to sleep and slacking off when it was time to slack off.
However, what was even more ridiculous was that after hearing Fulgrim's outrageous statement, the first reaction of that dog-and-donkey Emperor wasn't to explain himself, but to play dead. He only said, "Your mother is dead."
Compared with the Emperor's inhumanity, Mordred was no better. He had no patience to spare, and while wearing Huang Xiaomei's disguise, he launched into a furious tirade:
"Third Brother, what the hell are you thinking? I seriously suspect your brain got caught in a door when you were born. Are those two eyeballs of yours just for ventilation? I'm your Second Brother, for fuck's sake.
"Old Man Huang, say something!"
After a bout of flesh twisting, Mordred transformed back into his true form. But that still couldn't convince Fulgrim. Who knew what was actually hidden beneath that skin?
Especially for someone as concerned with other people's opinions as him, combined with Mordred's bewitching abilities that were no less impressive than those of the Yellow Skins, the only eight-year-old Phoenix's mind was thrown into chaos.
He recalled how, after he arrived in Serenity, Mordred had shown him inexplicable concern, along with that meticulous guidance that had practically been spoon-fed to him.
Compared to the Emperor's coldness, the contrast in Mordred was even more intense. It was as if he knew Fulgrim inside and out, completely filling the role of a loving mother. It was difficult for Fulgrim not to entertain other thoughts.
Even after the Emperor vouched for Mordred's identity, those thoughts didn't disappear. If anything, they left Fulgrim with an extra hint of secret delight.
But more than half a year of tutelage had already taught the Phoenix how to hide his feelings. He didn't argue. Instead, he left the laboratory with great ease.
As for whether Mordred's explanation just now would succeed, no one had any idea.
As the doors closed once more, Mordred lost his desire to argue. Under the Emperor's puzzled gaze, he walked to the experimental bench, rummaged around, and took out two pink mushrooms, tossing one to the Emperor as well.
Soon, two flames lit up. After taking a deep drag from the mushroom, Mordred said:
"I think I finally understand why you're such a social recluse. With abilities like that, everyone around you is a brainless fan. Harkon, you really have it rough."
"Ah, I'm used to it. These mushrooms are pretty good. Send me some later."
"Sure. Then what about my Spartan Project? Are you going to seal it away or destroy it?"
After a long silence, the Emperor finally nodded, indicating that the Spartan Project could proceed—but there were conditions. Only the Second Legion could use it. The other Legions would easily run into trouble. These enhanced humans were unstable, essentially an alternative form of Thunder Warriors.
"One more thing. How did you learn Biochemical Alchemy?"
"What? Wasn't it you who had Malcador send me that Early Education Machine?
"I was going to ask you the same thing. Why did you set the guidance program to be a parrot? You made it just like an Abominable Intelligence. Aren't you afraid of provoking Tzeentch?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the Emperor's huge face turned as black as Vulkan's. He thought that those few useless fools really were worthless. They had all wanted to steal his dog. Fortunately, he had never intended to keep his promise. Otherwise, he would have suffered a massive loss.
After all, as far as the Emperor was concerned, if he had borrowed a loan through his own abilities, why should he repay it? Not only would he refuse to pay it back, he also intended to set up another scheme and dupe those Four Useless Ones again in the future.
A few minutes later, with Mordred watching, the Emperor chopped his beloved Learning Machine into pieces with a single sword stroke. As for the little Blue Parrot, the Emperor grabbed it and slapped it into his own body.
The instant the Blue Parrot vanished, Mordred seemed to hear a cackle by his ear, loudly proclaiming, "Everything is proceeding according to plan!" It just had a slightly stubborn tone to it.
According to the Emperor, he had already passed the most dangerous stage of infancy and could continue developing by eating some Warp snacks. However, to prevent what had happened before from recurring, he still needed a balanced diet.
As for how to balance it, the Emperor didn't say. He simply pulled out a Star God Fragment glowing with green fluorescence.
It was called a Star God Fragment, but it was at most a tiny chip. Mordred swallowed it in one bite without even tasting it. The only difference was that his lightning had become greener, looking just like Fel Energy.
That's right. To make the names of his moves sound cooler, Mordred had imitated his idol, the world-ending Titan Sargeras, and given that energy the name Fel Energy.
They said Stand-ins always attracted one another. After discovering that Mordred possessed impressive scientific abilities, the Emperor's desire to conduct research flared up, and he began his experiments. The test subjects were Mordred and his Atlas.
Sure enough, after a series of tests, the Emperor discovered that after Mordred, the primarch, had evolved, Atlas, as his offspring, had also undergone all sorts of strange changes.
Simply put, traces of Fel Energy had also been detected in Atlas's Space Marines. Some of the stronger ones could even use that tiny amount of Fel Energy to solidify their souls, knead them into green, sugar-like entities, and restore their vitality.
The two of them were extremely excited by this change. After all, they were both relics of the 3K era, and they immediately thought of a fantasy class—the Warlock.
Fanned on by Mordred, the Emperor couldn't hold back. He began randomly drawing lucky victims from the Warp. From minor nobodies to the wild Copper Bull from Khorne's domain, all of them were quietly dragged over for testing.
If future Inquisitors learned that the Emperor they had devoted their lives to serving secretly played around with Daemons, they would surely be stunned, gouge out their own eyes, and shout that it wasn't real.
Yet that was exactly what happened. Let alone having dealings with Chaos, the Emperor didn't care at all as long as it benefited the Great Crusade. Besides, he had Mordred beside him, happily fanning the flames without concern for the consequences.
Looking at the Yellow-skinned Demon that the Emperor had frightened into total paralysis, leaving it trembling in a corner and resembling a Mutated Pikachu, Mordred went over and beat it up.
"Little thing, you're pretty ugly! Do you like my big iron fists?"
"Slap. Talk!"
"Despicable human, let go of me!"
The Daemon's voice was filled with terror. It covered its right eye and shrank backward, but a chain kept it from escaping. Like a yo-yo, it was yanked back again.
"Bang!"
Mordred didn't dare use too much force, but even so, the palm infused with Emerald Chaos Energy slapped the little Daemon into blissful agony. It desperately tried to escape this hellish prison.
The Yellow-skinned Demon soon couldn't take it anymore. In Mordred's view, creatures like Daemons had no sense of pain. To subdue one, you had to be more evil and more ruthless than it was. Otherwise, you would only be devoured by the Daemon in return.
Seeing that the Daemon was about to be beaten to death, the Emperor signaled Mordred to stop and begin the next step.
Mordred held an unremarkable Bolter Pistol in his hand. Amid the Daemon's terrified screams, he cleanly shoved it into the creature's body.
However, at that moment, the dying Daemon wasn't absorbed by Mordred. Instead, guided by the Fel Energy, it fused into the pistol.
Through contact, Mordred sensed a frightened, uneasy soul inside the pistol, which greatly satisfied him. He turned the muzzle toward a target and fired.
A miraculous scene unfolded. Despite there being no magazine inserted, a dusky yellow bolt of lightning shot from the muzzle and scorched a small, shallow crater into the target.
The sight made Mordred burst into laughter. The dark clouds that had always hung over his heart finally dispersed. He could go out and have some fun.
"Old Man Huang, I have a bold idea."
Before you continue