Father, I Really Am Your Son!

"The wind blows across the fields, the wheat blossoms are fragrant, the vast grasslands nurture our parents."

The sky is blue, white clouds drift by, and clear river water flows gently.

Great Serenity is my hometown--

Mordred hummed a folk tune from his hometown while fiddling with the microphone. If he felt agitated, he could go outside the Imperial Palace to bask in the sun and kill a few Vermin to relieve his boredom. He lived a rather comfortable life.

As the saying goes, "To repel external enemies, one must first secure internal stability." The three brothers had a clear division of labor: one led the charge in killing people, one managed logistics, and one handled official matters. With the brothers working together, their strength was unbreakable. In just one month, they brought initial stability to Holy Terra.

Don't think it's inefficient. Getting Holy Terra back in operation in just one month is already quite impressive. And that's only because there are so many Ultramarines, and each of them is a political clerk who can perfectly replace the Terra officials who were cut off.

Destruction is always harder than repair. If the killing is done without any burial, then the three brothers' campaign to purge the court of corrupt officials will be another Macarius Expedition.

Moreover, Terra is such a cesspool that even Guilliman couldn't figure out how the Empire worked. It's like two bugs working together; neither can be touched, only taken over.

The Ultramarines became government Servitor, and the Atlas weren't idle either, but their job wasn't to work; it was to reorganize.

Staring at Angell, clad in black and red armor, a cool trench coat, and bearing the Character Mark "A" on his shoulder, the Ferros, then Chapter Master of the Iron Hands, was dumbfounded. He thought, "Wait a minute, didn't you tell me you were going to steal the Primarch when you left? How did you turn around and look like this?"

"Elder, why are you wearing... wearing the armor of the Dark Angels?"

"Hey, what Dark Angels? The First Legion is black with a touch of green, that's Atlas's color scheme, so sophisticated! Come on, I even brought you a gift this time, quickly put this trench coat on."

Ferros instinctively took the trench coat and put it on without thinking. And you know what? It actually fit Ferros quite well.

"Elder, this really isn't from the Dark Angels. I was almost fooled. I thought you had sided with the Dark Angels!"

Tell me quickly, how's the plan going? Did you manage to get your hands on the Primarch?

Following the Chapter Master to the bridge, Angell smoothly removed his helmet, instantly stunning Ferros: "Elder, what's that on your head?"

"Commander, that's Atlas! Our father always had that hairstyle—it's high-class, it's very sophisticated!"

"Atlas's afro? Good, this afro is really nice. It seems the plan has succeeded. Elder, you've really suffered."

Angell waved his hand, indicating that he was not aggrieved. He said that his mission had gone as planned, and he had not only found the Primarch, but his father was also quite satisfied with them. He had come back to bring his brothers back to their ancestral home.

"Ah, right! No, no." Ferros's cyborg brain malfunctioned for a moment, and he quickly performed a logic self-check. Only after confirming that he hadn't encountered any Electronic Scrap Code did he realize what was happening.

"What do you mean by recognizing our ancestors? Our Gene-Father is Ferrus. I was given this name by you, Elder, to commemorate our Gene-Father, Ferrus. He wasn't our biological father; at most, he was our adoptive father."

"Godfather isn't right either, he's our Second Uncle! Elder, you're joking with me again, you must be joking with me, right?"

When their eyes met, Ferros saw no joke in Angell's single eye, only relief.

"Actually, I've been Atlas member for a long time."

"No! You are not Atlas, you are the Iron Hands, you are the elder I respect most, you brought me into the Chapter, and you made me a Sons of Medusa."

Ferros was a little overwhelmed. As a young man who was only 400 years old, Angell was not only his Second Company Captain, but also his mentor.

Four hundred years is a long time, but also a short time. As an orphan born out of tribal warfare, Ferros had a difficult background.

Orphaned at a young age, he was raised and nurtured by Angell, who also elected Second Company as an Iron Father and eventually made him the Chapter Master.

In the Iron Hands everyone is crazy and believes in the survival of the fittest, the Second Company is the most human-like. They don't use cold numbers to calculate life. Even though they have all sorts of quirks, they have taught Ferros a lot, the most important of which is tact.

To end the chaos and to reunite the Iron Hands, they did many things, some good and some bad, but no matter when or where, he knew he was not alone.

"But now you want it? Have you forgotten that you said I was your proudest disciple?"

"Don't say that, Ferros. You're not a little kid who needs me to support you anymore. You are the Sons of Medusa, the Iron Father, and the Chapter Master of the Iron Hands."

Angell could have left without saying goodbye, but he didn't want to. As one of the original 712 Atlas and Tom's adjutant, he knew many things that others didn't.

Mordred loved to plan, and even in Death and Dao Dissipation, she would leave behind multiple backup plans: Rambo, Tom, the Hive mixed with Atlas's Gene-Seed, the Raven Guard with its vast technology, one secret warehouse after another, and the Abomination containing Icarus's true form.

One secret leads to another, one little secret is intertwined with another, and so does Atlas, as a progenitor of the Primarch.

After leaving the Webway, in order to avoid putting all his eggs in one basket, Tom ordered his men to disperse among the various legions. After taking control of half of the Iron Hands, he used the Split the Legions to create a separate operation, leaving Angell as an inside man.

They lay dormant, remained silent, and developed slowly—all in preparation for the return of the Gene-Lord, even if the timeframe was ten thousand years, even if they didn't even know who their Gene-Lord was.

The Eighth Company was Atlas's most unpredictable unit. They were neither as versatile as the Black Knights nor as steady as the Fourth Company or Seventh Company. Even their specialty, secret operations, were not as precise as the Ninth Company's.

But it was precisely this group of unreliable people who became Atlas's last seed.

Sunlight streamed through the porthole, illuminating Angell's silver hair. Looking at the strong young man he had raised, he couldn't help but comfort him:

"We waited for him for ten thousand years, and he slept for ten thousand years for us. Now that he has returned, I must answer the call and bring the Legion back."

Besides, we're not going to our deaths, we're just rejoining the Legion. Moreover, Father said that once the Legion's framework is established, he will focus on building the Divine Seal Spire, and then we can even play games together online.

"Cheer up, don't embarrass yourself. Look what I brought you!"

Angell pulled a warhammer out from behind his back; who knows how he managed to get it out of his rear end, but that's how he did it.

"This is Furnace Breaker. Where did you steal it from?"

With a quick arm around Ferros's shoulder, Angell declared that one shouldn't speak carelessly. "I didn't steal this hammer. Fulgrim lost it during the Beast Wars, and it was later acquired by the Daemon Primarch Perturabo, before being retrieved by Blood Ravens."

Now that the legion has been reorganized, it's only natural that I've taken this thing back.

"And I'll give you a heads-up: the legions will be reorganized soon. Multiple legions will be deployed together to launch the Indomitable Expedition, and Atlas will definitely be in charge of logistics and transportation."

The era of Chapter is over. We no longer need to fight to the death for a few resources, working for those ruthless Mechanicus. We will recreate the glory of the Legions during the Great Crusade.

My father has appointed me as the tenth Captain and the Fabricator-General. I didn't mind you calling me the Second Company Captain before, but what should you call me now?

As the capable man who ended the millennia-long division of the Iron Hands, Ferros instantly understood Angell's meaning:

"Godfather?"

"Hey, you really did pay off with my training, no wonder I took a liking to you at first sight. Now hurry up and open up the warehouse. If you don't invest now, it'll be too late later."

Chapter Master isn't necessarily the best fighter, but at least they can do the math. It might seem like the Iron Hands is at a disadvantage, with half of its members being Atlas, but if you think about it the other way around, more than half of Atlas's members are still Iron Hands!

"Go for it! You have to go for it! Take whatever you like, go all in!"

Such scenes were not limited to the Iron Hands; with the issuance of a rallying order, all the Chapter that received the news rushed to Holy Terra.

Needless to say, Dark Angels and Ultramarines have the Primarch, after all. Zhuang Sen and Guilliman know how great it is after Atlas is rebuilt; the more they invest, the greater the return.

While Mordred may be unreliable, his extravagant spending spree is undeniably popular with all his brothers.

Even a transport battalion commander knows the importance of logistics; he can only micromanage the frontline troops, not ruin their lifeline.

Interestingly, as the nominal guardians of Terra, the Imperial Fists was the first to receive the news, and they were the ones who pretended to be ignorant and let the Expeditionary Force into the Solar System, making them the hidden MVPs.

Since the Black Templars, as a Scion Chapter, had Atlas, then the mother organization should certainly have one too. However, when they came to acknowledge their kinship, they discovered that the entire Imperial Fists had not a single Atlas; everyone was with the Black Templars.

It might not sound like much, but upon closer inspection, something is quite amiss. With the Primarchs now back, nothing is more important than rebuilding the Legion.

With the rallying order issued, each First Founding sent people to Holy Terra. Although it was not explicitly stated, everyone knew that Atlas was definitely among the First Founding.

So the question arises: why does the Imperial Fists, the original founding organization, lack Atlas, while its Scion Chapter Black Templars has a large number of Atlas?

This embarrassed Gregor, the then-commander of the Imperial Fists Chapter Master, to the point that he frequently visited Mordred, which annoyed Mordred.

"Your Highness, I've brought everyone from the Second Company. Take a look, Atlas is definitely among them! We are the true inheritors of the Imperial Fists!"

--

Are you sure?

I'm sure!

Due to Atlas's extraordinary secrecy, it's impossible to tell from appearances alone. In fact, when an Atlas is extremely convinced that he is the Imperial Fists, even Mordred might be able to mistake him for an Atlas.

Mordred had no choice; since she was already here, she had to proceed with the test.

The good news is that these large lemons are indeed not pure, but the bad news is that they are far too impure.

Of the 100 people, 72 are Imperial Fists, 24 are Iron Warriors, and the remaining four are all A-Fa. What's more, these four A-Fa each have their own ruthless skills.

One is tainted by Chaos, one is Fealty, one is neither entirely innocent nor entirely innocent, and the last one is actually Fallen Angels in disguise.

But do you think that's all?

Keep in mind that the Empire nominally only has one million Space Marine and 1,000 Chapter, but this is as unreliable as the Empire's paper count of only one million worlds; who knows how many are actually hidden.

Overnight, as if it were all planned, Mordred, who had just stepped out of the workshop, was surrounded by a dazzling group of Space Marine.

Tall or short, fat or thin, black or white, they were all strange and unheard of.

Before Mordred could react, he was cornered against the wall, and then he heard the group shouting at him:

"Father! Your son has come to find you."