Debut as an Imperium Idol, Yellow Skins!

While Mordred and the Yellow Skins are equally despicable, there are still differences between them.

Because of the need to install Personality Excretion Device, the underground palace, although it looks large, is packed full. People come to take turns guarding it every day and recharge it with new Emperor Spirit.

This device is enormous, not a portable version for Luojia at all. It emphasizes powerful performance and is full of Atlas's minimalist pragmatism, at the cost of a somewhat poor working environment.

The smoke and dust produced by the burning Chaos Energy Furnace, the ozone generated by the ionization of air by Psychic Power lightning, and the rumbling noise of various components all combined to make it no different from a foundry.

But don't think this is a betrayal of their father. Although the Primarch often scolds and even beats the Yellow Skins, they love their father, even Mordred.

Mordred even worried that Yellow Skins 12345 might be bored, so he got him an internet connection so he could watch movies, play games, and chat with all sorts of weirdos on the Divine Seal Network.

Aside from his buttocks being unable to move an inch, Yellow Skins 12345's life is quite comfortable, and now he also has Isha giving him essential oil massages every day.

It's not that we're afraid this thing is idle, it's that we're afraid it will cause trouble. If the Emperor has even the slightest problem, it will be a major event in the empire, even more troublesome than Xenos invasion.

Mortarion noticed this information in a very short time, and then he realized that his father had actually regained his senses and was just pretending.

He wasn't sure how much he had recovered, but at least he could communicate normally and wasn't as unable to take care of himself as he had appeared.

[Father, isn't this a bit inappropriate?] Mortarion asked telepathically.

After a few seconds, the Emperor did not reply, as if the voices that had appeared in his mind earlier were all hallucinations, but Mortarion was convinced that he had not misheard.

"Little Mo, why do you seem a little agitated? Your face is so pale."

Mordred's voice rang in his ears, and meeting his brother's unreadable gaze, Mortarion shamefully cowered. "It's nothing, it's just that seeing Father like this makes me sad. My skin has always been so fair."

"Yes, indeed, it's a bit creepy that Old Man Huang has become like this. I couldn't stand sitting on that Golden Toilet for 10,000 years, and I couldn't even stand it for a day."

This is 10,000 times more Kiya than having Pear of Anguish stuffed inside your ass while jumping into the Pure Land of Bliss, and being ravaged by 100,000 terrifying, lewd, muscular men wearing very little clothing at the same time!

But don't worry, as long as you keep clearing his blockages and combine it with the nourishment of Isha's power, the Yellow Skins's condition will definitely get better and better.

Oi, 12345, how are you feeling right now?

"Not bad. When are you going to hold my wedding? I can't wait! I want to be the Holy Father of the Aeldari!"

I want to build the Pantheon.

Upon hearing this, the entire underground palace was filled with a joyful atmosphere. Even the on-duty Custodes couldn't help but shed tears, secretly marveling that His Majesty had become somewhat humane, even though he was paralyzed and half-paralyzed, he still thought of eroticism.

That's great! Having ideas proves that the Emperor has regained a sliver of humanity. At least he's no longer the idiot who spouts holy swear words, speaks incoherently, and acts like a machine. He even laughed out loud when Isha was teased.

Regardless of what happened before, ever since she became one of us, Isha has become increasingly laid-back and has come to terms with reality.

To be honest, Nurgle didn't restrict Isha's freedom. If she wanted, she could really leave Nurgle's Domain, but the problem was that she would be captured as soon as she went out.

Upon closer examination, it becomes clear that there is no place for Isha in this world. Even if Mordred were to send Isha back to Aeldari now, Aeldari wouldn't dare to take her. She's a complete ticking time bomb; whoever touches her will die.

Rather than eating and drinking in the Nurgle and attracting lecherous Aeldari race, it's better to stay in the Imperial Palace. At least the Emperor is strong enough, and with the dark sun hanging there, no one dares to move.

"Did you hear that? The Yellow Skins can even tell jokes now. This is a victory for our treatment plan. Once I've used up all the impurities in his body, I'll give him another wave of faith. With this ebb and flow, the Yellow Skins will become more and more human-like."

"Why don't you go over and beat him up while he's still not thinking straight? He'll forget about it soon anyway, and it'll be a good way to vent your anger."

"No, no, the fault lies with me. I have failed my father!" Mortarion refused, not wanting to be held accountable later.

Not only Mordred, but even Guilliman joined in the commotion, saying, "If you don't trust Second Brother, don't you trust me? Yellow Skins 12345 is one of our own."

"That's right, we're all brothers. I've never treated you like my own children. Don't call me father, just call me Brother Huang."

"Haha, did you hear that? Don't make your Brother Huang laugh. Since you don't want to have some fun, then hurry up and come over here. We can take a picture together."

"You bastard," Barbarus's nonsense. "You want to die, fine, but you also want to trick me. You're really Ambition."

Was that taking a picture? That was taking my life! You may be blind, but I'm not. This will be irrefutable evidence from now on.

But the arm can't twist the thigh. Mortarion, who had shrunk to a white-haired little boy, was directly lifted up by the two big guys and dragged to the Golden Throne.

Looking at the grotesque skeleton in front of him, with its crooked mouth and distorted eyes, Mordred had a sudden inspiration, perhaps because of his previous experience designing and modeling Mortarion. He suggested that they take this opportunity to create a portrait of Old Man Huang.

"As the saying goes, 'A holy dynasty governs the world through filial piety'—"

"Second Brother, why is it that filial piety governs the world, and loyalty and righteousness are the principles?"

"Tsk~ I wasn't talking about our empire, why are you meddling in this and that? No offense, Little Mo, but I felt you were acting a bit strange earlier."

Your face is pale, and you're sweating too. Are you scared?

"How Could? I, Mortarion, okay?"

"Then stop talking nonsense and take this." Mordred pulled a bucket of living silicone from behind her, one for each person, even Isha next to her got one.

"Look at Old Man Huang, he looks so awful now. If the Imperial Palace were to open to the public as a tourist attraction one day, and visitors saw His Majesty looking like this, their experience would be terrible. So let's beautify him."

I happen to have a few picture books here for reference. These were painted by Horus himself. If the Yellow Skins were alive, he would be deeply Moved.

Don't think I'm harming the Yellow Skins. Look at its miserable state now, it can't even eat. If we properly create matching living organs for it, we'll have done our filial duty.

Mortarion took the limited edition hardcover art book of the Rome's She-Wolf and saw that the date was m30.999. In particular, the author's signature at the bottom, written in a flamboyant style, was none other than Horus Lupercal.

Looking at the portraits in the picture book, each more beautiful and different than the others, but ultimately not exactly serious literature, Mortarion couldn't imagine what the Emperor looked like in Horus's eyes.

Although I knew that doing this might have unpleasant consequences, I could only reluctantly start playing in the mud.

The material Mordred used was not traditional silicone, but an active biological component, a repair material generally used in battlefield first aid. It can be perfectly absorbed by the human body, and after shaping, it has a skin-like texture, and can even replicate sweat glands one-to-one.

As for the results of character customization, that goes without saying. The Primarch may seem like Embryonic Killer, but they have the foundation. If they want, they can become masters in any field of art, even Russ.

Since he was not Primarch, the Emperor's body was a pure human being, so the four of them quickly completed their masterpiece.

One by one, living organs were inserted, and biological tendons, blood vessels, and lymphatic systems were laid out. Next came the secondary shaping of the living skin, and the Emperor was even given an elegant and tasteful robe, and even black stockings.

The previously unsettling skeleton had undergone a dramatic transformation. A head of smooth black hair cascaded down its shoulders, and its physique was as robust as a female leopard yet elegant. Combined with its healthy-looking wheat-colored skin, it was simply too pleasing to the eye.

And how could the Golden Laurel Wreath, a symbol of the Emperor, be missing? Mordred handcrafted one out of Adamantium and also made matching necklaces, earrings, pendants, and even anklets.

After these changes, the Yellow Skins became even more pleasing to the eye, and even the Adeptus Custodes did not reprimand the Primarchs for their reckless behavior; instead, they applauded and praised them.

Even Yellow Skins 12345 was quite satisfied, saying, "I want to share the joy with the people. I don't want to be the Holy Father anymore; I want to be the Holy Mother."

Upon hearing this, Mortarion shuddered instantly, secretly lamenting that his father had gone so far as to disregard all shame; they were doomed.

While everyone else applauded, Mortarion felt a chill run down his spine, as if the giant figurine was laughing at him.

"Second Brother, I think we should take care of the important matters first. I'm scared!"

"Didn't you just say you were very brave?"

But I--

"Alright, I don't know what you're panicking about. I'll clear the Angron memories synced to the nail, rewind time to before the Great Heresy, reboot it, put it into the Ultimate Cat's body, and then use two 5-inch...

Using the No. 5 battery as the starting current -- that's fine.

"Guilliman, come closer. Angron's memories aren't complete. If anything unexpected happens, you know what will happen."

"Don't worry!" The blue guy, reminded, took off his shirt and started warming up on the spot, stretching his elbows to be in the best condition to welcome his good brother's awakening.

As Mordred manipulated it, the black and white calico cat trembled as if electrocuted, its form began to change, and finally two anthropomorphic paws grew out, and its eyes opened under the stimulation of two AA batteries.

"Ha~ Khorne, take me away quickly! I absolutely cannot let Slaanesh catch me! I--? Where am I?"

Placed at the Emperor's feet, Hajilong bristled, staring at the four heads crowding in front of him.

"Mortarion, Guilliman, Second Brother, Pointy-ears Xenos, and... what's that smell? It's a bit sour and a bit smelly."

Looking up at the pair of black-stockinged jade feet beside him, Angron saw the Emperor, who had transformed into a living being, and instantly transformed into his Spinosaurus form in fright. "Ribbit—this must be Father's mighty Kiya!"

In an instant, a Psychic Plague centered on Angron broke out.