Your Eyes Shone Like Stars

As everyone knows, the reason why legendary investigators are legendary is because they live a long time, knowing when to play it safe and when to make a decisive retreat.

No matter how you look at it, the unknown is always the most terrifying, and now the Iron Warriors have encountered this situation.

Although they are known for their stubbornness, the Iron Warriors are not stupid and would not do something as foolish as knowingly walking into a trap. Most importantly, they are not blind.

They might not know what the Necron's World Engine is, but they know Atlas. Given Atlas's greedy and opportunistic nature—he'd even steal a couple of cartons of milk from someone else's house after a meal—how could he possibly leave his flagship lying around unattended?

"What do you think, Danteok?" Frix asked.

"I'm standing here watching, do you want me to come closer? But as those memories resurface, it seems I've seen this scene before, it seems like it was in—"

"The Rangdan Campaign?"

"That's right, the Rangdan Campaign! Do you remember that Battle Moon? Atlas purified it by banishing Battle Moon into the Warp, but that time it wasn't as memorable as this one."

Everyone present was a superhuman, and their furtive conversation couldn't be hidden from anyone. That's when the difference in their abilities became apparent.

Some Legion veterans seemed to be deep in thought, while the Primarch Iron Warriors, led by Honsou, had no idea what to do, but they couldn't ask questions yet and could only pretend to be busy and knowledgeable.

Then, Honsou asked an extremely stupid question, "Mother, you Invincible Under Heaven, why don't we board the ship and seize it? That would be a good opportunity to show Atlas some power, and that despicable Mordred would definitely be begging you on his knees."

"You know this is a trap, yet you still want me to fall into it. And what right do you have to talk about my brother? Are you deliberately picking a fight?"

Without any hesitation, Perturabo slapped Honsou across the face, the force of which barely knocked off his helmet, failing to replicate the legendary move of the Dark Angels Nemiel.

"I'm innocent, Mother! I just—"

"What are you?" Perturabo glanced at the Warsmith he had just personally promoted and suddenly realized that he might have been staying with Tzeentch for too long, and he had become a little hesitant and apprehensive.

But in the presence of her offspring, even if not her own son, Perturabo is always right. She is the symbol of invincibility, the Lord of Steel, and needs no explanation.

"Actually, I'm not afraid of this thing at all, but the losses are pointless. Use your brain, why should we go alone?"

"Iron Within, Iron Without" is more than just a slogan. How many times do I have to tell you? Aim and fire! Blow this pathetic Xenos to smithereens!

Then I dug out the Abomination, and specifically my Abomination, bit by bit.

"But Mother, our observation and aiming systems have been corrupted by that excessive energy. The Void Shield Array is completely unable to resist it. This is a Psychic Plague originating from flesh and blood, and the Iron Blood has no portholes."

"Then get your ass to the Macro Cannon's firing port and conduct a visual inspection. And you two Rebellious son, you're coming with him too."

Although they had some reservations about the Primarch, he was still one of their own Primarchs, so they had to give him some face. Frix and Danteok grabbed Honsou and headed towards the launch platform.

After leaving the bridge, the two Old Ones threw Honsou to the ground, showing no brotherly affection whatsoever, only mockery and disdain.

"Honsou, you bastard! You tried to flatter me but failed miserably. You deserve it. Now nobody's protecting you. You dare to bare your teeth again?"

If you ask me, you should just join us as soon as possible. When we return to the Empire and meet the Great Commander, as long as we have food to eat, you'll definitely get a share of the soup too."

"Exactly! Once we return to the Empire, we're going to throw a huge party. Whether you can attend or not will be up to you."

If you make the wrong choice, we have plenty of ways and means to deal with you, and your Second Uncle will bring you endless Kiya!

Frix and Danteok, those two, one played the good cop and the other the bad cop, but they didn't say a single nice word, perfectly displaying the smugness of petty people who had gotten their way.

The truth is that these two were not only smug and successful, but also quite powerful. After all, they had been fighting alongside Atlas during the Great Crusade, Mordred treated them like his own sons.

Atlas had everything they needed; in terms of physical modification alone, they were on par with the Four Heavenly Kings. And after 10,000 years, they had long since become true Daemon Prince.

Want to resist? Absolutely not. Those two combined could kick the Adeptus Custodes around like a football. To deal with them, we'd need at least a company of Grey Knights.

Honsou wasn't stupid; he knew he wouldn't gain any advantage, but his stubborn, unyielding nature wouldn't allow him to show weakness. He retorted, "You bunch of traitors! If you like Atlas so much, why did you become Iron Warriors?"

"Why? Everyone can criticize us, but you have no right to. You've only been with Iron Warriors for a few years!"

You bastard!

"Shut up! I'm not a bastard, I'm Iron Warriors!"

Seeing that this guy was getting carried away, Frix stopped talking and turned to walk towards the launch bay. But when he was halfway there, Danteok whispered to him, "You're not a true Iron Warriors, and you've never experienced that glorious expedition, but you just happened to be there at the right time."

Why don't you think about this: why are we Iron Warriors still able to recruit when all the Chaos Legions are stagnant? And why are you new recruits being ostracized?"

"Because you harbored ill intentions, and were disloyal to the Primarch! You even stopped pretending altogether, the fact that Mother did not execute you is the greatest kindness of all."

Looking at Honsou behind him, whose face was resolute and loyal, yet who had a head of Little White, Danteok felt utterly exhausted, but finally spoke the truth, "Because you are the Sons of Dorn."

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Honsou suddenly attacked, tackling Danteok to the ground and smashing his iron fist into his head. "You bastard! How dare you insult me with such Most Evil language! You are the Sons of Dorn, your whole family are Sons of Dorn! The rock is broken, but the steel endures!"

Orks didn't bother arguing with the young man. Before his two punches could even break his face, his Daemon form appeared. He grabbed Honsou's wrist and lifted him up, launching a fierce attack on his side, which wasn't protected by the armor. With one punch, he smashed Honso's kidney into pieces, holding it between his waist like a figurine.

Honsou was not to be outdone. Despite being in excruciating pain, he continued to hurl insults at Danteok, calling him Dorn.

But this had absolutely no effect. The more Honsou cursed, the happier the two bastards became. They couldn't hold back at all when they thought about what would happen in the future.

Even as they entered the launch platform, Honsou hadn't stopped yelling. Everyone had heard his Roared along the way, and his shit-dog Dorn voice echoed throughout the entire cabin.

But while they were having fun, they still had business to attend to. True to their reputation as Tzeentch men blessed by Tzeentch, the two pulled out two combat potions and plunged them into Honsou's neck— Atlas imports, no less.

As the two combat potions were injected, Honsou's face instantly turned green. After absorbing a large amount of life essence, his kidneys healed instantly. The only price he paid was that he would occasionally let out a silly laugh.

But none of that matters. What matters is that with the observation and aiming equipment fixed at the Macro Cannon's firing port, the Iron Blood has completed its coordinate positioning and is just waiting for Perturabo's order to unleash a barrage of fire.

In a corner where no one could see him, Perturabo secretly sneaked into a Macro Cannon firing port, sticking his big butt out and peering out from inside the Gun Barrel.

As for why he peeked, it was because the great Lord Perturabo couldn't lose face. He couldn't be Khan the Khan, who was talked about his whole life and became the laughingstock of the empire just because he said, "This must be my father's power."

Fortunately, Imperial technology is all about being big, bulky, and heavy. Armor is stacked as thick as it can be, ships are built as big as they can be, and so are the Gun Barrel. There was no Abstract Maneuver like Lord Perturabo getting stuck inside the Gun Barrel.

With the Primarch's superhuman vision, Perturabo finally saw the monstrous target clearly. No matter how realistic the image was, it couldn't compare to the shock of seeing it with his own eyes.

It's absolutely disgusting! Countless fleshy tentacles sprouted from the steel. Even though the Necron didn't have a single piece of flesh on its body, these fleshy tissues proliferated like cancer cells. The law of conservation of matter was no longer in effect. It's just not scientific at all.

Dying Memories were attacking him. Perturabo recalled the cataclysmic event that had wiped his memory, when Mordred had become an infinitely multiplying planet of flesh and blood, exactly like the scene before him now.

But what Perturabo didn't know was that Mordred hadn't gone out of control this time, but was just undergoing an iterative upgrade. All Atlas had been recalled, except for the Fourth Company, which remained on the Abomination for special reasons.

The Abomination has been fully activated and can be seen as a super-giant Atlas Boy. The Chaos Energy Furnace placed in the Imperial Palace is perfectly fine; it was these few Necron who messed things up.

If you zoom out, you'll find that there are no traces of humans around the entire world of Tama, and not a single person in the entire galaxy.

Meanwhile, on the edge of the galaxy, in the borderlands already within the Sol Sector, a group of the "Sixth Elder" who had been lying in wait in the asteroid circumpolar region had been lying in wait for a long time, and the leader of the group was indeed the "Sixth Elder "Roboute Guilliman.

"Father, do you think we can manage to steal that World Engine this time?"

"Don't worry, my Second Brother Invincible Under Heaven and possesses extraordinary wisdom. As soon as that World Engine malfunctions, we'll move in instantly, snatch this treasure back to Mars, and we'll all share the spoils. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"Then why should everyone share the spoils, and we're the ones who have to do this chore?"

Glancing at Ragnar, the youngest Wolf Lord, Russ, who had only returned to the Legion a few years prior, couldn't help but sigh. The Legion had indeed declined; everyone was just guarding their own little patch of land.

As for reprimanding his offspring Russ, he wouldn't do that. After all, he only looks savage; he's not the real barbarian like Zhuang Sen. He wouldn't do something like punching his offspring in the head. So it's all Guilliman's fault.

Guilliman used the Codex Astartes to dismantle all the Legions, and then Chapter but didn't support them, making them like brothers who were not close, and they had to support themselves.

"It's not a chore, but a credit that's already been fed to us. The Space Wolves have been silent for millennia, and we need a victory to let everyone know we're back."

The Necron whose World Engine were crippled were neither too big nor too small; their skulls were just the right size to add a touch of glory to our cause.

As for the rest, would my Second Brother let me suffer a loss? Look at how he got his Ironclad Terminator Armor —a full 800 sets! This isn't some paper-thin Indomitable Armor."

Perhaps sensing the awkward atmosphere, Russ pulled his offspring aside and whispered, "Your Second Uncle and I have agreed that if we can preserve this Xenos creation to the greatest extent possible, he will give me an Abyss-class Battleship."

"An Abyss-class? Really, Father!"

"No, there are two! And one of them is a planetary-modified ship."

You don't know the cost of firewood and rice until you're in charge of the household. Atlas received all sorts of subsidies and offered various preferential policies, aiming to restore each legion to the legion standards of the Great Crusade era.

They even take care of recruit training. As long as you're willing to send recruits to Atlas, you won't have to provide any resources. Even if you don't let the recruits study abroad, it doesn't matter. Power Armor, Bolter, and a standard amount of supplies and ammunition will be delivered directly.

It can be said that everyone has armor to wear and ammunition to fire. In addition, every 50 people are given a set of Indomitus Terminator Armor, every 100 people are given a Centurion, and every 200 people are given an Atlas- exclusive Tactical Dreadnought. Each Chapter is given Titan per person, and two Knights are given as a buy-one-get-one-free deal. They even wholesale Cobra-class Cruiser.

For infantry, that Tactical Dreadnought was a real gem; you could get in without missing an arm or a leg, and you could even play games inside and show cartoons via projector.

As for the Titan, although it's the smallest Dire Wolf Titan, Dire Wolf is still Titan. Some Chapter don't even have Titan, let alone the two Crusader Knights that come with it.

For the navy, the Cobra-class Cruiser, though it may look small, is still a large vessel at 1.8 kilometers long.

Moreover, there are no middlemen taking a cut. Atlas isn't some unscrupulous Mechanicus. In fact, if you don't want one, you can save up your slots and trade three Cobras for one Lunar-class Cruiser, but that requires waiting in line.

For a large, First Founding, these things might not seem like much, but for some smaller Chapter, they are like relief supplies from the imperial court, and the entire Chapter depends on these supplies to survive.

However, even something as good as Atlas isn't perfect. It has more than enough basic weapons and ammunition, and its small ships can be built quickly enough, but this only applies to the Lunar-class Cruiser.

No matter how you look at it, even if they unified part of the Forge World and the Adeptus Mechanicus began to cooperate again, and even provided Abo Sister to increase production capacity, the physics still applies. The sheer size of the giant ships means they can't be built very quickly.

Shipyards in the major Forge World have been booked up for 100 years into the future, and even the Gloriana-class Battleship are not invincible. If such a behemoth is shot down, the blow to morale will be devastating.

Therefore, Atlas's principle was to first solve the problem of having enough food, to ensure that the soldiers were well-fed. As for whether the food was good or not, that could be dealt with later, at least to avoid being killed or eliminated due to various special circumstances.

Once they find themselves in trouble, the small Chapter cannot afford to make any mistakes. If they cannot recover, the outcome will either be disappearance or cancellation of their unit number.

Moreover, throughout history and across the world, there have always been more logistics personnel than combat personnel. To undertake the logistics of expeditions, Atlas must possess a sufficient number of armed cargo ships, and this part of the production capacity is absolutely non-negotiable.

So when Ragnar learned that the Legion would have two Abyss-class Battleship, one of which would be an extremely rare planetary-modified ship, his last remaining complaint vanished.

Especially that planetary conversion ship. Anyone who has ever been a commander knows how important that thing is. Even though the Blood Angels next door has split up their legion, they can still bring in a huge amount of foreign exchange from the rental fee of that one planetary conversion ship, and they've even managed to swindle a bunch of Mechanicus into their own hands.

"Father, how much longer do we have to wait?"

"Look at you, getting impatient again! Although we are father and son, we must act according to our positions when working. You are now the Wolf Lord, and you absolutely cannot be impatient. An impatient wolf will never catch its prey."

Seeing his son deep in thought, Russ, in high spirits, couldn't help but think of an old friend named Han Xin, who also had the same arrogant and hot temper, but Han Xin certainly had the talent; Russ had even been Han Xin's teacher for a few days.

That trip was very beneficial to Russ. From initial astonishment to later looking down on these primitive rascals, especially that scoundrel Liu Bang, who dared to tease him when he was just a dog.

But as time went on, he learned a lot from these primitive people and witnessed firsthand how that person transformed from a rogue into an emperor.

The Emperor has proven that communication is more important than brute force. He can no longer act as before; he must become a true father, not a human-machine that merely issues commands.

The only regret is that after the empire was established, he went on an expedition to the Western Regions and was imprisoned in a cave by the Void Dragon, an alien Xenos, and was severely humiliated. He did not witness the future of his old friends, nor did he know what their fate was.

"They probably all died of old age!"

"Father, what are you saying?"

"Nothing much. Just make sure to turn the Auspex up to maximum power and get as close as possible, but don't alert them, especially that Fel Wavelength Monitor Mordred sent me. Keep a close eye on that thing; our beautiful ship is counting on it."

"Don't worry, Father. I checked it 20 minutes ago. My Second Uncle gave me a special training session before we came. Everything is normal so far. Even a little Gretchin couldn't possibly sneak into our encirclement."

"Okay! But I wanted to ask this before, what does that red dot mean?"

"A red dot?" Turning his head to look at the monitor, Ragnar indeed saw a red dot. He quickly flipped through the instruction manual and then discovered that it was actually a ship.

However, the Fel Energy wavelength detector that his Second Uncle gave him did not have the bird spectrometer function, and he could not use this function normally, so in the end he had to put it together himself.

But this didn't stump Ragnar, after all, he was Space Marine. Following the operating procedure, he connected the data cable, completed the data update in less than 30 seconds, and connected to the Abomination's ship signal through the firewall.

As the Holographic Projection drew ever closer, Russ and Ragnar stared at each other, trying to make out what it was, before being blinded by a blinding white light.

"Report to the Primarch, something terrible has happened! A large number of high-energy reactions have suddenly appeared around the target. It's the Iron Warriors; they're bombarding the World Engine."

"Damn it, you old man Pei, are you trying to blow up Xenos? You're blowing up my ship! Go stop them!"

The Space Wolves abandoned its hiding place, its engines ignited instantly, and it set off for the scene to protect the Necron.

Meanwhile, Mordred, who had just awakened from his dream, fell into deep thought.

Looking up at the sky, Mordred saw nothing but incredibly cool Necrons fleets; looking down, he saw nothing but emaciated humanoid creatures huddled in mud huts. This stark contrast left Mordred utterly bewildered.

But he quickly realized that this must be his precognitive ability, which had only appeared once before, taking over Perturabo's perspective and acting Abo Sister for several years.

"Who is it this time?"

As his thoughts raced, a voice suddenly rang in his ears. Although Mordred had never learned this language, he could understand it perfectly. The voice said, "Trazyn, what are you looking at?"

"It's nothing, Orikan, your eyes shine like stars."

Mordred: "{°A{{)"