On a Pirate Ship

"I don't want to. I just want to be alone right now. To hell with the Great Crusade, to hell with fighting for the Imperium." Angron frantically tore at the flowers.

"Then why did you agree to betray us before? Was it just because you hated the Emperor?" Francis was a bit confused, as this didn't quite align with his understanding of Angron.

"Argh! All I wanted was to kill. It didn't matter who, as long as there was someone to kill," Angron turned to face him, seemingly not understanding why Francis was asking.

"If you had been there then, you might have said killing Horus was fine too."

Hiss hiss hiss~ I spoke too soon.

I didn't expect this to happen. This is going to be difficult.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Francis asked, puzzled.

"Just leave me be. Think of me as a lump of mud. I'll just rot here." With that, Angron lay down on the ground, wanting to do nothing.

Francis: "..."

This isn't right!

Francis quickly ran over and pulled out the metal rod.

"Give it back to me!"

"Give it back to me!"

Angron, who had been lying listlessly moments before, immediately lunged forward in anger. The two grappled, tumbling several times before he snatched the small rod back from Francis.

Then, he quickly inserted it. Angron even trembled at that moment.

"Hoo~ That's right, that's right."

He slumped to the ground, letting Francis kick him several times without retaliating.

He was like a drunkard.

Clearly, the emotion triggered this time must have felt incredibly satisfying!

"Angron, have you completely surrendered to the Butcher's Nails now?" Francis took a deep breath and looked at him quietly.

Angron didn't speak, just stared at him silently.

Only after Francis turned away did Angron slowly speak, "I will go with you. I just haven't felt this way in many years."

"Good. If you want to resurrect our adoptive father, you can come to me."

"Both he and I believe in you."

Upon hearing this, Angron's fingers visibly trembled.

Francis understood. The nails on Angron's head had to be removed completely. Otherwise, if the other party didn't fall into slaughter, it would be terrible if they fell into something else instead.

However, not long after Francis left, someone else arrived.

It was Kharn of the World Eaters, who had come to report the situation. Seeing his Primarch fallen here, his heart ached. He felt as though they had been betrayed by their Primarch.

Yet, he didn't go up to say anything. Instead, he turned and left alone, muttering continuously.

"You yourself hate the Butcher's Nails, so why must you make us endure all of this too!"

"And now, you've escaped the Butcher's Nails, but what about us!"

Immediately after, the pain brought by the Butcher's Nails assailed Kharn's mind once more. A strange emotion lingered in his heart.

It wasn't just him; the other World Eaters felt the same sadness upon seeing this. The already loose World Eaters Legion seemed to be on the verge of disintegration.

They were quite envious of the Soul Drinkers. In recent days, they had often seen the Soul Drinkers bickering with their Primarch, their faces always filled with joy.

Of course, the happiest was Francis.

Because he had never eaten an enslaver, a creature that existed between the material world and the Warp.

Opening the container, he found only a few severed tentacles inside. They were pale white with pinkish hues, looking like pickled octopus legs.

Chewing them gently, the taste was completely different from what he expected. There was no sourness, and it felt tingly and spicy, like eating spicy grilled squid.

Soon, a piece of genetic information came from the tentacles.

"Enslaver"

"Likes to parasitize unprotected psykers, likes to eat demons"

"Born in the Warp"

"Ability: Control"

Seeing this, Francis couldn't suppress his smile. As everyone knows, the fewer the words, the stronger the ability.

"Hehe..."

Three days later, they departed for Istavan III as scheduled.

On the Hrafnkel.

Francis stood on the podium, with the Soul Drinkers gathered below. Although there were only a few thousand of them, far fewer than other Legions.

However, they were the cream of the crop, standing there full of fighting spirit, awaiting Francis's speech.

"Children! What I am about to say next, you must listen carefully."

"Because what comes next concerns the safety of all our lives. While it is an honor to die for the Imperium, living allows us to create more value."

"At that time, the Imperium will be proud of you! Do you all understand?"

Francis's booming voice echoed throughout the briefing room, and the Soul Drinkers shouted back in unison.

"For the Emperor!"

"For the Primarch!"

"..."

As Francis lowered his hands, the room gradually quieted down.

"Because we are going in as rebels this time, so everyone must remember our slogan!"

"Do not shout 'For the Emperor,' nor 'For the Imperium.'"

Upon hearing this, the Soul Drinkers looked confused and asked, "Then what should we say?"

Seeing their bewildered expressions, Francis knew they were too naive and that he had to train them properly.

"At that time, you should shout... 'Slay the False Emperor, humanity belongs to Chaos!'"

"Come, practice it a few times with me."

"'Slay the False Emperor, humanity belongs to Chaos!'"

Hearing this, the Soul Drinkers' scalps tingled, but the Primarch had said they were only pretending.

They prayed to the Emperor in their hearts, then gritted their teeth and shouted loudly.

"Slay the False Emperor, humanity belongs to Chaos!"

"Slay the False Emperor, humanity belongs to Chaos!"

"..."

The synchronized shouts of thousands of people could be heard throughout the entire Hrafnkel.

Countless Space Wolves warriors rushed over with their chainswords, only to be intercepted by Leman Russ before they could reach their destination.

"Primarch! Listen to them! Listen to them! They are actually planning to attack the Emperor! They are rebels!"

"That's right! Primarch, have you also betrayed the Emperor?"

"Speak up! The honor of the Imperium does not allow you to do this! Primarch, have you also been corrupted?!"

The Space Wolves looked at Leman Russ in disbelief, as if they didn't know him at all. They pressed closer, their chainswords already roaring.

Leman Russ rubbed his face in pain and said.

"Sigh~ They haven't betrayed anyone; they are just going undercover among the rebels."

"As for what he's shouting about the False Emperor and Chaos, it has nothing to do with the Imperium."

"The Emperor is the Emperor, and the False Emperor is the False Emperor; they are not the same person."

Leman Russ finished speaking with all his might, and his entire body slumped onto the seat like a deflated ball.

He had never heard such twisted logic; it was a credit to Francis that he could even say it.

The Emperor is the Emperor?

The False Emperor is the False Emperor?

Confusion flickered in the eyes of the Space Wolves. They stood stunned for a long time, then looked at Leman Russ and said.

"So, they are not rebelling! They are going undercover among the rebels. Then why don't we just tell the Emperor directly?"

Hearing the familiar question, Leman Russ took a deep breath and repeated what Francis had told him earlier.

For some reason, even the Warp emitted unusual energy fluctuations.

Time was like an arrow shot from a bow; before you could react, it had already hit its mark.

Five days later...

Near Istavan III.

Francis, along with Angron, Leman, and their respective Legions, arrived on the Vengeful Spirit.

"Oh~ my dear Francis, I am the Warmaster of the Imperium, the former Chapter Master of the Lunar Wolves, now the Sons of Horus Legion—Horus Lupercal."

"It has truly been a long time since we last met."

Horus warmly shook Francis's hand and quickly acknowledged Leman Russ.

Francis feigned a cordial response, though he remembered nothing.

"Since I have delivered the people, I must continue my father's mission. I will not be going inside."

Leman Russ waved his hand and, with the Space Wolves, quickly returned to the Hrafnkel.

Clank~

As the docking clamps between the two warships closed, the Hrafnkel rapidly vanished from its position.

It seemed so rushed that even the Space Wolves felt that something was amiss.

"Enter the Warp immediately. Await the Navigator's message to proceed to the dark side of Istavan III, and bring out all prepared anti-toxin equipment."

"And quickly clear out some space. We'll have many people on board very soon."

As Leman Russ's orders were issued one by one, the Space Wolves carried out their tasks without the slightest hesitation.

"Yes!"

Leman Russ truly wished that what Francis had said was false. He gripped the Spear of Dionysus in his hand, sweat beading on his palms.

Meanwhile, aboard the Vengeful Spirit.

Horus and Francis arrived alone in a dimly lit room.