"Isn't this a little too much protection?" Francis rubbed his chin and pointed ahead.
Following his finger, they saw a crowd of more than two hundred people. There were not only Adeptus Custodes among them, but Sisters of Silence as well.
"Come on, let's go. Why bother looking at them?"
"The Adeptus Custodes could never understand the Emperor the way a Primarch does!"
Leman Russ tugged Francis along. He'd been looking forward to this, but seeing the Adeptus Custodes made him a little irritable.
At last, they set off for Prospero.
Nearby, several Thousand Sons Chief Librarians had witnessed the whole thing from beginning to end.
"What do we do? They seem to be heading to Prospero." Everyone looked to Ahriman, who was their anchor now.
Ahriman pondered for a moment, then analyzed the situation. "You all saw it. We're not the only Psykers who have returned this time. There are powerful Psykers from other legions, too."
"So we're not going to do anything?"
Seeing the anxiety in everyone's eyes, Ahriman took a deep breath. He had decided to do something that went against the Emperor's orders. "There are just enough of us to send one message to the Primarch!"
"Good!"
The others looked stunned, but they accepted the suggestion.
Sending information across such a vast distance was dangerous. Even as battle-hardened Chief Librarians, they risked irreversible consequences.
The group quietly left the Imperial Palace and made their way to a remote cave.
Dozens of Thousand Sons Chief Librarians formed a circle. Their eyes were shut tight, their faces twisted in pain, and an indescribable energy rippled through the air.
At the center, Ahriman slowly raised his hands. Veins bulged across his forehead, and his eyes suddenly snapped open, shining with a brilliant blue light—the sign that his psychic power had reached its peak.
He drew a deep breath and began chanting an ancient, complex incantation. Each syllable echoed through space like a musical note, weaving a psychic path to Prospero.
As the chant grew more intense, the energy inside the cave surged, as if the entire space were trembling.
Suddenly—
"Primarch, the Emperor has ordered the Adeptus Custodes to find you!"
A dazzling light burst from Ahriman's hands, forming a thin beam that pierced the cave and shot into the sky, vanishing into the distance.
Before anyone could relax, they heard the Adeptus Custodes outside. "Everyone inside, listen! You have violated the Emperor's law!"
"You have until—"
Before they could finish, several screams rang out beside them.
One Chief Librarian exploded on the spot. On the other side, another writhed on the ground as flesh squirmed out through the gaps in his armor.
A strange odor filled the area, and indescribable whispers reached their ears.
Aboard the Hrafnkel.
Francis was teaching his sons—the Soul Drinkers legion.
"As I've told you, the goal of battle is to defeat the enemy!"
"So! That's not the same as fighting fair!"
"Come on! Let's use Orks as an example!"
Just then, the ship shuddered violently, and red lights signaling a psychic alert flashed throughout the room.
A dazzling blue light streaked past the ship in space, then vanished into the distance, entering the Warp.
"Wake up! Stop daydreaming!" Francis rapped on the lectern, and the Soul Drinkers below finally came to their senses.
"Let's use Orks as an example..."
With a bang, the conference room doors flew open, and several Adeptus Custodes charged inside!
With their stern expressions and absurdly long golden helmets, they looked to Francis like a bunch of giant corn monsters.
"Get out! Now!"
"If anyone interrupts my meeting again today, I'll show them the power of technology!"
As he spoke, Francis pulled out a tube filled with a black, viscous substance. They felt a chill run through them, even without touching the liquid!
The haughty Adeptus Custodes had no choice but to obediently leave and close the doors behind them.
"Perfect! I can use this potion as an example, too! It's a super-strong acid cultivated from Vesken blood. It can even corrode Ceramite of ordinary strength!"
As he spoke, Francis kept smiling and shaking the potion in his hand.
In the Soul Drinkers' eyes, their Primarch didn't look like a good person at all.
"We were talking about Orks, right. Yes, that's right—Orks." Francis nodded to himself.
"Orks are a bunch of enemies who do nothing but yell and charge at you."
"So there's no need for close combat!"
"All we have to do is scatter growth potion everywhere, then shine a bright light on them!"
When Francis stopped talking, the enthralled crowd hurriedly pressed him. "And then? What happens next?"
"Then? Then you set everything on fire!"
"While they're still stunned, douse them with this super-strong acid!"
"If they're still alive, use bolt grenade launchers, Multi-meltas—everything you've got!"
"If you can ambush them, don't fight them head-on!"
"When the enemy tires, strike..."
Listening to Francis teach them his combat techniques, the Soul Drinkers felt they'd learned a great deal!
As expected of a Primarch!
After a live combat drill and a lesson in theory, the Soul Drinkers truly admired Francis and were proud to have him as their Primarch.
Next, Francis began examining their physical problems.
First was Sarpedon. Francis took the blood sample from him and gave it a small sip.
It tasted faintly sweet and salty at first, was a little viscous in the middle, and had a barely detectable rotten smell at the end.
"Don't use your psychic powers for a while. You're showing clear signs of something wrong!"
Francis rolled his eyes at Sarpedon. He could also sense that Sarpedon's Flesh Change was quite severe. Something inside him had clearly forced his body to mutate, giving him spider-like genes.
"Come with me next door. I'll treat you first!"
Francis stood up, picked up his case, and headed for the door.
"Why—"
Sarpedon had just started to ask when he saw Francis's face turn dark.
Too bad he hadn't asked the question in time. He was in for it now.
Not long after the two left, a terrible scream came from the room next door.
"AAAHHHHH!"
They'd been undergoing bodily modification since their youth. They were Astartes warriors.
Their tolerance for pain was incredible.
It was no exaggeration to say that Astartes could barely feel pain at all.
But now, just hearing Sarpedon's screams made their scalps tingle. They couldn't imagine the horrific treatment he was enduring!
Actually, it was nothing much.
Francis had simply cut away all the deformed flesh and skin on Sarpedon's body.
If any bones had mutated, he broke them and removed them, then used growth potion to make new limbs and flesh grow back quickly.
As the flesh grew, he also fine-tuned Sarpedon's genes, knocking out or modifying the mutated gene sequences.
Once the new tissue had fully grown, if any deformities remained, he repeated the process.
He kept going until the mutations had been reduced to an acceptable level.
Francis: "How did you grow a whole bunch of grapes?"
"NO!!!"
Too bad—snip! Down came the knife!
Francis also used a special gene supplement made from his own blood, injecting it into the other person's body.
In his previous experiments, Francis had discovered that his genes were unusual.
When most people encountered fused mutations or foreign genes, their genes would selectively coexist with them, keeping both sides independent.
Francis's genes were different.
There was a special type of gene in his body that assimilated foreign genes, keeping his own genetic makeup pure.
Simply put, he could fuse with other genes without worrying about his flesh mutating.
So he needed to make sure the other person's genetic profile was relatively clean before injecting the supplement.
Cut it off for good!
In just half an hour, everyone sat on pins and needles. Their bodies kept sending out warning signals, telling them to flee.
Half an hour later, Sarpedon returned to the conference room on trembling legs, his body noticeably smaller.
"Next!"
Prospero.
A brilliant blue light appeared out of nowhere in the star system where Prospero lay. It pierced the clouds and gradually flew toward the City of Light, Tizca.
At last, it plunged into the pyramid of light at the heart of Tizca and landed directly in Magnus's hand as he meditated.
Opening the message.
[Primarch, the Emperor has ordered a large force of Adeptus Custodes to wipe you out!]
Before you continue