Plague War March

"Can you understand this, brother?"

"No clue. You know I'm just an Ogryn with zero psychic potential."

"Stop slacking off and go wash the petri dishes! What are you two doing standing around?"

The Slann, having caught his pets spacing out again, barked a reprimand. He was already regretting bringing these two bottomless pits along for research; not only did they contribute nothing, but they ate more than everyone else combined. Most infuriatingly, they actually wanted to eat the test subjects.

Setting aside the rarity of the specimens, the Old Ones found such behavior utterly bizarre. How could one develop an appetite for their own friends? Yet, whenever he remembered they were his own pets, the Slann couldn't bring himself to stay angry.

By exploiting their status as research subjects, Hogg and his companion had successfully infiltrated the laboratory of the Old Ones. While fear of death was the primary motivator, they still hoped to pilfer some technology; after all, the Old Ones were the gold standard.

However, what Hogg hadn't anticipated was that the experimental processes of the Old Ones relied entirely on psychic energy. Forget stealing the tech—he couldn't even make sense of what he was seeing.

A trade is like a mountain; as a C'tan-worshipping Mekboy who believed in materialism, Hogg didn't care if his own methods were scientific—at least he thought they were—but psychic power was something he simply couldn't grasp.

After realizing he was out of his depth, Hogg pinned his hopes on Guilliman. But that guy always dropped the ball at critical moments. Despite awakening his psychic powers, he only ever used three moves: throwing a spear, flying, and popping a shield. He didn't know a lick of theory!

Much like advanced mathematics, if you don't know it, you don't know it. The moment