"My lord."
Golden light spilled across the floor, the Emperor's radiance illuminating every corner of the room. The Emperor wore the golden power armor known as the True One Armor, yet his steps were incredibly light as he slowly entered the room.
The Custodes held guardian spears and raised their banners in orderly ranks as they followed their master into the human modification laboratory, thick with the stench of blood.
The Gene-Engineers cried out in unison, unable to conceal the excitement and reverence surging from their souls. Yet their faces were filled with shame, and they lowered their heads in silence.
They had failed the mission the Emperor had entrusted to them—a glorious duty. Now, they had made no progress at all. Naturally, they were ashamed beyond words and had no face with which to meet the Emperor.
The gene-seed inherited from Primarch Twenty-One, the offspring of the Emperor, had been implanted far less successfully than that of the other Legions. It could even be said that they had made not the slightest progress.
To this day, not a single soldier had been successfully modified. Every test subject had died on the operating table, never transforming into the "Angels of Death" the Emperor required.
The Emperor stood concealed within his radiance. His gaze was almost tangible as he surveyed the wreckage throughout the laboratory, examining the neatly arranged operating tables, the piles of ashes burned to nothing, and the scorch marks left upon the tables.
Primarch Twenty-One!
His gene-seed had once again placed a problem before them. This was not the first time the Emperor had come for him. Even while burdened by countless affairs, he had still personally visited the laboratory.
The last time the Emperor had come, there had been a problem with the gene-seed cultivated from the Primarch's genetic material.
The gene-seed of Primarch Twenty-One was unlike that of his brothers. Its exterior was not hideously distorted, nor did irregular tentacles grow from it. It bore no indelible traces of the Warp.
Its exterior was crystalline and translucent, as pure and flawless as blood-colored amber. It enclosed a walnut-sized core and was only as large as an egg overall.
Such a perfectly unified existence left the Gene-Engineers with no way to proceed. They could not extract material from the gene-seed to cultivate the superhuman organs they required.
After countless failures and the expenditure of vast resources, the Emperor had finally come in person and resolved the laboratory workers' doubts.
Perhaps it was a trait of a Warp demigod. Or perhaps it was an acquired mutation. The gene-seed provided by Primarch Twenty-One did not need to cultivate organs externally.
Once the gene-seed was implanted into a test subject's chest cavity, it would sprout and grow.
In only seven Terran days, the gene-seed inside the implanted subject would grow superhuman organs on its own. It would even grow several other organs whose exact functions were unknown.
Superhuman organs grown naturally would not cause the test subject to reject them. While their capabilities were greatly enhanced, all the organs coordinated perfectly with the host, as though they had always been a single, innate whole.
This discovery sent the technicians into a frenzy of delight. The modification cycle for the Angels of Death would be drastically shortened, while their safety would improve by several levels.
Compared with the other Legions, the gene-modified warriors inheriting Primarch Twenty-One's gene-seed were taller, faster, and stronger.
In the future crusades, they would become the sword of the Master of Mankind, destroying the enemies of humanity and restoring mankind's glory!
If that had truly been the case, the Emperor would not have needed to come again. The implantation project had encountered unprecedented challenges. Every test subject had died, and the success rate remained zero.
The other Legions were making feverish preparations and had already begun to develop combat strength. Yet not a single member of the Twenty-First Legion had survived and successfully walked off the operating table.
"Gene-Warlock, report what you know." A Custodian stepped forward. As the Emperor's most loyal servant, he conveyed all of the Emperor's words.
The Emperor's voice flowed from the golden warrior's mouth, beautiful as poetry. It swept away the dejection in the laboratory and radiated an invisible power that stirred the heart.
"My lord." The Gene-Warlock rose and slowly moved away from the operating table stained red with blood. The auxiliary arms on his back began to move.
The Gene-Warlock said regretfully, "Test subject 32134, like all the previous subjects, developed his organs perfectly. Two weeks after the gene-seed was implanted, his entire body began bleeding for unknown reasons. In the end, he spontaneously combusted and was reduced to ashes."
"My lord, please look here. This is the only preserved corpse." The Gene-Warlock slowly moved to a refrigeration chamber.
A three-meter-tall giant's corpse lay inside the refrigeration chamber.
He had stood three meters tall in the flesh. The muscles of his limbs and torso bulged with explosive strength, and his body seemed forged from steel and iron. Even after being dead for some time, the corpse still radiated a savage, violent aura.
A powerful body lay preserved in the cold chamber, utterly lifeless. It was a heartbreaking sight.
"My lord, please look here." Following the direction indicated by the Gene-Warlock's mechanical arm, the Emperor lowered his gaze and saw the corpse's miserable condition.
The corpse was densely covered in scars, claw marks, knife wounds, bites, and axe chops. Nearly every form of harm known to humanity had been carved into that towering body, creating a sight of extraordinary horror.
Blood seeped from every part of his body. Not a single patch of good flesh remained on the giant, as though he had been tormented by every kind of torture instrument hundreds or thousands of times.
The dead man seemed less like a test subject or a new recruit than a warrior who had endured an endless war and died upon an extraordinarily perilous battlefield.
The Gene-Warlock pulled over a holographic panel and projected a three-dimensional image, presenting everything to the Master of Mankind. The lifelike footage recorded the entire process, from the implantation of the gene-seed to the test subject's death.
A test subject lay calmly on the operating table, his limbs bound by several restraint straps. When the technicians buried the blood-red gene-seed in his chest, the great transformation began.
His average-sized, slightly gaunt body began to develop with brutal force.
Over the following week, his bone density increased, his muscle density surged, and his skin became more resilient. Every organ functioned normally.
Every statistic far surpassed those of the warriors from the other Legions. Taller! Bigger! Faster! Stronger!
As time passed and the areas of bodily growth gradually stabilized, the warrior in the footage suddenly began to struggle.
His eyes bulged, blood-red and filled with hatred. His gritted teeth shattered, and furious roars poured from his mouth. His limbs tensed, every muscle flexing as the restraint straps creaked. The operating table rocked precariously beneath his struggles.
Then those horrifying wounds appeared out of nowhere!
Blood flowed without end! Every kind of injury tore through his flesh. In the next instant, his extraordinary regenerative ability began healing the wounds, only for them to tear open again, then heal once more. The cycle continued without end.
Injury, healing—endless agony ravaged the superhuman body, gradually leaving scars across it.
The test subject let out a howl, but it was not a cry of pain. It was a furious roar filled with hatred, making everyone present tremble with fear.
That anger! That hatred!
The Emperor's brows drew tightly together. He had never seen or heard of such anger and hatred in a human being.
Eternal and undying! Never yielding!
The Custodian tightened his grip on his guardian spear. The hatred conveyed by the projection's recorded image was so real that it made him shudder.
The surrounding workers covered their ears and trembled. Even after witnessing it thousands of times, they were still frightened by that genuine fury.
"I'm going to butcher you all!"
His bulging bloodshot eyes glowed with such redness. His furious roar seemed to ring beside their ears, while the surging killing intent sent chills down the Custodes' spines.
What was this?
This was no longer an emotion that humans could express. If this was not boundless hatred, then what was? If this was not fury capable of destroying the world, then what could be?
Hatred and pain intensified. The test subject's body gradually collapsed, and once everything fell silent, his life vanished in an instant.
Golden radiance rose, dispelling the fear in everyone's hearts and driving the fury from the laboratory.
The Emperor said nothing. He walked to the refrigeration chamber, his eyes devoid of joy or sorrow, and placed a hand upon it. He sensed the remnants of the corpse's soul, investigating the source of that boundless rage.
His arm trembled faintly. Neither the Custodes nor anyone else in the laboratory noticed that brief tremor.
The Emperor withdrew his arm and gently clenched his fist. Sorrow surged from the depths of his heart, and he let out a sigh. He mourned that a true human being had died—his soul scattered, utterly extinguished in both the material universe and the Warp.
Only he knew that the soul of the person on the operating table had been completely annihilated, burned away without a trace by the flames of fury.
"The next test subject." The Custodian spoke again, representing the Emperor's will. "I will work alongside you to explore the unknown."
The Emperor sat upon the throne in the hall, furious beyond measure. He wanted to see exactly who had utterly destroyed the soul of a human being!
The Gene-Warlock bowed. A Custodian followed him and brought the next test subject there.
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