Living Black Rage

No.

It might be slightly stronger Terra.

After all, there are only one million Ultramarines on Terra.

There are 1.5 million in Macragge.

That's an extra 500,000.

With the support of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, the secret legions hidden in every corner, and the superweapons under development—

If a fight were to break out, Macragge's defensive capabilities would definitely give any enemy a headache.

Guilliman leaned back in his chair, gazing at the sky outside the window.

He remembered many things.

He recalled the days ten thousand years ago when he established the Second Imperium on this land.

Back then, he was young and impetuous, believing he could save everything.

And what was the result? Horus Heresy, Sanguinius was killed in battle, and the Imperium disintegrated.

He imagined the days ten thousand years later when he rebuilt his home on this land.

This time, he had gained experience, learned lessons, and possessed even greater strength.

I think of my father, my brothers, and those warriors who sacrificed themselves for humanity.

He said softly:

"This time, I will not fail again."

Outside the window, the sun finally set.

As night falls, the stars begin to twinkle in the sky.

The endless stars seemed to be responding to his words.

Meanwhile, in the infinitely distant fourth-dimensional space, in another place, another carnival is unfolding.

In Trazyn's museum, Fabius stands before an experimental table, hands raised high, letting out a triumphant cheer:

"Hahaha! I did it! I've become Apothecary!"

Behind him, several warriors Emperor's Children, exchanged glances, unsure whether they should join in the cheering.

Trazyn emerged from the shadows, his eerie green eyes gleaming with curiosity:

"What's done?"

Fabius turned around, his face beaming with excitement, and pointed to a huge, pulsating object on the lab table:

"This!"

Trazyn leaned closer and examined him closely.

That's a brain.

A huge, living, beating brain.

Its surface is covered with complex lines and metal devices, and it emits a faint blue light with each pulse.

The light rippled through the four-dimensional space, like waves, like ripples, like—

The breathing of some living creature.

Trazyn's emotional simulation system trembled slightly:

"What's this?"

Fabius was beaming with pride:

"Black Rage. Living Black Rage."

Trazyn remained silent for three seconds.

"What?"

Fabius cleared his throat and began to explain:

"I used the Gene-seed of the Blood Angels to cultivate this brain."

It can amplify the wearer's anger infinitely, making any enemy appear as Horus to the wearer.

He patted the throbbing organ:

"Simply put—once this device is attached to someone, they will become possessed by Sanguinius, and will frantically want to tear everything in their path apart."

Trazyn's eyes lit up.

The eerie green light intensified.

You mean...?

Fabius nodded:

Roge Dorn.

"If you put this on him, he'll treat his brother Guilliman like Horus."

Trazyn remained silent for a moment.

Then he smiled.

The laughter echoed through the four-dimensional space, carrying a hint of madness, a hint of smugness, and a hint of—

expect.

"Fabius."

He said:

"You're a genius."

Fabius waved his hand:

Don't rush to praise me.

There's another question.

He pointed to the golden figure Stasis Field in the distance:

He's still in there watching me.

He was conscious for a short while when they fitted him with the arm.

That look in his eyes—

Fabius shuddered:

"I almost thought he was going to jump out and tear me apart."

Trazyn looked toward Roge Dorn, who Stasis Field.

The golden figure remained standing, motionless.

But his eyes were fixed straight in Fabius's direction.

In that gaze, there was anger, hatred, and a hint of—

warn.

It seems to be saying:

"When I get out, you'll be the first person I kill."

Trazyn smiled:

"Don't worry.

He can't get out."

He turned around and looked in another direction.

There, in another Stasis Field, stood a figure twelve meters tall.

That was an Krork.

The oldest ancestor of the Orks, a terrifying being from the War in Heaven.

For 65 million years, it has been sealed in this four-dimensional space.

But at this moment, its eyes were also open.

Those blood-red eyes burned with a primal thirst for war.

There hasn't been a fight in 65 million years.

There has been no killing for 65 million years.

No one in 65 million years --

I had my fun.

Trazyn looked at it, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes:

"Take it with you too."

Fabius paused for a moment:

"It? Doesn't it need control?"

Trazyn shook his head:

"Unnecessary.

Throw it onto the battlefield, and it will automatically seek out the strongest target to fight.

you say--"

He paused, and his smile became even more sinister.

"Wouldn't Guilliman be considered the strongest target?"

Fabius remained silent for three seconds.

Then, he smiled too.

"Calculate."

He said:

"Absolutely."

Fabius was busy for the next few days.

He first used the materials provided by Trazyn to heal all the wounds on the Krork's body.

The process was truly thrilling.

The moment the Stasis Field was temporarily lifted, the Krork nearly went berserk on the spot.

Its eyes instantly turned blood red, its muscles tensed instantly, and a low growl came from its throat:

"Waaaaaagh--!"

The sound was so loud that it shook the entire four-dimensional space.

Fabius was nearly knocked over by the sound.

Fortunately, Trazyn was prepared; a flash of eerie green light immobilized the Krork once again.

But its eyes said it all.

It wants to fight.

It really wanted to hit it.

It's been 65 million years, it's about to go crazy.

Fabius wiped away his cold sweat:

"Is this thing... really okay?"

Trazyn nodded:

"No problem.

"Just throw it in front of Guilliman, and it will do its thing."

Fabius took a deep breath and continued working.

Next, Dorn lost his arm.

During this period of free time, Fabius created a clone of Dorn's forearm.

The sample used was Dorn's own genetic sample—that vial of golden blood—which provided sufficient genetic information.

As he attached the forearm to Dorn, Dorn's eyes suddenly opened.

At that moment, Fabius felt as if he were being watched by a lion.

In that gaze, there was anger, murderous intent, and a hint of—

Cold, rational thinking.

Dorn's lips moved slightly.

Although there was no sound, Fabius read the lip movements:

You will die.

Fabius's hand trembled, and he almost dropped the scalpel.

But he took a deep breath and continued to complete the final step.

Then he stepped back a few paces and looked at Dorn, who was once again enveloped by the Stasis Field.

The golden figure remained standing there.

But the anger in his eyes burned even more fiercely.

It seemed as if it might break free of its restraints at any moment and rush out to tear him to pieces.

Fabius was still shaken:

"This guy... is terrifying." Don't be afraid.

He can't get out."