New Barbarus

In addition to Necrons and Eldar, there are many "disobedient" races in Milky Way.

The task of Dorn and Angron is to "educate" them - with Chainsword and Power Fist.

Mortarion was supposed to be locked up in the Terra dungeon.

Speaking of Mortarion, we have to start a few days ago.

That day Guilliman brought Cawl.

The great sage who has obtained Machine God Lesser God Divinity.

Now his body is flowing with liquid silver metal, his eyes are shining with wisdom, and he looks like a super scientist from a science fiction movie.

Went into the deepest part of Terra dungeon.

Mortarion was sitting in the corner of the cell, with his back against the cold Blackstone wall and his arms resting on his knees.

His Power Armour has been removed and he is wearing a gray prison uniform, with messy hair and unkempt beard.

His eyes were closed, and he didn't know whether he was sleeping or feigning drowsiness.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, he opened his eyes. There was no emotion in those dark green eyes, only a numb emptiness.

Guilliman didn't talk nonsense to him.

He directly asked Cawl to turn on the holographic projection.

In the picture, a planet is slowly rotating.

Not the Barbarus that was polluted beyond recognition by Nurgle, but a brand new, beautiful, and fertile planet.

Blue ocean, green forest, white clouds, golden sunshine.

There is no poisonous fog in the planet's atmosphere, no pus in the soil, and no putrid mold in the rivers.

It looks like an illustration cut out of a fairy tale book.

Mortarion's pupils shrank slightly.

"What is this?" His voice was hoarse.

"Your new home." Guilliman said calmly, "Barbarus 2.0.

Every ravine, every river, every mountain peak is exactly the same as the original Barbarus.

I made another one using Atomic Law.

Of course, there's no poison gas, no your adoptive father, nothing to give you nightmares."

Mortarion's mouth opened and closed again.

The holographic projection screen switched.

This time it's not the scenery, it's the people.

A group of people were working in the fields, their skin tanned by the sun, sweat dripping from their foreheads and dripping into the soft soil.

There was fatigue on their faces, but more importantly, they were satisfied, the kind of satisfaction of "feeding themselves and their families with their own hands."

Their bodies are strong and strong, and the lines of their muscles are particularly clear under the infiltration of sweat.

"Your people." Guilliman's voice continued, "Descendants of Barbarus bloodline.

It took me a lot of effort to find them from all over Milky Way, gather them together, and place them on this planet.

Of course, there are only a few hundred people in the original Barbarus bloodline, which is not enough.

So I did a little more technical processing."

He looked at Cawl.

Cawl pushed up his non-existent glasses - he no longer had glasses on his face, but that action was still retained, like a habit engraved in his genes.

"Time acceleration technology." Cawl's voice was smooth and mechanical, with a calmness of "it's not a big deal." "Necrons's technology, I borrowed it from Silent King.

One day in heaven and ten years on earth.

However, just twenty days have passed, and the people on this planet have bred for seven or eight generations.

They have become aboriginal people in the true sense, with their own culture, their own language, and their own history.

Of course, those cultures and languages are all inherited from your original Barbarus - Lord Guilliman believes that bloodline is the most important, and bloodline marks the spirit and the soul."

Mortarion's breathing stopped.

His eyes were fixed on those who were working, those who were laughing, and those who were running in the sun in the holographic projection.

His throat was tight, his eyes were hot, and his nose was sore.

His lips were trembling.

Guilliman looked at him and said nothing.

He knew that Mortarion was hesitating, doubting, and using his own numerology algorithm to verify repeatedly - to verify whether this planet was real, to verify whether these people were real, to verify whether all this was just a scam set by Guilliman to make him surrender.

But the verification results of Mortarion told him again and again: it is true.

These people are really the descendants of Barbarus.

This planet is really the land in his childhood memories.

There is no pollution from Nurgle, no erosion from Chaos, only sunshine, rain and dew, and those tenacious and hard-working people.

Mortarion cried.

He cried ugly, tears welling up from his dark green eyes, sliding down his pale cheeks, and dripping on the gray prison uniform.

His shoulders were shaking violently, his mouth opened, and he let out a muffled sob, as if he was being strangled by his throat.

The cry was not loud, but in that quiet cell, every syllable seemed to be amplified countless times.

Guilliman squatted down and looked level with him.

"I know you love your heirs." His voice was very soft, "but now there are ten thousand of your heirs waiting for you to lead them.

They need a Primarch, they are just children, you and I both know that.

Go love them more than you did ten thousand years ago.

Let the debt be made up for."

Mortarion did not answer.

He just lowered his head and let his tears fall to the ground, leaving small, fleeting water marks on the cold Blackstone.

Emperor used the power of the one-time Psionic Energy presented by Asuryan to reversely corrupt Mortarion.

That power is not violent expulsion, but gentle purification - like a stream washing away the silt on a river bed, like a spring breeze blowing away winter snow.

Little by little, it peels off the blessings of Nurgle from the body of Mortarion, and transforms those Chaos energies into pure Psionic Energy that belongs to Imperium of Man.

Mortarion's body glowed slightly in the light, and the wounds that had been corroded by Nurgle's blessing for thousands of years began to heal, the bones distorted by Chaos's energy began to reset, and the organs that had been eroded by the plague began to regenerate.

He became a Greater Daemon of E.

Greater Daemon of E of Imperium of Man, Living Saint of Emperor, war brother of Guilliman.

What's even more shocking is that the pair of rotten flesh wings that Ku'gath originally made for him were also sanctified in that light.

The wings did not grow feathers, but became thinner, more transparent, and as light as an elf.

They unfolded behind Mortarion, with a wingspan of more than ten meters. The transparent film reflected a colorful halo under the light, which was too beautiful to be true.

Mortarion looked at the pair of wings and frowned.

He doesn't like it very much.

It's too fancy and doesn't fit his taste.

He prefers a skinny, cold style that makes people think "this guy is not easy to mess with" at first glance.

So he used his newly acquired power to reshape the pair of transparent wings into bone wings.

The wing bones are white, as smooth as ivory, and the wing membrane is light gray, like mist under the moonlight.

When they are spread out behind Mortarion, they don't look like angel wings, but more like the skeleton of some kind of ancient dragon.

Sanguinius was silent for a long time when he saw the pair of bone wings.

"Your aesthetics are really unique." His tone was calm, but there was a hint of complexity in his eyes that said, "I don't agree but I respect you."