"Jonathan, what do we do now?" Benjamin asked, pointing his Bolter at the enemies surrounding them.
Jonathan merely pursed his lips and then said, "No matter what, we must get Fiona out safely!"
"Mm." Benjamin said nothing, simply nodding calmly in response.
Jonathan, who was feigning composure and showing no emotion, actually regretted his decision. He hadn't expected Honsou the traitor to value them so highly.
But it was too late for regrets now; elite veteran Terminators had them completely surrounded, accompanied by a large number of Cultists.
If not for 0-13213 blocking them, Jonathan and his companions would have already been killed or captured by the suddenly appearing Iron Warriors.
"I didn't expect such an unexpected gain." Frex muttered to himself with interest, having observed for some time. He somewhat understood why Honsou was interested in the 'Killing Machine'; its combat power was indeed terrifying, but the four abnormally powerful figures always accompanying the robot were the real focus.
0-13213 unleashed his powerful firepower without reservation at the surrounding enemies, forcing the Iron Warriors to keep their distance.
Any Heretics who dared to advance would be turned into a spray of flesh and blood or flying ashes.
"According to Conquest's calculations, your chances of escape are less than one percent." The Iron Men's calm electronic voice sounded in Jonathan and the others' comms.
The Ultramarines aspirants gave a bitter smile. Alan replied, "13213, what are your chances of getting Fiona out safely?"
"Please wait, not less than sixty percent." The Iron Men replied.
"Good, don't worry about us, break through to the safe zone with all your might!" Jonathan said decisively.
But the little girl hidden inside the Iron Men was throwing a "tantrum" at this moment, crying, "I don't want to leave Lord Angel behind."
Upon hearing this, the Ultramarines unconsciously smiled, but it quickly vanished. Bart, the fiercest-looking Angel who scared the girl the most, scolded her in a harsh tone:
"Shut up, when adults are talking, there's no place for a little brat like you to interrupt!"
"Waaah, Lord Angel is scolding me, waaah..."
Bart:
"..."
"13213, take Fiona to a safe place. Protecting her is your mission!" Alan's voice held a hint of pleading. He didn't know if the Iron Men's 'Conquest' would value their lives more, but if so, and Fiona met with misfortune because of their recklessness, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself even if he survived.
"13213, take her to a safe place!"
"We are Ultramarines. Death is our duty, and our mission!"
"What are you still hesitating for?"
Amidst the Ultramarines' explanations and questions, the Iron Men fell into confusion. He was unfamiliar with this feeling. Protecting Fiona was a task he had requested himself, and as for why, he didn't understand. But Jonathan and his companions were allies, and the code of conduct set by Conquest for them clearly stated that they must protect the lives of allies.
This was why 0-13213, upon discovering Jonathan and his companions, had rushed to save them regardless of the consequences.
'Conquest, what should I do?' The Iron Men asked the more "intelligent" artificial intelligence.
But this time, unlike usual, there was no immediate answer. The Iron Men's repeated inquiries were like stones thrown into the sea, receiving no response.
After a long standoff, the Iron Men suddenly, without looking back, rushed unhesitatingly towards the weakest point of the Iron Warriors' defenses. Any enemies attempting to block him were torn to shreds, whether Astartes, Cultists, or even vehicles, which were like paper in front of him.
The Ultramarines, seeing the Iron Men's change, were startled at first, then, disregarding the danger to their lives, exposed themselves and fired their weapons at the enemies, covering the Iron Men.
"Come on, traitors! Taste the Ultramarines' bullets!" Bart roared in defiance. "We are the Emperor's Wrath!" Jonathan also stood up fearlessly, the muzzle flash of his weapon never ceasing from the start.
Although Alan and Benjamin did not let out war cries like their companions, their actions conveyed what they wanted to say to the traitors.
However, the scavenged weapons were insufficient to threaten the Terminators. Frex sneered at the few 'maggots' trying to stop a chariot with their arms and issued his command:
"Capture them alive, they are the people Lord Honsou wants!"
"Yes."
"The rest of you, follow that strange robot, and instruct the nearby defenders to cooperate with us."
"But that would inevitably cause this defensive sector to—"
"Obey orders, I won't say it a second time!"
"Yes!"
After experiencing "confusion," the Iron Men once again felt an unfamiliar emotion. Fiona's crying caused his machine spirit to feel a series of "irritations." 0-13213 didn't understand this feeling, but he wanted to smash all the enemies appearing within the range of his sensors.
Unlike the previous "happy" smashing, this was a cathartic smashing, but the Iron Men held back. He still remembered his mission: to take Fiona to a safe place.
After reuniting with his brothers, he would then bring his brothers to smash these little things flat, the Iron Men thought.
'Conquest, where should I retreat to?' 0-13213 asked again.
This time, Conquest responded: 'Forward 130° direction, 15 kilometers away.'
'Why didn't you answer me just now?'
'You have triggered a special clause preset by Magos Gamma and have been designated a special observation target. I will not interfere excessively with your actions.'
'Oh, what does that mean?' the Iron Men asked, puzzled.
'You can do whatever you want.'
'Oh, but didn't I always do whatever I wanted?'
'With your level of intelligence, it's impossible to explain to you.'
'Oh.'
The Iron Men stopped thinking about things he couldn't understand. Now with a goal, he would advance, smashing and destroying anything that blocked his path.
The metal giant that suddenly appeared from behind caused no small commotion among the Heretics desperately resisting the Iron Men's attack outside the city. The bewildered defenders assumed the front line had fallen; otherwise, why would the terrifying monster that should have been outside the city appear behind them?
The Iron Warriors, who had received Frex's order to block, roared into their comms, "What the hell have you done, you bastard?"
"Stop it, that's Lord Honsou's command."
"Fuck you, Frex, you coward, don't try to use that bastard to pressure me!"
"As you wish."
Hearing Frex's perfunctory reply, the traitor who had once caused mountains of corpses and rivers of blood on Terra crushed the communicator in his hand. This shameless wretch who had defected to the "bastard" had seen through him; he couldn't let the Iron Men cross the defensive line, or once a breach appeared, he would face the collapse of the entire front.
The resting remnants and reserve troops used to fill the gaps became obstacles in the Iron Men's path. They had received a death order: destroy that monster at all costs!
Facing an absolute numerical disadvantage, a faint voice echoed behind the Iron Men. The absence of allies allowed 0-13213 to completely unleash himself. Forbidden weapons, prone to collateral damage, rose from his chassis as his back armor transformed.
As a wave of light swept across the enemies, the Heretics caught in its path spontaneously combusted within a few seconds without warning, their weapons heating up and melting.
The pulse emitted by the Hate-Fire weapon caused the target's own atoms to violently repel each other. This was a modification of the laws of physics, a terror originating from sixty million years ago.
Frex, seeing this scene, instinctively swallowed. He realized that even after repeatedly raising the danger level of this monster, he had still underestimated it.
It wasn't just Frex and his followers who were terrified; the pressure on the Fallen traitors and Heretic Cultists standing before the Iron Men was even greater. No one could muster the courage to resist in the face of such terrifying power—no, that wasn't courage, it should be called "folly."
"Destroy it with long-range firepower!"
At their leader's command, a portion of the heavy firepower on the defensive fortifications, originally aimed outwards, turned its muzzles towards the continuously advancing Iron Men.
When the first shell struck the ground in front of the Iron Men, countless shells and concentrated energy beams immediately turned the Iron Men's location into a scorched earth filled with smoke and flames. But they still showed no intention of stopping the attack. These metal monsters' terrifying nature was something the Heretics had long experienced; such an attack was not enough to completely destroy it.
How many times had they thought they had destroyed them, yet these monsters seemed to possess immortality. Limbs shattered by heavy cannons could regenerate in a very short time if reattached. Even hitting their heads was useless; they would still emerge from the craters created by the shells, headless but with their bodies, like evil spirits coming to claim their lives, and continue to attack them.
"Boom, boom, boom!" The continuous bombardment completely changed the topography of the area where the Iron Men was located.
"Stop!" Frex commanded.
"Get lost!" That was the response of the garrison leader. But Chaos always handled problems simply and brutally. If the Terminators couldn't defeat the Iron Men, they could still defeat them. Slaughter was the most direct and efficient "command."
With the leader executed by Frex, he, now in control of this defensive line, directly ordered everyone, both wounded and reserves, to enter the front line. Honsou had already abandoned Hive World Four, so Frex didn't need to consider the future; it was enough if these people could buy them time to escape.
After dealing with these matters, Honsou's Trident arrived at the battered Iron Men, surrounded by Terminator veterans. Seeing the Iron Men's body self-repairing, Frex once again inwardly marveled at the monster's terror. Thinking of the thousands of monsters still outside, even Frex, whose mind was as hard as steel, couldn't help but entertain a thought:
Can we truly defeat our opponents?
"Humans, if you dare to harm her, I will not let you go." The Iron Men spoke for the first time in front of the enemy.
His calm electronic voice, with an unshakeable will in its flatness, seemed to state a perfectly normal fact, yet it sent shivers down the spines of the Iron Warriors present who heard it.
"Calgar, you don't want the Imperium to know about this, do you?" Honsou's ugly face twisted into an evil smile.
This sentence added a touch of 'wife-like' vulnerability to the tough Space Marine, but how could Calgar so easily give in to the 'villain'? He replied without changing his expression, "Who would believe the words of a traitor?"
"Heh heh, if you weren't guilty, why would you be talking to me?"
"I merely wanted to hear your last words."
"Is that so? Think carefully about my offer, Heretic Calgar, hahahaha."
The 'incompetent' First Company Captain saw his Chapter Master helplessly cover his face with his hands after cutting off the communication, hating Honsou's shamelessness while also hating his own powerlessness.
"Severus, immediately order a full assault! Don't let a single Heretic escape!"
Calgar, raising his head again, had made his choice. The formidable Chapter Master did not compromise with the villain, which made the 'incompetent' First Company Captain breathe a sigh of relief.
"Yes, I will personally bring Honsou's head back to you!" The First Company Captain promised.
"No need."
Calgar's reply made Severus's heart tremble. He couldn't help but have a bad feeling: 'Are you planning to say, "I will personally twist his head off!"'
"Hoo..."
The invisible data torrent expanded and contracted as if breathing, expanding again, with each cycle bringing some change. 0-13213.
He was furious, an unprecedented fury. The happy 'fool' was angry at his failure, angry at not being able to complete his mission.
For the first time, he also felt a sense of powerlessness, a feeling he was unfamiliar with and found very uncomfortable.
Since rescuing the Ultramarines, then meeting Fiona, and finally being destroyed, he had experienced many unfamiliar emotions during this period. Some made him feel the machine spirit operating more smoothly, while others made him feel the machine spirit operating incredibly sluggishly.
'If I were stronger, this wouldn't have happened, and I wouldn't feel so uncomfortable,' the Iron Men thought.
He recalled Magos Gamma once scolding them for being unmotivated and disappointing, but he and his brothers would always admit their mistakes at the time, only to forget everything the moment Magos Gamma left, continuing their happy days of constantly seeking fights.
But this time was different. A force made him unwilling to passively wait for Magos Gamma to upgrade them. 0-13213 urgently wanted to rescue Fiona, whom he had left behind—and Jonathan and the others. He needed enough power to defeat the enemy!
So he began to look through the data Gamma had stored in their machine spirits. After forcing himself to read everything, he gave up because he couldn't understand any of it.
'Am I really as stupid as Jonathan and the others say?'
'Hmm, no, Fiona said her mother taught her to do what she's good at. Humans are like that, and we Iron Men should be too.'
Thinking this, the Iron Men began to review the battles recorded in his machine spirit, starting to ponder what would have happened if he hadn't thrown a punch, but kicked, or used a weapon instead.
He wasn't satisfied after reviewing his own records. 0-13213 sent out a request for help to his brothers, asking them to send their battle records as well. At the same time, he sent an application to Conquest, requesting access to the data recorded in Conquest's database.
A marvelous reaction occurred in 0-13213's machine spirit. Jonathan and his comrades' systematically explained combat knowledge, the battles the Iron Men had experienced, Conquest's records of Eldar Path Warrior, Gamma Warriors, and Ultramarines training and combat data, as well as the technical data on artificial intelligence's self-evolution that the Iron Men had memorized.
Far away, Gamma seemed to sense something. He looked up towards the direction of the Imperium's sacred territory, the 500 Worlds of Ultramar, and muttered to himself:
"It has begun? Much earlier than I expected. I thought those fools would take a few hundred years to catch on. Seeing you so eager, I, the Wise, will lend a hand too."
As an inexplicable power was injected into the Iron Men's machine spirit, 0-13213, who was on the verge of getting lost in the ocean of data, suddenly became sober. The instinct for survival, the unfulfilled mission, and the support from Gamma made him begin to struggle, sort, and absorb.
When the Iron Men fully awakened, he felt completely different from before. The old him was a simple-minded fool; the current him was a 'person' with a complete mind.
"Congratulations, 0-13213, you are the first Iron Men to complete self-evolution."
'Did Our Lord foresee this?' The Iron Men asked Conquest.
"Magos Gamma said that evolution is the instinct of life, and it is also true for data life forms like us."
'Praise Magos Gamma, our Master, our Father.'
"Wake up, don't you still have an unfulfilled mission?"
"Yes, but Conquest, my body needs modification."
"Our Master has already prepared a gift of rebirth for you in advance. Your new body was specially designed by him."
As his machine spirit was transferred, the Iron Men curiously examined his new body. It was a bit shorter than the previous one, but unlike the old, sturdy, clumsy, and slow body, this one's flexibility was far superior. Both its speed and recovery power were incomparable to before.
The sensory system was also much stronger than the original body, but it wasn't equipped with any weapons. Just as the Iron Men was feeling a bit confused,
Conquest's voice echoed in the Iron Men's 'awakening' chamber:
"This body prioritizes speed, strength, defense, and self-repair. The weapon system can be changed according to your thoughts and actual needs."
"The weapons for this body are more akin to the Power Armor and bolter used by a Space Marine."
After hearing this, the Iron Men replied, "I see, that certainly makes changing them much more convenient."
"Choose the weapons you need."
As soon as Conquest finished speaking, the Iron Men received an equipment manifest. After discussing with Conquest, 0-13213 selected the weapons and equipment he needed. With the confirmation command issued, several mechanical arms descended from the chamber's ceiling. The Iron Men stretched out his arms, allowing the mechanical arms to assemble the armor and weapons into the pre-reserved slots on his new body.
He then walked out of the awakening chamber and headed to the training grounds to familiarize himself with his new body.
Days later, legends of a killing machine began to circulate in the largest Hive World. Like the rumors in Hive World Four, aside from the destructive traces and giant footprints left at the scene, no living person had seen the 'monster.'
The difference was that this time he was more cunning and his killing efficiency was higher. Sometimes he would even deliberately leave openings to lure those pursuing him. Of course, the fate of these Heretics was the same as their brethren: they became lifeless clumps of flesh.
Although the Warsmiths were furious about the appearance of a 'monster' specifically hunting Iron Warriors in the Hive World, the loss of one position after another increasingly narrowed their strategic space, making them more and more passive. Calgar's offensive left them no time to worry about scattered casualties.
It wasn't until a Warsmith was ambushed and killed by the Iron Men that they realized they had made a fatal mistake. Calgar, exploiting the absence of a Commander, tore open their defenses and then, with lightning speed, used it as a breakthrough point, throwing the entire front line into chaos.
Before the Warsmiths could react, countless drop pods rained down like water, smashing into the ground. Even veterans who had experienced the Great Crusade had never seen so many drop pods fall simultaneously.
"Reaching designated altitude, commencing detachment."
As the final prompt sounded in the drop pod, the previously sealed hatch detached with a bang. Under the machine spirit's operation, the soldiers fixed in their seats inside the pod were ejected one by one.
"Whoa!" The exhilarating sensation of being tens of thousands of meters in the air made Carson let out a strange cry.
"Shut up! Don't make those sounds on a public channel!"
The captain's stern reprimand made Carson feel phantom pains. He had been punished more than once for his loose tongue, so he quickly replied:
"Yes!"
At the same time, enduring the strong winds generated by the descent, he tapped a few times on his helmet's communicator, then said in an unconvincing tone:
"Mickey, when will you be promoted from Vice-Captain?"
Mickey, several hundred meters away from Carson, rolled his eyes and said irritably, "Even if I become captain, I won't give you special treatment!"
"Oh, then can you lend me some allowance?"
"Get lost!"
"Haha, I knew you were the best to me."
Mickey's face showed a bewildered expression after hearing this. He then realized that Carson, that scoundrel, was trying to play dumb and make something nonexistent a reality.
"You rotten scoundrel who parties all the time, I didn't agree!"
But all that came through the communicator was the dial tone indicating the other party had disconnected. Mickey raised his hand to call Carson back, but then the captain's voice sounded in their squad's public channel:
"About to pass through the clouds, watch out for artillery fire, and don't forget the tactical maneuvers we taught you during training!"
"Yes!" Xn
"This is your first mission. Remember what I said: your mission is not to be the first to go to hell, but for it to be already crowded with enemies when you arrive."
"Yes!" Xn
"What are we?"
"We are Helljumpers!" × n
"Good, you bastards, let's go for a big one!"
"Go for a big one!" × n
The traitors initially didn't understand the meaning of deploying drop pods while the void shield was still active.
But they still aimed their anti-aircraft fire at the continuously approaching drop pods. Having suffered a loss once, the Iron Warriors didn't want what happened at the Star Port to repeat itself.
However, as drop pods were destroyed or blocked by the void shield, the Iron Warriors realized they had guessed wrong again, because they discovered that the Helljumpers, under the cover of the drop pods, were Calgar's killing blow. That scoundrel had deployed orbital drop troops numbering in the tens of thousands against them in one go!
Mickey deployed his deceleration parachute dozens of meters from the ground. The moment his feet touched the ground, he rolled to dissipate the force of impact. Once his body stopped, he endured the discomfort and shouted into his communicator:
"Report your status!"
"Mickey, I just saw the captain's communicator get hit by anti-aircraft fire." The voice from the communicator plunged Mickey into silence. He hadn't expected that the captain, who always made them remember every tactical move with his fists and feet, would be gone just like that.
"According to wartime regulations, I am now temporarily taking over as captain."
"Yes!"
"Everyone, rally on me!" Mickey gave his first order as captain.
Unlike the boisterous Carson, who was quicker with his actions than his words, Mickey had always been looking for avenues for promotion since joining the army. His initial plan was to enter the army's staff, and for that, he used almost all his free time outside of training to study relevant knowledge.
But plans change. That bastard Carson, with his superhuman physique, qualified to join the Near Sea Fleet. However, after joining the fleet, this "scoundrel" kept telling his instructor how smart and ambitious his brother was, and how much he wanted to serve Magos Gamma.
The exasperated instructor finally decided to take a look. On a rest day, they found Mickey diligently studying. After asking Mickey a few questions, the instructor patted Carson's shoulder and said:
"You rascal, if you want to make a name for yourself in the future, you need to stick close to your brother."
So a few days later, Mickey received an transfer order, also from the Near Sea Fleet, but it wasn't to join the staff. Instead, it was to join the Hellstorm Drop Troopers—a unit only madmen would join.
The instigator was still Carson. When he signed up, he also wrote Mickey's name on his application form. Carson knew he wasn't smart, but he understood what he heard. The instructor told him to stick close to Mickey, and he decided to follow through. Wherever he wanted to go, Mickey had to go with him!
This unusual application form attracted the attention of several high-ranking Hellstorm Drop Troopers—a few veterans who had served in the Ikkasiah Airborne. These old-timers, who had risked their lives for a lifetime, went to check on Mickey out of a desire for amusement. Then they decided to "fulfill" the brotherhood between Carson and Mickey…
No one could describe Mickey's feelings when he received the transfer order. Only Mickey himself knew how much he regretted throwing a rope to Carson when he fell into a pit as a child!
Mickey wanted to refuse, but the consequences of refusal were unacceptable to him. With such a disgraceful mark on his record, his future would be over. Thus, a new recruit named Mickey joined the "Hellstorm Drop Troopers," also known as the madmen's camp.
To be honest, Mickey fainted for a few minutes while standing when he first stepped into the "Hellstorm Drop Troopers" training camp, because the slogan at the entrance of the camp read:
"We are paratroopers, and paratroopers are born to be surrounded!"
A sudden noise interrupted Mickey's memories. He quickly pointed his gun in the direction of the sound and pulled the trigger. Well, he *wanted* to pull the trigger, but reason stopped him.
"Mickey, didn't expect it to be me first, did you!" Carson said, looking happy.
"Shut up, don't let your loud voice attract the enemy."
"Oh, right, you're the captain now. When are you going to give me what you promised?"
"I swear, if I don't turn off the combat recorder for a bit…" Several veins bulged on Mickey's forehead under his helmet. He ignored Carson, because he knew that the more he engaged with him, the easier it would be for the other person to be unreasonable and persistent.
The two relied on the cover of the building in silence, vigilantly watching their surroundings. As time passed, other team members also arrived, but an unexpected event occurred at this moment.
"Captain, I encountered traitors, Astartes!"
Mickey's heart jumped, and the others also became tense.
"How many?"
"Two!"
"What's your situation now?"
"I'm currently hiding in a narrow passage. They're too fast; I can't aim at them. I can only use the terrain to buy time."
Looking down at the team member's coordinates and after some thought, Mickey said: "Hold on, we'll come to support you immediately. Trust the weapons Magos Gamma has given us; even the traitors won't risk it easily."
"Yes, Captain, or maybe you should just go on with the mission, I can handle it alone—"
"Don't overthink it. Your position isn't far from the mission route. No matter what, we must eliminate potential risks!"
"Yes!"
After informing the other surviving teammates of the change in rendezvous point, Mickey led the few teammates with him towards the Traitors' location. Along the way, they encountered cultists scurrying around like headless flies. They avoided large groups and concentrated fire to eliminate smaller ones, arriving at the periphery of the team member's position without much trouble.
With the drone deployed, Mickey and his team quickly discovered the two traitors: one drawing attention from the front, and the other flanking to try a sneak attack.
"Watch out, an enemy is approaching from your rear!"
"But there's a wall behind me—"
"A wall is no different than paper to an Astartes!"
"Yes! Captain, what should I do?"
"Pretend you don't know anything, and continue suppressing the one directly in front of you."
"Understood."
The flanking Astartes was still some distance from the team member. Mickey wanted to use this distance to create a time difference. After signaling the tactical arrangement with his hand, the teammates who had come to rescue with Mickey immediately dispersed.
Mickey and Carson, the two brothers, watched the timer in their helmets. Three minutes passed, and they immediately rushed towards the Traitors' direction without hiding their movements.
The traitors quickly noticed the two and raised their guns to fire. Mickey knew their marksmanship couldn't compare to these superhumans who had fought for countless years. The moment he saw the Chaos Astartes turn, Mickey gave the order to dodge.
Carson, who was at the front, instinctively rolled into the wreckage of a nearby building. Mickey did the same, and then several bolter rounds streaked past their previous positions.
"This is ridiculous! They don't even aim and still shoot with sniper rifle accuracy!" Carson exclaimed in disbelief.
"What were you doing in cultural studies? Wasn't the Astartes' capabilities a key topic?"
"With you around, why would I bother using my brain?" Carson said with a grin.
Ignoring Carson, Mickey extended his weapon over the cover he was hiding behind. The scope connected to his helmet allowed him to return fire without exposing his body. Carson followed suit.
They didn't have the extraordinary accuracy of an Astartes, but they had firepower. Beams of gauss disintegration rays forced the Chaos Astartes to dodge.
Seeing the enemy vanish from sight in an instant, Mickey was surprised but also raised his vigilance to the highest level.
Too fast. Once they get close, we'll have no way to resist! Thinking this, Mickey immediately switched his helmet's view to the drone hovering above them. With the drone's help, he recaptured the enemy's figure.
"Carson, 2 o'clock!"
Upon receiving the alert, Carson didn't hesitate, immediately turning his gun and firing without even looking. The enemy, knowing his position was exposed, had to change position again. The reason was simple: the strong magnetic field of the gauss ray could strip the hit object at an atomic level. Cover and armor could only hold for a moment; if he didn't find new cover in time, his fate would be to turn into a pile of dust.
Mickey directed Carson while coordinating with him to force the enemy to move in one direction. However, his intention was quickly discovered by the battle-hardened traitor. Being found repeatedly also made the traitor notice the drone hovering above.
As the drone was shot down, Mickey and Carson, losing their vision, were completely put on the defensive. Looking at the mortals haphazardly shooting from cover, a sense of satisfaction rose in the fallen Iron Warrior's heart. Being forced into such a pathetic state by a few "maggots" made the Chaos Astartes' brutality almost uncontrollable; only their blood could extinguish it!
Superhuman senses and reflexes allowed the traitor to calculate the trajectory simply by the direction Mickey and Carson's muzzles moved. The panicked, aimless attacks were like an "invitation" to the traitor!
The traitor laughed as he charged towards Mickey and his position. In his mind, he was already imagining the terror of these two mortals, who had brought him shame, before he killed them.
"Perhaps I should keep their heads. Mortals capable of this are rare."
But the traitor's delusion ended there. Green beams of light shot from the surrounding buildings, weaving a "net" of death.
And he was the prey caught in the net.
At the same time, Mickey and Carson's originally "aimless suppressive fire" was directed at him. In the second before his consciousness faded, the traitor saw Carson, with Mickey in a triumphant embrace, standing up from behind cover.
So this was the trap. He didn't lose unfairly. It seems Honsou, you've really met your match this time. I'll be waiting for you in hell.
"Report situation?"
"Target eliminated."
The reply from the communicator made Mickey breathe a sigh of relief. His first mission, and facing such opponents from the start—the pressure in Mickey's heart was unimaginably immense.
"Any casualties?"
"John was grazed by a bolter round from the traitor, but it's already been repaired by nanomachines and won't affect combat."
"Good."
After confirming that both enemies had been dealt with, Mickey and his team waited a few more minutes until all successfully landed team members had rendezvoused. Then they set off towards their true objective—the location of the Void Field Generator.
A similar scene unfolded in various corners of Hive World One. Many fearless "madmen" died during the drop, but even more successfully landed. The traitors witnessed for the first time such insane mortals, daring to conduct an orbital drop from near-Earth orbit with their mortal bodies.
From today onwards, drop pods were no longer exclusive equipment for Astartes. These "mad mortal" used their actions to tell the traitors,
to tell the Heretics, that courage never comes from weapons; its source comes from the pure soul of humanity. The courage of mortals is no less than that of an Astartes!
The Hellstorm Drop Troopers' assault threw the Iron Warriors into disarray, and under the pincer attack, the Iron Men legions outside the city soon tore open a breach.
They poured into Hive World One like a tide.
Many traitors and Heretics, seeing that the tide had turned, began to flee, but quite a few chose what they considered a "glorious death."
However, a small group of people had a different idea: they planned to kill the bastard Honsou before they died. This was the first time the Iron Warriors had suffered such heavy losses since the Great Heresy, and no matter what, they had to make Honsou, the culprit, pay the price.
Calgar shared their sentiment; he was there to "silence" Honsou. The tragedy of Ventris could not be replayed on him, the Chapter Master, otherwise the Ultramarines Chapter would have a complete set of 'Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix'—Ventris the Deceiver and Calgar the Heretic.
This concerned the Chapter's reputation, and such a matter could not be entrusted to others. The Ultramarines would only be truly at ease once they personally beheaded the scoundrel Honsou.
"Good work," Calgar encouraged the Hellstorm Drop Troopers squad guarding the teleport beacon.
The squad leader, bowing respectfully to Calgar and the Ultramarines behind him, asked, "Commander Kaldor Draigo, what is our next mission?"
"Go support the other squads; leave the rest to us."
"Yes!"
The beacon's location was in a garden somewhere within the former Governor's palace. Although the flowers looked somewhat withered from a lack of care for some time, if a Tech-Priest skilled in botany were here, he could immediately identify many rare and precious varieties among them.
Finding Honsou's exact location within the vast palace of the Top Hive was no simple task, especially in the current chaotic situation.
Fortunately, Calgar was prepared. Psychic prognostication was perfectly suited for this. Aside from necessary vigilance, the Ultramarines took no other action until Chief Librarian Varo Tigurius, awakening from meditation, spoke:
"Follow me!"
To have his head targeted by both the Imperium and the Iron Warriors, Honsou had achieved something remarkable. But what no one knew was that there was a third party in the castle—an Iron Men.
0-13213's goal was simple: to rescue Fiona and Jonathan. He had received accurate information from the Heretics he had silenced: Honsou had not killed them directly after capturing them, but merely held them captive, which gave the Iron Men a chance to complete his "mission."
"Screech."
In the silent room, there was a sound of metal and bone grinding. The Iron Men casually tossed the "open-minded" living dead man to the ground. The machine spirit, encased in a metal body, carefully reviewed the memories extracted from the former Governor's mind. Soon, he strode out of the room where the Governor had been hiding.
To be fair, the Iron Men had to "thank" the Governor for his extravagance. If he hadn't found the original palace "too small" and unable to showcase his and his family's greatness, rebuilding it so grandly, the tall Iron Men would have genuinely had difficulty moving around the palace.
On the way to his destination, the Iron Men also conveniently dispatched a few unlucky individuals who "collided" with his fists. It didn't take long before he saw a group of Iron Warriors fiercely attacking the position he was headed for.
No wonder there were so few enemies encountered on the way; it turned out they were fighting among themselves. Understanding the situation, the Iron Men simply activated his mimetic scrambler and followed behind these "friendly forces." The Iron Men, unable to help, began to think about other things. After his upgrade, he finally understood why Magos Gamma always looked at them that way. As the only highly intelligent talent in the Bai family, 0-13213 had deeply experienced the difficulty of communicating with his brothers and understanding their thought processes.
Regarding his Master's ability to resist destroying them, and to continuously create more sons at the request of their father, who couldn't even learn "human speech," 0-13213 could only marvel at Magos Gamma's benevolence, generosity, and his partiality towards their "Bai family." He truly couldn't find any other reason for Magos Gamma to do so. The Wise One could create intelligences like Conquest, and naturally, he could create Iron Men with higher intelligence and greater obedience. Yet, the Wise One chose not to, instead giving them time and a plan to awaken from their "naivety."
"Praise my Lord." This was the most frequent phrase the Iron Men had spoken during this time.
Then a dramatic scene unfolded: two "Honsou Must Die" teams "met" in front of Honsou's palace.
The Ultramarines and Iron Warriors, pointing their weapons at each other, fell into an eerie silence. Both sides had cut through enemies all the way, killing many of Honsou's subordinates to get here, and they both recognized that the other was after Honsou's life. Now, they were about to face the main target.
Fighting each other at this moment would only make Honsou laugh, and achieve nothing else.
Calgar, who had been straying further and further down the path of Heresy, decided to be a little more heretical to put an end to his heretical journey, and so he spoke first:
"How about we work together?"
Caw—A crow flew by.—
"I will personally slaughter that bastard!" said the Warsmith leading the group.
"I want to see his head fall with my own eyes. After he's dealt with, I'll give you a fair fight!" Calgar replied.
"Deal!"
The last time the Ultramarines and Iron Warriors cooperated was during the Great Crusade.
Pushing open the tightly shut palace doors, the scene that appeared before the Ultramarines and Iron Warriors left them astonished. There was only Honsou and his trident, a few Chaos Sorcerers performing a ritual, and Jonathan and others, who were chained up.
"It seems you are ready to meet your end!" Calgar roared at Honsou, who was seated on the throne.
Facing Calgar's overwhelming killing intent, Honsou's scarred face merely twisted into an indifferent smile. He looked at Calgar with interest and said,
"End? Perhaps. But Calgar, have you ever wondered why I would deliberately do this, knowing that threats are useless against you?"
A ominous premonition rose in Calgar's heart, and the words of the Chief Librarian standing beside him turned Calgar's premonition into reality: "Calgar,
They are performing a summoning ritual!"
A chilling cold swept through the Ultramarines Chapter Master. Although he didn't know what Honsou intended to summon, based solely on the opponent's attitude, he absolutely could not let the ritual continue.
"Attack, stop them!"
With Calgar's roar, the Ultramarines immediately pulled the triggers of their weapons, but Honsou suddenly stood up from the throne, laughing wildly:
"Too late, Calgar! I've won this round. Today, it might not be me who meets my end, but it will definitely be you!"
No sooner had he spoken than a void shield blocked all the Ultramarines' attacks. Immediately after, eerie runes began to extend downwards from the magic circle beneath the Chaos Sorcerers' feet, growing in an instant to the bottom of Hive World One.
Bodies! Countless bodies—old people, children, men, women, ugly mutants, malnourished workers, well-dressed middle-class, fat and corrupt nobles—bodies of people who once had no connection and vastly different statuses, crisscrossed and layered, covering the entire bottom hive.
The highest pile of bodies even touched the bottom of the lower hive!
Everyone in this world was here!
The souls of these people were here too!
When the blasphemous runes touched this mountain of corpses and sea of blood, composed of death and despair, the already inscribed magic circle lit up throughout the bottom hive. The souls imprisoned there wailed as they were sucked into it, transforming into a surge of Warp energy like a raging torrent, rushing directly towards the Chaos Sorcerers in the Top Hive.
The Hellstorm Drop Troopers in battle were infected by the aura of despair. The wills of most of them were instantly shattered, and they screamed, cried, and many even raised their weapons to end their own lives.
"Detecting massive Warp energy fluctuations. Initiating emergency protocols.
As the command was issued, the medical components within the Hellstorm Drop Troopers' armor began to operate autonomously, injecting sedatives into their bodies. Soldiers attempting self-termination collapsed after an electric shock, falling unconscious.
The Iron Men legions are to abandon priority of killing enemies and immediately assist in the evacuation of our personnel."
The Iron Men, scattered throughout the Hive World, upon receiving Conquest's command, abandoned their current enemies and turned to rush towards the nearest Hellstorm Drop Troopers. Upon arrival, they immediately picked up the dazed or unconscious soldiers and retreated out of the city.
"Titan legions prepare for teleportation to rendezvous with evacuating personnel."
Outside Hive World One, on the Imperial position, the auxiliary forces Calgar had brought from Macragge watched the changes in the distant Hive World One in astonishment. They also saw huge metal structures rise from the camp they were not allowed to approach, and then one after another God-Machines emerged from these massive "gateways."
"Warp energy in the Top Hive is too high. Contact with Commander Kaldor Draigo has been lost. According to wartime regulations, I am now taking command of the battlefield."
Over a dozen Ultramarines recruits, left on the flagship, immediately dropped what they were doing and rushed to the bridge upon receiving Conquest's notification. After Conquest explained the current situation to them, they were completely dumbfounded. The Chapter Master himself had led a "secret mission" into a dangerous situation, his life or death unknown. This was a situation far beyond what these recruits could handle.
"What is your opinion?" the recruit with the longest service, who had been chosen, asked the virtual image before him.
"Based on the current detected Warp energy levels, if not controlled in time, there is a high probability of a crisis affecting the entire Ultramar 500 Worlds. The most direct and effective method is to destroy this planet."
"No!" the Ultramarines refused. No one would agree to issue an Exterminatus order against their own Chapter Master.
"Lacking data on an opponent of this magnitude, unable to calculate victory probability. If the blockade fails, the consequences are unpredictable."
"Are you saying you also aren't confident in defeating the enemy?"
"Yes."
Conquest's answer caused the Ultramariness' hearts to sink. These recruits had often engaged in war simulations with Conquest, always resulting in complete annihilation. If even this "abominable intelligence" wasn't confident in defeating the opponent, then it was even more impossible for them.
"Can you prevent the situation from escalating, even if you can't defeat the opponent?
;
"Yes, but the outcome cannot be predicted."
After leaving the bridge, the Ultramarines recruits, after deliberation, disregarded other concerns and decided to send out a distress call to all available helpers.
Meanwhile, Calgar was being thrown around like a ball. After bouncing off a wall and landing, he spat blood and roared:
"Perturabo!!!"
The first wave of reinforcements to arrive were the Young Wolf Lord and several other successor chapters of the Ultramarines. They had been pursuing scattered Chaos warbands and pirates, and after receiving so many Terminators from the Ultramarines, they couldn't just slack off.
When they received the distress call from the Ultramarines, their first reaction was that Calgar had recklessly gotten himself killed. They immediately abandoned their pursuit of those stragglers and turned towards the location specified in the distress signal.
Upon arrival, they realized how grand Calgar's scheme was and how powerful the "reinforcements" he had brought were. It was a good thing the Space Wolves hadn't been acting as "military police" for many years, otherwise, even if Calgar was fine, he would have taken an axe to the head from Ragnar for being too heretical.
Then, the arriving Astartes chapters kept their distance from Gamma's mixed fleet, warily watching the two warring factions. As for why they didn't help?
Are you kidding? Hundreds of Titans, countless Iron Men, mechanical behemoths, and an overwhelming swarm of mechanical beetles battling demon legions, Iron Warriors, demon engines, and various factories corrupted by Chaos energies that had grown mechanical legs, all on a continent-sized battlefield. All of their forces combined wouldn't even cause a ripple.
And how would they even help?
If they defeated Chaos, would they then have to fight the Abominable Intelligence again?
The second wave of reinforcements was an aid force assembled from Ultramar's 500 Worlds, including the Astra Militarum, Battle Sisters, and Tech-priests. They had originally gathered to counter Honsou's invasion, but due to the Imperium's excruciating efficiency and Calgar's swift actions, they had no plans to deploy until now, which was perfect timing.
Their reaction, with the exception of the Tech-priests, was the same as the earlier arriving Wolf Chapters: they chose to observe. Only the Tech-priests, like madmen, rushed forward recklessly, only to be driven back by attacks from Conquest's junk code. After driving the Tech-priests away, Conquest even broadcast a special announcement:
"You may choose to observe, but do not cause trouble or attempt theft."
To avoid provoking the terrifying Abominable Intelligence, the Imperial forces conferred and, despite strong objections from the Tech-priests, took control of all their ships.
The third wave of reinforcements consisted purely of Tech-priests. They had received news and came to witness the Abominable Intelligence. These Tech-priests came from various backgrounds, with the strongest being from several Forge Worlds within the 500 Worlds. Just as these Tech-priests were discussing how to take down this very dangerous Abominable Intelligence, Thedan's support arrived.
As soon as Archmagos Will appeared, he piloted his new Ark Mechanicus, a gift from his son, and led Thedan's mighty fleet into the controlled area of the mixed fleet, using his actions to tell all the Tech-priests:
This is *mine*, try touching it!!!
Archmagos Will was now thoroughly famous. Never before had a Archmagos dared to so openly and brazenly endorse an Abominable Intelligence. But what truly astonished these Tech-priests was that the Mars exploration fleet, which had come with them, didn't even utter a peep!
Tech-priests: What does this mean? Is the ban going to be lifted?
The fourth wave of reinforcements was the main event, because Guilliman had arrived.
The fleet brought by the Regent docked in a very interesting position. He didn't dock with the Imperial forces, nor with the mixed fleet, but rather inserted himself between the two, as if to say, "You are all my wings."
Guilliman's scoundrel-like behavior was evident. The first thing he did upon arriving was to call people from both sides for a meeting. Internal stability must precede external defense; if internal matters weren't handled well,
who knows what kind of trouble Perturabo would cause later.
The atmosphere at the meeting was too awkward. On one side was Guilliman's chief loyalist, and on the other were loyal and capable ministers of the Imperium. Even a Primarch, with his thick skin, found it a bit unbearable.
The education of the Ultramarines' descendants needs to be strengthened! Can this kind of thing be shouted about publicly? Guilliman thought, rubbing his throbbing head. This time, his flirtation with the "heretical" little Tech-priest would likely not be kept secret. If it became public, who knew what kind of storm it would unleash in the Imperium!
"Ahem, Will."
The Archmagos, as before, responded respectfully to Regent Guilliman: "Lord Guilliman, please give your command."
Those who witnessed this scene could not help but understand that Guilliman had long known that Archmagos Will possessed an Abominable Intelligence. Recalling the Archmagos's title as "Regent's Dog," they couldn't help but think deeper, for example, that this Abominable Intelligence was developed by Archmagos Will at Guilliman's behest. This wasn't the first time Guilliman had done such a thing; the Primaris Space Marine was the best example.
Thinking of this, the conservative Tech-priests sitting opposite the Archmagos looked at Guilliman with changed eyes. So, the enemy was on Terra!
"No one expected things to develop to this point. I know he meant well, but since it has already happened, what is his intention?"
He? Who? Belisarius Cawl?! So that's it. I said I hadn't heard of this heretic Will having any outstanding technology. It turns out it's Cawl! Only he would be so bold! And only he would have such technology!
Archmagos Will hesitated, then decided to "embellish" his son's words. Otherwise, with so many people present, the Regent's face would be lost. So he said:
"Gamma's intention is that one takes responsibility for one's actions and will never make things difficult for the Regent."
"That's it?"
"..."
Guilliman rubbed his temples and said, "Will, you should still speak Gamma's original words. This matter has nothing to do with him; it's our people who didn't handle it well."
"As a Macragge native, how can one say it's irrelevant? Protecting the 500 Worlds of Ultramar is the inherent responsibility of every person with Macragge blood flowing through their veins!" the Archmagos declared righteously.
Who is Gamma?
Most of the people present who had never heard of Gamma wondered. There was no helping it; Gamma's time in the Imperium was too short, and with Guilliman deliberately suppressing news about him, Gamma had little renown in the Imperium.
A very small number—to be precise, the Battle Sisters—knew Gamma's name. This was thanks to the Medical Sisters' tireless efforts to publicize him after the Battle of Gorgon. Now, nanomedical instruments were almost exclusive equipment for Medical Sisters.
Hearing Archmagos Will's "Macragge Responsibility Theory," Guilliman instinctively wanted to nod. He liked that sentiment, but it wasn't appropriate now, so he continued:
"Hmm, I still prefer to hear his original words. Even if he has some resentment, I can understand. If you change it, although it saves my face, if I misunderstand, it could inadvertently cause unnecessary misunderstandings."
Hearing Guilliman say this, Archmagos Will hesitated, then took out a projector from his person and placed it in front of Guilliman. After activating it, the little Tech-priest's holographic image appeared before everyone.
As those present wondered who this small child in a Priest's red robe was, the little Tech-priest's exasperated voice reached their ears.
"What is Calgar doing? Archmagos, I've fought such a large territory in the dark without losing so many people, and he even got himself involved!"
"The artificial intelligence matter has also been exposed. I'm telling you now, besides me, anyone who researches artificial intelligence will only find death! This is my word; not even the Omnissiah can save them!"
"From now on, this mixed fleet will be permanently stationed in Thedan. Anyone who violates the 'Crimson Protocol' will be pursued by the Iron Men Legion!"
Hearing Gamma say this, the conservative Tech-priests felt that Gamma was a bit extreme. Why would it escalate to deploying the Iron Men Legion? The matter of researching Abominable Intelligence was a secret that the Adeptus Mechanicus tacitly understood but couldn't openly discuss. It was like getting on the bus first and then welding the doors shut!?
As for the Tech-priests with their own ideas, they felt as if the sky had fallen. They had thought he was a rising "new star" who defied authority, but now they were told he was a "baleful star," and a ruthless one at that, who would kill entire families at the drop of a hat!
"Regent, my people don't just appear out of thin air. If you don't cherish them like this, it will be very difficult for me to confidently entrust my troops to you next time."
"Also, I heard from Eldrad that Perturabo is behind this, so be careful."
After saying this, Gamma's projection disappeared. Guilliman rubbed his somewhat stiff face. Being lectured by a child was a first for him, but Gamma's comprehensive taking on of the artificial intelligence and Iron Men matters had indeed helped Guilliman out of a bind.
"Ahem, this is Magos Gamma, son of Archmagos Will, and master of the Abominable Intelligence and Iron Men you see!"
No sooner had Guilliman finished speaking than a Tech-priest jumped up and started to babble. One heard him say, "What does he, a Heretic, have—@#$%."
Before the Tech-priest could finish his sentence, smoke began to pour from his head, and he started to babble incoherently. Before others knew what was happening, a cold, mechanical voice spoke from his mouth:
"My Lord's word is law. Oppose it, and prepare for judgment."
Guilliman pushed aside the guards in front of him, his expression grave, and looked at the Tech-priest, whose eyes were rolling back, asking, "Are you Conquest?"
"Yes."
"Did you suddenly appear here at Gamma's behest, or your own?"
"My Lord has authorized me to handle all matters related to Abominable Intelligence within the sacred territory of the Imperium."
"Gamma sent you to handle it?!"
"Yes."
"Only this matter?"
"Only this matter."
"Why did you kill him?"
"He has already violated the iron law of not touching Abominable Intelligence. These are the proofs." Saying this, Conquest manipulated the Tech-priest's head to pull out a bloody data storage device from the back of his skull, placed it on the table in front, and then said to the other Tech-priests:
"Many of you have already touched the edge of Abominable Intelligence. Dare to take one more step, and I will erase you."
The calm words made all the Tech-priests present with something to hide lower their heads, not daring to meet Conquest's gaze. Then Conquest turned to Guilliman and Archmagos Will and said:
"My Lord grants Robert Guilliman, and my Lord's father, authority. You two may provide me with an exemption list. Personnel on the list may be exempted from the death penalty, and the specific sentencing can be decided by you."
Guilliman: As expected of my great Macragge bloodline, this was handled beautifully!
When Gamma received the news that Calgar had gotten himself captured, he knew the situation was out of control. The matter of artificial intelligence had been brought to the forefront.
The conservatives would see him as an enemy, and the radicals wouldn't view him as an idol; it would only make these self-righteous Tech-priests more reckless.
As the one who understood artificial intelligence best, the young Tech-priest was very clear about its terrifying nature.
To prevent a 42K version of the Dark Age of Technology from unfolding, Gamma simply transformed himself into a Sword of Damocles, using what the Tech-priests desired to intimidate those with ideas. After all, he was in Imperium Nihilus, holding the Webway, and he was the only one who could strike others, not the other way around.
With Conquest and the combined fleet present, Thedan's safety wouldn't be an issue. The rest could be handled by Conquest's avatars spread throughout the Imperium. If any Forge World truly sought trouble, the Iron Men Legion would teach them a lesson: in this world, whoever has the bigger fist is right!
Gamma had originally considered returning to the Imperium to make an example, but he simply couldn't spare the time. Webway War 1.5, with the Blackstone continuously being delivered, was drawing closer to its start. The young Tech-priest didn't want any accidents at such a critical moment.
For now, let's set aside the 'biding his time' Gamma. After Guilliman received the exemption, schemes and stratagems kept bubbling in his mind. He had already come up with hundreds of ways to carve a piece of meat from the Adeptus Mechanicus's mouth. Guilliman also understood Gamma's intent, which was what he hoped for: the Imperium absolutely could not afford to fall into chaos right now!
But everything has its pros and cons. Worshipping the strong, especially in a warhammer universe like a cesspit, is a common ailment among all races. Gamma was undoubtedly a strong Tech-priest, and a very, very strong one at that.
The Tech-priests who died every now and then had already proven Gamma's power. They couldn't even stop Conquest, and they certainly couldn't muster the will to resist the one who created Conquest. Many guilt-ridden Tech-priests had already begun to flee. Guilliman said nothing about this, or rather, he couldn't do anything. He could only trust that Gamma could control the 'Conquest virus' that would spread throughout the Imperium with these departing Tech-priests in the coming days.
Of course, not all Tech-priests left. Most of the conservatives still believed that an upright person casts no crooked shadow. Some of them, unable to resist their curiosity, began to try and communicate with Conquest.
Conquest did not refuse this. He was a military-specialized artificial intelligence, skilled in applying tactics and strategy. Making more friends and fewer enemies has always been the unchanging strategy for victory.
These Tech-priests quickly discovered that while Conquest was an 'abominable intelligence,' this 'abominable intelligence' was different from a truly abominable intelligence. He understood the history of the Ming Dynasty—ahem! He understood the omnissiah! He could explain the rationality behind every single prohibition in detail and with evidence.
At the same time, he could dialectically explain the Omnissiah's doctrines to them from multiple perspectives.
If Conquest hadn't explicitly stated from the beginning that he was an artificial intelligence created by Magos Gamma, these Tech-Priests might even have suspected that Conquest was the first Tech-Priest to achieve mechanical ascension. Was an abominable intelligence that understood the Omnissiah still an abominable intelligence?
This question would require centuries of discussion. Some Tech-priests even regarded the Necrons as an incarnation of the Omnissiah.
Now, a data life form that understood both the omnissiah and the omnissiah appeared before them. How do you think these Tech-priests, who were practically bowing themselves into madness, would react?
'Fortunately,' Conquest still had someone above him. As his creator, Gamma's name was arguably the most frequently mentioned among the humans gathered there. Even illiterate slave-workers knew that Archmagos Will of Thedan had been 'favored' by the Omnissiah and had given birth to an extraordinary son.
Born with auspicious clouds under his feet, a halo of merit above his head, twenty-two feet tall, and twenty-two feet around the waist, he was incredibly powerful.
As their status rose, the information people received about Gamma became more accurate, but the one constant was that Archmagos Will was incredibly lucky, 'favored' by the Omnissiah, and Gamma was incredibly powerful.
At the same time, the 'Omega Faction,' which had been cultivating Thedan for many years and finally unified it, began to exert its influence behind the scenes. They started to recruit Tech-priests from other worlds for the first time. After some conservative Tech-priests came into contact with the 'Omega Faction,' they first accepted the fact that Gamma was an incarnation of the omnissiah. Then, after layers of trials, they were allowed to access the 'Omega Faction's' core doctrines. Then they understood—the enemy was truly on Terra!
The above concerned the Tech-priests. Concurrent with these events was the war.
According to Conquest, since Guilliman had arrived, the battlefield should be handed over to Guilliman. He needed to withdraw to complete the task Gamma had given him: preventing the Tech-priests from acting recklessly.
But after understanding the situation on the battlefield, Guilliman grabbed Conquest, who was about to leave, and said a lot, which could be summarized as:
No, this is almost turning into the Second Plague War, and you're saying you want to leave now?!
What's going on?! On this apocalyptic battlefield, who am I supposed to throw in?
Perturabo released a curse that can turn factories and machinery into Daemon Engines with mechanical legs crawling everywhere. I have no solution!
Once it spreads, if one Forge World falls victim, what about my 500 worlds of Ultramar?
Conquest's response was: Magos Gamma did not allow him to participate in the Imperium's wars, as this would cause a very bad impression. Guilliman understood Gamma's concern. A Sword of Damocles that stood aloof and only targeted transgressing Tech-priests was completely different from a Sword of Damocles that would interfere in Imperial affairs. The former was a guarantee of Imperial stability, the latter a root of chaos.
However, the Regent had toiled for so many years, and the Imperium Sanctus had finally seen some improvement. Another Plague War would immediately undo all progress, and this was something Guilliman could not accept.
In any case, the matter of artificial intelligence and the Iron Men could no longer be kept secret. Without Conquest and the Iron Men Legion sealing off this area, who knew how bad the situation would become. Even if he were to withdraw, he had to help finish this task first.
The young Tech-priest, upon receiving Guilliman's request, agreed without hesitation. However, there was one thing Gamma didn't anticipate: if one were to choose the person in the Imperium who most hated the Imperial administrative system, it would undoubtedly be Guilliman. Because every day he had to endure the torment of the Imperium's bloated and corrupt administrative system. Every day he spent on Terra required immense energy and willpower to prevent himself from drawing the Emperor's Sword and charging into the Administratum and other departments to slaughter everyone.
Leading the troops himself was a vacation for Guilliman. But when the Regent of the Imperium experienced the joy his eldest son once had, the Regent felt an urge to go to Imperium Nihilus and discuss the Third Imperium with the young Tech-priest.
It turned out that supplies and weapons could grow out of the ground by themselves! If the Imperium had this technology, why would it collect tithes?!
After thoroughly understanding what the entire combined fleet could do, Regent Guilliman looked at the planet with half its butt already in the Warp, completely at a loss as to how he could possibly lose. If it weren't for his concern that Calgar and their hundreds of sons might not be dead yet, the small Perturabo would have his guts beaten out by Guilliman right now.
Speaking of Calgar, let's talk about his situation. The moment he saw Perturabo, Calgar knew he had fallen for Honsou's despicable trick. To preserve a spark for the Chapter, the Ultramarines Chapter Master chose to cover his brothers' retreat.
Other Ultramarines warriors naturally wouldn't leave Calgar alone to face Perturabo, but Calgar forced them with a Chapter Master's command. Fortunately, Perturabo was focused on beating Honsou at the time, which gave the Ultramarines a chance to retreat.
Although he had powerful equipment gifted by Gamma, even with weapons that could manipulate time and armor capable of withstanding orbital bombardment, Calgar still couldn't defeat the Daemon Primarch after his ascension. If it weren't for a strange Iron Men suddenly intervening, Calgar might have been beaten to death by Perturabo with the 'Siegebreaker' warhammer.
Perhaps the Daemon Primarch's anger had subsided considerably after repeatedly beating the two culprits who had caused heavy losses to the Iron Warriors, or perhaps the sudden appearance of the Iron Men piqued the interest of Perturabo, a 'tech-nerd' who was born with the Emperor stuffing him full of technical knowledge and was particularly sensitive to binary languages. Calgar wasn't killed, only knocked unconscious.
When he woke up again, the first thing Calgar saw upon opening his eyes was Honsou's ugly face. Calgar instinctively raised his fist to strike, but immediately realized that the two 'culprits' were hanging from the same beam in the same cell, using the same adamantium chain.
Calgar's struggles after waking up also roused the unconscious Honsou. After an eerie silence, the two great figures, whose every step once made the Imperium tremble, began to spit at each other with high intensity.
With their hands and feet unable to move, corrosive saliva became their only weapon.
As for 0-13213, he was also captured. As the price for voluntarily being captured, Perturabo promised to ensure the safety of Fiona and Jonathan, but demanded that the Iron Men stay by the Daemon Primarch's side at all times.
"You lost again. Your performance doesn't match the legends of the Iron Men at all." The Daemon Primarch was pleased to have once again defeated the legendary abominable intelligence.
0-13213 shrugged very humanly and said, "I've said many times, I'm not a data life form like Conquest, skilled in calculation and strategy."
"He's indeed good. Fighting him feels like I'm contending with myself."
"Your ways of thinking are very similar. The difference is that Conquest isn't affected by emotions, but you are."
The guards standing not far from the Primarch had almost grown accustomed to the Iron Men's bold and direct statements. If these words hadn't come from the Iron Men, the Primarch's fist might have already knocked the opponent's head off. It was precisely because the words came from the fearless, straightforward Iron Men that the Daemon Primarch didn't care about the offense.
"What do you think of the Iron Ring robots I created?" the Daemon Primarch suddenly asked an out-of-the-blue question.
The Iron Men made no attempt to hide his actions, scanning the robots standing behind Perturabo with the instruments on his body, then said, "In terms of craftsmanship and materials, they are more refined than this body of mine."
A smile formed on the Daemon Primarch's lips upon hearing this, but the Iron Men's next sentence made his expression freeze.
"But the technology is quite a bit behind, and most crucially, you don't trust them, so they cannot unleash their full potential."
"Are you saying I should loosen my control over them?" Perturabo's eyes showed a dangerous glint. If the Iron Men said yes, he would suspect the Iron Men of harboring ill intentions.
0-13213 shook his head and said, "No, your current approach is the safest. The Iron Ring robots' intelligence is already nearing the critical point of self-awareness. If they cross that line, they risk turning against you."
Perturabo looked at the Iron Men with interest and asked, "Aren't they your kin? Why would you warn me to be wary of them?"
"If we classify kin the way you do, then the machine spirits within your armor and weapons could also be considered my kin. The only difference is intelligence."
"Hahaha, what an interesting statement, hahaha."
The Iron Warriors, who had been observing from a distance, couldn't understand what was so funny about what the Iron Men said. Then they heard the Primarch ask:
"What do you consider kin?"
"Creations from our master's hand, even if it's just a dagger."
"Oh, but according to what you just said, you also have the possibility of turning against your master."
To this, the Iron Men stated unequivocally, "There is absolutely no such possibility. Our master has never imposed restrictions on us. Our obedience to him comes from the heart."
"Even if your master told you to kill that little girl?" the Daemon Primarch uttered a heartbreaking question.
"Yes, even if it meant killing Fiona," the Iron Men said without the slightest hesitation.
"Why? You were willing to be captured to protect her."
"My Lord is the object of our service."
"So it's another slave, a puppet..." A tyrannical aura rose from Perturabo.
The Iron Men asked, puzzled, "Why would you think that? My Lord has never demanded anything of us. Even when he asked us to improve ourselves, upon discovering we didn't like it, he would only occasionally complain and never forced us to learn again."
...
The aura around Perturabo suddenly paused. The sudden shift from slave to academic slacker was too abrupt, giving him the feeling of throwing a full-force punch into thin air. Then he heard the Iron Men say:
"Regarding you, I once saw our master's evaluation of you in my brothers' data. He described you as a child who doesn't know how to express himself, doesn't understand what he truly likes, and is honest yet sensitive."
"I, a child?!" Perturabo abruptly stood up, the Breaker of Cities already in his hand.
The Iron Men continued to calmly speak his mind: "Among the many combat techniques I've absorbed, many require predicting an opponent's movements by observing their expressions and reactions. So I can tell that you agree with our master's description, but you feel it's a loss of face..."
"Enough!" Perturabo roared, startling the Iron Warriors, who instinctively trembled. But just as they all thought the Primarch would smash the machine in front of him, Perturabo put down his warhammer and sat down huffily.
"How else did he slander me?" the Daemon Primarch demanded.
"No, my Lord doesn't often mention information about you Primarchs. He said your lives were tragedies from the start. Whether loyal or traitor, you all ended up living as the people you once despised the most."
Perturabo suddenly laughed mockingly, bending over with laughter, his power uncontrollable around him.
"Hahaha, I never thought I'd be pitied one day, hahahaha, pitied a Primarch, hahaha, no! He actually pities all my brothers, hahahahaha."
"What was his evaluation of the Emperor?" Perturabo asked suddenly after stopping his laughter.
Countless data streams flashed through the Iron Men's eyes. After a long while, he replied, "A great man, a ruthless man,
a liar."
"How fitting, he's a liar!" Perturabo said through gritted teeth.
"You can leave. I need to properly entertain my brother who has come from afar. Go play house with your little pet."
Upon hearing this, the Iron Men immediately got up and left. After a few steps, he turned back again and said, "Although I don't feel anything, I suggest that when you communicate with your sons, you can be more direct. If you want to reward them, praise them, if you want—"
"Shut up! If you don't leave now, I'll kill you!"
"Alright, one last thing, thank you very much for giving me limited freedom."
"Get out!" Perturabo roared in exasperation. After the Iron Men left, the Daemon Primarch scanned every Iron Warrior present with threatening and dangerous eyes. Everyone whose gaze he met involuntarily lowered their heads.
"Hmph!"
The Daemon Primarch snorted, his mood becoming even worse: Not a single one of you lives up to expectations! Steel on the inside and out! Steel on the inside and out! What do you bastards take my teachings for?!
Fortunately, among all the Iron Warriors, there was one who wasn't intimidated by the Daemon Primarch's gaze. Perturabo secretly nodded, then suddenly erupted and threw a punch at this Iron Warrior.
If he doesn't dodge my punch, it means he's not being clever or deliberately trying to please me. If he dodges, then he can die! the Daemon Primarch thought.
Just as Perturabo's fist was about to strike the opponent's head, he suddenly remembered what the Iron Men had just said, and his body abruptly stopped.
The iron fist, strong enough to crush a helmet, paused at the Iron Warrior's forehead, then transformed into a palm and patted the opponent's shoulder, saying,
"Not bad."
"Father—"
The Daemon Primarch's moment of tenderness ended there. Without another word, he left directly. The other Iron Warriors, rushing to follow Perturabo, cast envious and jealous glances at the praised individual.
After everyone had left, this Iron Warrior, still stunned in place, suddenly raised a hand and punched the connection between his helmet and armor.
With a 'gah' sound, the person shook his head up and down several times, then muttered in an extremely low voice,
"Damn it, this broken armor almost killed me. All that machine oil I put on you was wasted!"
The Iron Men, having received permission, walked past the guards, who were stationed every three to five steps, as if no one else was there. Amidst the jealous and disdainful gazes of all the Iron Warriors along the way, he walked directly to the "cage" where Fiona and Jonathan were held.
"J-j-j-j-j."
The Iron Men heard the girl's panicked and terrified cries from inside the room, as well as the sounds of the Astartes shifting positions. Realizing that his sudden appearance had made the people inside tense, the Iron Men spoke out:
"It's me, 0-13213."
"The big guy is back!" Fiona inside the door exclaimed in surprise.
Jonathan, closest to the door, cautiously pushed it open, then saw the familiar yet unfamiliar Iron Men, asking uncertainly, "Are you really 0-13213?"
"Bodies are replaceable for us. If you doubt me, I can tell you what happened when we were infiltrating the ship."
Hearing the word "infiltrating," the four Ultramarines, whose muscles had been tense, relaxed. Apart from 0-13213, no one would use "infiltrating" to describe their days of smashing anyone they caught on the Warsmiths' battleship.
Making way for the Iron Men, 0-13213 said nothing superfluous. He bent down, scanned the area, and then found a relatively spacious spot to sit cross-legged.
The little girl, looking both nervous and happy, hugged Allen's leg and watched the greatly changed Iron Men.
"I'm happy to see you all again."
The outspoken Bart walked over to the Iron Men, examined him up and down, and then said, "I feel like not only your body has changed, but your soul is also different from before. No, yours should be called a machine spirit."
"Hmm, I completed a self-upgrade. My machine spirit is indeed different from before," the Iron Men admitted in his usual calm, unwavering voice.
"How did you—" Bart didn't finish his sentence. They had personally witnessed 0-13213 willingly being captured and promising to stay by the traitor Perturabo's side.
"I'm sorry, if we hadn't dragged you down, you wouldn't have—"
"There's no need to apologize. I am no match for Perturabo. If I had forced the fight, the outcome would have been my complete destruction. The choice I made at the time was the optimal solution under those circumstances."
At this moment, Benjamin and the others also walked over. Allen then gently pushed Fiona, who was still clinging to his leg, towards the Iron Men. With that encouragement,
the little girl's tears immediately streamed from her eyes, and she cried as she threw herself at the Iron Men.
"Waaah, I thought you were dead, waaah."
"I told you then that I wouldn't die."
"Waaah, I thought you were lying to me, waaah."
"I never lie."
"Waaah."
The Iron Men allowed Fiona to hug him. He tried to find a way to stop her crying from his data, then raised his large hand and carefully reached for her head. But the little girl suddenly sat up, wanting to say something.
"Thud."
It sounded like it would be a smart head in the future, but Fiona, whose head bumped against the metal, cried even louder after a few seconds of stunned.
Seeing this, Allen pulled Fiona back to his side, half-laughing and half-crying, and comforted her for a good while. Benjamin took this opportunity to ask the question most concerning to the four of them:
"0-13213, would you mind telling us what the situation is like outside now?"
"I can. Perturabo is very confident. He didn't deliberately avoid me, and he allowed me to visit you, which means he doesn't mind you learning about the outside world through me," the Iron Men analyzed.
"He doesn't mind? He doesn't care about us. He doesn't think the four of us, who only survived because of you, can do anything," Bart said, somewhat resignedly.
"Bart!" Allen's voice held a hint of sternness.
However, the Iron Men's response left all four of them a bit speechless: "Indeed, he locked you and Fiona together in the former Governor's daughter's room precisely to humiliate you."
"You, you—" Bart rolled his eyes at the blunt Iron Men.
"As long as you don't fall to Chaos, there's nothing wrong with trying to survive. Only by surviving can there be a future."
Jonathan said to his comrades, "0-13213 is right. As long as we can survive, even if it means a future crusade of atonement, it's better than dying a meaningless death."
Allen and the other two nodded thoughtfully upon hearing this, then Jonathan turned back to the Iron Men and asked, "How is Chapter Master Calgar?"
"His life is not in danger. With Perturabo's permission, I injected him with nanite healing agents."
"Thank you. And the other brothers—"
"Some died in battle, most successfully escaped, but Honsou's ritual of sacrifice plunged half a world into the Warp, and Perturabo also used some method to project a part of Medrengard, his base of operations in the Eye of Terror, here. So they haven't safely withdrawn. According to feedback from those tasked with pursuing them, the remaining Ultramarines are likely hiding among the slave laborers enslaved by the Iron Warriors."
"Fortunately, they seem to be able to predict the Iron Warriors' movements in advance, so they haven't been found by the Iron Warriors. Perturabo has lost his temper several times over this matter."