Zosimus and Milding had come together to meet them.

Over the past few dozen Terra Standard Years, they have been the undisputed leaders of the hundreds of psionics in the Third Fleet.

Under their command, the Third Fleet, with psionic energy as its main purpose, did not rise to become such a powerful force, but it also successfully maintained its only remaining elite military strength and a relatively complete inheritance in the waves of the Great Expedition.

These two remarkable psionic masters are not ignorant new bloods, and like most Daybreakers, they are elite veterans of the Holy Terra who have slaughtered in the name of humans and emperors in hundreds of war-torn worlds and warships.

But despite this, when they face their own genetic mothers, the various behaviors and demeanors they show are still no more different from those new blood.

"Mother."

With two hesitant and tentative salutes, Morgan slowly opened his eyes, briefly glanced at the two off-the-beaten-looking heirs in front of him, and then nodded.

After seeing that they hadn't disturbed the contemplative Mother of Genes, the two psionic masters breathed a sigh of relief in their hearts, and their momentary fear faded and their countenances became visibly cheerful.

Yes, cheerful.

Of course it will be cheerful.

Although it was less than ten Terra standards since their first official meeting, this did not prevent these Terra veterans who had fought for more than a hundred years from using their own experience and observations to figure out their original body, and secretly shaping her image in their hearts.

The Psionic Master knows that not all Genetic Prototypes will be of full benefit to their legions: having an Archangel of Baal or the Wolf Shepherd of Ksunia is a good thing to have, but if your Prototype is the Olympian who can gently spit out the Eleven Whiplash Order, or the blonde beast who has disappeared......

That's just a confession, isn't it?

After all, it was the genetic protogen, their father and master, the figure they were destined to believe in and obey, and the mere idea of rebelling against such a figure crept through their hearts was enough to make the most determined Astarte warrior feel heartfelt.

Fortunately, they weren't the poor hapless: they had a primordial to look forward to, the only genetic mother of all legions, like the dawn behind the towering mountains, slowly illuminating their countenances and bringing hope and possibility out of the darkness.

When I think of the hope symbolized by those long-lost lights, when I think that those gray years seem to be gone, and then I think of the fact that at this moment, their genetic primordial, the master of their legion, is sitting in front of them, silently calling for the bonds and connections that come from blood and genes.

How can we not rejoice, rejoice, and rejoice?

In this rightful joy, the two psionic masters looked at their genetic mother happily but respectfully, waiting for the will of Her Highness the witch.

Yes, witch.

In the eyes of the two psionics, Morgan naturally did not look like the goddess of victory, but in front of these subspace scholars, she showed another style: a strange demeanor that symbolized profound wisdom, powerful spells, and endless mystic charm, a kind of arrogance and calmness that could hold thousands of beings in another world in their hands and play slowly.

In the eyes of psionics, the mother of their genes is erratic, like the looming mist in the deep forest under the moon, close in front of them, but as if far away in the sky, people can't figure it out.

She seemed to sit in front of them, and as if she were separated from them by an abyss, a hazy riddle, and in the majesty of that shadowy mystery, they could get a glimpse of what the Mother of Genes looked like.

Her face was delicate, with an almost unreal charm, as if it had been made by a skilled craftsman rather than a natural form of flesh and skin, and she was dressed in a long dress painted with strange runes, the color of which was almost frost-white, a light blue that was almost frost-white, and the wrinkled corners of the skirt concealed the pure black tips of her boots.

She was very thin, so thin that it was not a genetic protogen, but a somewhat tall mortal, her seemingly fragile shoulders were wrapped in an indigo hooded cloak, completely covering her back and most of her arms, she wore a shrine maiden hat that was just right, the brim in front of her was pulled downward, hiding her pupils and the tip of her nose, revealing only dark droop hair, and that smile that seemed to tell everything every scholar dreamed of.

She held a staff, a sacred object of spirit and wisdom, and countless bright orbs of light surrounded the great creature like fireflies in a summer night, exuding a power that made them envious and fearful.

This is Morgan, this is the mother of their genes, this is the great lord they will follow in the future, a mighty witch who stands proudly in the realm of psionic and magical powers.

This is what Morgan looks like in their eyes, and the two weathered psionic masters get the same answer and certainty from looking at each other: no matter what the other fighting brothers say, what they see with their own eyes at this moment is the true appearance of their genetic mother.

It was their privilege and a silent testament to the special place they have in the hearts of the Mother of Genes.

They are so convinced.

Like every Daybreaker.

——————

So, you've chosen it? 】

Morgan leaned back in his chair and looked at his two heirs, somewhat anticipating their next answer.

Before she left for the Indomitable Truth, Morgan had given the leaders of the two psionic factions a mission:

She needed something, something that would give her a deep understanding of the Third Fleet, the entire psionic faction, a unique presence that could symbolize and represent these think tanks and potential think tanks: it could be a book, a discourse, even a silent action or a battle from the past, she didn't care what it was on the outside, she just wanted to see what these psionic cubs could present to her.

To tell the truth, Morgan had actually done a lot of psychological planning, and she imagined that she could see something weird, after all, the Third Fleet, like the Thousand Sons Legion she had been in, was a pure psionic group, and the amazing wisdom that Magnus and his children had performed in front of Morgan still shook the weak heart of the Lord of the Second Legion.

So, when Josimus and Milding had gracefully saluted a somewhat old book, Morgan was a little surprised, to be honest.

She took a serious look at her two psionic masters: they were dressed in the silver armor common to the Daybreakers, with hoods on their heads, their faces unremarkable, but weather-tested, their swords, blasters, and scrolls tied around their waists, telling of the wonderful union of psionics and warriors.

Outwardly, they are no different from ordinary think tanks, which is also a characteristic of the Daybreakers.

In the Second Army, there is a democratic atmosphere based on pragmatism, and the high-ranking officers' right to speak is not absolute, and they must always respect the valuable experience and suggestions of those grassroots backbones and veterans, because these seemingly inconspicuous soldiers often have strong strength and rich experience, but the almost unique indifferent fame and fortune of the sons of Morgan make them not want to chase higher positions, but choose to shine in the positions they think are most suitable.

Thus, the sense of class within the Second Legion was not very strong, except in the critical moments of war, the distinction between senior officers and ordinary soldiers was not very obvious, and this resemblance was also reflected in appearance: apart from the necessary symbols of position and those medals of honor, the sons of Morgan seldom wore more things on their armour, and their simple philosophy of pragmatism was reflected in every aspect of the Legion, and even the long division and separation did not erase this collective character.

Morgan knew this, and she had no intention of changing it: this alternative officer-soldier affinity was very much in line with Queen Dawn's plan for her own children, and she was happy to see the Second Legion become a blended collective, which would be conducive to the unity and strength of the Legion.

And this is exactly the issue that Morgan is most concerned about now.

Since the Second Legion is worthy of optimism about her loyalty, what she needs to focus on most now is how to make this legion stronger and stronger: after all, since the Second Legion is already her strength, then they should become stronger, more united, more able to exert their strength and fanaticism, in line with Morgan's requirements for them, and in Morgan's own interests.

Therefore......

Morgan opened the book and read it quite carefully, reading between the lines.

Morgan was very serious and even dedicated to how to make the Second Legion stronger, and the selfish lady saw the Daybreakers as her own private property, a part of her own power, and so decided to nurture them as if they were her own, like a miserly and greedy manor who tended every inch of his farmland.

Morgan read quickly and carefully, picking out some of the most iconic chapters in the book, taking in its meaning and the stories behind it, and after making a few marks, the Legion Master raised his head and looked at his two psionic masters.

[This is the ...... Psalm? 】

"Yes, Mother."

"It's a book of poetry."

"It's also a record and summary of all kinds of psionic spells in the legion."

【…… Show me how. 】

"Understood."

Zosimus nodded, and then, he and Milding each took a few steps back to the open field, stood opposite each other, and slowly drew their matching swords.

The next moment, with the cold steel tearing at each other in the air, a wonderful duel unfolded between the psionic masters, who were not much worse than the leaders of the other legions, but that was not the focus of Morgan's observation.

The Lord of the Second Legion soon discovered that as the duel unfolded, the two psionic masters seemed to be singing a certain tune, a psalm, and their steps and techniques were refined with this chanting, turning into a rare and beautiful technique, and as the melody changed and advanced, lightning, flames, and unbearable cold began to dance beside them, joining in the battle that was becoming more and more exciting.

It didn't happen in a moment, a simple sword fight turned into a performance of countless psionic powers, and the poems that flowed from the lips and hearts contained enough power to make the warriors of Chiko feel admired, and they turned into winds and flames that could destroy the army, responding to the call of the two psionic masters.

Morgan watched the scene in silence, and at one point, she clapped her hands.

[That's it.] 】

Then, she looked down at the book in her hand, and it wasn't until she had found a solution to every problem in her mind that the genogen looked up, and her voice had turned into an affirmative praise.

[I suppose that among the legions, the mysteries and spells of psionic energy are passed down from generation to generation through some kind of mouth-to-mouth and catchy poetry or tune? 】

"Yes, Mother."

Zosimus nodded.

"In the beginning, we also tried to write about it in traditional books, but the Great Expedition was more intense than we imagined, so we came up with this method to let the mysteries of psionic energy lurk in the Psalms as a means of insurance against being lost, but over time, this chant became the mainstream of using psionic energy."

"In the beginning, this kind of oral chanting did cause confusion and trouble, so Milding and I decided to write a book to record them, and later on, this book began to record all the research and ideas we had about psionic powers."

"As you can see, in the first half of the book, there are complete poems and ballads, which are the result of the practice of war, and which have power and reliability."

"In the middle part, most of the works that have not had time to be completed and improved, some works that are very powerful, but also unacceptable at the price, are also listed among them, as a means of necessary moments."

Morgan nodded, she was not surprised by the existence of this ballad, whether it was in the white scar or the space wolf, she had seen similar methods, as if this ancient narrative poem and those wonderful forces that did not belong to the real world were the most natural pair, and should appear together.

There were, of course, exceptions: the sons of Magnus showed a contempt for this barbaric old poetry, preferring the intricate and subtle tricks to the chants of escapism.

Well, though, Morgan would rather make her offspring more like the savage-looking Storm Prophet and Rune Priest than the great art from Prospero: after all, she has different requirements for psionic cubs.

All the other heirs need to do is to keep getting stronger, and thus strengthen her power, and these psionic heirs ......

Don't get her in trouble.

That's their number one priority.

She didn't dare to imagine that a group of thousand-son astonishing wise men under her hands would bring any surprise to her fragile little heart.

Thinking of this, Morgan's fingers turned to the last pages of the book: unlike the previous artistic poems, here are all staccato words of madness and despair.

[That...... And what about the last ones? 】

[They don't look like songs, they look more like crazy talk, babbling, or even pure wails of despair and ...... Words? 】

Morgan sat upright, watching her two heirs darken their faces.

“…… Yes, Mother. ”

"That's the last word."

"That's the price."

Zosimus kept his head down, as if he was running away from some terrible memory.

"That's the sacrifice we will make and the battle brothers we will lose when we continue to explore the subspace in these long decades: during these years, we have continued to explore the subspace, constantly groping for the limits of our psionic energy little by little in caution and awe."

"But even so, even if we have done our utmost care, there are still countless brothers who have left us, and our innate courage to the unknown has inspired us to move forward, but it has also cost us a lot."

"We will even envy the thousand sons, envy them for being able to walk so far in the waves of subspace, leaving us behind, but at no cost, and every step of ours is the slowest and bloodiest, countless brothers who were still intact in the last moment, after trying a magic that has never been experimented, died the most miserable, and avoided another dangerous place for us with their lives."

"And these last words are the legacy they left us, those fighting brothers who died in this exploration, they will do anything to say the mistakes they have made, and the roots of their deaths, so that we, the successors, can learn from them."

"This is also part of the Psalm."

Zosimus's mournful voice echoed in her ears, and Morgan only gently stroked the pages, and she noticed that many of them seemed to come from the same person's words.

Midas? 】

"Yes, Lord Midas, he is my mentor and the first psyker of the Second Legion who inspired and guided the Emperor himself."

[He's dead?] 】

“…… Yes. ”

"In a war of extinction of the aliens, Lord Midas called for too much psionic energy in order to block the counterattack of the aliens, and was finally swallowed up by the power of these subspaces, we transported him back to the battleship as soon as possible, and tried all means of healing, but to no avail."

"He was eaten alive by the forces of the subspace in front of all of us, and we couldn't even extract his genetic seed, and it was an unimaginably long process, lasting several Terra standard days, so long that he could even tell us his last words, and asked us to add the last words of all the explorers to this book, as a warning."

"Also from that moment, Mother."

"In the hearts of all of us, psionic energy is no longer a pure gift, and we have witnessed how it has come back and killed a powerful psyker, and we have begun ......"

[Awe? 】

Morgan asked rhetorically, and she closed the book, only to see the two big gilded words on the cover: awe.

"Yes."

"Awe."

Morgan closed her eyes, she didn't ask any more, but sighed in her heart.

It was better than she had imagined, and it was much better.

Reverence, reverence for psionic energy.

This is good.

After all, Morgan would rather have a group of Storm Prophets or even Rune Priests than a thousand sons.

——————

Their genetic mother stood up, and in that moment, her inner figure became even clearer.

She smiled and slowly walked up to them and patted them on the shoulder, as a reward, which made the two psionic masters shocked and excited.

She spoke.

[That's good. 】

[Zosimus, Mildin.] 】

[You have done a good job: psionic energy is a double-edged sword, it can kill our opponents, but at some point, threaten us. 】

[Your thinking is very correct, which makes me happy]

Morgan put his hands behind his back and surrounded his two heirs, slowly turning in a circle, telling his initial plan.

[Originally, I wanted to educate you, but now it seems that you are indeed my troubled children, which means that we can skip this step and talk about other things.] 】

She smiled and leaned back in her chair.

[We all know that my psionic masters, every genetic prototype will transform his legion: there are some and few, but this kind of thing will happen, and I will not be the exception. 】

Zosimus and Milding looked up a little abruptly and looked at each other.

"We were the first? Mother? ”

[Of course, after all, you and I are so similar that I have a little instinctive bias in the choice of everyone.] 】

The simplest words that came out of Morgan's mouth were enough to make the two psionic masters excited, and the small worries and concerns disappeared.

"All is by your grace! Mother! ”

[Needless to say, it's so serious.] 】

Morgan crossed her hands and hugged her chest, and she showed a motherly smile, like a hearty elder treating his child equally, communicating in a smile and reasoning.

——————

Poetry is a good civilization, my children, and they should be encouraged, as well as a formal reincarnation. 】

[With the poetry that inherits the mysteries of psionic energy as the core, I intend to divide all my psionic descendants into two parts, they are responsible for actual combat and research, the former is naturally devoted to battle, and the latter needs to continue to collect and compile poems, and continue to explore in the ocean of subspace. 】

[Of course, those in charge of actual combat and those in charge of research will not remain the same, and there will be exchanges and exchanges between them every once in a while to ensure that the research direction will not deviate from the actual situation. 】

After all, action is the only criterion for testing truth. 】

[Another point is that in view of the dangers that cannot be ignored by the research departments that explore in subspace, there will not be too many researchers, and they will be separated from the ordinary army and become members of the secret society.] 】

“…… Secret? ”

[An organization independent of the Legion Council, they are accountable only to me, and can be understood as my right hand.] 】

Johnson's governance of his legion still has some merit.

Brilliance, in the pupils of the two psionic masters, appeared at the same time.

[Of course, this does not mean that the personnel in charge of actual combat do not need to do any book work, I can't stand my regiment moving forward in a mess and groping, you all know, what I appreciate is the combination of efficiency and practical action.] 】

They need to learn, every psionic has to learn, they must master several techniques at the same time, including but not limited to:]

[Techniques for individual combat. 】

[Skills as the core or assistant of the squad.] 】

[Company Combat Skills. 】

[The method of joint battle required by the Psionic Group when acting alone.] 】

[Necessary melee ability.] 】

[Systematic learning in the psionic field in which you are proficient.] 】

And most importantly, the core of ideological and moral education, is:]

[If you can use your hands, don't use spells.] 】

If you can use your brain, don't use your psionic energy. 】

[Hmm...... That's all for now. 】

[But there must be more than that, along with the future assessment and real-life test, I will continue to improve these contents, if the implementation is good, I will promote it to the whole legion.] 】

So, what's the problem? 】

“……”

“……”

“…… One question, mother. ”

"How do you learn these skills?"

[Intensive training and teaching, or lectures for which I am personally responsible, and a series of formalized teaching materials.] 】

“…… Teaching materials? ”

[Of course.] 】

She smiled.

[You don't think I'll let you risk your life and explore that subspace little by little, do you? 】

From now on, I will lead these explorations, and I will also compile teaching materials for each situation for your study and reference. 】

This is my first gift to you. 】

(End of chapter)