"The jump is complete."

"Enter the physical space."

The maid's whisper awakened the slumbering Lord of the Second Legion, and when she opened her turquoise pupils, a galaxy called Maculag appeared in front of her.

"Sixteen starry fortresses and weapon platforms were detected, three fleets were detected, five communication requests were detected, including imagery and psionic energy, and the number of Void engines was detected to be over a hundred, all with no further intent to open fire."

The diminutive maid stood beside Morgan, her brain connected to some of the instruments of the Queen of Glory-class battleship, and her powerful computing power allowed her to easily take in tens of thousands of data, and then quickly pick out the most important ones and report them to her mistress.

Of course, sometimes a simple debriefing may not be effective.

"Please give instructions, mistress."

"Wake up, mistress."

The voice of the young maid echoed through the room that no one was allowed to enter, and she called again and again, until a lazy bean bag couch in front of her propped up a lazy arm, and then fell again.

The maid blinked, and after a moment's hesitation, the program she had already written in her head told her what to do.

The cart full of muffins and white chocolate was temporarily pushed aside, and the maid moved her wrists, rolled up her sleeves, and walked up to the genotype, grabbing one of her feet and gently dragging it back and forth, keeping Morgan's will awake to her rhythm.

"You can't rest deeply, hostess."

"You still have work to do."

【…… I...... I know ......]

After tugging back and forth for more than ten seconds, Morgan's intermittent awakening sound activated the stop button in the maid's mind, and in her merciless crimson pupils, the Lord of the Second Legion struggled to get up from her cushion, she was draped in an overly wide white robe, and she still looked a little awake.

By the standards of the genoplasma, this is inevitably a bit sluggish: but this is exactly the normal reaction that Morgan will have when he is in a state of [swollen abdomen] after eating a large amount of food, which is somewhat similar to low blood pressure in mortals.

"You need to eat, hostess: this is the instruction you set aside before resting."

Morgan's mental weakness was somewhat relieved by a glass of ice water, and she took a few seconds to fully sober herself up, and then looked to the side: the maid she had made herself was pushing a silver-white dining cart with a beautiful pink pattern on the edges.

This is exactly Aniah: although the Iron Warrior's genetic prototype has strengthened Morgan's handmaiden by 100 million points, in the eyes of the Lord of the Second Legion, her handmaiden is still so weak that she can only fight against and snipe a few Astarte warriors from a distance, and too rough physical work is really not suitable for her.

So, the Lord of the Second Legion chose to further process her maid in his laboratory, so that she could understand what a maid should do: such as the most efficient cleaning and pastry making, and the effect was very pleasant, and the Spider Queen lived a happy life as she wished.

She was already thinking about whether to build a few more [maids], anyway, the transformation drawings and weapon installation strategies that Perturabo gave her had already been thoroughly eaten, and the Dawnbreakers did not have the slightest suspicion or concern about Aniah's existence, and Lana and the others even treated the only maid who could enter and exit the original body residence carefully, for fear that their strength would accidentally hurt the fragile arm and torso.

"What do you want to eat, hostess?"

The maid slowly pushed the dining cart in front of Morgan, and the Spider Queen casually glanced at the dazzling three-story tower, caught in the warm air of black tea and coffee.

Everything looks so perfect and seductive: shiny sandwiches dominate the kingdom at the bottom, thin slices of cucumber compete with smoked ham; And the fluffy toasted muffins, with their sweet honey flowing on them, form a wonderful sweet rival to the crispy egg rolls, replacing the scones that Morgan didn't like, occupying the second tier of the three-story tower.

The top layer is the most gorgeous: the creamy and creamy tiramisu is made with the most authentic mascarpone cheese and sprinkled with cocoa powder like an inky layer of snow, exuding a light coffee wine flavor; And the Black Forest cake, which combines the delicacy of chocolate and the mellowness of cherry wine, is not at all left behind; The apple pie is sliced open to reveal a mouth-watering, sticky broth, while the lava-like egg tarts have been modified to give the flavor of the shell a favorite softness of the genogen.

[Reliable as always, my dear Aniah, it was a genius decision to put all the knowledge of desserts into your processor.] 】

Humming a Welsh ditty briskly, Genogen pulled up a piece of jelly-wriggling mousse cake, poured bright berries and thick cream into her mouth, greedily licking the residue from her fingertips.

The maid blinked, she washed her hands, poured a cup of tea for her mistress, and as her crimson pupils watched the silver-haired queen wipe out most of the tower in an instant, a deepest breath of joy and satisfaction crossed her heart, more motivating than any roaring program.

[We're in Macurag?] 】

"Seven seconds before Mr. Lana reports to you using the communicator."

[A little faster than I thought.] 】

Morgan yawned, barefoot, and walked on the floor of the room: the original private lounge was made of a slow lazy sofa and a soft low bed, and the soft furniture on which she could lean on and slump was everywhere, and in the corners and corners were scattered with the knick-knacks of the Spider Queen, and the floor of the whole room was a soft tatami mat, and shoes were piled up in the doorway.

Upon discovering that her emotions seemed to be slowly recovering at an uncontrolled pace, Morgan chose to slowly accept and confront the things that were not right for her after the initial failed suppression: for example, as she gradually regained her emotions, there seemed to be more and more [mortal] places in her, even more than her other blood relatives, a little too strange.

It's hard to figure out...... Well, there are enough things she can't figure out now.

Rubbing the corners of her brow, banishing the last trace of confusion in her mind, she casually answered Lana's briefing, and after drinking the black tea handed by the maid, she walked out of the room that no outsiders would find out, and entered her fitting room.

[Okay, let me think about it.] 】

The Lord of the Second Legion muttered to himself.

[What do you say about that alien......]

——————

The six giant war horns left behind by the ancient kings of Maculag were roaring sharply and roughly, and the deafening roar echoed through the city and the tens of thousands of greetings.

The shrill music of the Thirteenth Regiment followed, and eight hundred silver trumpets and trumpets played a bright triumphal piece, like a seasoned orchestra conductor, and whenever the music reached a climax and a critical juncture, the crowds on both sides of the square would involuntarily let out a long cheer, forming wave after wave of enthusiasm.

Dressed in full ceremonial armor, Killiman stands on the platform of the Titan Gate, the northern entrance to the Military Square and one of the largest entrances and settlements in the entire city of Maculag: it is large enough to hold thirty Divine Machines at once, these powerful weapons led by Warlord-level Titans come from the four Titan legions allied with Killiman, and what people don't know is that the Lord of Otlama is actually still thinking about uniting with the other two Titans.

The master of the Maculag stood at the highest point he could have, his remarkable hearing occupied by music that was either lively or grandiose, and his pupils were looking back and forth everywhere he could observe, from the gleaming marble floors of the Military Square at his feet to the beautiful manors that housed the many parliamentarian mansions in the distance, and he thought about all the elements that had made up the grand welcome ceremony, making sure for the last time that nothing would offend the blood relatives.

"You don't have to be so sorrowful, sir."

When Lady Eudon walked up to Killiman, the Genomorphs were preoccupied with the victorious guards gathered in the square: it was a huge force of five thousand men, and behind them there were many more phalanx of mortal warriors and Astartes, which made Killiman wonder if his blood relative, who had only more than 20,000 children, would see this as a show off and pressure.

"Whatever you want to change, it's not a good time, my lord, your blood relatives are less than three minutes away, and any slightest change will cause chaos when she arrives, so instead of worrying about it here, you should face whatever might happen with your most open-mindedness."

The words of the palace lord were always so rational, objective, and timely that Killiman could be reassured at all times: for all reasons, in public, Yutun would only call her adopted son "Lord", after all, they were now Archon of Maculag and his palace lord, not the genetic protogens and his beloved adoptive mother.

Killeman felt bad about it, but he convinced himself to accept it.

"I know, ma'am, I know what I should do, you don't have to worry."

Killiman replied in a low voice, and behind him, an attendant stepped up and handed over a datapad to the Progenitor: the Void Shield and the right to open the airspace above Maculag could only be activated by the Progenogen's genetic samples, and such technology was used flexibly and extensively in important matters for many legions.

Killiman took the data board, the city's layers of systems working because of his orders, almost in the blink of an eye, the figure of another Glory Queen-class battleship loomed in the clear sky of Maculag, and the superhuman senses of the Lord of the Ultramarines allowed him to spot the group of storm birds emerging at the end of the sky before all the scanners.

"She has fewer attendants than I thought."

Killiman muttered in a low voice, causing the palace lord on the side to smile silently.

Under the gaze of the genetic prototype, the storm birds painted silver-white landed on the military square one after another, there was no fancy or connotative expression, and there was no invisible display of military power, as if they were completing the most basic mission, the flight engines of the Second Legion landed in turn, their movements as unpretentious as their paintwork: silver-white appearance, simple but accurate spraying sequences such as [II.], Or the symbol of the Legion of the Dawnbreakers: the sun in the Celtic ring.

When Killeman saw the three hundred Daybreakers standing in the square in a neat line, he remembered his fear and jealousy a few seconds ago, and he feared that his blood relatives would flex their force and make the meeting tense: it was now the turn of the Lord of Maculag to feel the slightest remorse for his narrow-mindedness.

"Dorlo, Glord, follow me, Auguston, and leave it to you."

After assigning orders to the commander of the First and Second World Wars and the commander of the Invincible Iron Guard, the Genoplasma turned his head to look at his adoptive mother, drawing the last of his strength from her silent smile, and then walked off the platform with the same kind but solemn smile that best represented Maculag.

From afar, he saw his own blood relatives choose to step out of her Storm Bird at the same moment, followed by a solemn guard, his silver-white Seiko armor trimmed with Martian red gold, and that stern countenance reminded Killiman vaguely of his unwelcome brother.

It's like Dorne......

The Lord of Maculag muttered in his heart, and he walked down the steps towards his blood relatives, just as his blood relatives were doing the opposite thing, and the two primordials slowly approached each other, the initial distance between them may have been a kilometer long, it was a long wait, all the noise and trumpets died down at this moment, even the cacophony of the crowd gradually subsided, and an unprecedented silence enveloped Killiman's ears, which made him feel less comfortable.

He saw Morgan, who was only a few hundred meters away from each other, and he could easily observe this legendary blood relative.

She was dressed in a white robe, the color of which was similar to that of a precipitated marble statue, and the hem of the dress was clearly homemade, for it did not fall off in the slightest, but it perfectly concealed the interlaced toes, and Killiman could not even see what shoes his blood relatives were wearing.

On the upper body, she used a pair of exquisite bust armor as the perfect solution to the dress, the lines on the armor are simple and majestic, telling that its owner is not a delicate and delicate girl, the complex forms of kingdom and class converge on both sides of the armor, and finally bow down to the power of the sun in the Celtic ring, and near the neck, the magic star, which symbolizes Morgan's personal symbol, plays the dual role of brooch and majesty. It speaks of the authority and power of its owner.

Her face is beautiful, like a pure girl, but her sharp pupils tell the majesty of a warrior and a commander, and the afterglow between her eyebrows tells everyone that her chest contains wisdom and rational thoughts, which are her most precious and important corners.

This is his blood relative, the Lord of the Second Legion of the Empire, the genetic prototype of the Dawnbreaker......

The Lord of Maculag felt that his breathing was becoming faster and faster, and when he saw the eagle marks symbolizing the descendants of Romulus and Remus, he had a subconscious feeling that at last, all blood relatives were no longer compatible with Macula.

If such a female eagle can be a close neighbor of the Five Hundred Worlds, it may not be a completely bad thing: at the very least, she should have some tacit understanding in her heart that she can learn from the Five Hundred Worlds of Otrama.

The genoplasm thought: So, he was the first to reach out.

"Welcome, blood relative."

[My pleasure, blood relative. 】

Killyman smiled, and in the midst of his smile, the eyes that could perceive all rational thoughts were looking at the pale face and the wonderful hair, and as the silver threads rose from the wind, caressing the armor with a not-so-sharp tip, the genogen suddenly realized something.

He suddenly realized: the first time he saw his blood relatives from afar, he seemed to see an illusion, an aura that made him feel familiar and close, as if he would unconsciously begin to rely on and trust.

Morgan, his blood relative, seemed to contain some secrets, some breath, and some important factors that were common on Maculag, familiar to the owner of the Ultramarines.

So what is it......

A moment of thought crossed the mind of the genetic protogen, and in his conscious and unconscious deliberations, the two genetic prototypes had already spoken a few useless and necessary words, and the smiles on their faces had made the countless mortals around the square fall into a noise of peace and enthusiasm through various instruments.

All the best, isn't it?

Killiman struck, inviting his blood relatives to join him as he climbed the remaining steps to a platform that overlooked everything, while four Primal Guards from both legions followed a few steps behind.

The Lord of Macurag was ahead, his brain experiencing an unimaginable roar and roar in a brief moment, enough to keep the thinking of ten sectors running around a single question, and the effort was so effective that when Killiman looked back again, he already had the answer.

Look at the smile of his blood relatives.

In his eyes, it was so much like ......

……

……

Resemble......

Ms. Judton?

(End of chapter)