+ The gears are turning, and a new story is finally about to be revealed. ＋

+ This is the story of another of my children, about his home planet, his blood and his legions: but alas, in this story I am destined to be a cruel and unpopular character, and I will make the worst decision in all of the galaxy. ＋

"It's obvious, Apocalypse."

Although separated by thousands of stars, when the Emperor's will comes, the figure of the Palm Seal will faithfully appear in the brilliance of the holographic projection, every detail of his face will be clearly visible, and his wisdom and advice will be linked by his voice, contributing to his distant lordship on the front line.

"This time, I can understand you."

"After all, we don't have a choice: the world has come to an end."

Between the Emperor and the Palm Seal, there was only a smaller projection, a slowly rotating world, its vanity held tightly in the palm of the Lord of Men: it was not a pleasant planet from the outside, it was shrouded in a sickly crimson, a red desert of red sand that swept almost the entire surface of the earth, and on top of it were some extravagant palace structures of luxury, and the barren and miserable villages scattered in the middle of the wasteland.

It's not a rich world, but it's definitely a world where the gap between rich and poor is extremely stark, and according to intelligence, it's also a world of high technology: the slave owners' guards hold all sorts of ancient relics, some of which are worthy of Astarte warriors.

Nukeria, that is the name of this world, a savage star flooded with hot red sand, chosen out of hundreds of millions of its kind, has been temporarily valued by the Lord of Men: for one of his children is in this world at this time.

One...... There are some different offspring.

+ This is the seventeenth. ＋

"Eighteenth, Apocalypse."

+ From the point of view of the empire, he is the seventeenth. ＋

The emperor seemed to be muttering to himself.

In fact, when the Great Expedition of the Human Empire advanced to the hundredth century. There are already sixteen Genogenitors, in the sacred name of the Great Expedition, under the command of their Genetic Father: but the Emperor clearly remembers that eighteen heirs have returned, but one of them has not yet appeared, and the other will never be recognized by him.

As for the two remaining heirs, and their respective legions, the Twelfth and Nineteenth Legions, neither of them played a crucial role in the Emperor's plans, so the Lord of Humanity did not seek them at all costs, as he had done in previous decades, but let the tide of fate push them back to his side.

Perhaps it was this slight slackness that had brewed the consequences, or perhaps it had been irreparable long before the original body was scattered into the void: in short, when the emperor finally sensed the location of another of his heirs in the sea of souls, he already had a premonition that things would turn out very badly.

The reason is also very simple, after returning sixteen genetic primitives one after another, some of them were noticed by their genetic fathers after making their own achievements and spreading a lot of fame in the void: such as Dorne and Killiman, and of course, Morgan.

Others, though not yet able to make a name for themselves in the universe, have reached the pinnacle of their abilities, and the Lord of Humanity has been able to sense the high spirits of his bloodlines in the sea of souls, and it is with this as a guide that he has found these scattered treasures in the vast galaxy.

But the current Primordial was different from his brothers: the Primordial that had fallen on Nukeria had neither spread his prestige in the galaxy, nor was it strong enough for the Emperor to sense him in the Sea of Souls, and when humans found this heir on their own, he felt something in the body of the Twelfth-Instance that he had never seen before.

That's decay, that's chaos, that's the dying throes of the road: that's the breath of a loser that should never be in any genotype.

The Emperor's son had not succeeded as his brother, on the contrary, he had been pushed to the brink of descent on his home planet: but if that was all he could do, the Emperor could still endure it, and the plans he had set up in his heart for the various genetic protoplasms were grand blueprints, and of course he could tolerate their small failures at the beginning.

He is not a harsh tyrant.

The real problem, though......

“……”

"We're late, Apocalypse."

Macardo's eyebrows, nose, and lips were shrouded in a terrifying majesty, and he stared at the Emperor's Angry Kyria, who was holding him in the palm of his hand: the murderous scene and his next words were captured by holographic projections.

"Look at this place, even if it's so far away, I can tell at a glance that something is wrong with it: the breath, the aura of that Chaos Evil God, is so strong that it has already wrapped up this world."

"The whole of Angry Kyria is its specially designed gladiatorial arena, all so that Twelve can fight to the death in it, and then be reborn as his slave in endless blood."

＋…… Yes. ＋

The Lord of Humanity nodded, and he looked at the world in his palm with the same serious face, looking at the world wrapped in red sand: if you look closely, you will find that on top of the nearly brown red sand on the surface, there is a hazy blood mist, which is almost merging with the red sand in the sky.

This blood mist says only one thing.

+ Blood God. ＋

The Emperor's voice was hoarse, as if he was holding back the blood that had already poured up his throat: when he told his story, the coldness in the heart of the Lord of Humanity could clearly sense even the palm sealers on the Divine Terra, and the entire [Emperor Dream] trembled under this coercion.

+ Wrath Kyria, this world was not found by me, and the breath of the Twelfth was not first sensed by me in the sea of souls: he was thrown before me by the blood-red vulture in the subspace, the great hound that perched on the brass throne. ＋

+ Just as I was feeling restless, the breath of the Blood God poured out from the deepest part of the Most High Heaven, and the news of the angry Kyria and the weakness of the Twelfth were wrapped in flesh and blood, and hurled upon me in the realm of the soul. ＋

The Emperor recounted all this, and in his endlessly suppressed voice, there was only a trace of sadness in the deepest corners.

"It's like a show-off, apocalypse."

The Palm Printmaker frowned, and he looked at the Red Sand Star with some uneasiness.

"If I'm not mistaken, when that daughter of yours came to visit Sacred Terra, she mentioned in a casual conversation with me that she sensed something unusual in Nu Kairia, and even sent someone to check it out, but in the end nothing came out."

+ Because it's too early. ＋

Behind the emperor's unfazed pupils, no one knew what he was thinking.

+ Morgan noticed that Nukeria was strange ten years ago, the year she had taken over Conrad from me and was on an expedition with Killiman against the Osiris Alien: at that time, Twelve had not yet landed on Nukeria, and she had just staggered with him. ＋

"And by the time we realized he was there, it was already too late."

The palm printman couldn't help but sigh.

"Or rather, it's too late."

"The Brass Throne is throwing the world to you, which means that all of his work has been done: the blood god is just a victor and a rude show to those of us who haven't even made it to the arena."

+ We did ignore that. ＋

The Emperor nodded, his face looking a little frustrated.

+ Until then, I could feel the contamination of the Usurper and the Lord of Decay among my empire and my children: what happened to the Thousand Sons was too bizarre, and Motarian's home planet didn't seem like a coincidence, but the pollution was harmless, and I didn't have a good way to stop it. ＋

+ As for the god of pleasure, he has devoted almost all his attention to my daughter, and this has provided me with a certain convenience: at least, I am not worried that he will cause me any trouble elsewhere. ＋

+ Morgan has always been there to help me in these strange but vital places: she is the one who has contributed the most to me so far. ＋

said. The human's voice grew colder, and as he squeezed the palm of his hand tighter, the crimson projection slowly began to form a terrifying crack.

+ I had expected these actions of theirs: the gods had shown me their greed at the beginning, and they had already begun to slaughter my sons before they were born: each of them wanted at least one primordial as their profane plaything, if not more.

+ I know, I knew all this from the beginning, I knew that I was destined to lose several of my sons and that I did not have the strength to protect each and every one of them. ＋

+ But I never thought about it...... ＋

The Emperor's voice gradually deepened, until it ushered in a sharp turn: with the power of the Lord of Mankind leaking a little more, the poor projection in his palm finally could not withstand this great force, and completely turned into a shattered message.

+ The first to strike would have been the Blood God, and far more ruthless and deceitful than his indecisive siblings: it had snatched a child from my hands while others were still tempting. ＋

"We underestimated it."

Now, even the palm seal holder can only shake his head and sigh.

"The Blood God is always an underrated one."

"In all the descriptions of the ancient race that we can gather, it has always been dragged down by its worshippers, the insane, illogical bloodthirsty maniacs who would make us think that the gods they worship are really just simple bloodthirsty lunatics about blood, killing, plundering, and skulls."

"We always forget that the Brass Throne is also in charge of war and strategy, and it is also in charge of the cruelest artistic aesthetics of intelligent beings, and it can be a military strategist with great speed and two of the most despicable places in war."

"That is, the greed to wage war, and the insidiousness of any means to win."

"How could the blood god not make a move: he was the god in charge of plunder."

"How could the Blood God not have those intrigues: there is no shortage of these on the battlefield."

"Perhaps the master of this brass throne will condemn others for breaking their understanding of each other, or for plotting against each other, but when it comes to its own interests, it will turn a blind eye and stab it twice: that's the most disgusting thing about those Chaos Gods."

"Even the most [honest] blood god is a sinister bastard."

+ It's not so much insidious as brutality in the bones. ＋

The emperor lowered his eyebrows, he waved his hand casually, and the shattered film under his feet completely turned into a smear of ashes.

+ From the point of view of the blood god, this is simply normal: since I am powerless to protect this child of mine, it can snatch it away as a matter of course. This predator is revered by its admirers. ＋

+ But one thing you are right, Machado: the Blood God is as greedy as its brothers, it has got one now, but it will definitely want more in the future, and it will not stop its predatory behavior. ＋

"I can imagine it."

The Palm Sealer nodded.

"St. Giles, Dorne, Perturab or Riemanrus, and Chagatai Khan or Ferrus: by the standards of the Brass Throne, it must have longed for too much, and perhaps Twelve seemed to him just a bottom line, a thing that guaranteed itself not to lose, and after obtaining him, it could confidently and boldly pursue the genetic prototypes it wanted more."

+ I won't let it succeed. ＋

The Emperor's voice was short, but it sounded categorical.

+ I did fail in this game, and I could only get to that world after the dust had settled, because time was on the side of subspace: the Empire's fleet would never reach Nukeria as long as the Brass Throne wanted to, and we would either arrive early or too late to miss it until it held the Twelve in the palm of its hand. ＋

+ But the same mistake, I won't do it again. ＋

+ What's more...... ＋

The Lord of Humanity turned his head slightly, skimming towards the dark corners of the room.

+ In this game, although we came too late, it was not without chance: I have already issued an order. Involve Conrad and Morgan in the expedition. ＋

"Conrad and Morgan?"

The palm printer was a little confused.

"I remember, didn't you plan to take anyone with you in the first place?"

+ I thought so, but then I changed my mind: for Morgan and Conrad are the two men who have so far clearly rewritten the course of their fate: although I can't do it myself, if I let them come, I might be able to become a dead horse doctor, maybe I can. ＋

+ Number Twelve is my heir after all, and I will give it a try whenever I can. ＋

"That's right."

The Palm Sealer nodded.

"And what if they can't help it?"

+ Then you can only throw in the towel. ＋

With that, the emperor reverted to that indifferent stance.

+ I'm a little reluctant, but I can't afford to lose too much time in a game I've already lost: if all else fails, then I'll be the one who has lost Twelve and the entire War Dog Legion. ＋

+ I can even imagine what choice the Great Hound on the Brass Throne will leave me with when I get there: I will only be faced with one choice. ＋

+ Take him with brutality, bear all his anger and resentment, let his soul die before he sets foot on the territory of the Empire, and make him a ghost over the angry Kyria. ＋

+ I have to do it. ＋

+ That's all I can do. ＋

“……”

"But ......"

——————

But why don't we destroy this world completely? 】

Or, let Angrand wash his past in blood, let him kill the slave owners who had oppressed him with his own hands, and avenge his tragic past and his brothers: maybe this will not change Angrand's fate, but at least it will improve his attitude towards the Empire. 】

[For the emperor, this is something that can be thought of and can be done: how can he completely offend one of his children for the sake of such a world, for that little time of expedition? Even if he already has? 】

"That's not the problem."

Conrad seemed unsurprised by the question raised by his blood relative, smiling and shaking his finger, then grabbing the water bottle next to him and gulping it down: even the Midnight Ghost felt a little dry after telling Morgan all the things that were going to happen on Nukeria.

But Morgan's endless doubts don't give him more time to rest: well, that's forgivable, after all, the story on Nukeria does sound pretty fucked up if you don't take into account more factors behind it.

"It's like we said before."

Conrad wiped his mouth.

"Under the long-term planning of the blood god in the subspace, Nukeria has long become a purgatory prepared only for Angelang: if it were not for the intervention of the blood god, how could the inhabitants of this world be indifferent to the charm of a genetic proto, and how could they have mastered those strange and powerful props that can suppress the emperor's heir?"

"Not to mention, the world itself is deformed to a strange system: the huge contradiction between the rich and the poor can be suppressed with only bloody gladiatorial battles, so that gladiatorial battles have become the culture of the whole world, which is simply impossible."

"The only answer is: Angry Kairia itself is a world specially designed by the Blood God, whether it is those bloodthirsty people, or strange technology, or even a deformed cultural system with gladiatorial fighting as the core, isn't it exactly what the Blood God likes to see?"

"The blood god specially designed this world for Angrã, and also used this world to firmly bind Angrand: of course, the emperor can completely destroy Nu Kairia, but this also kills Angrand's brothers in disguise, although they are already dead."

In short, instead of earning Angrand's gratitude, this kind of behavior will stir up greater stubbornness in him: Can you still count on the nail in Angrand's head to reason with you?"

"What's more, after destroying Nukeria, can you be sure where Angelun's next trigger is: the Great Expedition will last for a long time, and the Blood God can pinch an identical Nukeria out of a corner that the emperor can't take care of."

"So, keep this Nukeria, then at least everything is still known, and if it is eliminated, then Angeland's future is really unknown: we never know where he will break out."

"As for letting Angron figure it out on his own?"

Conrad laughed.

"Let's think differently."

"Let's say, it's just a civilian."

"From the very beginning of his life, he was coerced by endless oppression, and in humiliation and rebellion he lost everything he cherished: his adoptive father and brother, his glory and kindness, his original nobility and faith, all had to be lost in killing again and again."

"And at the very moment when his life was at a low point, he gained strength, the power to kill, the power to kill all those who had oppressed him: of course he would have killed them all, because he had shown such a violent tendency in his previous resistance, because in his mind there was a source of violence, because the gods of blood would whisper in his ear."

"Let's imagine: if we really let Angron have the power to lead his legions at the lowest point of his life and turn Nucaria into a sea of corpses and blood, guess what's the end of this story?"

【……】

"Yes, you know, my dear sister, there are few people who know subspace better than you."

Conrad's smile was mixed with a hint of bitterness.

"There is only one end to this kind of story."

【……】

[Ascension.] 】

Morgan's eyebrows were cold.

"Yes, Ascension."

Conrad nodded, seemingly dismissive of the word.

"That's where it all ends."

"In the calculations of the god of blood, the moment Angron set foot in Nukeria again, all he had to greet was a vast ascension ceremony."

"The Emperor can take Angron or destroy Nukeria, and the same can make the World Bloodied by the War Dog Legion: but none of the choices can change the final outcome."

"Take Angelon away, and you will end up with his rebellion."

"Destroy Nu Kyria, then maybe the entire War Dog Legion, not even the last day of the Great Expedition, will follow their original body and fall into madness on a new Nukeria that suddenly appears."

"And if we let our brother start his revenge on the spot."

"That ......"

Conrad pursed his lips and spat a silent smile into the air.

——————

"We're about to welcome the first brother to ascend."

【……】

"All, now you know, my dear sister: from the beginning ......"

"The emperor has only one choice."

"Worst of all, that choice."

(End of chapter)

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