"The Emperor has summoned you, go in."

"Very few people will be able to enter this laboratory, and few will even know of its existence, even if it is the genetic protogens: so, don't let down the Emperor's weight of you."

"Trust me: you don't want to know the consequences of living up to this weight, mortal."

……

The Praetorian who led the way to the mortals was not a kind person, and he maintained a silence that bordered on arrogance the whole time, as if he did not have any communication with the mortals in front of him, until they finally reached their destination, and the words that were more like admonition than advice were spat out of the mouth of the golden guard.

It should be said that between the cold corridors of the [Emperor Dream], the threat spit out from the mouth of the forbidden army was accompanied by sharp cold air, which was still very deterrent, even more terrifying than the power halberd.

But all this, whether it was the arrogant Praetorian Army or his threatening words, for Akan Rand, who had been summoned from Mars on a special trip, was just a few innocuous words of harassment, and it was not worth taking seriously at all.

The gifted Omnisaiah cultist, without even looking at the Praetorian Army, walked through the array of dangerous guards and into the darkness at the end of the porch: the last leg of the way to the Great Laboratory, and the last chance for Rand to adjust his mind.

He was too excited, too excited to even think of what to say next, but he wasn't to blame: no one of Omnisaiah's followers would have done better than Rand in his current position

By the time of the last sunset, Rand had been serving Mars and the human empire diligently for decades: even if you look at all the Omniceans in the galaxy, he is one of the most gifted and meritorious people.

Even the most hostile rivals of Rand will call him an unborn genius with admiration: Rand had mastered fifty languages by the age of five, and in the years that followed, he devoted all his energy to excavating the legacy of those dark ages, and became the first and most important expert on technical archaeology in the Empire of Man.

He'd delved into the Catechism's Hall in the mantle, and he had mapped the countless data catacombs beneath Mars, dangerous enough to bury several legions, but he always managed to get out of it: not to mention the Rand Raider series named after him, the brightest jewel in archaeology, even though Rand himself didn't like the name, preferring to call the vehicle the Marauder-class main battle tank.

There are two reasons for this: first, he is the discoverer of the RAND Raiders, not the inventor, and it is too offensive to name him after him, and the second is that although the RAND Raiders have become one of the most important heavy weapons in the Great Expedition, the Rand himself who discovered this weapon is a true pacifist.

At the very least, he considers himself a true pacifist.

He prefers the relatively little-known Rand Creeper series, which has already set off an agricultural revolution in countless imperial worlds, to the famous Rand Raider series: the archaeological excavation of this great agricultural harvester is his proudest achievement, which he always declares.

Although his superiors, colleagues, and rivals didn't think so, Rand didn't care what they thought, and his arrogance naturally drew countless critics, who responded with more remarkable achievements and maintained his maverick.

He maintained a pragmatic mind, and even if it was ordered by his superiors, he would only carry it out after exercising his own judgment: Rand once proudly believed that he would maintain this rare independent thinking until he could advance to the very end of the path of truth.

However, just a few months ago, the simplest and most simple order from the [Imperial Dream] tore this pride of Akhan-Rand to pieces: the walking Omni Sayah, the true face of the god of all machines, actually sent a command to Mars himself, in which he hand-picked the name of [Akan-Rand], asking him to leave immediately for the fleet of the Lord of Mankind.

The Machine God needs his strength.

These brief words, only a ripple at the bottom of the paper, were enough to dim all of Rand's past glory, and he immediately set off from Mars, wearing the jealous and crazy gaze of countless colleagues and superiors, all the way to the laboratory of the Ten Thousand Machine God: this would be the most glorious page of his life.

He was incredibly convinced.

In this way, Rand stood at the door of the laboratory, and he did not knock, because he believed that Omni Siaiah had sensed his coming, and that he would summon him at the right time: such an idea was realized in a matter of seconds, and the voice of the god of all machines pierced through the space and echoed in Rand's mind, the voice was as pure as a machine, and it was completely in line with all of Rand's ideas for Omnisaiah.

So, the great Martian genius breathed with a little difficulty, and he checked all the furnishings one last time before he stepped through the huge door that opened automatically: the smell of nutrient-rich gels and ancient metals came to his face, followed by the sound of coordinated gears, like a wonderful world, opening its arms before him.

Rand tried his best to suppress the urge to cry, his irritated brain could not think of a perfect greeting now, only relying on instinct to keep his legs moving forward at an even speed: the operating table in the center of the laboratory was so conspicuous, and the incarnation of the god of all machines stood there, his voice echoing in Rand's mind unmistakably, but the auditory sensors did not respond, which was undoubtedly a convincing manifestation of divinity.

Rand was intoxicated for a few seconds, but as he reached the edge of the Shadowless Lamp, his powerful willpower forced his brain back to reason: the Machine God had summoned him for his wisdom and advice, not for the frenzy of his heart.

So, reason returned, and then, the real appearance of reality, those noisy voices that made people frown, all poured into Rand's mind at this moment.

He finally noticed that there was not only one Myriad God in this room, there seemed to be another person communicating with Myriad Mystery, and the communication between them was not harmonious, it was more like a very common thing in any casting world...... Academic controversy?

“……”

Anyone would dare to engage in an academic argument with Omnisaiah?!

Is he finally hallucinating happily?!

Thunder exploded in Rand's heart, but before he could see it clearly. Seeing that the god of all machines had already turned around, and couldn't wait to get rid of the useless quarrel, he looked at Rand and called his name accurately.

+ You are coming, Akhan. ＋

The god of all machines continued.

+ It's been a great journey for you: it's been a great help for me to come and join me in my business: please accept my gratitude. ＋

“…… Adult ......"

At this moment, Rand forgot even to breathe, and forgot the honorific title in his mouth, and instinctively bent down to meet this Omni with supreme etiquette: but before he could act, the Emperor had already taken a prescient step forward, and let his holy light sprinkle Rand's eyes.

+ Do not kneel: I hope that here is an assistant, not a believer. ＋

After saying this, the Lord of Humanity was silent for about a minute, until the Martian genius in front of him fully regained his will, and then the Emperor missed his body and pointed to the other end of the operating table, holding his hands on his chest, scanning the genoplasm here without any waves.

+ This is my daughter and my number one assistant in this experiment, she has helped me a lot with many issues, and this time was no exception. ＋

+ You should know her...... ＋

The Emperor said something again, but it didn't matter: when Rand's eyes first looked at the blue pupils, he had already recognized who the madman who dared to argue with Omnisaiah was.

Morgan.

The monarch of Avalon, the genetic prototype of the Dawnbreaker Legion, the writer of the great [Psionic Sacred Text] series, the only female among the seventeen heirs of Omnisaiah, the rumored most compassionate and weak primordial in the central intestines, a great figure sung by mortals and psionics, and the goddess of the sea and the goddess of lanterns in the galaxy of the human empire in the galaxy.

Meantime......

She is also the most hated person on Mars in general, and Casting General in particular.

Perhaps, there is no one.

——————

[So, are we going to continue the argument we just had, Father?] 】

The Spider Queen's vision swept over Akhan-Rand's face without sorrow or joy, she had certainly heard of this famous Martian genius, and she knew very well why he had been summoned here by his own genetic father: the only thing that Morgan had imagined was that this legendary maverick genius behaved like a mediocre mortal when confronted by the Lord of Humanity.

Morgan raised her eyebrows, she was a little curious about how the emperor's mortal people portrayed her image: in Morgan's Far Eastern frontier, her mortal assistants or people under her rule, although they would also be extremely excited to be summoned by the primordial, but they would not show such a posture of believers.

The mortals living in the Far Eastern Frontier preferred to see Morgan as their great leader and peacemaker, the source and guarantee of their stable life, rather than some ethereal god: the Lord of Avalon was satisfied with this status.

+ Of course: although this debate itself is of little value. ＋

In front of her vision, the Lord of Humanity confessed a few words to Rand before turning to look at his daughter: the Emperor and the Protos each occupied one side of the operating table, and Angelon's sleeping body stood between them like a rough piece of meat to be slaughtered.

+ You still hold on to your point of view. ＋

The voice of the Lord of Mankind was not like an inquiry, but more like a helpless sigh for his daughter.

[Of course.] 】

Morgan raised her tone slightly, her fingers tapping on the monitor next to her, which was covered with dense analysis charts of various modifications around the Butcher's Nail: she and her genetic father had been arguing about these things for almost half an hour.

In the end, there was really only one core topic of contention left.

[I still insist on my opinion, Angron's sustainability is more important than his ability: yes, some additional manipulation of the Butcher's Nail body may cause Anglon's thinking ability to be bruised, making him unable to expand the empire as efficiently as other primordials, but this can also significantly slow down the Butcher's Nail to the continuous and deeper destruction of Anglon's mind, if it is done well, maybe until five hundred years later, Angelon will still be able to walk in the galaxy in a normal manner. 】

+ But that's just a waste. ＋

The Emperor frowned, he did not agree with Morgan's suggestion that manipulating the Butcher's Nail itself on top of the existing plan of action would undoubtedly greatly increase the likelihood of failure.

+ After all, this suggestion of yours is just gambling, Morgan, have you forgotten what I told you before I came: not to mention that as a genetic proto, Twelve's main mission is focused on the next hundred to fifty years, and it doesn't mean much to him to survive in the distant future, and the most important thing he should do is to destroy as many enemies as possible for the empire and humanity in the limited time. ＋

【……】

The coldness of the human lord's words made Morgan's breath stagnate, and it was at this moment that the illusion that the Spider Empress had been given by the easier and easier relationship before was torn apart by the emperor's own hands: the Lord of Avalon was once again told in the most brutal way what kind of person her genetic father was.

And the emperor's words continued.

+ Your proposal will cause the Butcher's Nail to interfere with other brain tissues and organs, making it impossible for Twelve to command the War Dog Legion as well as his other brothers, and the Twelfth Legion will be far behind: this is not a simple matter of talking about it here, it will involve hundreds of worlds and countless people above them. ＋

[Can these mortals be worth more than Angron? 】

Morgan's breathing was a little heavy, which led her to utter something that even she felt a little presumptuous: although the Spider Empress also sincerely believed that the life of the progenitor was higher than that of countless mortals, she would never express it directly.

Although, the emperor was not surprised by Morgan's words, and it was this kind of unwavering calmness that made Morgan feel frightened: no matter what, Angelon was also a genetic prototype, her kind, and the emperor's cold attitude towards him was enough to make Morgan feel sad that the rabbit had died.

In front of her, Morgan's genetic father was speaking slowly, coldly, and unquestionably: this sentence was the final verdict of the debate.

+ The value of the individual is meaningless in the face of absolute numbers. ＋

+ Even you. ＋

+ Don't forget, you are noble not because you are genetics, but because you are the sharpest weapon of the Empire, the greatest general, and a strategic being on the same level as the Legion: if you can't do that, you're not in a position to talk about privileges. ＋

[But ......]

+ Enough! ＋

The Emperor's voice was heavy, and he waved his hand, interrupting the genoplasm that was about to say something, and then pointed to Rand, who was already standing aside, and gave a new order to his daughter.

+ I let the best genius of Mars come here thousands of miles away, not for him to listen to your nonsense here: instead of fighting for the future rights and interests of the 12th here, it is better to start the next operation immediately, and get the things in front of you right, Morgan, and lay the groundwork to be qualified to discuss more. ＋

With that, the Lord of Humanity stopped bothering with his puffy daughter, and his gaze returned to Rand's body, and from the cabinet next to the operating table, he pulled out a presence that struck Rand's eyes: an ancient instrument that could drive any Omnisaiah mad man, and it could only come from the greatest technological civilization.

The emperor's voice rang out.

+ It's called the Chainbeetle, and Rand is one of the three items that my unsavory daughter got in exchange for when she traded with one of her partners: and it was also an important item for us to use next. ＋

"Intoxicating art, sir...... What do you need me to do? ”

Rand was silent for only a second before he realized the intention of the Ten Thousand Machine God to summon him.

+ It's simple. ＋

The Emperor nodded: it was clear that he appreciated Rand's attitude now more than Morgan's stubbornness.

+ I know that you are the most knowledgeable scholar of the Butcher's Nail on all of Mars: I need you to make full use of this to your advantage, and combine the Butcher's Nail with the Lockbeetle in a limited way. ＋

+ And this is combined with the product. ＋

+ It is me, and this number twelve in front of me, what needs most right now. ＋

“……”

Rand hesitated.

"It would be a terrible torture, my lord: one of the most terrible tortures in the galaxy."

+ Rest assured. ＋

The Emperor turned his head, he didn't care about the question at all.

+ What I have for this thing is just the right amount of scum. ＋

(End of chapter)