Marcan Ferros's most absurd fantasies never appeared in such a scene.

Space Marines are mostly pragmatic, and the Iron Hand is the best of them, so Ferros rarely makes fantasies - but that doesn't matter, it's just a metaphor.

In the 10,000 years since the Great Rebellion, the original body of loyalty and betrayal has gradually disappeared from people's sight, and the relevant history has faded into dust for a long time, turning into whitewashed words in religious texts, or fairy tales and legends that have been added to the mouth of mortals. Even in the turn of the millennium not long ago, the Ultramarine's original body Robert Killiman re-walked in the world, was crowned regent of the empire, brought the original casting technology, and launched an unyielding expedition with the power of thunder, which can be called the salvation of the empire and fire and water, Feros still felt that the concept of "original body" was far away from him.

The empire is huge, and there is only one primordial. It was a privilege to be able to meet the original body, but due to rigorous logic and probabilistic reasoning, Ferros did not think that he would have this opportunity in his lifetime.

However, after all, human beings are unable to incorporate all the information in reality into their calculations, so fate always operates in a way that is not so rigorous from a human perspective.

Conrad Coetzes in front of Ferros is a good proof of this: he never thought that he might meet the original body, let alone meet a mutinous original body. But he saw it now, and at a fairly close, frighteningly close distance.

Another problem he discovered because of this was that he had never really known what the "original body" was.

Admittedly, as a founding group that existed during the Great Expedition, there is no shortage of relevant accounts in the internal database of the Iron Hand. Each of the Battle Brothers will gradually come into contact with the history that has been passed down for thousands of years: the Father of Their Genes, the Fallen Primordial of the Emperor's Son, the bloody battle on Istavan V...... But after all, it has been passed down for 10,000 years, and history is always easy to distort.

Or perhaps it is not that the strictly inherited history of the warbands has been distorted over time, but that the heirs of 10,000 years later wishfully believe that these accounts that are too far away from them are not true enough. The emperor had been on the throne for too long, the original body had been lost for too long, so long that the old men who had traveled with him had gradually withered, and the facts were hidden behind the words, and they could only be speculated by relying on the imagination of later generations, which was gradually impoverished because they had never seen it.

Language is the bridge that human beings rely on to communicate, but no matter what kind of language it is, the information it can express will always pale in comparison with reality. Phyllos knew that many of his fighting brothers, including himself, had come to know this after reading the material: the Primordial was clearly stronger, faster, wiser, and more powerful. It cannot be said that such a realization is wrong, but human beings, even the Astarte monks, have a limit to their imagination in one thing.

Conrad Coetzes proved in the first moment of his appearance that the mere presence of a primordial could easily exceed the limits they could have imagined.

He didn't know how the other party did it. He wasn't standing alone in front of the line, he had other brothers in the warband around him, but the situation seemed to have become like this in an instant: the transmission systems of the three dreadnoughts were almost simultaneously disabled in an indistinguishable moment, five Midnight Lords in Terminator armor inexplicably flowed out of the shadows, and ten Primordial Forge brothers who had not undergone too many mechanical modifications were attacked almost simultaneously in the next moment, and they were all knocked to the ground three seconds later. The remaining six tribal veterans were tended by Coz himself—even Ferros's kinetic vision, enhanced by mechanical components, could barely tell the order of their attacks from the order in which their colleagues had fallen to the ground, and realize what had happened to them from the scattered biomorphs.

Even the mechanical arm on Ferros's own power pack inexplicably left him in a moment. He wanted to use them to react to the situation, but in fact, all he was left with was a sharp stinging pain at the nerve link.

It all happened within five seconds, and everyone had already fallen before they had time to fire, without even making much noise. Between the six separate battlefields where the Iron Hand encloses the main power room, and which can only communicate with each other via a data link, such a noise does not attract any attention. Ferros glanced at the runic signal directly displayed on the retina, and was both happy and sad to find that the state of their team on the rune was "no one has attrition".

This means that none of the fighting brothers actually die, and it means that no other team will take advantage of this to realize the problem.

"Someone said to me, 'The son of Ferus Manus is as angry as he is, and we need to start a dialogue on both sides when both sides are calm.'" Conrad Coetze, who was almost at one with the darkness, said in a tone that could be called "naughty," "It seems that now we can start talking." ”

Pheros...... Fellos had to calm himself down. He was actually angry, but the fragmented status quo of his own camp clearly did not support him to express this anger.

"What do you want?" In rational judgment, this is the most important question at the moment. Ferros asked this question, and the next second Coates heard the question, the expression on his face quickly switched from "excited" to "excited".

"If I tell you the truth, will you believe it?" It's a hypothetical question, and Coetzes clearly has a trustworthy answer to his own. He simply bypassed the question that had not bothered him to do even the slightest disguise—in fact, in the present situation, he did not need any disguise.

"To the ...... in front of me Stuff, what's going on in the main power room, do you guys have a clue? Coetze cut straight to what he thought was necessary, and Ferros couldn't help but repeat his question in confusion: "What are you going to do?" ”

"Fix the problem," Kotz replied with a look of disgust this time, "it's true, but you won't believe it." ”

Philos didn't speak. He really didn't believe it, but he didn't want to answer the questions raised by the other party, nor did he want to affirm the points made by the other party.

"So you're not going to speak?" "Or is it that you, as the commander of this entire battlefield, are incompetent enough to be ignorant of your enemies after losing almost half of your men?" ”

Of course not. His lineage from Ferus Manus made him unbearable for such an obvious insult, and the sensual side of Ferros was almost driven to retort by anger, but the rational side warned him not to fall for such obvious agitation by his enemies. He barely managed to keep a quiet silence in the face of his pent-up anger, and this quiet silence only made Coz angry.

"You should know that I have more and more painful ways to know from you what I need." He was so threatening.

However, Feros was unmoved: "I'm still interested in this, you can give it a try." ”

After the words fell, Ferros visibly felt a kind of anger from others. He had seen a lot of people get angry before, but he never knew that the emotion of "anger" could be so contagious. The anger of the original body was invisible, but it seemed to have actual weight, and when it fell on him, it even affected the function of the mechanical transformation of the lungs, crushing him to the point of breathlessness, and the light was twisted and deflected under such a heavy gravitational pull, and became dim.

Phyllos was mentally prepared for what he was going to suffer next, but Conrad Coetzes didn't do anything to him.

“…… Ketraro. The Midnight Lord Primordial randomly turned to one of his children, "Haven't I been a little too merciful lately?" ”

The Midnight Lord who was named winced visibly—even with the Terminator armor wrap. He first uttered a meaningless voice that could only say, "I hear but I think," and then he shuddered:

"I don't know, sir." He obviously didn't have any confidence in what he was saying, "What kind of answer do you want to hear?" ”

It's not a positive answer, but the overtones tell Coetz the real answer.

"If I hadn't been able to use you in the future, what you said would have been enough to keep you in the hospital room for a month. I hope you are aware of this. ”

"Yes, sir. Yes, my lord. Ketraro's voice sounded even relieved.

Conrad Coetze turned his head with a look of annoyance, stared at Markan Ferros, and muttered in a self-contained manner, "Well, I don't care what Rikka or Ferrus think about it." ”

He then reached out and grabbed the armor-wrapped head before Ferros realized it was time to dodge.

He didn't exert much force, and it seemed like a friendly contact, but Philos immediately sensed that something was wrong: as if he had been caught not just a physical shell, but something deeper, more essential. The latter instinctively frightened him.

Then, something terrible shattered his mind in an instant, piercing his soul, and the sheer force of it caused his memory to be turned upside down at the will of others, and to be completely opened to some higher being. Philos tried to resist, but all his efforts were like a mantis arm. He was forced to drift through his memories in his struggles, reliving every detail, every mistake, every tiny sin of his life in the past two hundred years—

Feros's physical flesh began to crack and shatter, his uncontrolled body screaming instinctively in pain.