vncnus Page 192
Page 192
That is, they are all think tanks.
Roger Dorn has gathered together the most powerful psionicists in Amighadoton, and his purpose is now revealed.
Roger Dorn turned around, looked at the group of people behind him who were all emanating powerful psionic energy, and spoke calmly.
"I believe you all have your own questions, such as why I gathered you all together, and why everyone I gathered is a think tank."
No one spoke, but from the most subtle changes in their expressions, they had already acknowledged that the question Roger Dorn had asked was the deepest question in their hearts.
"The purpose of my gathering you here is actually quite simple: to make a crucial preparation for the battle to come."
Roger Dorn stretched out his hand and pointed to a tower that was under construction.
"I think you've heard some of the messages I've sent out, such as information about our enemy this time. Now I'm telling you, that information is completely accurate. The enemy we're facing this time is my former brother, a traitor to the Empire, a Primarch who has now become a lackey of Chaos, or, in today's terms, the Son of God."
Some people showed expressions of shock. After all, hearing about it is one thing, but confirming the news in person gives a completely different feeling.
"Father."
A think tank member spoke up; his title alone revealed him to be a member of the Sons of Dorne. All eyes turned to him, drawn to the white power armor he wore.
"Are you absolutely certain you can defeat that traitor?"
After hearing the think tank's question, everyone turned their attention back to Roger Dorn. They looked at Roger Dorn, and even a stone could feel the emotions, hopes, desires, and trust contained in their eyes.
Roger Dorn shook his head, his voice still devoid of any emotion.
"Dorel, I'm not entirely confident. In fact, I can tell you that I'm not even 50% sure I can beat Peturabo and his assembled hordes."
A look of shock flashed across the face of the think tank member named Dorell; clearly, he hadn't expected Roger Dorn to give such a response.
After all, even if his opponent was also a "son of God" like Roger Dorne, Dorell believed that the opponent would not surpass his genetic father, Roger Dorne.
"The power of chaos is indeed strong. I cannot be sure of the extent to which Perturabo's power has reached ten thousand years from now."
Roger Dorn said.
"Moreover, even disregarding his personal strength, Perturabo himself was a master of war. He and his legions were renowned for their sieges and conquests ten thousand years ago, and they excelled in protracted warfare. Even more terrifying was his creative ability. He was an absolute genius, and in some respects, he could be said to be the most powerful of all the Primarchs."
Roger Dorn's description of Peturabo plunged the think tank members present into a long silence, until someone spoke again after a considerable time.
"Sir, you have a way, don't you?"
"In this world, there is no such thing as an everlasting wall, nor a spear that never breaks."
For the first time, Roger Dorn's voice contained emotion—a solemn emotion with a powerful impact that shook the listener to their core, dispelling any unease or hesitation.
"I cannot guarantee whether my plans, tactics, and methods will be effective or whether they can completely defeat Peturabo."
Roger Dorn straightened his chest majestically, raised his undamaged hand, and clenched his fingers into a fist.
"But I can assure you that I will exist with Amighadoon until my complete death, until victory or death."
-----------------
Lin Qi took a deep breath and looked at the constantly changing clown mask in front of him, speaking with some impatience.
"Are you done yet? I'm in a hurry to get back. Peturabo is coming soon. Also, are there any of your clown troupes or Eldar under your command near Amegadoton? If so, tell them to hurry to Amegadoton. Since you're in this together, don't even think about playing it safe. All in, all in, let's do something big!"
The clown mask stopped changing, and looking at the comical smiling face on it, Lynch felt a strong sense of resentment.
"Last time."
A message was transmitted and entered Lin Qi's consciousness.
"To help you, I lost several of my best prophets, and even that poor child Eldrad almost died."
"That was an agreed-upon deal. If you want to play the victim, find something that doesn't require payment. Also, those who use PUA tactics should take a look at their own race. The fact that the galaxy is in this state is largely the responsibility of your Elf race, you know? Your Elf race's responsibility!"
Lin Qi's tone carried a hint of disappointment, and after hearing Lin Qi's words, the clown mask revealed a trace of embarrassment.
"I tried to persuade them back then... but they wouldn't listen..."
"Severance? Sophistry? Have you forgotten the first condition of our cooperation?"
"I'm sorry, I admit my mistake."
Lin Qi sneered and beckoned with his finger.
The clown mask sighed, and a slip of paper flew out and landed in Lin Qi's hand.
Lin Qi lowered his head, glanced at the information on it, and his expression suddenly changed.
"One hundred thousand Astartes? Are you kidding me?!"
"To be precise, it's 120,000."
The clown mask slowly opened its mouth.
"Ten thousand years have passed, and there have been so many battles in the Astartes. The last time I saw this was during your human expedition."
"...Is there any way to make them lose their way in the warp?"
"I don't advise you to do this."
The clown mask spoke a warning.
"After frequently using your power, your already incomplete recovery has been significantly damaged. Forcibly creating a subspace storm now would be tantamount to overdrawing your strength. Moreover, they are all watching you now. The Lord of Humanity and I have helped you conceal your whereabouts to some extent, but if you make another move, we will be helpless. Your primary task now is to return to your physical body as soon as possible after the war ends. Only by achieving the union of spirit and flesh can you become like the Lord of Humanity ten thousand years ago, truly possessing the capital to lead humanity's revival."
"And what about you and Neos?"
"The Lord of Mankind should now focus his energy elsewhere. As for me, the Lord of the Soul Forge protects Perturabo, and the Prince of Pleasure is also secretly watching everything."
Lin Qi remained silent. After receiving the deciphered intelligence, he gained a clearer understanding of the crisis the situation was in.
"However, there might be another way."
"any solution?"
"The internet may hold the opportunity to tip the scales of war in your favor."
The clown mask began to change, and he grew a human torso and limbs, wearing a black bodysuit. However, he still wore the clown mask, and his ears were different from normal human ears, being pointed.
“My people have searched for him many times, but he always runs away so fast that we can’t catch him at all. That’s how it is with these Primarchs who have awakened their true nature. I really don’t know how the Lord of Humanity managed to put those things into a mortal body.”
The God of Laughter sighed and shook his head slightly.
"I'll go find him myself. However, if he also appears in the material universe, then inevitably another enemy will appear. I just hope things won't get any worse."
Chapter 226 Long Time No See, My Brother/Traitor
"Besides you, how many other people were sent out as the advance team?"
"You lackey of the false emperor... die..."
"I will only die after you."
The explosive shot rang out, piercing a large hole in the helmet of the MK3 power armor worn by the Iron Warrior. The explosive blast pulverized his brains and skull, mixing them into his blood and spreading to form a pool of blood on the ground.
Lysander stood aside and witnessed the entire process of the priest interrogating and killing the Iron Warrior they had captured. Only when the traitor's body fell heavily to the ground did he speak, his tone filled with a heavy anger and an underlying confusion.
“Irwin, this is the fifth traitor squad to appear in the last three days.”
The interrogation priest, whose full name was Erwin Watt, did not immediately speak to Lysander. He crouched down, extended a hand, and gently stroked the Iron Warrior's clean power armor, which was so clean it didn't seem like that of a Chaos traitor. When he touched the eight-pointed star symbol of Chaos on the shoulder armor, a raging fire blazed in his eyes. He activated the power scepter in his hand, the battery fed him with energy, and blue lightning enveloped the square-shaped scepter head, causing a crackling sound to echo in the air.
Without hesitation, Erwin raised the scepter high and then slammed it down hard on the shoulder armor.
puff.
Flesh and blood, along with the terracotta armor, were smashed to pieces. Faced with the power of the power weapon, the Astartes' power armor, made of sturdy terracotta, was no different from paper. The corpse's shoulder was deeply caved in, with only a small amount of flesh and blood holding the arm and the rest together, preventing it from completely becoming two parts of the body.
"Throw this corpse into the void, set up a beacon on it, and let those traitors see the consequences of invading the empire."
"Irwin said, and the two Imperial Fist warriors behind him immediately obeyed, dragging the mangled body of the Iron Warrior toward the ship's torpedo launch bay.
Judging from their practiced manner, this was clearly not their first time doing something like this. Just like the conversation between the Imperial Fist company commander and the priest—in the recent Terran days, some Iron Warrior units had begun appearing in the void not far from Amegiddon. These units were generally small, mostly consisting of only a few ships, the kind of forces that could be wiped out by a single salvo from the navy.
But their focus has never been on their size, but rather on their presence.
Whether they were bait or reconnaissance troops released here by Peturabo, whether they arrived at their destination unexpectedly ahead of time due to the characteristics of the warp, or whether they appeared before the Empire for some other reason.
Their appearances all tell the story of one thing.
That is the massive army of Perturabo and his descendants, not far away. It could be tomorrow, today, or even in the next Terra, or in the next minute, or even the next second. They will break free from the warp and appear in this void, bringing a new apocalyptic war to the Imperium.
Yes, Revelation.
Certified by the Imperial Military Affairs Department, the upcoming war in Amegidodton is an absolute apocalyptic war, even among the most intense in the Apocalypse. Hundreds of thousands of Astartes will be gathered together for a brutal carnage, while the mortal Astral Army will be sacrificed in regiments.
Lysander heard that the news had reached all the major sectors of the Empire. As long as there was no major crisis, the governments and Astartes Chapters stationed in those sectors had basically sent forces as reinforcements. Terra had expressed its full support for these actions. Under the watchful eyes of the Guardians, the High Lords signed the War Act, giving the ancient and decaying Empire a rare glimmer of life.
However, the Imperial Guard regretfully stated that they could not participate in this battle. Lysander expressed his understanding. Many years ago, after these palace guards suddenly changed their nature, they began to frequently represent the Emperor in purging the Imperial Insects within the solar system. It was said that the Imperial Guard Marshal had even traveled to Mars with a warrant, the contents of which were unknown. However, it was visibly true that the Martian lads had become much more obedient since that day. Meanwhile, within the Mechanicus Temple on Mars, a golden figure appeared in a shadowy corner.
Therefore, even though the empire is currently outnumbered and at a disadvantage on paper, the future is not entirely hopeless.
Hold firm! There's a way!
Just then, Lysander realized that the two recruits who had just been sent by the priest to launch the corpses had also run back. They nodded, indicating that their assigned task was complete.
"Are the thermal bombs ready?"
Lysander activated the communication channel and inquired about another Imperial Fist strike team aboard the Iron Warriors' escort ship.
"The thermal bomb is ready and can be activated at any time."
"Alright, start the countdown, we'll teleport back to the Steadfast Resolve immediately."
Lysander said that soon he heard another strike team report that the molten metal bombs had been activated. Without hesitation, he and the others immediately activated their teleportation devices. A strange sense of detachment washed over him, blurring the world before his eyes, and he began to hear mutterings in an unknown language. When his blurred vision cleared and the mutterings disappeared, he had successfully teleported from the Iron Warriors' escort ship back to the Imperial Fist's strike cruiser "Unwavering Resolve".
The teleportation point was a room inside the strike cruiser. Through the observation windows, Lysander and his team could see the enemy warship several kilometers away. They stared at the warship, which was entirely black, with a seemingly normal hull but actually filled with twisted flesh growing from its gaps. The analysis system on their helmets helped them detect a strong heat reaction at the rear of the warship. This reaction then triggered a series of chain reactions, successfully initiating a violent explosion that turned the several-kilometer-long frigate into a dazzling display of sparks in the void.
After the sparks, something emitting a faint blue light flew along due to inertia—it was the corpse of the Iron Warrior that had just been launched, covered with a layer of cheap oil. This oil was usually used by gangs at the bottom of the hive for their inferior vehicles. However, the Mechanicus members unexpectedly discovered that if this stuff was applied to certain objects, it would cause those objects to show additional signal responses when scanned by the oracle.
This discovery was put to use. After each destruction of the enemy fleet, the responsible team would select a "lucky one," ruthlessly crush the chaotic symbols on his body, coat him with this substance, and then throw him into the void.
Initially, this plan was carried out by a Space Wolf warrior. Obviously, the first "lucky one" must have said something indecent to make a wolf do such a thing.
But when word of this reached Roger Dorn's ears, to everyone's surprise, he chose to promote it.
What's the point of such behavior? Provocation? Can such a low-level provocation really work against a Primarch?
Danas Lysander said it could not only be useful, but could even be very useful.
After all, this wasn't his first time fighting against the Iron Warriors. Throughout his legendary life spanning hundreds of years, he had not only clashed with the Chaos bastards of the Iron Warriors on numerous occasions, but had even faced some of their high-ranking members known as the "Warsmiths."
War blacksmith.