Warhammer 40,000: Mortal Gods

…

Broome II land mass.

Areas reduced to scorched earth by fleet bombardment.

The flying demon primarch threw the "Thunder Warrior" in his hand to the ground.

The cloned Angron felt like he was stuffed into a cannon and then launched out. He quickly crossed a distance of thousands of meters and smashed through the ruins of the fortress on the scorched earth with a loud bang, and then embedded himself in a wall.

The clone tried to struggle, but as soon as he slid down the wall, the demonic original suddenly flashed in front of him and punched his head into the wall.

The Thunder Warrior's helmet withstood the bombardment of his fists.

But the demonic original then grabbed the clone's neck, raised his hand and clasped it on the helmet, roared and used force to tear off the entire helmet.

The braid fell out, and a familiar face appeared in the sight of the Daemon Primarch.

After a brief trance, the fist of the demonic original bombarded the clone's face like raindrops.

If anyone was nearby, they would definitely hear a sound like an explosion and the sound of the ground breaking.

Until the Daemon Primarch's fists were stained with blood, until he found his rage draining away and grew emotionally exhausted.

The bombardment stopped.

The clone's hand trembled and was raised, gently pressing against the face of the original demon.

Then, the clone exerted all its strength, clasped the face of the original demon tightly with its hands, and hit its head hard, knocking the original demon back a step by surprise.

"Who made you!" the Daemon Primarch roared.

"Fabius." The clone crawled out of the pit and straightened his dislocated facial bones. "I'm different from you. I'm not from a slave owner, but... a mad doctor with corrupt morals." …But it’s probably a little better than a slave owner.”

"Idiot! How could a mad doctor from the Emperor's Children legion clone the original body completely and give it memories!" the demonic original body roared, "You have been played, just like I have been played, we have all been played. We were all tricked by that golden slave master, including that stupid lunatic named Fabius in your mouth!"

Slave owners…

Even a clone can't help but wonder in his heart, is his persecution paranoia too severe? How can everything be transferred to a certain slave owner?

But there's no point in arguing, especially with an insane lunatic.

Clone Angron took out his spare weapon from his back, which was a living metal spear used by the Thunder Warriors.

He was not used to using weapons like spears, because in his impression, the guys who brought him away from his brothers and sisters to the damn slave masters were the ones who were shiny and used spears.

When he picked up the spear and thought about the past, clone Angron once again realized that he was a clone and did not necessarily have the same thoughts as his original body.

"I'll give you a chance to commit suicide!" The original demon held a giant sword and looked down at his clone body. "I don't want to chop you into pieces. You should know better."

"I want to fight." The clone gripped the spear tightly, "because we are enemies."

The Daemon Primarch was suddenly angered by these words.

"We are enemies? So you, a bastard without nails in your head, are still loyal to that damn slave master?"

The roar shook the eardrums of clone Angron, and his eyes were narrowed by the bloody wind generated from his mouth when the main body roared.

After the roar, the huge body of the demon primarch paced back and forth, yelling or complaining from his mouth.

"When I was a lackey like you, the slave owner's enemy I killed was bleeding like a river! This was not because I wanted recognition or military exploits, but because of that damn nail on my head! I obey gold The reason for the stinking meat on the throne is this damn mutation!"

"If I didn't have this nail, I might be like you, like most of our brothers, a bitch, a bastard who talks about benevolence and morality but has a bad belly. Maybe I can become a scholar, or Something else, right?”

"I might...I might be a good person...do you know why?"

The original demon suddenly stopped, staring at his clone with two scarlet vertical eyes.

The clone shook his head slowly: "Why?"

"Because if I didn't have this damn nail on my head! If I didn't become bloodthirsty by it, that damn slave owner wouldn't be able to control me through the properties of this nail..."

"So……"

The Daemon Primarch panted violently.

"Then I will fucking walk into the Himalayan Palace, chop off that damn slave-owner bastard's head with one knife, and hang it high on the palace wall!"

When he heard that the emperor's head was cut off and hung on the city wall, the clone Angron nodded, but shook his head.

He felt that to him the Emperor was just a slave master, but to the other Primarchs the Emperor would at least pretend to be fatherly.

For Guilliman or Horus, it would definitely be uncomfortable if the Emperor's head was cut off and hung on the city wall.

"Although you are just a fake, your luck is much better than mine, but you still choose to be a lackey for that damn slave owner bastard?" The demonic original walked up to the clone, grabbed the clone's neck, and let out a hateful voice. The question of whether iron can become steel.

When faced with the question, the clone struggled to answer: "I... don't work for that slave owner... I am fighting for the entire human race... the people I fight for... and the audience on Nukyria It’s different... they don’t deserve to die... besides, I don’t want to be... a lunatic like you..."

"Look at your virtue..."

The daemon primarch noticed the fake's eyes studying him.

"If you...you go back now...face those gladiator brothers and sisters...you will definitely chop them...them..."

"Because you have become a puppet...a puppet working for something worse than a slave owner..."

The clone still had something to say, but the demonic original had no patience to listen anymore. He raised the giant sword, but he still failed to chop it down.

This is not to say that he is unwilling to attack a clone, but that the original demon can always feel that his emotions are being withdrawn. This feeling is unprecedented, which makes him more awake and able to think.

"You said you are fighting for the entire human race? Huh?" The demon primarch let go of his hand, "You have met a new tyrant who is more dangerous than the slave owner. What bullshit is for humanity? These are all the tyrants controlling you. This method will make you fall into an illusion created by reasons that are even more ridiculous than the reasons for the Great Expedition, and lose the judgment you are lucky enough to retain!"

The alliance leader’s update was achieved. Sorry, brothers. Various things happened a while ago, which led to the completion of the update task now. Sorry.