Warhammer: Start with a dog

The lumens inside and outside the small living room have been adjusted to softer tones and brightness to allow the guests sitting here to feel emotionally relaxed. Lamizane even put some soothing lights on despite the unkind eyes of his own dog. Incense used.

[Your love for this stupid big red-haired Virgin with big breasts and no brains and nothing but meat, which is almost close to vulgar taste, is best to stop in moderation, Lamy Zane. 】

[Isn’t it a bit too much to say that, Pepe, love is a beautiful thing and feeling... Besides, Angron has a brain now, who doesn’t like it... I mean, cough, Perturabo , baby, among all the primarchs, you are my favorite! 】

【……snort. 】

"Anyway, I'm still very happy because I can finally meet you in person, and I'm also very happy to see that the matter is basically settled for the time being." The tall red-haired demigod sat Full of mechanical style and very comfortable decorated with large and small cushions, soft cushions, curtains and green plants, someone's private style living room said to the person who had taken off the disguise...the original body.

The Twelfth Primarch held a cup of hot spiced black tea in his generous palm. The cup of the average size of the Primarch also seemed a bit too small in his hand, and those precious tea leaves were made by someone who is not here now. The Primarch contributed "voluntarily".

He did not have his own heirs guarding him. Although the Iron Heart monks, who were scarred and regretful for their wavering behavior, strongly requested that a team of elites be left beside the Gene Father, even if they could not enter the room, they would still be guarding him. They could do it outside the door, but the Twelfth Primarch asked gently but firmly - ordering them to go to the iron-Destiny Steel's infirmary to rest first, where their own apothecary brothers accompanying them could treat everyone.

"If you still obey me and love me, my children, go to the medical deck of the Destiny Steel and obtain your full recovery as a contribution to me, and then present the proof of your recovery as this medal. Under my throne."

Perturabo made a disapproving sound when he heard this sentence, but after all, his fluffy long tail swayed slightly in the cockpit out of some positive emotions.

——————The screen returns to the current small living room————

Under Angron's deep eye sockets, there is still a hint of fatigue and blackness that has not faded. Although he also suffered some physical injuries due to the invasion of Khorne in the previous riots, mainly due to the rapid proliferation of muscle tears everywhere. Cracks and skin bursts - but the terrifying self-healing ability of the Primarch is fully sufficient to deal with those flesh wounds. What really causes these Primarchs to show signs of fatigue is some invisible, spiritual power. Consumption, or in other words, mental consumption.

Although the great sage "Kaidomo" or the temporary resident of the fourth primarch's body, Mr. Lamizane Carosini, sang and attacked (?) more and more passionately in front of everyone, the first one After crawling out of the sea of ​​blood, Angron regained consciousness and returned to rational thoughts. He quickly assisted the Iron Ring Guards in collecting the minds and bodies of most of his accompanying descendants.

But in order to better use his ability to appease every painful soul that unfortunately falls into the wrath of the Blood God and cannot escape quickly, and drag them out of the Brass War Hell as soon as possible (the longer they are trapped, the more likely they will not be able to come back) Angron, without the support of enough members of the Iron Heart Monastery, special mysteries, and ritual supplies, forcibly sorted out and absorbed the negative emotions in dozens of souls that exceeded the normal level.

The Astartes, whose souls were soothed by their father, eventually fell into a sweet sleep like babies, and were then sent to the Destiny Steel infirmary in orbit. However, Angron, who had obviously completed the treatment, was not as good as he appeared in front of his heirs. easy.

Just like just now, when he entered the small living room and closed the door to block the worried gazes of his heirs in the distance, who turned around every step of the way, Angron's huge body began to sway from side to side, and when he finally stood on the huge original-size sofa , and then immediately sunk himself into the comfortable sofa and lay down, letting out a long, heavy, and relieved sigh.

"Ah." Angron said, "This sofa is indeed as comfortable as I imagined." He stroked the surface of the sofa, "This is good, I think, maybe I can also set up a sofa like this on the Desert Ark later. s room."

The Contemptor walked fearlessly to the sofa, and the sound of exhaust was heard around its crew compartment. Then the hatch opened, and a black-and-white stuffed tyrant looked down at the eyes of the lying giant with a haughty attitude. .

"snort."

"ah."

Angron blinked at the black and white plush tyrant, as if he had confirmed something for the first time, and then turned his attention to another person present - "Kaidomo" the great mechanical sage who was no longer where he was at some point. , the huge and deformed mechanical shell stood aside. There, watching the Twelfth Gene with a hint of curiosity, was a younger, gentler version of the brother Angron once thought he knew but who learned of his inevitable betrayal and patiently awaited his return for many years. Primarch.

The red-haired giant stood up slightly, straightening his back and sitting up straighter.

He looked around.

"Lami Zane... Chapter Master?" Seeing such a vivid and rich expression of surprise on the face of his fourth brother, who was known for his cruelty, ruthlessness and lack of fun, the 12th Primarch felt that it was... Even the heavy mental fatigue seemed to have mostly disappeared.

"Perturabo...my brother...?" The black-and-white demon primarch raised his plump and fluffy bib mane high on his chest, and the way his eyes wandered around was really rare and strange. What a scene.

Angron laughed, and the Conqueror of Nuceria, the iron-hearted Benevolent One, laughed heartily. His laughter was loud but not sarcastic, clean, hearty, and pleasant, as one would think The kind of laughter a true warrior and hero would give. As his joyful mood spread uncontrollably, a layer of soft mental ripples also spread bit by bit with his laughter, making all living creatures who felt it unconsciously smile at the corners of their mouths.

Lamizane felt that the knotted threads of thought in the depths of his mind seemed to be gently brushed by an invisible force. It was not tightening those threads of thoughts that were already tight. On the contrary, it was a gentle feeling of relaxation. , his shoulders fell loosely, and at the same time he also felt the soreness and stiffness in the muscles of his neck and shoulders that he had not noticed for a long time - how long had they been unconsciously tense like this?

"Honestly, I thought you were a little... older."

Angron said to his real fourth brother, "But you do look as touchable as I imagined."

"Hmph. You'd better not try to put your hands up."

"Of course. Not now." The red-haired giant smiled, then turned his head to Lamizane, "Nice to meet you, Chapter Leader Lamizane. Then let me formally introduce myself. - Wu Naian Gronn, the twelfth scion of our father, Primarch of Ironheart, Angron of Nuceria."

"Thank you... and for your hard work." Angron said softly.

At that moment, Lamizane felt as if he saw huge illusory silver-white wings appearing behind the red-haired demigod.