"How is the situation now?" Angron Petra asked in a gentle tone, while letting his natural abilities be carefully used to appease another demigod - maybe even the strongest among them. Big, this does require a lot of skill and experience in appeasing metahumans, but fortunately the Supreme Tyrant of Nuceria has both.

And at the other end of the elegantly decorated room, the black-and-white border collie scowled sternly in his fearlessness.

His low roar invisibly releases pressure to the surroundings.

The most elite group of Iron Ring mechs have already arrived after being summoned by the Lord of Iron. They hold thunder hammers and storm shields in their hands, mingling with members of the Honor Guard and crowding the originally large office.

And many of the members of the Honor Guard who have been guarding them since the moment they returned from the bottom of the sea and serve as senior staff officers, senior errand boys or other positions at any time have only now had a kind of love that can truly be imprinted in their souls until the end of their lives. It dawned on him that this stuffed creature, which had been inevitably suspected, contained within it the soul of a Primarch, a scion of the Emperor, Master of the Legion.

It was a feeling of pressure and powerlessness that a mortal would feel standing in front of the vast deep sea. Even a roar from Perturabo can violently shock and shock the strengthened and modified mind of the Astartes, almost making these leaders of their tribe feel an infinite and almost "instinctive fear" feeling.

It was like the blood pumping out of the heart of a short Homo erectus armed with a crude stick tens of thousands of years ago when he faced an adult dire wolf alone.

Angron's excellent primarch vision allowed him to notice that behind Perturabo's brown irises, he could see that the whites of his eyes were obviously congested and turned pink, indicating the level of stress and mood the Iron Lord was experiencing.

"Not so good." He growled lowly, "Damn it, this is where I was supposed to go!"

The dangerous guttural sound of the powerful being made the four hearts of Tavitz and Loken, who were standing closest, beat violently. The warriors once again had the urge to tighten their weapons in their hands. Only Aharin, who was standing closest, obviously used something else. Emotions overcome this.

"My opinion is the same as yours." The former regent raised his head from Lamizane's sleeping body and said, "This situation is a bit dangerous. Things are always like this. It is easy to make mistakes, but to let They get back on track like pushing a stone ball up from the bottom of a mountain.”

In the stasis cage on the other side of the room, a large and slender body is still suspended there, but it seems a little thinner, like a "shadow" that "originally" casts in this reality.

"Speak humanly. Or I will just pull your brain out of your dry neck and put it in an iron ring so that you, an old man who should have been burned to ashes long ago, can speak more pleasantly. "Perturabo's attitude became obviously bad in a place where no one could see it, which made everyone in the room who was familiar with him look like "Ah, it really is so".

"You speak a little irritably..."

"I (ancient Terran expletive) can be a little more violent! Like putting your heads on the bridge and watching your bodies being stuffed into cannonballs and being shot out! After all, you are not on Terra, blowing all the shit out of you. Put it in that aesthetically built palace! This is my territory, you’d better realize this.”

"Oh." Apparently among the people in this office, only the former regent was very accustomed to the pressure exerted on him by the Primarch. He even let this person because the source of the pressure this time was a beautiful grinning black and white dog. The white-haired old man was a little hesitant: Should he coax the beautiful dog to touch the mane on the back of his head first, or should he tell the dog what he wanted to know first?

Angron, who vaguely felt this on the side, turned his gaze to Magna, who seemed to be watching all this happily (?), and saw the Supreme Tyrant of Nuceria turning his gaze to him. The man trapped in Dorne The being in the golden power armor-shaped iron ring flashed its green goggles at Angron happily.

Angron silently turned his gaze back.

Dear teacher, staying on this boat for a long time has made me feel a lot of mental pressure. My head really hurts. It seems like something is eating my brain. Haha, it must be a hallucination. How can it come out of thin air? I have this kind of thing in my mind. Lamizane, come back safely soon...

"...In short, the current situation of space-time string oscillation can be understood as a back-and-forth pendulum motion in an ideal medium," Malcador explained. "Fortunately, we still have... you, Angron and Mag It's here, so the fixed end of the pendulum is still stable, and when the other end swings back naturally, they should all be able to come back."

"They!" the dog growled, "do they have to bring back that nagging guy with extremely poor hygiene habits?!"

"It's a pity, I think so, they should come back at the same time," the former regent replied calmly, "After all, the too old alien stuff is superimposed with some things that shouldn't exist in the first place, plus a few drops of time and space elements, oh , it would be great if a few of you could come back from this kind of accident. In addition, obviously an important part of it is your brother who was given some talents very carelessly, you. It’s best to pray that he doesn’t do something stupid in front of Lamizane, otherwise.”

After hearing this, Perturabo's fur face showed a look that was mixed with gloating, cruelty, jealousy, dissatisfaction and other very complex emotions.

"Ah ha, if that's the case, I won't worry anymore, because," said the devil who knew the temperament of a certain librarian well, "Just watch. I'm looking forward to it. The only one who will be unlucky is the person who does something stupid. ha."

——————

As the Demon Lord hissed even more dissatisfied, everything around him—that is, everything, from photons to the universe—seemed to shake. At that moment, those with lower talents did not feel so bad. They might just shiver inexplicably or be enveloped by a similar frost shadow, while those with higher talents were in the shadow of what they saw. The madness may tremble.

For example, Gavier Loken at this moment.

The Captain of the Luna Wolves opened his eyes wide in his armor, and he saw Alharin - always eye-catching among everyone with a cold neatness and elegance that was completely different from the Emperor's Children. Aharin - he - or something with the slightest shadow of him - the huge and twisted thing is like a blasphemous mixture of dirty dark flesh, scars burned by hot melt and steel implants - —And the vaguely distinguishable yellow and black striped armor is covered with uncomfortable evil spikes and skulls. In the shadow of the helmet, a pair of absolutely evil, sickly turbid yellow eyes are staring at him——

Ga'viel raised his bolter, and before he pulled the trigger, he saw what appeared to be Alharin pointing at Loken himself.

Then Loken saw his arm.

His arm wasn't gripping the bolter at the moment he saw it.

It was something between nothingness stained with the blood of an unknown person and long, inhuman claws.

On the other side of fate, the Inanimate One chuckled, it saw him, it was going to catch him——

"Samus is beside you! Samus is the one who is beside you! Samus will eat you!"

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